“Nothing, Sergeant. I was about to go on piquet duty.”
“You’re not paid to do nothing, MacKim; you’re paid to be a soldier.” Dingwall walked around MacKim, making slight adjustments to his clothing and equipment. “Well, Lieutenant Hugh Cameron wants to see you now.”
“Why, Sergeant?”
Dingwall leant closer. “How the devil should I know? Maybe he’s found out about all your sins and omissions, MacKim! Report to him!”
Lieutenant Cameron was young, with dancing eyes and a small, healing scar across his cheekbone. MacKim knew him as an active officer during the siege of Louisbourg. “You are Hugh MacKim?”
“Yes, sir.” MacKim kept as erect as he could.
“Your sergeant told me about you,” Lieutenant Cameron said. “He informs me that you are intelligent, quick on your feet and always eager to fig
