3rd August, Room and Board

[sans nom]

"For pity's sake, old woman! Doña Castillo, no, no. I can do it myself!" Kaufmann was struggling to feed himself, seated properly at a table with a knife and fork. Glancing out the window, he saw a welcome distraction and much needed relief. He jumped up from his chair and pointed. "There's - how do you open this thing? Open the window, I need to talk to that man! Mittelstaedt!" His bellow could easily be heard through the window and the walls.

[outis]

This had all seemed like a much better idea when he'd decided upon it from within the comparative safety of his company. Now, lost in a foreign city with everything familiar getting farther away every moment, he was beginning to have doubts. Christ, if he'd at least still had his rifle.

A roaring shout sounded from somewhere close by and Mittelstaedt jerked round so fast he very nearly overbalanced, his hand going automatically for his sword bayonet – at least he still had that! -- but it was impossible not to recognize that voice and Mittelstaedt found himself grinning with relief. If nothing else, he was no longer lost.

[sans nom]

Kaufmann was already moving through the house to the door which, fortunately for his impatience and injuries, was already open.

"Mittelstaedt!" he yelled, a rare grin spreading across his face. "Thank God. The whole town's gone crazy. What the hell is going on?"

[outis]

"Kaufmann!" Mittelstaedt fairly bounded across the street. "Ain't you heard? The whole damn army pulled out this morning!"

[sans nom]

Kaufmann's face was thunderous with surprise. "What?! They can't have! What do you mean by 'pulled out'?" Thick-skulled Mittelstaedt must have been mistaken or confused.

[outis]

"I mean ran off back towards flamin' Portugal, that's what! Left the wounded and prisoners with the godamn Spanish."

[sans nom]

"What?" Kaufmann stared hard at him. "Why? When? Our company too? You're still here!"

[outis]

Mittelstaedt's face broke into a grin. "Me? I'm deathly ill, I am. Couldn't possibly go." Under the circumstances, he looked inordinately pleased with himself.

[sans nom]

Kaufmann's frown deepened, and then he turned his head and quickly looked up and down the street. "Get in here. And shut the door behind you."

[outis]

Oblivious to the change in Kaufmann's manner, Mittelstaedt followed him inside, staring around with eager curiosity. "You're staying here? How's your arm? D'you have this whole place to yourself? Does the sawbones look in on you or what?"

[sans nom]

"There's no room at the hospital. But you'd know that, bein' sick and all." He eyed Mittelstaedt critically. "What in hell are you doing - " here his voice dropped to a whisper "faking illness and staying behind? We gotta go and catch up with the march! When'd they leave?"

[outis]

Mittelstaedt's grin faltered. Somehow it had never occurred to him that Kaufmann might be angry with him for staying behind. "I couldn't just--" he broke off, flushing. "They left at daybreak. More'n half a day's head start."

[sans nom]

Kaufmann's mouth was set in a grim line. "Did you bring my kit? Where's your rifle, man? Doña Castillo! I'm leaving!" This last was bellowed to the house at large, reverberating through all of its rooms.

[outis]

Mittelstaedt started to reach for his pack, but checked, taking a step back towards the door. "What? No. Christ -- Kaufmann, between the two you ain't got a good arm! The hell are you going to do? And even if you did manage to catch them you'd be joinin' a goddamn forced march and you're hurt and...." he trailed off, trying unsuccessfully to hold Kaufmann's gaze and ending up staring at the floor. There was something else as well, something he had only just realized. What the hell had he got himself into?

[sans nom]

As loath as he was to agree with Mittelstaedt, the man had a point. "But we can't stay here. The French will just come back and take the town again!"

At that point, a small dumpling of a woman came into the entryway where they were still standing and said a few possibly rebuking words to Kaufmann, eyeing his companion. She seemed to decide that the newly arrived rifleman was an acceptable visitor for her invalid lodger, and she beckoned for him to join them at their midday meal.

[outis]

"Wha—where the hell did she come from?" demanded Mittelstaedt, eyeing the old woman with wary curiosity, "What's she sayin'?" Whoever she was, she had provided a welcome distraction.

[sans nom]

"She lives here. She wants us to stay for dinner, but we're leaving. Now."

[outis]

"But..." Mittelstaedt trailed after him out the door, dragging several steps before finally drifting to a wordless halt.

[sans nom]

Kaufmann rounded on him. "What now?"

[outis]

"I—" He was staring at the ground, looking frightened and faintly sick. "I can't."

[sans nom]

"What do you mean, you can't?"

[outis]

"I can't go back," he said in a small voice. "They'll think I deserted." Showing up in perfect health weeks later would have been one thing, but after just a day or two? Just look what happened to Mayden, and he hadn't even left the column.

[sans nom]

Kaufmann frowned, or rather continued frowning, but now his look was one of confusion. "But you didn't - did you? Didn't they send you back for being sick?"

By now, the woman of the house was growing impatient, and since she could not lay hold of Kaufmann by either of his injured arms, she grabbed Mittelstaedt's, chattering all the while in her incomprehensible tongue.

[outis]

"But I ain't sick, am I? What if they--" he broke off in alarm as the old woman seized hold of his arm. "What? What'd I do? Kaufmann?"

[sans nom]

"But if you - no, NO, Doña Castillo! He's not hungry!" He shouted as if the woman were deaf. He sighed in exasperation. "Just smile and tell her you're not hungry."

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