Entering Coimbra and Fireworks

Cotton had been purchasing supplies for the Captain and was returning to camp. His back had been all right, but the battle earlier had opened some of the deeper welts, and he shifted a little. He'd have to get someone to take a look.

He shifted his parcels to his other hand and paused for a moment to ease his back before carrying on into the growing dusk.

There was someone coming towards him and he was going to give whoever it was a friendly greeting in passing them, when they seemed to disappear from sight.

He hurried forwards, to find Joe Newbury sitting on the ground, looking surprised.

"Hullo, mate, what are you doin' down there?" he said, offering a hand to help his friend to his feet.

There was somebody coming toward him on the road. Newbury blinked when he saw it was Cotton. Well, better him than one of the red-coats.

"I tripped," Newbury replied lamely, accepting Cotton's proffered hand. Getting back to his feet made the gash across his ribs twist and he felt warmth begin slowly seeping through his shirt. Again. Dammit.

"Is there anything to drink in town?"

Maggie hurried to catch up with Cotton, her arms also full of supplies for the captain. "You all right there, Joe?" she asked amiably.

"You don't look so good to me," Cotton said, concerned. "You sure you're all right? I don't want you keelin' over on me."

"What's wrong?" Maggie frowned with concern, but she could not see any injury in the dim light. "Here Gabe, give me those," she said, holding out her arms to take his packages of flour and bacon and onions.

"Just a bit stiff, is all." Newbury leaned on his rifle a little more heavily than he wanted and rubbed at his side. "'Took a thump from a Frog's musket butt. I should be all right in a bit."

Maybe a foray into town wasn't the wisest idea ever. He straightened up and managed a grin. "Foragin' for Cap'n Vickery?"

"Aye. A batman's work is never done." He frowned. "You sure it was just a thump fr'm a musket? Mebbe you ought to get it looked at, just in case you got hit harder'n you think you did."

"Let me see," Maggie said with maternal authority. "I know a thing or two."

Now he was just embarrassed. Newbury's face flushed hot and he shook his head. "I didn't hear anything crack, so it's not a rib gone bust. It's not anything, Miss, I know that much."

Why couldn't he have fallen in a ditch beside the road, or even not bothered trying such a stupid venture in the first place?

"Maggie!" Cotton was scandalised. "You don't expect him to get his jacket an' shirt off here an' now, do you? Wait till we'm back at camp afore you start pokin' around, please."

Maggie sighed. Had Cotton forgotten how much of the soldier's way of life she had seen in her years? "Fine. But we'll walk with you, Joe. Where you goin' now?"

"I was headin' for town, heard there was wine to be had," Joe answered, a hint of annoyance touching his voice. He relented almost immediately. "Suppose I oughta go back to camp and get my kit cleaned up."

"Ya want wine, I've got a couple of bottles t'share with you an' the lads. Enough to go round without spendin' money we ain't got." He was still a little concerned, but thought that Newbury would have seen the surgeon or somebody if it was bad, so it probably wasn't much more than he'd said it was.

"You do?" Maggie looked at him in surprise. "Where'd you get those?"

The revelation about the wine perked up both his ears and his spirits. Good lad, Cotton! " 'Bliged," Newbury said, managing a half-smile.

"Roper gave me one, and Jacklin slipped me a second. Day I was flogged, and I ain't had the... I didn't want to drink 'em right away." He gave a half-shrug. "We ain't all drunken sots in this army, y'know."

"Not all, sure," Newbury echoed. Then he realised that if he held his silence, he might be able to slip away from the pair. If luck was with him, he could, anyway. He was in no hurry for Miss Evans to pursue her notion of having a look at his side!

While Grey was still trying to figure out how to answer all of Willoughby's questions, the Hussar disappeared into the next tavern. 'Why that arrogant little...'
"Hey sarge, you coming? They are roasting a whole oxen in the square! And there's wine by the barrel!" A grinning Trooper Urquhart pushed a full mug at him. More troopers crowded around and one whistled appreciatively at the sight of a few portugese women.
"'course I'm coming! Have to keep and eye on you miserable sods! Carry on, lads!" He drained the mug and led the Greys further into town.

"Come on then," Maggie laughed with a tilt of her head towards the camp. "Drunken sots or not for company, I could enjoy a little drink myself."

"We'm comin', lass, don't fret y'rself." He shifted his various packages to get a better grip. "You all right there, Joe, or d'you need a hand?"

(OOC - got uni. Back later...)

Newbury squared his shoulders, a little gingerly lest he stretch the slice on his ribs too much, and nodded. "Just as long as I don't trip again, I oughta be all right. Thanks."

"Well, you stick with us jes' in case, mate, all right?" And if he wanted to slip away from them once they were back in camp, Cotton didn't mind. He thought Newbury would much prefer sorting himself out to having Maggie poke around.

Cpt. hunter wrote: By now it seemed rather certain that there would be a formal dinner. Which meant Wellesley would be kept occupied for a while, just as George wanted him.

'Just in time' von Lossow thought. He pushed and ellbowed his way through the crowd to reach the group of senior officers before they disappeared into the building. Adopting a official and serious expression he pushed a slip of paper at Colonel Edrington.
"Urgent message for the Colonel! Sir!"

Beer and Brezeln at the KGL mess?

Edrington took the note, and read it. His mouth tightened, though his eyes danced briefly, before he turned to the nearest general. "Please convey my compliments to Sir Arthur. I have been called away, and may be some time."

"Damned shame - first decent meal you are likely to have had all week - and some handsome fillies..."

Edrington nodded. "A shame indeed. Sir!"

He fell in beside v Lossow, both of them straightfaced to the point of anxiety. "Thank you - we can talk of fillies if you like, or mares or anything. But if there are any women there who deserve the term, they will be guarded like the Crown Jewels." Away from the staff his face and posture relaxed. "Beer - and Brezeln - and decent company and conversation... My dear Lossow, I am your debtor."

"Sure thing," Newbury said, nodding a little jerkily. At least if he was with Cotton and Miss Evans, he was more likely to watch where he walked. No chance of him tripping and falling onto his arse again!