Chapter 11

Sid sat down on the bench of a table that stood in front of the fireplace. They had just arrived at Weavertown, and had selected the Inn to serve as a meeting place. Although Masterson wanted to sleep in the Inn, Sid said that they would sleep in their tents like the men.

He was soon joined by Olaf and Barson. The two young men were smiling as if they had some great secret that they were just dying to tell. He asked, “And what mischief are you two planning?”

Barson laughed at the suggestion that they would do something mischievous. He winked at Olaf and answered, “Well, it’s like this. Olaf and I were eating a chicken ... I have to mention that it just happened to fall dead at our feet, while we were taking a walk through the woods.”

“I’m sure that you had nothing to do with its untimely death,” Sid said with a smile.

“That’s right,” Barson said. “So we were eating this poor deceased chicken by our campfire when a strange and twisted thought came to us.”

Nodding his head in mock seriousness, Olaf said, “You know how infrequently Barson thinks, so any thought that comes to him is surely strange.”

“And we are all waiting for Olaf to have his first thought, but I fear that I will be old and gray before that day,” Barson replied nudging his friend in the side.

“But between the pair of us we managed to work out one thought that wasn’t too twisted,” Olaf said with a grin.

Sid laughed at the pair. He said, “I fear that the suspense is about to kill me. So tell me this strange and not too twisted idea that you have.”

“Well, I noticed that this building was once an Inn,” Barson said gesturing to the room in which they were seated.

“And you know that Barson once worked in an Inn,” Olaf said gesturing to his friend.

“So we thought that perhaps we could open it as an Inn for a few nights, and give some of the troops a chance to eat in relative comfort,” Barson said.

“But I said that there were too many troops for that,” Olaf said with a wink in Barson’s direction.

“You don’t say,” Sid said.

“‘Tis true, he did say that. So here’s where the thought got a little twisted. Somehow, it came to us that we could hold a lottery to determine who can spend the evening at the Inn,” Barson said.

Sid was about to make a comment, but Olaf held up a hand. He said, “But then I said that it was not fair to the men for us to profit from them like that. So I said that we could let you select the men as a reward for good service.”

“That idea is indeed strange and slightly twisted. Pray tell me, who would work in this Inn?” Sid asked getting into the manner of their dialog.

“Alas, this is as far as our thought has gotten. I’m sure that Barson would love to work extra,” Olaf said with a grin.

“I’m sure that Olaf wouldn’t mind carrying drinks to and fro,” Barson said.

Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as if concentrating, Sid said, “My poor brain is having difficulties dealing with so much information.”

The other two young men adopted similar poses. Deadpan, Olaf said, “Yes, it does hurt the head to think so much.”

“There are beds here in the Inn to consider,” Sid said glancing over at Barson.

Breaking out of character, Olaf said, “I thought that you, Masterson, Peterson, and Connor would be staying here.”

“Nope. We stay in our tents, just like the rest of the army,” Sid answered. He sat back and said, “I like the idea, but I don’t like handing out favors to men who’ve come to my notice. There are others who have done deeds just as worthy, but did them where I could not observe it.”

“Oh, well it was just an idea,” Barson said.

“It is a good idea. Why don’t we hold a lottery for the chance to be here?” Sid asked.

“I thought you would be upset by having them pay for a chance to stay here,” Olaf said with a frown.

“Who said that we had to charge?” Sid asked looking first at Olaf and then at Barson.

The two young men pointed at each other and then burst out laughing. Olaf finally answered, “I just assumed.”

“Same here,” Barson said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“So each man gets one chance in the lottery. Those who win get to eat here. Amongst those who eat here, we hold another lottery to determine who gets to spend the night in a bed,” Sid said.

“Don’t forget the women, sir,” Olaf said. Shaking his head, he said, “It won’t be any fun if none of the women have a chance.”

“Who should set up the lottery?” Sid asked.

