Re: 3rd August, Room and Board

[Paol Kerjean]

His whole body started convulsively at the sound, and he let out a soft, strained oath. It was just the girl. Probably just the girl. But for several moments he didn't move; partly out of fear and partly simple weariness. Then, twisting so that his good arm could reach Charcot's bed, he levered himself to his feet and opened the door a crack.

[sans nom]

She peered at him through the tiny opening and tried to see past him into the room. Once again, her arms were full of blankets which she held up for him to see. Had they even washed? She no more wanted blankets full of filth and vermin than her auntie did. Perhaps they could boil the blankets once the prisoners were gone.

[Paol Kerjean]

Oh. Paol opened the door wider, and somewhat uncertainly reached out for the blankets. Everything was so civilized -- the blankets, the wash basin, the beds, the house itself -- and he felt brutish and awkward and thoroughly out of place.

[sans nom]

She spoke to him in Spanish, adding some gestures in hopes of getting her message across. "Please wash yourselves before using these blankets. You're dirty and you smell." Her eyes fell upon the basin with its mess of bloody rags, and she groaned in disapproval. "I thought you French knew how to wash properly! It was better when we had officers."

[Paol Kerjean]

He could not understand her Spanish, and his thoughts were far too scattered to interpret her gestures, but he had no trouble grasping her disapproval. "Thanks," he mumbled, trying to ignore the burning in his cheeks, and retreated back behind the door.

[sans nom]

"What did she want?" Charcot asked.

[Keiju]

"Who cares what she wants," Bright grumbled. "But that basin needs re-filling. Tell her that. More water. For washing."

[Paol Kerjean]

Paol dumped the pile of blankets onto the foot of Charcot's bed and glanced at the basin. Water. Right.

"She brought blankets," he said in belated answer to Charcot's question, stooping to pick up the near empty pitcher. Then swinging the door a bit wider with his foot, he looked out into the hallway. "Agua?" he called after the girl.

[sans nom]

Manuela had just disappeared around the corner, but his call brought her back. "Agua," she repeated with a little nod. At least he knew one word of Spanish. She came to the door and held out her hands for the basin, eyeing the soldiers warily. She was not going to enter the room with them in it.

[Paol Kerjean]

Paol held out the jug to her, trying -- and failing -- to remember the Spanish for 'thank you'.

[sans nom]

She peered into the jug and scowled. They had used ALL of the water and made that bloody mess, without getting any cleaner themselves? She hooked the handle around her wrist and held out her hands again for the bowl.

[Paol Kerjean]

Paol glanced down at his empty hand, then up at her again, incomprehension written plainly across his face. A pointed glance from the girl, however, directed his attention to the basin of bloody water on the floor. "Oh. Sorry," he wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, but it wasn't as though she could understand him.

Stepping back, he fished Bright's shirt out of the bowl, making a half hearted effort to wring it out with one hand before dropping it on the floor and picking up the basin. One-handed it was a somewhat awkward burden and the contents sloshed over his hand as he straightened up, splashing onto the floor. Cursing softly, Paol moved to the window -- he couldn't imagine that the girl would want the bowl back full of bloody water -- and dumped the contents outside before turning back to the door.

[sans nom]

"Ugh! That's our courtyard out there, and our garden!" she exclaimed in Spanish, rushing into the room to peer out the window and look at the damage. Fortunately there was none, but she was alarmed to find herself inside the room with three Frenchmen. With a gasp she hurried back to the door, snatching the bowl and giving the big man a reproachful, wary frown.

[Keiju]

"She's a pretty one, ain't she?" Bright levered himself up a bit on the bed so he could get a betted look. "You should've grabbed her, Kerjean. A bit of sport might have been good."

Even though it would bring the Spanish running and primed for trouble.

[sans nom]

Sensing very well that she was being spoken of, Manuela gave the man a disgusted glare and rushed away downstairs with the pitcher and bowl.

[Paol Kerjean]

Paol heaved a sigh. "That pretty 'bit of sport' would tear every stitch out of your side," he retorted, grabbing one of the blankets and dropping it on Bright's bed.

[sans nom]

Charcot snickered.

[Keiju]

That might be so but Bright thought this a reasonable risk to run. Then again, he had run greater risks in the name of sport. He grinned at the girl, not bothered by her scowl.

"You really are a saint, ain't you?"

[Paol Kerjean]

"You know I ain't," he said, unable to keep a trace of bitterness out of his voice.

[sans nom]

"Leave him alone," Charcot snapped at Bright. Then he added, "He's right, too. She'd scream and that man with the sword would come running up here to do for us all. Though I sure wouldn't mind seeing a pretty girl." This last was spoken wistfully, for he was certain he would never see a pretty girl again.

[Keiju]

Bright rolled his eyes but lowered himself back down onto the bed. These two were absolutely no fun.

[sans nom]

"What's she look like?"

[Keiju]

What a wonderful question. The grin came back to Bright's face. "Oh she's fair lovely. Dark hair, dark eyes, fine skin. A bit tall maybe. But she's got herself a nice figure, she does. And not too old, either. I like 'em that way." He chuckled and added, "She reminds me of my old sergeant's wife, actually. Now there was a lovely thing, I'll tell you."

[Paol Kerjean]

"Was she a Spanish lass as well?" Paol asked a trifle hesitantly.

[Keiju]

"Nope. Or I don't think she was, anyway. I never asked, 'cause talkin' wasn't really part of the arrangement, was it? But I wouldn't mind havin' a Spanish lass too. Wouldn't that be something!"

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