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

".. Only after we have learnt all from him that we can." Answered Josef with a hiss, his eyes narrowed and locked onto those of Fandorin. "With the vast amount of experience.. should you not be the one saying so?" The words were spoken sarcastically, his sour mood taking the better of him.

'With my vast amount of experience, I have learned it does no good to cry over spilt milk. The man's dead. End of story. Besides, Widmayer, you are fogetting that my experience is of somewhat different nature.'

"...and so you should heed your advice." He said, and thought of Fandorin's irritation and anger when he had learnt that his 'servant' had gone to the army. "And in mind of that, lower your blade." He added, his smile there, pleasant but untrue.

Fandorin snorted. 'You are a true child of the court, Widmayer. How do I know you won't kill me the moment I remove my blade?'

"Tell me, what should I gain from slaying you now?" He answered, keeping his own hand at the height it stood earlier.

'Pleasure.' Stated Fandorin calmly.

"... Tempting." The youth answered equally calm.

"But no." He smiled. "Pleasure should rarely come before business, sir." In mock respect of one who acted as his master.

"Now, lower your blade."

'No. Not until you realise you are the one who follows orders.'

Widmayer watched Fandorin and then silently and slowly he moved his hand away, knowing that in such a way he was vulnerable to the man's whim.

"...yes, sir." He spoke, breathing in. "I .. apologise."

Just as slowly Fandorin removed the blade, watching the boy with narrowed eyes. 'Good. Apology accepted.'

Josef took a step back slowly, and felt a small rush of relief. He looked at the saddles and the food he had brought to take with them. There were some clothes that they would need if they wished to pass for other than themselves and some other small things that could come of use.

He turned and looked at Fandorin as if expecting those orders be given. The balance of master and servant had been restored.

'Well, then. Shall we set up camp?' asked Fandorin casually as he searched for the tinderbox. 'Why don't you get something to make a fire with?'

"Yes sir." Josef answered more submissively. He then nodded as the wood was requested to be fetched. "Is there anything else that you wish me bring, sir?" Like a growling mutt that had just gotten dosed with freezing cold water. He might've had a spark in him yet, but atleast he'd contained it where it was to be and not out in the open angering the man for whom he worked.

'No. That'll do for now.'

"Yes sir." He turned picked the saddle that he had earlier dropped and carried it further to have it lie, it's shape contained, on a root. He'd taken and then placed the bags of food, so that they would not become wet nor covered in dirt and that hopefully ants would not reach them and wondered if all the animals of the predatory nature have left ever since the armies arrived and caused such a ruckuss.

Fandorin dealt with his own tasks quietly, thinking on their argument. It had to be somehow resolved, if they were to continue working together.

Josef took the horses out of the range of their supplies and clothes to avoid a mishap in which a horse would chew through the fabric as merrily as if it tasted of sugar and chocolate. Bound at a length at which they could feast, but at the same be unable to pull themselves free or venture too far, he left them to their own devices. He would have to fetch some water later or take the horses to be watered, either of which would have to be done before sleep.

It was then that he disappeared from sight, busy on collecting the wood for their camp, and lost some in thought - yet not enough to loose his attention to his surroundings - about their argument and how it had set a strange tension between them, even now.