On the road to Oporto - 19th May, night.

Fandorin spied a good clearing and stopped his horse, making a sign to Widmayer to halt as well. They have not said a word to each other since meeting Hunter and the women.
'We'll stop here for the night.'


[OOC: aargh. Wrong account. This is supposed to be Fandorin.]

Widmayer halted a few steps after the signal was given and slipped of his horse's saddle not saying a word. He took hold of the reins of both of the horses and began leading them to the closest of the cluster of trees. He hadn't looked at Fandorin, as if expecting the man to do the same.

Without a care if the other man meant to sit himself a bit further to the right or left, or perhaps would choose the next trio of trees he began to unsaddle the horse that he'd ridden. Dropping the buckle that came under the animal's belly so that it hung loose on the other side.

Just as wordlessly, Fandorin set about divesting the pack horse of it's load, and the animal snorted gratefully. The silence was so strained between the two men, that surely a smallest thing would have it snapping.

Josef pulled sharply at the reigns of his horse when the animal tried to stray away from where it stood at the least appropriate moment. He cursed at it, not in the language used at most times when speaking with Fandorin. The horse neighed and stomped its front hoof unhappily but stood where it was at.

The saddle was placed on the floor and was followed with the last of the horse's kit still in place. He turned and tied the animal to a low lying branch, allowing it enough room that it could eat. He was unwilling to let it stray far, not with them being two, with there being possible thieves about and even the enemy - though the later less certain.

Fandorin listened to the discontented sounds of the other's horse as he tethered the other two horses. 'Would you like some help tethering your horse?' He offered sarcastically.

Widmayer glared in Fandorin's direction and while he muttered something under his breath, the later lost it's meaning being muffled so. He did reply then, in a calm and composed, yet far from a pleasant manner.

"Why.. I am certain I shall be able to do.. anything with the horses on my own. Most grateful for your generous.. offer .." And grateful he was not, taunting though, he was.

'Well, it does one good to hear that you are able to do at least something on your own.' Fandorin started unsaddling the horses.

Widmayer's eye twitched and his hand balled into a fist, nails digging into the soft flesh of his palm till they left half moon shaped imprints in it. He breathed in sharply, and had the less obedient horse be rather harshly moved and forced into its more convenient a place. He took the saddle of the other one, seeing as he had placed its baggage down already and had it unceremoniously and hardly needing as much violence, dropped to the floor.

"...What are you implying..." He spoke dangerously, straightening from where he stood, eyes narrowed fiercly on the man.

'I am not implying. I am saying it loud and clear.' Fandorin turned around to glare at the boy, his voice deceptively calm and quiet.

Widmayer felt his hands shake, lacking the coolness of the elder man, he could perhaps contain himself on a different occasion, but his nerves were frayed. What he had set to do wasn't fulfilled, and it was even worse than that.

"..You shall withdraw what you have just said." He spoke through his teeth, the saddles to the left of his feet, forgotten, the second horse released as he began towards Fandorin.

'I will not. Boy.' Fandoring stared down at Widmayer coolly.

He saw his hand lift to grip at the collar of the man to whom he was to play a servant and with whom they have gone, argued and lived as the orders demanded.

" You're a fool for trusting that man as much." He spat, his eyes aflame with the primal emotion, anger. "A bloody fool." His voice was harsh even if it was not so loud as to attract attention.

"My final request... Fandorin Erast." He glared, the coolness of the other man only serving to anger him further.

Fandorin's hand flew quickly to press a knife to just below Widmayer's ribs. 'And you are an idiot if you think I trust him, but you are more of an idiot if you think you have any goddamn business playing such tricks! You could have gotten us caught and killed. You stupid ass!'

Widmayer glanced to the knife. A mere flicker of eyes in its direction before his own were back on Fandorin's. Unafraid though his hands had refrained from moving further.

".. Shall I elaborate what has happened, or have you been deaf and daft not to understand. "He spoke angrily and lowered one hand from the neck. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth, but it wasn't warm nor happy.

'I don't care for your explanations, Widmayer! You are to follow my orders and do as I tell you. What you've done was foolish, even you must see that!'

"Foolish? Certainly not! " He hadn't answered the first accusations. Not yet at least.

"I ought to have learned more if given better time." He growled irritated. " Have I got caught? No. Hardly so!"

'Something tells me it only happened because you were damn lucky and because Hunter was willing to let you go.'

"I'll have you not doubt my abilities, Erast." He spoke acidly, and so the hand that had earlier withdrawn, had but done so to bring with it a weapon , a rather short blade which was made to threaten the other man. The use of his first name was meant as an insult, not equal, but even less than that.

"Luck had little to do with it..Were you , on the other hand, to give me better suited orders, I might have instead avoided going! Were you to mind investigating that man, were you at all in the mind to conduct more than festivities with our host, we might have known more now. Done more and had not had 'our' contact slain!"

Fandorin finally lost his temper and slapped the young man across the cheek with his free hand. 'How dare you speak to me like that?! I am old enough to be your father! You know nothing! Your orders are to do what I tell you! I didn't tell you to sneak into the damn camp. If you wanted to show off you'd have been better off at the Tsar's court! For you are only suited to show off to insipid court damsels and nothing else!'

Widmayer stared for a moment, stunned at the slap for it was not the pain for which it was given, and felt more one of humiliation such as slapping a child.

His skin felt warm and burnt with the sensation as did his cheeks both, but for a different reason. "I had wanted answers!" He snapped and drew his hand upwards. One so and the other to Fandorin's one that held the blade to his ribs. "Your orders. Were they of bloody value, I would have done so!" He knew he ought not to have spoken so, for the age that was to be respected and for the superior status no less, that Fandorin held. But in a way they were not soldiers as in anonther they could have been.

"A fine age you are.. and thus you might be loosing your touch, Fandorin."

Fandorin narrowed his eyes at the boy: 'Oh? Why don't you say that to the Tsar then, Widmayer?'

Widmayer kept his eyes in a glare, faltering. ".....I might just when we return. I am certain he would be interested in a report under your name." He spoke coolly.

Fandorin snorted. 'And under yours too. You forget that you lack one thing our Tsar likes in his lackeys: obedience.'

"Perhaps were we do have less of it, and more of the initiative we would now speak with the knowledge of that Frenchman. I would suppose something of that sort would certainly interest the Tsar as well." He answered with a crooked, unpleasant smile.

Fandorin answered the boy's smile with a serpent-like of his own. 'A good frenchman, is a dead frenchman.'