26th June, They are upon the road

"Then why don't you go take one? Preferably in a nice quiet pond!" Shouted Hunter to be heard over the roar of the water currents.

"Nice quiet ponds are boring!", Edward shouted back. He had reached the point where the water had cut deeply into the bed of the river as it swerved around the pillar.

"It's pretty deep here. I don't think I can get through - at least not in a way that would allow me to see the pillar. Can you hold on fast for a minute?"

He drew his heavy artillery sabre and leaned forward against the rope, poking at something below the waterline.

Hunter looped the rope around his own waist, grabbed it in a more secure grip and braced himself. "Torrington, the woman who washes my clothes already charges extra! Do not make me take another swim!"

Torrington couldn't answer that one, because he was leaning sideways into the rope, trying to reach something at the foot of the pillar, was half und water with his chest and had to keep his mouth closed.

When he gripped the rope and pulled himself up again, he was grinning broadly, however.

"The base is just coming out of the gravel. Short of an avalanche, there's nothing that will shake this pillar!"

He left his sabre dangle from its wriststrap and began to pull himself hand over hand back to calmer waters again.

"Oh, I am so glad you have established that, Torrington! Would you hurry up and get back on the dry land? We are not in the Navy!"

Edward stalked the last yards out of the water and shook himself like a wet dog.

"Alright, alright! You just begrudge me that cool bath!"

He thrust his sabre into the ground and shook out his arms, the waterdrops from his sleeves dancing brilliantly in the sun, not quite accidently raining down just short of Hunter's boots.

"I begrudge you not having a commander who spots even a tiniest crease or speck of mud on your uniform." He unwound the rope and dropped it on the ground. "Well, did you even think that you will have to be soaking wet for the rest of the journey?"

"I will be comforted by the knowledge that my buckskins will fit me to perfection for the rest of the day! As for the rest ... I brought a second pair of socks, and will for once not complain about that infernal sun. It will have dried that shirt in a moment, if you would be good enough to wait just a bit longer!"

Edward unwound his sodden cravat, eying it with distaste (he really should have remembered to take that off before), and drapped it over the rail of the bridge, then pulled off his boots, allowing a decent amount of water to escape.

Hunter eyed Torrington, then raised one eyebrow: "You know, Torrington, your buckskins are enough to scandalise a woman of easy virtue, let alone a respectable Portuguese matron."

"Then let us be glad that none is around! Or was it a polite reminder that you are easily scandalized and I should continue this expedition wrapped in my greatcoat?"

Edward was bend over now, exchanging his socks for a rather interesting looking pair that had certainly been the gift of some well-meaning, but rather unskilled relative.

"So now that we have established that we have a very nice bridge, but no good road to get to it, what shall we do next? Is the weather still holding up?"

"We could ride over. I'd be interested to see what the ground is like on the other side and whether there is good natural cover. Just in case, though I doubt there will be any French to bottle us in while we are crossing the bridge."

"Still, better be safe then sorry!"

Edward, still slightly dripping, passed his hands through his hair until it stopped sticking as a wet plaster to his head, then vaulted back into the saddle.

"Will you forgive me for leaving my coat off just a few moments longer?"

"Leave it off as long as you like, Torrington, we are on reconnaissance not at a ball. Besides I've seen worse." He tapped Firebird's sides lightly with his heels directing her over the bridge.

Edward turned his own horse to follow, standing in his stirrups to look around.

"Well, if they try to block the crossing, any cannon on the top of the bridge would clear any direct opposition, but I guess that shrubbery on both sides will be hard to control."

Conscious of his still-wet state, the engineer pushed his cuffs back to his ellbows and pulled a notebook from his sabretache, propped it against the hard back and made a quick sketch, accompanied by a few notes.

"You're better versed in these things. What's your verdict?"

"You give me too much credit in these things," drawled Hunter. "I think however, if anything happens, if we hold one side, we should pull through. Though I would prefer having the French at the back, on this side, rather than greeting us on the bank we need to get to."

Edward looked down the side of the bridge. At the highest point, the fast-flowing water was a good thirty feet below.

"I would not care having men cross that bridge in panic either way. And I certainly hope it will not become necessary to disable it. It would take a long time to do that properly. - Shall we climb one more hill, have a look at what lies ahead and then turn back?"

"By all means, but I am afraid we'll have to make our way back rather briskly. It is getting rather late in the day."

"If he is allowed to splash through the river afterwards, Trueno won't mind a brisk pace back. I believe he even would enjoy it."

Edward patted his horses neck proudly and directed him up another slope.

"Unless you propose that we go some distance tonight and he should save his strength?"

George studied Trueno's form and the way he was holding himself. "I dare say he'll manage. We won't be going far." George smiled. "And I am not telling you anything else."

"I have said it before and will say it again: You are a tease, Hunter. Here. That's as high up as we can get without actual climbing, which I would prefer not to have to do. Can you see anything unusual?"

He offered his spyglass onehandedly to Hunter, already busy adding a few more lines and notes to his sketch.

Hunter took the spyglass and scanned the horizon. "No. Nothing out of the ordinary, which is not to say it isn't there." He handed the spyglass back, "You might want to bring a cloak as well tonight." He glanced across at Torrington. "And perhaps you can find something a little less, ah, gentlemanly to wear?"

Edward looked down at himself: Without hat, coat and cravat, cuffs rolled up to the ellbows, dripping and with unpolished boots he was as far away from being dressed like a proper gentleman as he could think of without actually borrowing some soldier's clothing.

The look he gave Hunter was comicly suspicious.

"What do you have in mind? My nightshirt?"

Hunter snorted. "That would certainly make an impression." He carried on swiftly not to give too much information away. "If you were to be seen in it. But do certainly lay off those sand-coloured paint layers."

"I think I will pass on that compliment to my tailor! But as my nightshirt cannot compare to that perfection, I would prefer not to show it around publicly. And if we are to ride, I insist on some kind of inexpressibles! Perhaps you should just come along and point out to me which of my garments you deem suitable for this mysterious endeavor."

He had of course a pair of overalls, but as long as he didn't know what this was all about, he wouldn't admit to that.

"Do not I beg you, involve me with your scandalous wardrobe. I may end up having a fit of vapours and I do not have my smelling salts on me."