6th August, 1809: Chaos breeds vagabonds

As before, he frozed, held the position until both sides were clear about the outcome, then stepped back.

"Good ... be careful - if he is heavier than you, he might still knock you about or drag you with force alone - even if you have already ended him."

He went back to his original stance.

"Now let's try a more experienced one who actually can defend himself, not just blindly storm on ahead."

Estefania nodded. She knew that there was a danger of being pulled to the ground by the weight of the attacker alone. It was a risk that could however be avoided if enough skill and the right sort of a reaction were put in use.

"You will try to block then?" She inquired, surprised that he did this at all. His fellows probably considered him mad by now.

"Well, it is a pretty natural reaction if somebody tries to skewer you with a knife, isn't it?", he asked, doing exactly that.

He still did not press her too much, and the cumbersome musket with its bayonet was certainly not his best weapon, but he still was fairly skillful and tried to keep her occupied for quite a bit before she got a chance to succeed.

Estefania fought not too badly and it was clear it was not simply luck, but at least some acquired knowledge that she used in the techniques. She did try to land a kick that would have any man succumb to the ground, a few times if only because it was one that might hurt but not injure.

She was tempted to bring the sword against his neck and order him their release, but his horses were not there, nor was Emanuel and she did not wish to risk their lives when they were so close to being saved.

The next half an hour, both sides were busy. As soon as he had realized that there was a solid basis, the robber had begun to add differnt types of attacks, pressing her harder, using his superior size and weight, and all the dirty tricks a soldier fighting an enemy might use. He called out instructions, discussed tactics and never grew tired of repeating things so that Estefania could try different approaches.

It was a testimony of how much he trusted his own men to watch his back that he concentrated so much on those lessons - and lessons they were. He was an excellent fighter, well versed in the styles taught in schools, but also seasoned enough to know the twists and tricks of a dirty fight for life.

If it was necessary, he had no compunction to handle Estefania rougher than a lady should be handled - although he drew a clear line at anything that would leave bruising or in any other way injure her, perhaps apart from soreness, should Estefania not be well in practice.

It was tempting on several occasions to try and drive the weapon all the way, but every time she remembered that she had another man who was a captive and that this man also kept his own, from trying anything. Her mind then focused mostly on the fight itself. From the first few, somewhat distracted attempts, she had suddenly lashed out. She had managed to parry his attack, managed quite skillfully to come around it and finally, after a rather great amount of effort and concentration, to come out victorious on a particularly hard part.

When he felt her knife slip through his defence and settle on his chest, he grinned broadly. Part of it was from the danger - he had not been sure whether she would really stop, and if she had wanted, he would be dead now. Not the most skillful shooting of his men would have been able to prevent that. But the bigger part was plain satisfaction that she had proven a worthy pupil and that she could hold her own now. He had gone as rough on her as any Frenchman would, and used more dirty tricks then most knew, but once she had seen what those tricks were about, she had quickly found ways to counter them. He was quite confident that the next man attacking her openly would rue the day.

Leaning forward a bit, making the knife press into his clothing and stopping only just before it would split skin, he whispered into her ear:

"Keep the knife, Lady Tigress. And if anybody should ever question where you got it from, then tell them you won it in a fair fight."

"And I will say I pried it from his blood soaked, still twitching dead fingers." She said with a smirk, though she pulled back, the knife still in hand.

"You said yourself ordinary stories, need spicing." She added as a ways of explanation.

He laughed openly at her sass and stepped back as well, giving her space.

"That they do ... so might I tell that I have traded it for a kiss from you?"

He held out the water skin to her.

"And they won't believe you." Estefania answered then after a few moments of consideration took the skin. She sat down. "..You could not be pressed to lower your demand for the money a little? Throw in something free instead?"

""Tall tales are not meant to be believed, they are meant to be enjoyed."

He took the skin back and gulped down some water himself. Then he poored some more over his head and shook himself like a dog.

"Sorry - I never renegotiate a deal. He pays what I wanted he gets what I offered. What would you have me throw in for free?"

He sounded curious.

"Perhaps some food, another horse, your apology... information about the French movements?" Estefania shrugged.

"Rather disappointing, I know, but that is what would be considered useful." She wiped a few drops of water from her cheeks, where they landed as the other shook.

"My apology? That would mean that I am actually sorry to have caught you, and despite all your faults, I'm not such a hypocrite. I am sorry that we have injured your men, though."

He ticked the individual points off on his fingers.

