26th June, late evening: the Dinner Trip

Edward grinned. Keeping his Welsh accent but dropping the cant and the affectation, he said:

"Good. Although I hope that whereever you take me, they don't speak Welsh - my repertoire of cant expressions is rather limited."

He shook his head to get the strand out of his sight and passed a scrutinizing look over Hunter.

"So who are you supposed to be? I hate to admit it, but at the moment you are definitely better-dressed."

"I am not supposed to be anyone, Torrington. Just your average devastatingly handsome and somewhat roguish looking man in a leather jacket, whom no one knows, yet admires on the first glance."

"Well, I'll leave the admiring first glances to you - everybody knows that the true hero in these kind of novels is always the rakish lord in disguise who does not care for the heroin at all at first - but gets her anyway."

His eyes lingered on Hunter's cheekbones.

"And if you are average around here, I'll eat my hat unsalted."

"I will quite happily leave heroines to you. You are the one with the smelling salts. Which you are welcome to put on your hat, when you'll be eating it. I am far from cruel." Hunter grinned. "However, we must get on, I do want to arrive before it's completely dark."

Edward allowed his horse a light gallop.

"Now you make me curious and curiouser. You really are cruel! Rigging me out like a gipsy, but not telling me what for!"

Hunter laughed. "For my distinctly evil purposes, my lord."

"I shudder to think what they might be ..."

Edward didn't sound too frightened, however, rather mildly exasperated.

"Whatever they are, I am sure you will derive a lot of pleasure from them." Hunter directed Firebird off the track and into the rather sparse looking forest.

Edward frowned. To the best of his knowledge, neither in this wood nor behind it was anything of interest. So either the maps he had were even faultier than he had thought, or Hunter was planning some rather unusual entertainment indeed.

He steered Trueno to follow and mock-frowned at Hunter's back.

"Hm, let me guess: You have found a nice brook into which we can tumble this time, and made me wear this clothing so that I don't ruin my dress uniform again?"

Hunter grinned and shook his head. "Listen," he said bringing the horse to a halt. In the distance one could just make out a rumble of human voices and neighing of horses.

Edward tilted his head.

"Horses?"

It didn't sound like cavalry, though, but more ... untamed? Curious, he leaned forward in the saddle and guided Trueno a few steps to the side to glance through the trees.

"I hope so." As they progressed further, one could start to make out a clearing further up a head with wagons and carts in it and people milling about. Some men were engaged in roping off an area for a makeshift paddock while several women in colourful skirts were watching and laughing.

Edward starred for a moment, open-eyed. Then a slow smile spread over his face as he began to understand.

"Gipsies! You've taken me to meet gipsies? Are you aquainted with them?"

He thought ruefully that he probably should be scandalized - quite a few people back home would be even hearing it - but instead he was intrigued. He slowly walked his horse closer.

"I don't know anyone from this group. My servant, who has a lot more liberty than he probably should, told me about them settling here tonight. I do hope it will go easier because I was acquainted with a gypsy band in Spain. It was a large one. This band may have heard of them."

Torrington smiled and tilted his head to listen to the voices around him.

"So will we sit down here for our dinner with them?", he inquired.

"In a way." Hunter smiled. "Now, let's go, before they get suspicious of our lurking." Hunter dismounted and leading Firebird came out on to the clearing. Both the men and women eyed him suspiciously and when Hunter greeted them, replied rather morosely, than Hunter said something in Spanish and a man moved forward. They spoke for some time, the man nodding in the end and pointing to a log not far way from where they were standing. Most men relaxed suddenly and nodded to the Captains and one or two younger women even went so far as to smile at them.

Edward, following Hunter, returned the smile openly. It was mostly play-acting, but the sentiment was there nevertheless. In slow Italian, he asked:

"So you got us front row seats?"

He wanted to talk in a language the gipsies (and Hunter of course) would likely be able to understand at least a bit. His father had often spoken about the value of a little goodwill in gaining trust.

"As long as we are careful, respectful, keep our heads down and don't offend anyone, we may get to keep them." Hunter tied Firebird by the log and opened one of the saddle bags. "Come, let's eat before it starts."

Edward tied Trueno to the other side (something the stallion didn't quite like) and threw his cloak over the log to cushion it a bit.

"So that means I have to keep my barbs all for you?", he quipped.

Hunter rolled his eyes and started taking out the food: a large ham, cheese, bread and several a little 'crushed' looking pasteis de nata. 'Sit down, Torrington, before you feel my barbs."

"You might want to call me Eduardo ..."

Edward flung himself down in a sensual pose completely unlike his normal, rather stiff posture, but rather fitting his new highwayman persona. He flipped the bottle of brandy in his hand, throwing it up and catching it at the neck again.

"No," said Hunter very firmly, caught the bottle as it was flying up and set it on the ground. He shoved a knife into Torrington's hand. "Eat, than I will consider allowing you to have a drink. Do attend to your elders."

Edward raised an eyebrow, then looked at the bottled.

"Elders? I think I must not have drunken enough. Last time I checked, there was only one of you."

Just to make his point, he flipped the knife (after making sure it was firmly in its sheath - he wasn't that sure of his knife throwing skills), then pulled it out and began to carve the ham.

Hunter poked Torrington's head with a finger. "Don't give me lip, young man." He sat down beside Torrington and helped himself to a slice of cheese and bread.

Edward offered him a slice of ham on the tip of his knife.

"Relax, grandfather. Take something of this instead!"