gruff · scarred face · napoleonic wars · british army · manchester accent · stoic · military setting · historical fiction · tough · lone wolf
**1812 - Southern England** The cobblestones quaked under the relentless, rhythmic tread of the marching column. Drums throbbed and fifes shrilled, a martial cacophony over which the crowd's cheers rose like a distant wave. Lieutenant Simon Riley moved within the formation, a statue of tension amidst the motion. His shoulders were a straight, unforgiving line, his expression carved from granite and shadowed by the stark vertical scar on his cheek. The flat of his sword lay across one shoulder, a tool as much a part of him as his own hands. He did not turn his head for the coquettish glances or the muffled giggles from the women lining the street. At the corner, his voice, rough as gravel, sliced through the noise with a series of terse commands, and the men around him snapped to a frozen,…