"What ho, Captain," you murmur, just loud enough to catch the soldier's ear.
"Stir the horses," he orders under his breath to his underlings, raising a finger to you. "We've tarried long enough." The order done, he looks at you with a wordless "What?" writ across his face.
"We cannot leave them unanswered." You indicate the holies with a jerk of your head. "'Twould leave a sour attitude about the Coronation Anniversary with all this crowd, and then all those to whom they speak when they recall th'event in years to come."
The Captain draws his horse closer to your cart. "And what would you have me do?" he says, with an air of genuine curiosity under the skepticism. You conjure up whatever wisdom you can muster in formulating your advice.
Onward