"Heads up, men," Jack surveyed them. After months in India, most were sun-browned to the same hue as any Indian, with only the red-heads retaining the pale complexion that peeled and reddened under the heat. Their uniforms were similar to those worn by many of the mutineers, and their weapons and training were not much different.
"As I said, we are no longer creeping by night and hiding by day," he said. "As from now, we are marching like soldiers. From a distance, we are no different to a company of mutinous sepoys. We march in the open."
"Sir," Kent said. "What if we meet any real mutineers?"
"We are the 113th," Jack said. He gave no more instructions; his men knew what he meant.
"Keep your rifles loaded and ready," Jack ordered, "and your bayonets loose in the scabbards. You griffin
