6th August, 1809: Chaos breeds vagabonds

This brought Estefania to laughter. "My my, dear sir. I am impressed. You do know your stitches and your ribbons! " She sombered a little and chuckled still. "I would not entertain myself with the thought that I should do all the work for you.. fix your kit yourselves. The army does it. So do we."

She glanced towards where Emanuel was held. He needed to see a surgeon soon and perhaps the English would be best at providing one.

"So do we ... if you promise not to talk of embroidery and other female stuff and pull your weight otherwise, you never will have to fix anything but your own stuff."

He was teasing quite openly now while he helped to take down the camp, secure all things to various saddles and put out the fires.

"I would talk of fighting and of riding of horses.." She made it fair clear that this was the type of riding she might be willing to discuss. "Much rather than that of embroidery.... but could I not have the privilege of having my kit sewn by others?" She teased back, surprised that from a rather terrible situation this had become much less so.

The man was clearly not defined by his profession. She would remain alert, to be sure that this was not only a strategy to catch her unawares, but it seemed near genuine.

"Well, I guess we could always assign your sewing to Xavier so that he can practice a bit more. He tends to sew the back in with the front sofar."

He grinned and stuffed a couple of clothes that had hung over a bush to dry into a saddlebag.

"So would it be all talking, or do you have any real fighting practice? I mean, apart from your rapier tongue."

" And then I should be rid of all my kit for the faulty sewing?" Estefania inquired and shook her head. She watched the others pack their belongings and just stood there having nothing that she could do. She still held onto the blanket that had earlier been delivered to her.

"...I do not talk of things I do not know how to do..most of the times." She answered , folding the blanket in half. "How well, and what more I can do, you will have to just imagine." She added.

The man scrutinized her closely, wondering whether she realised the blatant innuendo.

"I'm sure it will occupy my imagination for quite some time", he managed, quickly leaving to get her horse.

Estefania watched him go, a little bit startled. It downed on her moments later and with a quiet curse in Portuguese she stalked after him, having the blanket ready to throw it into the man. It was comical and probably the daftest thing to do, she was a captive and not a free ranging ...woman. Never the less, he needed some retribution for that!

El Atracador, focused on gentling an unknown horse, didn't hear her approaching. The other robbers shot Estefania curious glances, but when one tried to approach, another cuffed him soundly. Another got likewise cuffed for trying to warn their boss, though - it seemed the robbers expected some entertainment.

Estefania advanced on Atracador and then with a very quiet twist , snapped the blanked right cross Atracador's head, pretty much - if successful - covering him in the material in the process. That was for having impure thoughts about something she had said, when she had not meant anything bad!

Startled, the man spun around, cursing and with a long knife suddenly in his hand; he was hindered by the heavy fabric over his head and arms, and slashed only blindly in the direction of his attacker, but his first instinctive reaction was undoubtedly to kill.

Several of the robbers, suddenly realizing where this could lead to, cried out and one tried to grab Estefania's coat tails to yank her out of the way.

Estefania anticipating that the leader of the vagabonds would certainly not allow himself be caught of guard without reacting violently in turn danced to the side as far out of his way as she could, hindered only by the men, who in their wishing to help her were actually in the way!

It was very close, and she was glad that her reflexes reacted as they did. Having her body safely out of the way she lashed out to grab at the hand with the weapon, covered in a blanket. If she was able to grab at his wrist, she could stall the hand long enough to twap him over the head and tell him to calm down! That was the plan at least.

Twisting his right hand and pulling back, the bandit lashed out sideways with his left ellbow with all his might. At least the pull gave him a good idea where the enemy was. Without seeing, he did not know what she intented to do exactly, but he knew he had to subdue her before she could fully connect with whatever weapon she had.

When he felt the twap on his head, he did not realize that this would have been the end of it - to him, it rather felt like glancing blow or something similar.

Estefania doubled over and cursed in Portuguese.

Now having the sound to guide him, el Atracador tried to make the best of his advantage and tackle Estefania to the ground - fully aware that they were on a rock ledge. At least if she held a knife, the blanket would protect him now a bit better than just his clothes.

Estefania landed on the ground, with the man still on top, she wheezed still, trying to catch breath, her leg pulled up as she landed with the knee bent and foot planted firmly against the ground.

The bandit tried to subdue her, using his full, not inconsiderable body weight. This meant he landed even harder on her knee - testified by his pained yelp. Eyes streaming, he gasped, trying to adjust his position towards her upper body.

"Will you stop it and take a joke for what it was?" Estefania snapped at the bandit, this time in Spanish, trying to breathe under his weight. Her eyes narrowed on the man, hands moving to his sides only to try make him stop shifting, squirming and preferably not land on her bossom while he did so.

The man tried to get his lower arm across her throat and at the same time finally peel the blanket off, transfering as much as he could onto her. He was neither careful nor gentle - instead, his aim was to get an idea of the whole situation as quickly as possible, and render her unable to fight.

The other bandits had uneasily kept out of the fight after the unsuccesful grab, although Manuel's guard had pointed his pistol at the man; now they started to explain that it was not an attack, but as several started to speak at once, it took a moment before their meaning became clear.

Estefania, who had not tried to do much since landing on her back, let the men talk since it seemed that they would drive the message home sooner than she could. Her innitial reaction should have been quite violent, but she seemed to have had enough control at this time, not to succumb to it.

Manuel of course had been ready to leap at the bandit but remained put once it was made clear that if he tried anything he would be rather dead than helpful.

"That's enough. Get off of her, you bastard!!" Emanual yelled. He glared at his captor.

At bout the same time Estefania lost it. If earlier she was acting like a sedated cat, now she began to squirm, scratch, kick or punch, anything really to disengage him from her. She seemed to do it blindly too with little thought laid in the actions.

Only when he was satisfied that there were no other enemies, that Estefania and Emanuel both were no threat, and that she had had no other weapon than the blanket, die el Atracador relax a bit - only to have to drop down with his full weight an instant later to get this wildcat he had suddenly under him back under control.

"Stop this, woman, or I'll kill you!", he roared.

"Get off me, and I will!" Estefania hissed back. She was like a wild animal backed up into a corner and trying to do only as much as would help her get out of it.

"Stop this, and then I will!", he roared back. He wondered whether she had finally lost it and was now just hysterical.

"Get off, please!" She answered back, then trying to force herself under control, her hands slowed then stopped briefly, but shaking it was clear that at any moment that he would stall, she would begin to squirm and fight anew and would try to find his eyes and any of the spots that would cause severest pain, if harmed.

When she ceased struggling, el Atracador warily put his weigth back onto his feet again and stood up, leaving the blanket spread partly over her.

"What did you do that for, you daft woman?", he roared, sounding angry, disappointed and somewhat tired. Then he rounded on his men - or at least on those who did not have the good sense to appear very much otherwise occupied now.

"And which of you idiots thought that it might be a good idea to let her go ahead with that?"