26 May; With the baggage

The other two riflemen were not going to show themselves again, it seemed. Pity. The provost officer sat up straighter in the saddle and touched his heels to his horse's flanks. He could not afford to dally any longer, for there were two prisoners to be dealt with.

Giles and Smith were some yards ahead by now, but the officer was in no hurry to catch up with them. If he was alert, he might catch some other fool in the act of breaking one of the Army's laws.

Cotton wiped his forehead on his sleeve. Where were those two jokers, and why on earth had Newbury gone into a panic the way he had?

"If you don't start movin' pretty sharpish, I reckon we could allus make a decent meal or two off'n your sorry carcase," Cotton said. The mule showed its teeth briefly and then condescended to start walking again.

"I ain't thinkin' nothin' just now," Newbury returned, wishing Pye would leave off the nosy questions. He gripped his rifle and scowled. "Might's well find Cotton now."

With a simple nod, the lad started for the direction in which they have left Cotton and his mule. He gazed at his bread bag and smiled. As if sensing the attention a quiet chirp answered him. He patted the cloth, and adjusted its strap. He murmured something to it, but as it was very quiet it probably would not have been caught by anyone but the bird.

He spared the two girls a passing thought. Well, as Cotton said, they wouldn't be harmed, or the Portuguese would be upset. It isn't that he should care anyway. Food, yes, but other things were optional.

"You all right, lads?" Maggie asked cheerfully, coming up behind Newbury and Pye. "I decided to spell myself from the donkey and come and see my husband with his. Is something wrong?" She added the last in a different tone, quiet and worried, seeing their grim expressions.

"Oh, there you are. I was startin' to wonder what'd happened to you both," Cotton said, noticing the two stray Riflemen approaching. "What did happen - an' why'd you leg it so sharp-like, Joe? Anyone'd think you had some sort o' guilty conscience."

"What's wrong?" Maggie asked again, slipping her hand into Cotton's free arm.

His guilt was still gnawing hungrily at his insides. This was no state to be in, around such company. Forcing himself to shrug, Newbury said, "Just a bad mornin', Missus."

Now here was Cotton. Perfect. "You lot're better off not knowin'," he answered dully. "Me leg's achin' kinda bad now. Better rest it."

It was almost painful to do it, but he made himself grin and limped off, deciding to find his wagon again and not budge from it for the rest of the week.

"Nothin' miss. Newbury's jus' got a sore knee. .. n'..." He shrugged. Wasn't it logical that poor Newbury had a damaged knee and a poor bladder from sitting all the time in the wagon. He had to go in a hurry, maybe even because a different part of him had wanted to get things out.

Alright, perhaps Pye decided Newbury could explain himself, while he chose to feed his chick. Which he did, simply sitting on the floor, and bringing some crumbs out for it, after he'd taken the little bird out to eat. The provosts were gone, so the coast was clear.

Cotton looked down at her and sighed. "Provosts come up thinkin' we was shirkin' our duty an' wantin' to see our tickets, and Newbury up an' legs it like all the Devils of Hell was after him - though he didn't know then that they only wanted to make sure we was here with permish'n." He took his shako off and wiped his face on his sleeve. "It's all a mess, is what it is. No harm done, though if there had bin, I reckon the Cap'n would've cheerfully strung Newbury up to the nearest tree hisself."

"....all just bloody trouble.. the provosts. Just bleedin' trouble." Pye muttered, and for once looked as if the world was not merry and great, or filled with fear and nervousness. He squeezed his fist, and the crumbs were turned into something more akin to coarse sand, prickling at his palm before their ultimate demise.

"Poor old Joe," Maggie said, looking after him as he retreated to find his wagon. "Maybe he'd left his ticket behind. Glad he hadn't lost it. When we were coming back from Coimbra, me and Jenny was worried the provosts would- " She stopped, narrowed her eyes, and looked all around. "I'll be back in a bit, Gabe," she said and abruptly left them to run after Joe.

He nodded at her words; it was quite possible, after all. He blinked as she abruptly disengaged from his arm and headed off after Newbury. "Hey, what...?"

The provosts were gone, but Newbury still felt jittery, expecting them to come back any moment. They had been talking with those Portugee, and Jenny had been there, which made him nervous. She didn't seem like the sort who'd peach, but you could never tell with women.

Fast-moving feet were coming up from behind him. Too light to belong to a man and they obviously weren't hooves. He found himself leaning a little more on his rifle than he liked as he turned to see Maggie Cotton coming up quick after him. What did she want?

"What happened to Jenny?" Maggie asked shortly.

That was a very good question. Newbury shrugged. "Provosts was talkin' to her," he replied. He had a strong suspicion he knew what about, but he was not about to get into that.

"Where?"

"Down there a ways." He pointed. "Dunno where she's got to now."

He really wasn't looking forward to her coming back to the wagon, either.

Maggie ran off in the direction indicated.

Women. Newbury heaved out a sigh and turned away to resume his awkward journey back to his wagon. It was impossible to make sense of them.

Cotton looked in the direction Maggie had gone in. "Flighty thing, she can be, times," he muttered. "C'mon, Willow, we ain't so near to stoppin' yet that you can take it easy."

It was some time before they returned together, Maggie looking concerned and Jenny looking irritable. Jenny climbed into the wagon next to Newbury, acknowledging him with a simple nod and then sitting in a sulk.

He had been dozing, somehow, when the women returned. Jenny's coming up into the wagon roused Newbury and he blinked sleepily. Yet even in his slightly fuzzy-headed state, he recognised there was something amiss. Frowning, he glanced out of the wagon toward where Maggie had moved off to. Had he missed something?

Pye noticed the two women come and then disappear into the wagon. He shook his head and continued on his own way, alongside with Cotton. He paused and turned about. "..Gabe, will be back in a moment." And then he turned to spy the same spot that Newbury had been at, before his ticket had been checked.

Cotton watched Pye disppear in the same direction Newbury had gone earlier, and sighed. "I dunno what-all's goin' on with 'em, I really don't," he said, more to himself than to Willow. The mule tossed its head and Cotton frowned at it. "Don't think you can stop now, though, you lazy thing. I know what you'm like."