6th August, 1809: Chaos breeds vagabonds

"No. You shall need to try harder than that." Estefania answered, smiling. "But is Sombra allows, she might give you one. It of course depends how well your men have treated her." She turned, relaxing a little bit.

"She might teach you a thing or two." She sounded rather innocent as she said so. "If you try to lift me into my saddle, my horse might spook and kick you half way back across this land, or the Lord might think you have injured me, and drive a sword through you. You would not want that, would you?"

"I most certainly would not, but I might want to meet a man who is able to."

El Atracador was not known for false modesty.

"I will gladly allow your horse to teach me a thing or two, if you will just allow her to stay in my company, my lovely lady."

"Well, it's a pity then unless you are a fast learner." Estefania answered and straightened a little more. " I'm surprised you are not riding an unruly, mad stallion to prove yourself, as so many men do." She said, glancing at him. "You know the sort, one that is barely tamed though there is no effort made to actually train him."

"Actually, I prefer my horse to do my bidding, and usually one mad male is enough in any setup. As you might have realized, despite my profession, I quite value my hide."

They walked through a light forest now, and if not for the situation, it could have been a nice sunday stroll.

"..sensible and smart." She arched a brow in mock surprise. "I must say... you keep amazing me, sir. You are after all not just a mere vagabond bound on getting as much money as the world can give...with as little effort.. and as little wisdom." She chuckled and gazed ahead again. "It is a pity you are not also a skilled doctor.. especially since your men are so trigger happy." Speaking of of course the two of her own riders that they have injured.

"As much money with as little effort, true. Just exchange the last to 'with as little danger', and you describe me quite well. And while we maybe resort to violence faster then you like, we also have people among us who know how to stich up a wound and to mix some medicin. Some of us are even decent cooks and know how to sew on a button."

He arched his brow back at her.

"How long do you think we would survive out here without these skills?"

"Do you? Why then has none come to take care of Emanuel?" She said almost accusingly. "..all you have done is bound his wound. and then forced him to exert himself. or rather you are still forcing him to do so.." She shook her head.

She wanted to say more, but aknowledged that yes, there was atleast evidence of them having good cooks or one at the least.

"The wound is clean, and properly bound. I admit walking might not be the best for him now, but he declined a mule, and you declined staying with us."

The man shrugged. He was not ready to accept any blame there.

"If you did not like how the wound was treated, you should have seen to it yourself."

"I am not a doctor myself though I have seen it at least in part, but moments ago you swore you had men more skilled in that." Estefania answered gazing in the direction of her fellow combatant. She hoped that the injury would not grow worse. It was far too easy for one to grow ill and die from such a wound, if one was not careful. Already she worried about Agostinho, who had been delivered to the English.

"I will have an English surgeon look at him...in hopes that he knows to provide him with a better service." Which could happen just as well as not. Some of the surgeons were butchers and some had actual knowledge that might save rather than kill.

"You should. Make him rest and drink some watered wine for a day or two. But don't worry too much - it was only a scratch, and he appears to be quite healthy. If you keep it clean, there is no reason to fear more than a bit of fever."

El Atracador spoke earnestly, trying to reassure her. After the report of his men, he felt a bit guilty about her other companion. He had assumed that the British would immediately come to his rescue, and that they would adequately care for him. But what if he had been wrong? What if they had even mistaken him for an enemy?

But they had needed a messenger, and their medical supplies were stretched already. Shrugging the self-doubts away for the moment, he changed the subject:
"We will be early at the meeting place. There you and I will light a fire and sit there, waiting for your lord. Will you promise to behave so I don't have to tie you up again? There is a small chance that the French will find us – if they do, you will do exactly what I say, or you will be left behind."

"I do not entertain the thought of being bound and see no reason to cause trouble so close to release, Mister. So you need not worry that I should try anything." She studied him thoughtfully for a few moments. "Why do you think the French might appear?...are they presently in that area? If they are.. .why did you agree to meet there? Do you not know how dangerous that would be for an officer of the British side!" Before she could get ahead of herself she stopped, took a breath or two and then continued.

"...What exactly would you tell me to do, should the French appear?"

He snorted.
"Because the only place where it is completely safe for a British officer is safely behind the British lines; and that is a very uncomfortable place for us to be!"

He raised his hand, almost pleadingly.

"Look, it is very unlikely that the French are anywhere near; we checked. But if you have been around out here a time, you will have realized that soldiers don't necessarily stay where we suppose them to be. It is better to be prepared."

"Now now, the last time I was behind British lines I cannot say it was terrible at all." Although she was hardly their enemy.

"...I do understand where you are coming from and perhaps as much as yourself, hope that for once the damned devils remain where they should." She had not wanted to leave Emanuel behind to flee, which perhaps with such a diminished force, she would have been told to do.

"Well, having an English Lord and officer at your beck and call might be rather helpful there."