Barson and Olaf looked at each other for a second. Olaf winked and said, “There’s three of us here, but two of us already have jobs to do.”

Fred stepped forward and said, “I will do that.”

“No, Fred. I will do it. Olaf is right. It is a job that I should do,” Sid said with a nod of his head. It would be good for morale and his involvement would assure the men that the lottery was fair.

Although he had sworn himself to Sid’s service four days earlier, Fred had not yet had a chance to perform any kind of service. Each attempt had been derailed. At first, Sid had made sure that the man had treatment for the wounds on his back. Then Sid had trained him by showing him how things were done in camp. Fred asked, “Is there nothing I can do for you?”

Sensing Fred’s increasing frustration, Sid said, “Yes. You can run and get Connor for me. I need him to organize the men to participate in the lottery. Once you have found him, I think that you and I should have a bite to eat.”

“Yes, Sid,” Fred said relieved at having something to do even if it was little more than running simple errands.

Once Fred was gone, Olaf said, “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen him smile.”

The men and women of camp were standing about in groups of a hundred talking excitedly about the lottery. One group at a time came forward to where Sid was standing with two urns. One at a time, a person would step up to Sid and draw a bead from the urn. After checking the bead, it would be dropped into the second urn.

The lucky ones, those who drew a black bead, headed over to the Inn while the others stayed behind. The winners usually did a little victory dance before dropping their bead into the second urn. The losers just shook their heads and took comfort in the fact that they would have another chance the next night.

Between groups, Sid would pour the contents of his urn into the second urn. Fred would hand him the second urn and call forth the next group. Sid was sure to let each loser know that maybe their luck would be better the next night. He congratulated each winner.

Standing to the side, Connor was watching the proceedings with the other advisers. He looked over at Masterson and asked, “Can you believe it?”

“Yes I can,” Masterson answered in a grumpy voice. “He gives our rooms to them.”

Peterson said, “It was Olaf and Barson who came up with the idea.”

“It figures,” Masterson said. He was tired of camping and wanted nothing more than one night’s rest in a soft bed.

“Do you see how the people are responding to him?” Connor asked thinking that Masterson missed the point.

“Yes, I do. They will follow him anywhere,” Masterson said.

Peterson said, “The men will think better of all of us when they see that we are eating around our campfires and sleeping in our tents.”

“There is that,” Masterson said. Turning away, he said, “I really wanted to sleep in a bed for a change.”

“We’ve got four thousand men and women that feel the same way,” Connor said. He looked over at Masterson and said, “Of course, they don’t feel that they can demand it like some of us can.”

“And some of us who thought we could demand it, have discovered that we can’t,” Masterson said. He realized that the men would be highly motivated to fight for Sid. That difference in motivation could mean the difference between winning and losing. He added, “At least some good is going to come out of it.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re going to have the best army in this war,” Masterson answered.

“Where are you going?” Peterson asked when Masterson started walking off.

Smiling back at Connor, Masterson answered, “I’ve got to figure out how we’re going to fight the army that the slavers will send out to put down the rebellion. The best army still needs the best plans to win the battle.”

It had taken hours, but Sid finally finished running the lottery. After handing the urns to Fred, a young woman approached Sid. He recognized her as one of the women who had started back in the Jones Citadel. She was a very popular young woman around camp. It took him a moment to recall her name. Turning to her, he asked, “Hello, Mandy Harrisdaughter. What can I do for you?”

Flustered by the fact that Sid remembered her name, Mandy stuttered for a moment trying to recover her composure. After several false starts, she managed to say, “I was wondering, Sir, if the men would like entertainment at the Inn?”

Remembering the few times that he had heard her sing, Sid said, “I’m sure that they would love to hear you sing. Why don’t you go over there and let Barson know that you are the entertainment for the evening? I’m sure that he can squeeze you in at a table there.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she said. She’d sing her heart out for the chance to eat at a table for a change!