OPORTO, 22nd May - Naval Landing Parties

Stepping aside he covered his mouth a little, his palm over his nose. Officers going up places like that were a rather unexpected turn of events, but to be sure he kept from the entrance to the privy. No need to have some of the filth and who knows what, landing on his head.

"...n' .. if he don't come back?"

The privy appeared to be deserted. Cartwright took care to listen for anyone approaching before telling Branning to lower him back down. Now they could send up somebody small.

"It's clear," he said once he was back in the tunnel. "All right lad, up you go."

After a slight pause, Cartwright quirked a grin at Grattan. "Not so daft, Grattan. Officers are supposed to be the first ones in. Or up!"

"He'll be fine. He's our officer... an' a proper Terpsy, he is." He had his hand over his mouth, and wondered if he'd ever get the smell out of his jacket... and the muck out of his shoes and trousers.

De Guarde took a step forward, waiting to be lifted up, where he could then scramble forward. He thanked his better judgment that he hadn't taken to wear something he favoured or liked. Nothing would survive this sort of stench and be washed fully clean. " Ready, sir."

Oxley lowered his hand enough to grin encouragingly at the younger boy. "If you need a hand, I'll help," he said, before De Guarde was given a leg up.

Branning grinned and laced his fingers together again. He had to be careful lifting the boy up though, lest he accidently toss the poor lad halfway to the ceiling.

"C'mon, lad. Up y'gets!"

"I'll give yer a call." The boy didn't dare say more, not with the officers around and them giving orders. He nodded to Branning and prepared himself for the lift.

Reaching out with his hands he got the edge of the smaller tunnel and hauled himself higher, feeling something squishy under his palm. Forcing himself to keep his hands away from him now, he began to climb further, as silently as he could. So far so good, though it was getting rather narrower by the moment.

The boy was certainly taking his time. "At this rate the whole war will be over by the time we all get through," Deverel muttered to no one in particular.

"You can go up next if you like, sir," Cartwright suggested.

Oxley had to disguise a snort as a sneeze, which made Sam roll his eyes in turn. He really couldn't imagine the Navy officer taking too kindly to the thought of climbing up through a privy.

Deverel smirked. He looked up at the boy who was making slow progress. But would a grown man really fit through there?

The stench was nauseating. To his right he nearly missed another tunnel forking away from the first. It was covered in stringly little things of unknown origin, and quite possibly not plant life. The boy chose to continue upwards. Still the privy looked silent, the room above probably void of any French. He wasn't surprised. This wasn't the time to. The air was a slight bit fresher up here.

He grunted. The tunnel was only getting worse, narrower in that direction. It would fit himself and Oxley through, though might have them covered in the filth, but Branning was out of the question. With a feeling of disappointment he began to clamber downwards. "..Sir, i'um goin' ter check t' other way.., this'un is too narrow, up higher?" He called down in hushed, stiffled voice.

"Quiet, boy!" Deverel hissed, but there was a shout of French voices above. "Get down, get down!"

The French voices became louder as the youth scampered out of sight. With a soft grunt of warning, he came jumping from the hole. He wasn't convinced nor sure if there was someone down below to cushion his fall.

There was: one of the marines from Terpsichore.

Sam Oxley hauled the boy to his feet and pulled him away from the opening and back into the shadow of the tunnel without stopping to ask if he was hurt.

"Oh, ugh!" Oxley said, before he could stop himself. Steeling yourself to go up there was one thing. Getting splashed with whatever unspeakable filth there was to be found down here was something else completely.

Sam laughed at his brother in spite of the tension and the shouts above. "What's wrong, Tommy?" he asked as he kicked foul water onto Oxley's legs.

"Quiet, Oxley!" Deverel snapped yet again. "Quiet, all of you." They hushed and listened to the Frenchmen above.

The sounds persisted, though daylight didn't reach the men nor too deep into the tunnel. It looked as though something was thrown down the narrow tunnel there was a soft clang, whenever it hit the side of a wall. Whatever it was, it lit the way down, revealing for an instant what such privies hit from humanity. The smell was a distinct sort, as if something was burning or had singed other things in it's way down.

"Incomin'." Was a gasp from the marine, who'd just been used as the landing post for the lighter boy.

The ball of flame landed by their feet, flaring up in a green or perhaps a faint blue colour before it died, disappearing into the muck.

"I'll dunk you in the stuff, Oxley!" he told his brother, before grinning, and lowering his voice so only Sam could hear - hopefully. "He don't half like tellin' you off, Sam. You bin a bad boy ag'in?"

"Quiet!" The order was spoken in harsh whisper, snapped at the two boys that knew not when to be silent. The voices from above persisted.

The bright light had the youth feel somewhat blinded and blinking into the gloom. He held his breath - not too bad, when it meant he couldn't sniff the stench that way either. Were they still there? Waiting? Did they know that they were here exactly or thought that they were still further down that tunnel, theirs not connecting with the privies above?

"This will never work," Deverel hissed. "We have to go back. Outside the wall."

They were to come out, having done little but gotten themselves in a heap of shit and nothing to show for? The youth hesitated then with a quiet whisper he spoke:" Sir.. permission t' speak?"

The voices were quieter now, then silent for a long few minutes. If they were waiting for an opportune moment, they were certainly doing a great job of it. Lulling the men into false feeling of security, just to have them caught out in the open where there was no way to escape - if that was the plan, then the men were better of retreating.

"What, then?" the lieutenant asked impatiently.

"Sir..there's still a chance that we might get up there. Not through that one no, but there was another one branchin ter t' lar..no... left sir. It looked less steep n'... don't know where it leads, but we might be in luck, sir." He glanced towards Oxley.

The lieutenant looked at the boy skeptically. "Branching? Branching sideways? Can a man fit through there? Like him?" he added, looking at Branning.