Coimbra

The man groaned again, muttering a string of curses in Portuguese. Damn it, but he had to get away! His knife was in his pocket and he could not reach it, but once they were underway he could work himself loose.

George came back dressed and looking almost respectable with his cloak covering the wet state of his breeches. He held a knife in one hand.

On his command, Firebird bent her front legs and kneeled making it easy to mount her. George pushed the man towards the horse's back, then pushed him to lie over across it on his stomach.

Again, his assailant groaned. Brilliant; he was bound to fall off this way!

Once the man was 'folded' over, George made Firebird get up slowly, steadying the man with his hand to prevent him falling off. He took Firebird by the bridle and walked her slowly back the way they came.

Drat this well-behaved horse! The man carefully tried to loosen his bonds, gently so the he would not disturb the horse or its rider.

They crossed the bridge and entered the town again.
'I do hope you are not trying to escape,' George threw over his shoulder. 'I might be forced to harm you if you do try. Besides, I rather think the man we are going to see is going to treat you a little better than I would.'

"S-Senhor?" the man stammered.

Hogan, he must mean Hogan - or one of the other staff. He defintely had to escape.

George chuckled.
'Don't sound so scared, I'm sure he'll not harm you.' George paused, then added matter of factly. 'Believe me, you'd rather be questioned again by him, then being questioned by me in earnest.' Even if the man told him the truth, well then, it would still be amusing to see what Hogan made of all this mess. They walked slowly, but the town was not a big one. Soon they turned into the street that went uphill towards the area where the monastery was. George kept throwing looks back at his 'prisoner', making sure he was still there.

Damn it, they were almost back. The man made his decision then, and swiftly without warning lurched up and wrapped the reins around Hunter's next, pulling them both off the horse and the man went for his knife, taking advantage of Hunter being momentarily stunned to cut the leather that bound his hands.

It was Firebird, not George, who reacted first. All this commotion that involved her back and her reins rather annoyed her. She snorted and moved off, showing her displeasure to both men. There was nothing between them now.
George still had the bootknife in his right hand, but he did not move, rather waiting for the man to start running, watching him not unlike a cat would watch a mouse.

"I sorry, senhor!" the man choked. He was free, and the man ran at full pelt, darting down an alleyway and away.

George grinned to himself and ran after the man. Firebird slowly trotted after him. He turned into the alley and saw the man about fifteen feet away.

George sent the knife flying through the air, aimed with deadly precision at the man's back just below his left shoulder. It was amusing chasing the man around, but he had no intention of loosing him.

The man gave a cry, staggering as the knife struck into his shoulder but he staggered on, pulling it from his back, gasping, droping it an running on as fast as he could, fliging himself around a corner and out of Hunter's line of fire. He had to get into cover soon, or that little fool would kill him!

George growled and sprinted after the man. At least the wound seemed to have slowed him down. George drew closer to the man, but did not wait to catch up fully with him, rather her lunged forwards, grabbing the man's waist, trying to bring him down to the ground with him.

Wounded the man might have been, but he had not lost any of his teeth and jabbed his elbow bad hard to connect with George's nose, twisting as the boy grabbed him around the waist to escape his grasp.

George swore, but his grasp did not loosen. He felt a trickle of blood coming out of his nose, which, no doubt, would turn in more than a mere trickle in a few moments. George was more like an animal in a fight, when he was angry. He bit down viciously on the man's arm as if in revenge, and as he was doing this moved his body to press down on the man's legs, to prevent him escaping.

The stupid prat! Fortunately teeth couldn't get through a sleeve, and he bashed Hunter's nose again, taking a short run forward and dislodging the boy. He ran, and turned a corner again, gasping, bloodied. Dear God, he thought in disgust, the General had been dumped with an animal, not a man!

George was in full blown rage by now. He hated, hated being outwitted. He drew out his second knife and chased after the man. The rush of anger numbed any pain and he ran blood streaming from his twice assaulted nose. As soon as the man was in his line of sight again and not too far, George threw the knife, barely overcoming his urge to kill, into the man's leg.

The man cried out, staggered and fell. But the Hunter had no other weapon now, not another knife to throw, and he pulled it out of his leg, turning to face him.

"Stay back, senhor!" he cried. "It not worth my pay!"

Had he been less angered, George might have hesitated before the threat of the knife, but he was not. He kept coming at the man, not even pausing to wipe the blood that was still trickling out of his nose.

"You want to know why I follow?" the man snarled. Hunter was going to make him do something he'd regret. "I tell you why I follow!"

George slowly stopped by the man's feet and looked down on him.
'And why is that? Are you a french spy?' Drawled George, cocking his head. The man's words jerked him a little out of the haze of anger and back to the reality. He smirked.

"No, senhor," the man said. "I tell truly - it was man with black hair and coat. He says you playing with his daughter, so he wants me to follow. So he pays me and I did! Did not pay me for this though!"

George could not help it, he laughed.
'Playing with someone's daughter?! Can't you come up with a better lie?' He chuckled again, then looked sharply at the dark patch on the man's trousers.
'As for the things he did not pay you for, well, I did warn you not to run, didn't I? We could have so easily avoided this unpleasantness.' George smiled. 'Come, stop this nonsense. I'll take you to see the man who has more knowledge of spies, maybe he'll believe you. He will no doubt treat you better. I promise I'll even fetch a doctor for you.'

The man's eyes narrowed.

"No, senhor," he hissed. "I sorry."

And in one with fluid movement he reversed the knife stabbing forward up and hard straight into Hunter's groin.