Exploring the Crown

Paol felt his face grow hot, for by now he'd placed the fellow's accent and could guess well enough at what lay, at least in part, behind his animosity. He should have known better. "Forget it," he muttered, dropping his gaze.

That was the most sensible thing the soldier had said thus far. With a careless shrug, Stéphane turned away again. "Fine," he grumbled and started to move off, only to stop suddenly and turn back round.

"Here, swine," he added, flipping the stolen pork pie in the soldier's direction. It was not a particularly well-aimed toss but he was more interested in putting momentum behind the pastry's flight. Anyway, how could one miss a fatheaded target like that?

Paol stumbled back, scrubbing pastry flakes out of one eye. What on-- He glanced down at the ruined remains of the pork pie, then up at the sailor, his face, if possible, even redder, but what could he say? Certainly he could not protest his innocence, not when he'd spent the first four years of service crushing rebellions, and the last two in the brutal subjugation of the Spain and Portugal. He opened his mouth, shut it again, then with a short exhalation of a laugh, he echoed Roux's previous sentiment. "Fair enough."

Foucheaux stooped to pick up the crumbled ruins of the pie, pocketing the one he had been eating before. He was not going to let food go to waste, particularly such delicious good fresh meat. "Of course it's swine," he said mildly. "It's pork pie." He grinned at Paol and took a bite.

"How fitting." Stéphane rolled his eyes and turned away, having had his fill of this foolishness.

Leaning back against the wall, Paol returned Foucheaux's grin somewhat weakly. Surrounded by the regiment it was easy enough to start to see what they did as, if not right, at least unremarkable, as necessary, as simply the way things were. It was different when confronted by an outsider. And particularly in this case.

"Where'd you find all the food?" he asked Foucheaux, more to fill the sudden silence than anything else. Though he was curious to know where the seemingly inexhaustible supply of pastries came from.

Foucheaux's eyes gleamed. "In there! There's a room with tables FULL of food free for the taking." At least, that soldier with the funny hat had seemed to indicate it was free, and Foucheaux was not one to question free food.