Thought I'd be a bit more ahead this week. The college I work for is going through an OFSTED inspection. So despite working one day a week, I have been allocated a TON of stuff to do (in addition to my teaching) therefore little time for modelling.
I did make a start on Fredrickson and his Chosen Men should finish them this week. My plan is that our first episode takes place on a narrow boat, so I need to construct one of them.
Photos (with luck) next post.
The parlour door opened and Molly’s visitor met her lodger.
“Captain William Fredrickson, I presume,” he said extending his right hand in greeting.
“I am at a loss, sir,” Captain Fredrickson replied, taking the proffered hand.
“My name is unimportant at the moment. I know well of you. My colleagues on the Iberian Peninsula spoke well of your talents. You worked with Mister Sharpe, did you not?”
Fredrickson bristled at the mention of his, one time, friend.
“It is so.”
Both men took a seat.
“Captain, I have a mission suited to particular talents. The niece of a cabinet minister is missing just north of here on another peninsula.”
“It’s hardly a task for a soldier.”
“There are complications. Some kind of plague has infected the Wirral Peninsula. The minister requires a particular type of individual to recover his relative. The local Yeomanry have sealed of the area and we require you to lead a band of chosen men onto the land and rescue the young women.”
Fredrickson turned his head and glared with his one good eye. The visitor thought he grimaced, Fredrickson was smiling.
“What a ruse, might I have some written orders, please?”
The gentleman handed Fredrickson a finely decorated sabretache, “your orders and maps, for what they are, are contained within. A barge, The Lady Jessica, will be waiting at the canal at noon the day after tomorrow. She will take you to Saighton Barracks, just outside Chester, where you will take command of your muster. Well, sir, the rest is up to you.”
With that the gentleman rose, shook Fredrickson’s hand and left. As he passed through the parlour door he turned.
“Give my regards to Molly and good luck Sweet William.”
Fredrickson jumped to his feet at hearing his familiar name from a stranger, but the gentleman had gone. Settling into the chair he filled a pipe and opened the sabretache.
Thanks for reading. Keep warm.