July 23, 1809: The message arrives

"I should have brought my report with me," Vickery said ruefully, taking up each sheet of paper in turn to read them through. "We could send them off together to the General and save some poor soldier's feet in doing so. May I?" He sat down to uncap the Engineer's inkwell to add a simple yet dignified signature to the end of each report.

"Of course."

Torrington busied himself setting a third glass on the table and putting his greatcoat over his chest of maps to produce a comfortable seat for himself.

"If you will not mind, I will collect it tomorrow morning, unless my coffee can tempt you to bring it yourself? It will also minimize the chance that one report gets misfiled, misdirected or plain lost."

"I think I shall have to arrange for Rottlaender to teach Cotton how to make coffee," Vickery said, wiping Torrington's pen clean. "It will no doubt astound the young man that he knows how to do something Cotton does not." He smiled. "You can most certainly tempt me over with the offer of a cup of coffee, good sir."

"It will make him either so proud or so confused that I shudder to think what will happen - but it will certainly be entertaining. I have a feeling he has more familiarity with coffee than with tea - he had to learn how to make a proper cup of tea, and I have yet to see him make one for himself. Usually he seems to drink a tissane of everything that grows on the roadside and barter his tea leaves away."

Edward shrugged, unable to find any fault with this. If he wanted a proper cup of tea, Pye had shown himself able to produce that, so he guessed he had the best of both worlds at the moment.

"I suppose they drink more coffee than tea in the German states - tea is, after all, a very English sort of drink," Vickery said. "It somehow does not surprise me that he does not use his own ration of tea himself." He looked across at Willoughby. "If I may give you a word of advice? Get yourself a good man for your servant - better he is active and resourceful than that he can read and write. After all, you can keep your own accounts easily enough."

"He makes a rather fine brew from those things. I've had a chance to try it. Surprisingly good." Willoughby spoke and held the now filled glass to Vickery. "Spanish wine." He explained. and then cast a quick glance to Torrington's own glass. Still nearly full.

He poured the wine into his own and shrugged. The Bottle was there and should Torrington wish to have another, he was most welcome to. "I will have to find one..hopefully of equal quality than the likes of yours. Either Cotton or Rottlaender. Don't quite know how." He grinned. "But I will take your word on what qualities to search for in one."

"I can also recommend that he can cook."

Torrington smiled and took his own glass of wine, intending to enjoy it now that he had finished working.

"Although you are probably are much more reconciled with the usual army fare than I am."

"The local wines can be surprisingly good," Vickery said, accepting the offered glass. "I was fortunate with Cotton - I merely let my senior Sergeant know I was looking for a new soldier-servant, and he brought Cotton up to my room, with the recommendation that he was conscientious and his kit and rifle were always in good order. Congratulations on your commission, Cornet," he added, raising the glass in Willoughby's direction.

Torrington echoed the toast, rising his glass as well.

"To a long and successful carreer."

Willoughby raised his glass and grinned. He really hoped that what they've said would be heard by whoever is in control of his fate and that it would be realized. Well even if not, he would do his damn best to earn his purchase, and his new rank and any ranks that would come in due time.

"I think I would just like to live past 30." He winked and chuckled. "And do as good a service as I can master...." He also would have preferred to make as few mistakes as possible, but he knew that those would be only half in his hands and under control anyway. He drank from his glass till it was half way empty and then spoke again.

"A good cook, good tea maker, smart and inventive... I think it would do good if he has good skills with horses too...Hmm. I can't really snag a German rifleman, can I?" He asked half in jest, half serious. "That or a captive Frenchman, at least they have the fame for good cousine if nothing more."

"Not Rottlaender, in any case. I still can't thank you enough for him, Vickery."

Taking another sip from the heavy wine and feeling himself relax under its influence, the engineer half-grinned at Wiloughby's French joke.

"Also loyal, caring, protective of your things ..."

Heavens - that sounded as if the man was looking for a wife!

Willoughby laughed softly. "When you put it that way... getting a new batman will be almost as important as choosing one's life's path." He was having a fairly grand time and at final last he could actually get into a tent without thinking that he needed to await an order.

"Any other things I should look for, to find the one?" He asked, finding it quite amusing how a good batman, well it reminded him of another sort of matchmaking, and the one was far more permanent and most certainly not one where both parties carried a weapon with them. At least, not the military sort.

"I do feel terribly inexperienced in these things. If it were without your guidance, I might have gone for the first one that offered himself to me." He shook his head. "Not that one would, of course, but theoretically speaking!"

"I did and got very lucky, so ... I guess you can't expect too much sound advice from me there, but I wish you best of luck with it."

Torrington took another sip of wine.