"I never take sides on a Wednesday, and you couldn't trust my information anyway, so information about the french is out, too. Our poor horses are nothing compared to your cherished, perfect, well-mannered and intelligent mare, and I would neither insult you by supposing that you would deign to ride them, nor subject them to the attempts of your own animal to better their manners, so ... no horses either."

He made a courtly bow in a manner that would not have been out of place at the Palacio Real, had it not been that with his rather long, now dripping wet hair he somewhat resembled a puppy trying to cajole his owner into play.

"We would be most honoured, however, if you would accept one of our famous boar hams, poached and smoked by our own hands, in case you get peckish on the way home."

Estefania blinked. She studied Atracador to see if he was joking. "You would actually agree to one of my 'demands'?" She asked, sounding somewhat incredilous.

"And concerning horses..." She added shrugging. "They may not be the finest breed and your taking care of them, does need some work, as probably your training,.. but in all, you get back.. what you invest in them."

"I get from my horse back exactly what I want, so it would be a bad transaction to give you a horse that does probably not satisfy your demands and get a new one that does only frustrate me."

He grinned.

"And I'm not giving in to any of your demands. I'm making you a perfectly ridiculous gift to confuse you enough so that you give me that truelly adorable frown you just had on your face."

"You would not happen to have a foal that you need to be rid of?" It was as ridiculous a question as the one before, but the day could not have been any stranger than it was anyway.

She shook her head. Sometimes real life was stranger than fiction, but at least it meant that she would live, and so would Emanuel and their horses would remain theirs.

He laughed.

"No, unfortunately not yet. My stallion will be very happy to give your mare one, if you are interested."

There was a brief whistle from somewhere in the woods, and for a moment the robber listened intently. There came a series of three clacks next, and then a kind of animal cry. He nodded as if he was acknowledging some conversation and smiled grimly.

"Forgive me, if I am not as excited about it as you." She became silent as she saw that he seemed attentive of something else. A whistle, clacks, other sounds she might not have understood but she knew what they were. Signals. And signals out of the blue could only mean one thing.

"So?.. got visitors?"

"Yes ... and your beau did not come alone."

He offered her a hand to seat her on the log again, well in the radius of the fire so that she was easily visible.

"Why are you not excited? You haven't even seen my horse!"

"Because you've defined the quality of your horses yourself a moment ago. And because I value my mare as useful and not as being bothered by the problems of being with a foal!" She answered then paused. "And I dearly hoped your men were not reckless in leaving the horses alone. You'll not be able to run fast enough should I find something amiss with my horse!" While she did not take the offered hand she sat herself down where he seemed to want it.

"How many men did he bring?" She inquired glancing briefly over her shoulder as if expecting him to come from that direction and of seeing him too.

El Atracador shrugged and stepped back so that he was no longer clearly illuminated.

"Too few to make a serious difference, if that is what you were hoping for. Stay here by the fire so that he can see you clearly, but do not go near him until I tell you so. And hope he behaves. Bringing half a regiment ... either he doesn't love you much, or he is too level-headed and weighting his changes too carefully for me to be comfortable with, and when I'm uncomfortable, I might make regrettable mistakes."

"No, I was just curious." Estefania answered and straightened a little, while staring at the fire. It was no use looking back. He was in the dark and she was not allowed to go anywhere anyway. She did not know where the other irregular was, nor where the horses were. To cooperate was pretty much the best she could do.

"Oh, poor little Atracador is uncomfortable because of a British officer?" She added a last, teasing 'goodbye'.

"No, poor little Atracador is uncomfortable because there is a headstrong, willful, unpredictable and entirely too adventurous for her own good woman mixed up in the affair. I have no doubts that otherwise we would be the fastest of friends", he replied scathingly.

"There he comes ... Over here, Capitano. Won't you join us in the firelight?"

El Atracador called out in Spanish, but he spoke slowly and clearly, and sounded quite friendly.

"Your own fault for capturing the headstrong, willful, unpredictable and entirely too adventurous woman." She paused and then with a last little jab added: "My heart goes out to you...poor dear." She answered in a fashion that sounded just a bit sarcastic. She glanced in the direction into which El Atracador had turned, more out of curiosity to see whether she could capture a glimpse of the arrival, and who it was, than anything else.

"Entirely my own fault", the bandit acknowledged with a deep bow, before adding irreverently:

"Will you let me buy you a red hat, then, so that I and my colleagues will be warned next time?"

He was consciously putting on his most frivolous and clownish mood, amusing himself considerably by trying to confuse the British a bit.