OPORTO, 22nd May - Naval Landing Parties

"Sorry we took so long, sir," OXley said. "Had to... had to get him cleaned up proper an' find his jacket, sir." Though it was probably obvious to everyone that it was Oxley's jacket that de Guarde was wearing, as well as his hat and sword shoulder-belt.

Mathew nodded to confirm Oxley's story, and glanced at Everett noticing his reaction. He managed to keep a grin from his face and presented himself with all the seriousness of a lad that was an actual marine, reporting to his superior. "Sorry, sir." He added only.

Cartwright nodded, finally smothering his own grin. "Perfectly all right. Go help Foley sort the new prisoners, Shepherd. Your mate may go with you."

"Yes, sir." He saluted again, hoping for it to look as smart as he saw the marines do it.

"Thank you, sir." He added quickly and turned to Oxley with a grin. "Come." He hoped he'd get to be told who Foley was exactly too. But Oxley knew, so it would be easy.

Oxley knuckled his forehead again, unable to hide his own grin, and turned to follow de Guarde. "Foley's his steward. He's the one who... who was in charge of me after we had that fight," he said in a low voice. "He's all right, he is."

"Alright, you'll point him out to me, promise? Don't want ter look stupid.. uh, I'm to salute him too, or not, being him's a marine steward?" He asked walking with purpose and pride.

"No. He's a Private, like m... like you are. Looked at me funny when I called him 'Mister Foley', bein' polite, when he first started tellin' me what he wanted doin', that mornin'." He grinned. "There he is, see. That Marine there." He waved, and grinned conspiratorially at de Guarde. "I think Mister Cartwright only tells folks to go an' see Foley when the 'Tenant don't know what to do with 'em, y'know," he said. "Either that, or he don't know what to do with us boys."

"Well, we'll do our duty watchin' over them prisoners if he needs it." He grinned at Oxley." You're nearly got rid of hard work, thanks to this. Should be thankful to me." He whispered back, in the same tone then straightened a little, a bit mischevious and teasing too.

"I'd kiss your feet, but they're kind of covered in shit," Oxley said, teasingly. "He probably only want us to do it to stay out of the way. Still, Foley's good to talk to, if he wants to talk. Or... d'you know cat's cradle?" He pulled a length of string out of his pocket.

He laughed and looked at his feet." Now now, they ain't that dirty!" Of course, he too was joking.

"Cat's cradle?" De Guarde glanced at the string without any recognition whatsoever. "No.. don't think.. wot' is it then?" He asked, not sure if he should know it and was now clearly making himself look like a fool because he didn't. They were still walking towards Foley and the French soldiers, prisoners of their battle, who were now mostly seated and all of course without any weapons on them.

"It's just a thing to do with string. Patterns and stuff," he said. "Y'know, you make it into a loop and so all sorts with it. It's fun, when it works."  He shrugged and put the string away. "Best see whether Foley's likely to let us do anythin' like that. I can show back on Terpsy, if he won't let me show you now, though."

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Cat's cradle: Illustrated instructions

"A'right." He grinned. "Hope it ain't complicated...n' you sure yer don't need a cat fer it?" Ok, maybe he would have been better just agreeing and quiet.

He looked up and smiled, feeling somewhat more nervous as he saw Foley there. He was a private, which made him the same rank as him and Oxley and Thompson, he imagined. It was just that he was also a steward to the lieutenant.

"..Andrew Shepherd.. reportin' ter duty.." He began and then looked over at Oxley, "Well we is. " He nodded to Oxley. "Sent by t' lieutenant to ye." Couldn't say sir, though there was a moment he nearly did so. He looked up at Foley, and stood all serious and stiff. Perhaps too much so.

Oxley grinned. "Hello, Mister Foley," he said. "We... got sent to help. I think Mister Cartwright thinks we're goin' to be in the way, otherwise. This... this is Buckles. The one I... tripped over, the other day."

Hopefully that would tell Foley enough without telling everyone else what had happened.

