OPORTO, 22nd May - Naval Landing Parties

"No, thanks. I'll stick with bein' a M'rine, me," Oxley answered. At least the hat fit now and wouldn't slip down over his eyes or anything. He looked around. "Hey, looks like folks are goin' back to their ships," he said. "Wonder when we can get back to Terpsy?"

"Maybe when start followin' our Tars." He indicated one of the smaller groups that began moving towards their boats. Amongst them they carried some wounded, and ahead of them there must've been the Terpsy's marines.

"Um.. there isn't a special way you drummers go about returning to the boat? .. Oh.. n' since you'll probably be rowin' .. you do know how ter row, do you?"

"Nope, you just get in with the other Marines. And I know how to row, though I ain't used to doin' it for a long distance like some of you Tars are. You got me sword an' everythin'? 'Cause I want to stick with the other Terpsies, if we can. Safer that way, I think." He made sure he had everything he needed, including the cutlass that was going to replace the one de Guarde had mislaid.

"Got it all here on me." He held one hand up and then patted the sword, pointed to the rest that he'd been given and checked just to be sure. "Yep, everything you gave me here now." He straightened a bit more before he began after the Tars that were distinctively theirs and the marines that accompanied them.

"Hm...used not ter Row when I was a middie. Well, I know how to do that." He chuckled softly more at ease with the many men from the Terpsy close by. He noticed there to be the Confidence's own marines and then, just as his smile faded, he noticed the midshipman. "...might be able to point out their ship fer you." He murmured looking a lot less happy.

Oxley glanced quickly at the lad before looking to see what had discomposed him. "I don't think he's seen us, but if he does, look down, 'cause you've had an awful bang on the head an' you don't feel so good. And we's nearly at our boat anyhow. Shame the Frogs couldn't've got him."

He took de Guarde's arm as though helping the other lad keep his balance. "He won't be 'specting to see you in a red coat, though, neither."

"Shame. I'd have payed a frog for that... know that ain't proper talk.. but I've had let the Frog who'd done it go.. enjoy 'is freedom for his success." He bowed his head a little as if indeed having some trouble to walk unassisted. This could not ever have happened in the past. Friends were something! Just because Oxley was one, he was here and embarking on presenting an illusion of being someone that he was not.

The midshipman did stop, he gazed in the direction of the two boys recognising young Oxley perhaps, though not by name, just face. He'd seen him before with that dirt covered lad. He was still suspicious of the boy, though he'd not known as what he was. Oxley would have to be careful the next time they might meet. Especially if Mister Hollow would realise he had been fooled. He was not easy to forget nor forgive.

"..he watchin'." He managed to catch the form of the midshipman in question into his vision,just barely.

But then at last the midshipman turned and shook his head. He had his duties, not hunting ghosts was one. But young Oxley, and some of the Terpsy's crew. They were moving onto his list.

"You marines are somethin'.. Tom. Really are."

Oxley glanced at the midshipman before ducking his head as though encouraging the other boy onwards.

"If he's watchin', limp a little or summat. Means I have to look at you, so's he can't see me face. Not that I'm wearin' the same clothes I was earlier." Well, he was, but he wasn't wearing the most obvious things: his Marine jacket and hat with a pipeclayed sword-belt. "All I can say is, I hope we never run into that ship ever again. I dunno how you managed to survive with him around. Mean bastard."

He nodded, putting on a concerned act, in case the midshipman was still looking. "I... I tole you that I tole Mister Cartwright 'bout fightin' with you, didn't I?" he said. "Only tole him after he set me punishment duty, mind, an' unoffic'lly. He was all right 'bout it... though I reckon he knew I'd bin fightin' afore I said. Asked me what I'd fallen over, when I come up on p'rade that mornin'." He grinned. "Never 'spected him to lie hisself, though, not like that. He's really summat, ain't he?"

"He is. n' not goin' off all angry because you're lettin' me borrow yer things. Some other lieutenant wouldn't care if some Tar was bein' chased by his past 'friends' n' would just say ter stuff it or summat. Or he'd give orders ter others and... you told him?" He was surprised yes, but even more so that the reaction wasn't bad. He smiled again though limped and leaned against Oxley just enough that it looked natural and logical, but no more that it wouldn't look made.

