Training Day - the Girandoni

Edrington returned the smile. "I have been most impressed myself. Their ways may not be our ways, but they do the job given to them, and take a pride in it... Even the most junior Rifleman knows his trade."

"As they should do," Wellesley said firmly. "One thing I would not expect is a drop in standards, whatever tactics are employed. Thankfully they have proved contrary to that supposition, which means that those who argue that riflemen are sloppy and ill-disciplined will have to find another objection."

He lowered his voice a fraction.

"Maybe they lack a little in appearance, but as long as they fight I don't really care what they look like."

"Vickery and his company, and Sharpe's men, have been in the Peninsula for some months. They are probably due new uniforms - which would smarten them up, until they got them dirty in a battle." Edrington looked at his own men, with their scarlet coats and almost immaculate equipment. "The differences will even out when we have fought more, and marched in rain, and heat, and snow, as our Riflemen have."

Wellesley, who had cut his military teeth on many long, hot, dirty and hard campaigns on the subcontinent, merely smiled wryly.

"Yes, I should imagine so."

"I am quite pleased with my men, too," Edrington thought he should add. "They did all that was required of them in Pombal - though I hope they don't expect the next battle to be so ... orderly."

"It will not be so easy, if that is what you mean," Wellesley said. He paused for a moment, staring thoughtfully at the grass.

"There is to be a review tomorrow morning," he said after a while. "The order has not been issued yet, but you should get it within the hour. You may have someone collect the battalion books this evening as well. We shall not be staying here for much longer."

Edrington looked round at what was for most of the men a pleasant day's relaxation. "I see. Well, I'm sure we'll be ready to be reviewed. whenever you want us. And to move on." He bit back the desire to ask questions. There would be orders, and Wellesley was not a man to confide his plans before he had to.

The General nodded.

"I am relieved to hear it."

He glanced back up to the city.

"What do you make of the place, Edrington?"

Edrington frowned, and looked at Coimbra. "It needs work done on it - our billets were filthy, and the streets no better. It is worse than what I saw of Lisbon. There are some very good-looking buildings - if you could see them. And the countryside is fine." He wondered if his ride out with v Lossow would have to be postponed, if they were to move off again immediately.

"It is the same for any city in the country I believe," Wellesley said. "Though on the whole I believe Lisbon to be worse - it stank more, for a start."

And that would be enough for now; he could tell the colonel was eager to get on with his own business.

"Until tomorrow then, if not before. I'll let you get on. Good day, Edrington."

"I bow to your better knowledge of Lisbon - I was there only for a couple of days, and after the ship..." The General's dismissal stopped any further comment, and Edrington responded politely. "Good day, sir. The men will be pleased that you came."

Wellesley smiled, seeing as Edrington was had unexpectedly wished to carry in the conversation.

"Yes, I suppose after a week on ship anything would smell sweeter," he mused.

Edrington nodded as Wellesley turned back to him. "The 62nd were billetted out in the villages to the east - I rode out to see them, and check on them. Combining business with pleasure."

"Definitely sweeter by far," Wellesley affirmed. "And certainly more so than the city itself. You like to ride for pleasure?"

"At times - or walk. After one has been confined to a ship for three weeks or so, either gives you the pleasure of freedom of movement. But ... I think it is the movement, rather than the horse, that gives pleasure." Edrington knew that Wellesley took great pride in his horses: even the most bad-tempered of them. To say that he chose his for obedience and placidity...

Colonel Brandon was making his way over to the training field. His thoughts were occupied with his work, so he didn't pay much attention to the ongoings around him. He was looking for Sir Arthur as he had not been in his office when he came to see him. He wondered what had caused the General to come down here against his earlier intention.
He spotted the General there with Lord Edrignton and some of his staff, talking to the Colonel. He hesitated in his movement as he was not sure if he should disturb them, his matters not being that pressing. He looked around, taking in this merry crowd of green and red, knowing quite some faces, though mostly just by sight.

The was Wellesley's feeling on the matter, though he did take pleasure from the horse's company - liked to feel his mount was enjoying the exercise as well as he.

"Perhaps when we have leisure to you might care to join us for a ride?" He could not say 'with me' outright, and he did not know how far into the future that might be. "The local terrain does provide some excellent spots for a gallop."

Edrington kept his surprise from his face. "If we have leisure - that would be pleasant. The horses must be as pleased as we are, to do something other than plod along beside or behind the column all day."

Vickery had been on tenterhooks while watching the shooting competition, and when Colonel Edrington had set up his own display with the Austrian air-rifle, Vickery had been intrigued to see it in action. Lieutenant Jaeger had done well with it, and he was interested to see Cotton having a turn with it as well. He would have to find out later what he'd made of it.

All in all, he thought his men had put on a good show for the redcoats, and he was as pleased as punch that the shooting competition had been won by Rifleman Cotton.

Edrington was in conversation with General Wellesley, and Vickery hung back a little. He was pleased that the General had come down to see at least some of the afternoon, even if he had missed the main events. Still, the fact that they had had the day at all was some proof that the officers, at least, were working together and doing their best to get the Line soldiers to understand even a little of the Rifles' way of doing things.

[OOC: Sorry! A friend callled in unexpectedly for tea, biscuits and a chat. He's gone now.]

Wellesley continued to smile benignly.

"We'll see what liberty we have after the next few days."

At that moment he looked up and caught Brandon's eye, who had apparently emerged from Headquarters and seemed to be hovering expectantly. He nodded at the man, then turned back to Edrington.

"If you'll excuse me, I believe I am required elsewhere. Until tomorrow, then."

Brandon saw Wellesley nod to him, then taking his leave from Edrington. Surely, he did not need to have ended his conversation that abruptly. But the General was making his way over to him now and he hurried to meet him halfway.
"Came to see for yourself what brilliant skills your men have, Sir?"
He had heard about the proceedings of the day from some of the staff and that espacially the Rifles had showen their talent.

"Is there anything else that needs seing to, what with orders expected almost any minute?"

[ooc: sorry, now I have to go away for a while, but not too long, only to have dinner in the next room]

"Of course, Sir," Edrington watched the General cross to speak to Brandon. Well, he hoped and expected to be at liberty himself tomorrow afternoon - at liberty to ride out with v Lossow and the Girandoni, and Sharpe if he could be found. A ride with Wellesley and his staff would be much less enjoyable, he thought.

[OOC: and I'll soon be getting and eating dinner too, until 8.30 ish]

He inclined his head to Edrington as he took his leave, meeting Brandon halfway.

"Only to add that they commanding officers may send someone to pick up the books this evening," Wellesley said, falling in step with the colonel. "The other orders I have no ammendment to, and may be sent out within the hour."

He paused for a moment, the next few steps in silence.

"Have you heard anything back from Hogan yet?"

"I'll see to that, Sir." he said as they were walking back to the headquaters.

When he was asked about Hogan he contemplated for a moment. Did the intelligence officer return alreagy? He hadn't seen him in quite a while.

"No, Sir. No word from Hogan. But in his case that's usually a good thing, not hearing from him" he added in an amused tone, knowing only too well how Hogan could be when something was not going quite the way he had planned.
"When do you expect him to return?"

"I suppose not for a couple of hours, but if there is anything to report it might be earlier," Wellesley said as they wandered back into the city. "I'm expecting a visitor after dinner by the name of von Dorn, supposedly a Prussian banker."

He snorted dismissively.

"Though whether that is his true name, occupation or nationality I sincerely doubt. We know disturbingly little of him, or what his errand here is. I was hoping Hogan might have found something out by now."