The two new arrivals were received with a mildly confused frown. Foley had not expected any help. And Andrew Shepherd...? The steward looked from Oxley to the one who called himself Shepherd, eyebrows raised, then he nodded. Mister Cartwright had sent the pair, which meant it was probably all right. Then Oxley's statement made it all quite plain.

"Glad to have the help," Foley said with a quick grin. "Ain't much sortin' left to do now, though. Mostly just keepin' a wary eye on this lot. 'Sides, I s'pose you lads have been right busy, if you been with the 'Tenant."

He looked over at the Tar like marine. What did he mean.. this was the man he'd told? He felt wary all of a sudden, and worried that he would be hearing from it.

He busied himself with watching the prisoners, their expressions and movements, as if one of them would suddenly leap up and run. He glanced back at Foley. The grin was there, so far so good.

"Crawlin' through sewers ain't the best sort of 'busy' I can think of," Oxley said, and grinned. "Ran into a... 'friend' of Buckles's, from his old ship, so's we thought it was best for him to be a Marine for a bit. So I'm a Tar, for now, too." Hopefully, that would explain why all de Guarde's Marine items were that little bit too big for him.

Ah. Now he definitely understood. "No worries, lads. Best place to hide's with this lot!"

Then Foley shook his head. "I'll bet the 'Tenant was first one through that muck, too. He's right, I'll have to burn his coat!" The steward eyed the pair critically. "Your kit don't look much better off, neither."

"..Sorry, Mister Foley." Again almost said sir. "We's.. been trying our best not ter get filthy.. but' was t' duty sort of way ter do it anyhow. Like t' lieutenant. He's been a brave man, sir..." Though filthy too. Smelly. Poor steward, might have a heart attack once he'd seen him in all his... dirtiness.

"..I mean,.. didn't mean ter say.." Sir? Splendid. He was as red as his uniform, with his embarrassment clear on his face. "..Thanks fer this. What are we to do?"

Oxley rolled his eyes. Well, it was hardly surprising, in a way... de Guarde was still used to people in charge of him being officers. He was going to find how different it was with Foley in charge... and he hoped de Guarde wouldn't remember the day after the fight and the very different punishment duties each boy had ended up with.

Mister. Foley grinned. "Mikey'll do," he said easily. "Mister Cartwright's sure no coward, though I'd be pleased if he had a slight bit more sense!"

He looked around at the prisoners and shrugged. "S'pose you could help go through this lot here - " he pointed at a pile of surrendered weapons - "and pick out anythin' that ain't serviceable."

"Mikey?" He looked incrediously at Oxley. He shook his head, touching his forehead. "..Um.. Mister Mikey." He grinned uneasily. "I've a question for you, if I may?"

He looked at Oxley. He remembered the boy mentioning their tripping, but it wasn't what he was going to ask. He slipped his hand into his pocket. Could've requested an explanation why the drummer had been put on such duty that did not concern any filthy and humiliating work. Again it wasn't that, that was on his mind.

Oxley grinned easily. "Sounds a'right to me, Mikey," he said. "C'mon, Buckles, give's a hand, then." He settled down to see what there was. All different things, from the look of it, from muskets to knives. "Hope them Frogs don't think they can get these off us," he said, glancing up in the direction of the prisoners.

"Ask away, boyo," Foley said. Mister Mikey. That, he thought, was a name he could get used to hearing. It was something like one of his cousins might call him.

"I'd like to see them Frogs try gettin' past the lads guardin' 'em," the steward added. "They'd not get close to those arms at all!"

Oxley nodded, relieved. He was curious as to what de Guarde was going to ask, but started sorting out the various bits and pieces of weaponry, putting good ones to one side, useless items to another, and sorting out things that needed a bit of work into a third pile.

"Is there any good need of these?" He brought his hand out , revealing in it, a handful of flints.

He nodded. "Them Frogs may try, but our lads will set them straight." He spared a small grin at Oxley. He might've resented the fact that the marine drummer got away with a lighter punishment, and even more, that he'd shared company with a fairly nice man, if first impressions were anything to go by, but thought none of it now. The lad has been a good friend in saving his skin and that was that.