"N'.. you's summat too , you know. Letting me borrow your coat. Not..not askin' questions, but jus' helpin' me out. Thanks. ....n' " He glanced up just briefly before dropping his head lower again. The hat still remained seated on his head, which was good. Chasing after it, because it went rolling would really not be something that he wanted to do. Draw too much attention to them though it would. "...Mister Hollow.. you know, it's a good thing he's too dumb not ter pass t' lieutenant's exam.. up till now yet. ..Dunno what should happen.. when it does."

"I never tole him no names, mind," Oxley said, suddenly worried De Guarde might think he was some of tale-teller. "An' he was the one what said you was Andrew Shepherd, and that-all was afore I let you have any of me kit, weren't it?" He put his arm around de Guarde as though to support him.

"I ain't askin' question 'cause I figured you... you mightn't want to say here. Though I'd like to know, if you want to tell me." He gave a hitch of the shoulder that might be mistaken fro a shrug by de Guarde but hopefully wouldn't be seen by anyone else. "Reckon you... you could take that exam an' pass it, easy. I hope... well, I hope you get the chance."

"True, that it was.. but you still let me and...I think you lot have scored fine with that sort of lieutenant. Which is only right. " He was complimenting, and that he was slowly getting used to doing. It was a lot better than seeking out the bad in every person, he reckoned.

Receiving a good opinion from another was perhaps still slightly better than giving it. He smiled and made a heavier limping step before he spoke again. The pair was much closer to the beach now, and the first boat already pushed away, another waiting for the men and boys to board it.

"You're real nice to say that, Tom. I hope I'll get it too though, to see if you was right." He glanced briefly in the direction of the midshipman, but he was gone, possibly boarded in his own boat, or rounding up the escapees. The later wouldn't surprise him.

"..I..." He wondered if he could tell it to Oxley. It wasn't something he was glad to remember, nor something for any ears. Though, he had to admit, Oxley wasn't just any ears. Just as Thompson wasn't.

"Wouldn't have bin right, him sayin' you was Sticks, an' you not bein' a Marine. 'Sides, it was the best way to get that middy from lookin' at you too hard. I don't reckon he knows any M'rine drummers, see. And sure as hell he wouldn't 'spect you to be wearin' a red jacket. So you got to be someone else, so far as he thinks."

He sighed. "Stupid bloody bastard, him. that sort should get drownded at birth. An' I reckon you'd do much better'n me at that exam thing. For sure, I wouldn't know what to if we was caught in a storm on a lee shore. Well, 'part from holdin' on and prayin' for dear life, I wouldn't." He grinned.

"No , he wouldn't care for a drummer or a marine. They're as good if they're doing duty on guardin' someone he'd sent there.. but they are nothin' but....well pawns ter 'im, really." That's what the impression was to the lad, of course he could've been mistaken in his judgement.

They were in luck though, for whatever reason the midshipman had earlier stood there to cast his eyes in their direction, he was now elsewhere and probably too preoccupied to be of any more bother.

"What.... you mean that we're not suppose to say that? n' here I thought holdin' on and prayin' for dear life was the correct answer." He scowled." You full sure it aint?"

Oxley grinned. "Most folks don't take no notice of us M'rines apart from seein' we's wearing' the right uniform. The Captain' on me last ship didn't know me name, even an' I was the oldest drummer on her by the time I got discharged to Terpsy."

He glanced around again. "Well, holdin' on for dear life's all right when you ain't tryin' to get the ship off it an' back out to sea. If all anyone did was that, reckon the ship'd strike an' get broke up an' everyone'd drown. The officers know how to get her off, which I don't. And there's all sorts of other things they know that I don't, me not bein' even a sailor, see. Can tie some of the knots and bends, but not like you Tars do. I mean, I can tie a reef knot, but there ain't no need for me to have to tie it when reefin' sail, like you lot do."

Thank Heavens the middy had gone now. "Here's the red cutter," he said. "That's ours. You want any help gettin' in... if you's limpin' like you was an' he's lookin', it might be best," he added in a quieter voice.