"But I guess having seen things from the other side, you will have some insights the rest of us lacks. Or rather, most of us lack. I think you were required to train with your men, Vickery?"

"Yeah...It will be harder too. When you've got friends on one side, it's hard to revert to ordering them around... and expecting them to obey, or if they don't acting out as their officer and not as their friend." He stretched out a little. "...Anyway... there will certainly have to be many more excercises in the ways of chase, ride, charge and ball." He grinned and refilled his glass.

"Ah, Captain Vickery... you might have guessed, you might not. This man here." He pointed towards Torrington. "Is fully responsible that I now wear this odd mix of trooper and officer uniform!...well techincally he is to blame for the officer's part... both physical and. .rank wise!" He raised the glass to Torrington his grin broadening. "He's to blame I'll have to do paperwork now!"

Vickery leaned back in his seat, crossing his ankles. "Indeed I was, Torrington. Had to fall in squad with 'em, learn to march - all the manoeuvres, in fact, the whole Manual Exercise, and how to load and fire a rifle - and clean it, too. About the only thing they didn't expect us to do was to live in the same barrack blocks as our men." He grinned. "It does give a different perspective on things, which is only to be expected."

He arched an eyebrow at Willoughby's pronouncement. "Then may I say that he is a true friend? I shall drink your health, Torrington - it is not many men who would thus put themselves out for another."

Torrington looked supremely uncomfortable and fussed around with his cuffs, even though they were perfectly settled already.

"It was only money, and he is ... was ... a friend of my brothers. He would have done the same in an instant."

"Indeed I would." Willoughby grinned. "Had the tables been turned, you could count on me." He nodded , confident and as cheerful as they would get.

"To your health, Torrington!" He raised the glass at the toast. "And many great years of service." He added then took a sip from his glass again.

"He's made a sacrifice I am most grateful for. Did not need to, but did never the less!" He would praise he other man some more even if it made him quite uncomfortable. The latter he did not exactly notice anyway!

Vickery did notice Torrington's discomfort with the situation, and had to hide a smile. "Then, shall I propose a toast to friendship, wherever one may find it?" he suggested. "True friendship, after all, is not something to be taken lightly."

Casting a thankful glance at Vickery for the rescue, Torrington agreed with feeling:

"To friendship. May it always be there when we need it."

"And to friendship." Willoughby agreed, though he did not withdraw his previous toast. With the glass raised yet another time he needed quite clearly a refill and seemed ignorant of the count of glasses he had had so far.

He look somber for a little though, for he knew that friendships would be lost if rank would have to be obeyed and lost even if he would have liked it otherwise.

Edward took another sip and tried to steer the conversation in other directions again.

"Where did you get this wine, by the way? It is quite good, but I wouldn't necessarily recommend that soldiers get too much of it. It seems to be the kind that leads to singing."

Although he had even finished his first glass, he could feel the alcohol creep into his brain.

"There are two Spanish sisters not from far from here, if I understood them correctly. That, or their wagon was supposed to be close. Anyway, they brought several bottles of wine with them, some cheese and some bread, there were other things but I did not inquire, because I needed none of those yet. Did ask how long they were about, since...I might need some things later." He grinned

" Being an officer and all." He added and then briefly hummed a tune, a Spanish one, that perhaps one of them had been humming while looking for the right bottle of wine. It was either that or he may have known the melody from somewhere else.

As abruptly he spot and grinned "..could ask them to sell some more...better to salvage the wine before the soldiers get them!"

"So long as it does not lead to singing dirty songs very off-key, I am not inclined to mind the singing," Vickery said, noticing Willoughby's humming. The tune sounded half familiar, though he could not place it. "As for the soldiery getting drunk, I am very thankful that the Germans do not seem to be as inclined to that as the British do - though Cotton is unusually restrained in that respect - although there was one incident over the winter..." He trailed off, remembering. It had not been funny at the time, of course.

Edward fought to hide a yawn - the wine did not steer him towards singing at the moment, rather towards sleep.

"We probably should."

He opened his mouth to shout for Freddie, then remembered and closed it again.

"Though I guess they will still be here tomorrow. And with some luck the wine as well. I must say, I had some pretty drunken men during my Scottish street building times, but seldom any interesting tales came from it, just a lot of singing, sleeping in ditches and fighting. The only thing that comes to mind is a man who walked right into a toll-gate post trying to navigate through the two he was seeing."

He raised an eyebrow.

"So what is the worst you have to offer?"

"I shall raise you four drunk soldiers - well, three definitely drunk men and one not so very sober man - taking refuge from a trio of provosts in my billet," Vickery said with a grin. "Of course, by the time I returned to my billet, the provosts were long gone, while the four drunk men were not."