9th July, evening; Free'n'easy

Janet's smile took on a distinctly vulpine quality and taking a quick step forward she flung the armload into the current.

That wasn't what he'd meant! Damn! He tried to hurry forward but the river prevented him gaining any speed. Not that there was any hope of catching his clothes before they hit the water

"Cow!" The lad cried, just before stumbling over something in the river bed and sinking to his nose in the muddy brown water.

Janet let out a raucous whoop of laughter. "Better swim for it, love. You'll never catch 'em like that."

His shoes, she noticed, were still there on the river bank. Good, solid, hobnailed boots. Scooping one up, she tested its weight and grinned.

Swim for them. Damn it, he was trying! His ability to swim was basic at best, however. The best he could manage was an awkward, graceless paddle but it was better than nothing. He did manage to get a hold of his jacket, which would have been the most expensive article to replace.

His shirt, trousers, and stockings, on the other hand, drifted further away on the current.

"Aw, you can do better'n that, can't you? Kick for it. Go on," she mimicked, "Show us a bit o' leg."

Despite knowing better, the lad paused in the increasingly desperate pursuit of his floating clothes to turn toward the riverbank. "Which leg'd that be, then?" He asked with a smirk. "I got three!"

Now it was Janet's turn to smirk. "Oh, aye?"

"Aye!" The lad shot back, one hand dashing out of sight under the water, as if he was about to prove his statement. There was a pause, however, and then his face turned a dark shade of red. "Well, most of the time I do!"

"Hope you ain't so shy 'round the regiment," Janet retorted with a hoot of laughter, "'Cause your trousers'll be half way to the sea by now." The boy's face was priceless -- she could almost pity him. Almost.

He wasn't shy, as such. Only slightly more sensible. The officers were an unbearably strict lot. But his trousers... the lad uttered a number of choice words and turned to slosh hard after his swiftly-disappearing clothes. Scheming harpy! She'd distracted him far too easily!

Still laughing, Janet retrieved her kettle from the riverbank, scooped it full of water and turned back toward camp, the lad's shoe still in one hand. It could serve as a useful projectile should the need arise, though she rather hoped he would wear himself out looking for it on the river bottom.

Knowing how to properly swim would be a very good thing right about now, the lad thought as he struggled through the water. It didn't help that he was obliged to keep a grip on his jacket as he paddled. Retrieving all of his clothes would take a miracle at this rate!

He was going to get that evil bitch for this. Just as soon as he god his clothes back. In his efforts, however, the lad did not realise he was going rather quickly downriver himself.


The lad next appears here.