"Best you help me then. Don't need to make stupid mistake, us." He leaned a bit further against Oxley, as if resting his weight against him, so exhausted and injured as he was.

"You know." He begun more quietly." ..Not even them.. our sailors have yet figured it out." He indicated at how most that looked had been started, or hadn't even noticed that that young limb was Oxley and the other one was not.

"All right, then," he said and prepared to held de Guarde into the boat. "Don't forget to sit in the middle.... next to Mallory might be best, like," he said and shrugged as one of the sailors gawped at them.

"Don't think you'm gettin' away without rowin, like," the older man said, and Oxley rolled his eyes. "We swapped places for now, mate. I'm rowing and he ain't. Can't you see he's a M'rine, least for now?"

"What've you got him all dressed up like that for anyhow?" the Tar demanded, spitting a stream of tobacco juice into the water.

"Just 'cause, that's all. You can ask Mister Cartwright if you need," Oxley said, which made the other man shrug. He scrambled into the boat himself, finding a seat next to McEwen, who was nursing a nasty cut to his arm.

Sit in the middle, the boy did smile at that. Even with only a splitting headache and some blood on the back of his neck, he did not feel like rowing at all. Though of course if he had been well and not dressed in a marine's coat he would have rowed and wouldn't have complained either. Not beyond the usual Tar's complaint that was as natural as their like for drink.

He was thankful for Oxley's replies. They betrayed nothing, though they must've left the Tar more confused than before he'd asked. He gave a shrug in response when the man's eyes were on him, unwilling to explain further either.

Watching tabacco juice go splat into the water, over the side, he shook his head. Safely seated at the middle , with the help of the marine drummer, he gave a sigh of relief.

A few boats further from them the Confidence's were. They looked somber, dark faced, a proper assembly of no goods rowing in silence. Not one had cursed maybe, but the looks on their faces could of well enough killed.

"Cheerful bunch, they look," Oxley said, indicating Confidence's boat with a jerk of his head. He took the heavy oar with a sigh. He didn't mind rowing, much, but it was going to be a pretty long pull back to Terpsy, and he wasn't used to it like the Tars were.

"Out oars! Give way together!" Chandos called from the tiller once he was sure there was nobody else to come, and he sighed, following the motions of the man in front of him.

"Lucky you got that bang on the head," he muttered to de Guarde.

"Sorry. I'll.. pay ye back for that'un." He whispered back. Well, being a marine had it perks alright. Watching all the Tars row, he needed to do nothing more but sit there and be careful not to be in the way, which he was doing a fair enough job of.

"they's always like that." He indicated the sour faced men seen from afar. "That there.. that's my former ship." He pointed at one, that swayed gently on the waves, obscured in part by Defiant's (Defiance's?) own. "..'least they were.. when I was there." He murmured hushed and then looked at where Terpsy was, sighing in relief. A little more and they were home.

"'S all right, mate," Oxley said a few strokes later, trying not to bring Chandos' disapproval down on him and the other oarsmen. He felt sorry for them if they were always like that, and suddenly wondered how his brother was, realising that in all the worry about keeping de Guarde away from Confidence's bullying midshipman, he hadn't even said goodbye to Sam. He hoped it wouldn't be another four years before they met up again.

He glanced back over to the other two ships. He couldn't wave at Defiance so a smile and half-shrug had to suffice. He missed Sam already.

They were nearing the ship, and would soon pull alongside her and then have themselves hauled up on her deck. The boats began to disperse left and right of them, each taking direction to their own. Midshipmen were seen standing at the very front, gazing ahead, shouting orders or some, seated lower in the boats, with their bloodied faces and a lieutenant at the stern instead.

De Guarde had gone silent, observing the slow rise and fall of the sea, the roll of the water once the oars had hit her and thrust more water away, thus propelling their boat forward. A steady rhythm thatwas just so calming, so sleep inducing that the lad could have sworn that if it took longer, he would be fast asleep.