He picked up a few dry branches.

"Glad we have at least one thing we can agree upon. If everybody stays where they are supposed today, and does as told, this will be a simple, pleasant transaction. Of course, the way my luck is running since I met you ... are you sure you can't spare a kiss for good luck?"

"I do not need a Lord and an officer to be safe,...but it does help to have friends in... any place really." She smiled thinking she did not need to explain that when she fist came, she was without the connection and the protection that Atracador suggested he had now. Yet this did not stop her.

"I heard that for luck it is much more helpful to receive a slap on the cheek." Estefania teased. "It seems that luck in such manner is slapped into the person receiving it and cannot escape nor avoid them." She arched a brow. "Would you like that? They say it works."

"Would you kiss it better afterwards? I fear your sharp slap even more than your sharp tongue, mylady. It would quite offset any luck you would undoubtedly bring me if I was rendered unconscious by your attempt."

He pointed with his chin to a small clearing.

"We will wait there, my men and your companion will stay out of sight."

"But, it would not do, should i nullify your luck by it. It is not known whether you would receive too much luck or whether the two would cancel each other out. Or worse.. too much luck would turn into all the bad luck you never imagined wanting.." She straightened a little. "Though.. a slap that would render you unconscious would certainly make someone happy." She said that innocently and then turned to look at the clearing.

"....You are not thinking of ...keeping my horses and my companion while you exchange only me, do you?"

"Undoubtedly, but I hope it would not be my men, who in turn probably would make you rather unhappy again. Though if it was not for their sake, I would value a kiss from you higher than any luck it might cost me."

He put the firewood down, took a blanket from his pack and threw it on the ground.

"Sit here - or rather, sit where you want as long as it is near the fire, but if you want some comfort, here is a blanket. While the horses might be tempting, I have no intention on going back on the understanding we have. I just don't want to tempt your lord to do something rash if he sees all of his pri ... of his objectives in one place."

"And yet, you would not give me freedom." Estefania said pointedly. She did move closer to the fire, but for reasons of keeping still warm and comfortable, as he suggested.

"How many did you allow him to bring with him?" She asked, holding her hands in the direction , but with palms turned vertical.

"I will give you freedom - for a very reasonable price, and without any further demands."

He quickly banked the little fire with stones, then added wood until it gave some warmth and light. Finally he sat down near, but not close to her, his weapons at the ready.

"I asked that he came to the final exchange alone, and that he should bring only his servant, if he needed him. Undoubtedly somebody will have insisted that he will bring more men, but unless they are the best of those green coated wood crawlers, the darkness and terrain should still tip the favour to our side. The only thing that could be uncomfortable is if he manages to circle us in - I hope that he doesn't. I would shoot you in the heart even if it is the last thing I do."

"You have named the price, and I haven't got the money." Estefania said, without an intention to offer anything in the place of it. She sat comfortably at the fire, glancing every so often at her captor.

"You will return our weapons too, I suppose?" She asked her eyebrow arched. "Once we are exchanged and cannot give that hair a new cut." She indicated his head with an smirk.

The smirk faded into a look of serious consideration. "...You would rather do so than bargain for your freedom?"

"If they catch me and I don't have you as a hostage, I have precious little to bargain with, but I certainly will have a point to make for my profession. If I am lucky, it will shock them enough to let me at least fight."

He shrugged and offered her a water canteen.

"You could have paid most of your price with your horses and your weapons - it was your decision to include them in the bargain."

"I told you before. The horses are out of the question to be left to you. You could not handle Sombra anyway." She shrugged and took the water canteen. She sniffed it for any traces of alcohol or staleness and then took a sip. Lowering the canteen she studied the fire, observing as the flame danced over the wooden logs, darkening them in the process and cracking some.

"You do know that a fire is a rather interesting thing for someone to try and inspect?" She said looking up at the vagabond. "At night it is bright and easy to spot, during the day the controlled smoke would suggest people rather than an accidental one. You are getting a little sloppy, your highness."

"Your lowness, if you please, since you insist that you have the moral high ground."

He poked the fire to make it shine a little brighter.

"We have a fire that your lord can actually find us, since I doubt he would know the landscape sufficiently to be content with only a description of the tree we are under. Furthermore, he can easily see that you are really here and unharmed, and while he is standing here, he can't see my men in the dark while they can easily keep their weapons on him and you."

He shrugged nonchalantly.

"If you prefer to sit with me in the dark, though, I'm very willing to put out the fire."

Estefania gazed at Atracador surprised and a little amused at the description he might have given the Lord. "Indeed. I withdraw my earlier accusation. You have thought this through very well. I apologise." She said in earnest and finally chuckled. "While the offer is so tempting, I believe I shall have to go for the fire to remain burning." She indicated it carefully. "I hope you will not take this decision personally." She added almost teasingly.