He hadn't noticed Oxley's glance and wondered for a moment why he was interested in the ships, that weren't his own. Well, other perhaps by the fact it was often an idea to compare, a small curiosity of a lad to see how things were on another ship, how she looked on the outside and thus make a judgement of how she was lead. But Oxley's eyes betrayed no such curiosity, and more they seemed to speak of a longing or was it just De Guarde's imagination.

He thought back to recall a strange meeting of not one but two Oxley's. How could he have been so foolish! There was a lad, mayhep just on one of those ships that Tom missed on seeing. Missed in part, as he had been busy with himself. He frowned for he felt guilty and he felt upset. Not with Oxley in no manner of form, but with himself.

And then they were just by the side of the ship, the first men being let to climb up. He looked at the boy, feeling the stronger sway of their boat and murmured. "..We'll see them again.. the ships. Probably.. prolly they'll have us patrol these waters in pairs, or summat. Maybe even let us back on shore, when all the work on the wounded is done. I bet.. we'll be mixin' 'round together again." And though he did not indicate any man or boy that Oxley could meet then, for he was not sure in his speculation as what had drawn attention of him, he did hope to offer in a way a vague form of a word of comfort.

"Toss your oars!" came the command and Oxley realised suddenly that they were right by Terpsy's side, and he had no idea how they'd got there. He pulled his oar p to the vertical, a little unsteadily, and glanced at de Guarde. "What? Oh. 'S all right. I'm all right." At least he knew which ship Sam was on: Defiance. And, if nothing else, he could maybe ask someone to write a letter for him, or something. Though Sam would probably think that a soppy sort of thing to do, so maybe he wouldn't.

And Mister Chandos was climbing back aboard, as nimble as a monkey.

At least he'd seen Sam, which was something, even if they hadn't had a long conversation and been able to catch up with what they'd each been doing.

He received a poke in the back from the sailor sitting behind him and belatedly lay his oar down, preparing to scramble aboard himself and let the sailors do the work of hoisting the boat back aboard.

De Guarde followed the other marines, no longer inclined to feign feeling poorly. They were too far and anyways, it wasn't as if it mattered when the ships my never meet again. Which was a sad aspect what Sam Oxley was concerned. He just hoped that maybe the lad would be able to have shore leave or something and the two could meet in a better sort of surroundings.

He climbed up ,careful of the drummer's sword and hat, and the coat tails. The slightly lengthy pant legs too were causing a bit of trouble for the lad, but with a tug or two he managed to secure them high enough for long enough, so that he was on board before they slipped down again.

"..Think I can give ye these back." He said once the two boys were both secure on deck.

"You might want this back an' all," Oxley replied, pulling the cutlass crossbelt over his head even as he stepped away from the rail to let the sailors do. what they needed to do to get the boat in. "Your head any better, mate?" he asked, holding the crossbelt and cutlass out. "And I think we got away with it, like," he added with a quick grin. "How did you like bein' a M'rine, then, Buckles?"

"Thanks.. n' you this." Mathew grinned as he returned Oxley's own sword back and was about to return most of the other things he had borrowed from the boy. He too had stepped out of the way of the sailors, seeing as otherwise he might've been nudged over. If it were only on the floor it would not have been as bad, but he had no intention to attempt swimming in anything, be it a marine's coat or merely his slops. He still could not swim and the water frightened him.

"Is hurtin' a bit less I think. Certainly feels cleaner thanks to you." He smiled, not daring to reach behind his head to touch the injured spot. He held the coat to the young marine and grinned. "Yer know.. I'd love ter be one fr every time we need to come or go off with a boat. Sure beats rowin'.. that does." He nodded in the direction of the rail and the sea beyond.

He accepted his kit that de Guarde held out for him to take. "You's all right, really," he said. "You feelin' any better now? 'Part from your head, I mean?" He pulled his jacket on; he wasn't going to risk being caught on deck without it, even though he didn't really think anyone would say anything. After all, it was partly Mister Cartwright's own fault that he'd lent his kit out to de Guarde. And it had worked; the Confidence's midshipman hadn't recognised the ex-middy in Oxley's uniform.

"You'd hate it really, I reckon. All the drill and stuff they have to do to be any good at boat landings and things," he said. "C'mon, I reckon it must be nearly dinner time."