Road to Vallongo, 22nd May, Clearing the Road

It was just then that sounds of hooves thudding against the ground were heard. Willoughby had returned carrying news. The redcoats would come. Some were sent to secure what the cavalry had claimed.

Kenley and Peterson had just gone when the spotted horse arrived with its rider, though they were to find none of the Portuguese.They hadn't yet arrived for there was much going on in several places of which many French would be left lying behind.

The young lad of the marked horse saluted and gave the report of when and how far the men , that were sent to aid them, were. With that done he seated himself more comfortably in the saddle, glancing at the discontented Frog.

He looks up at the sound of approaching hooves before looking to the Frenchman. "it seems you shall be getting your answer shortly"

He returns Willoughby's salute before listening to the report and nodding. "Won't be too long then."

He turns to the rest of the troopers and calls out "the provosts are on their way to sweep the forest, when they get here we will continue on towards our lines and find our selves the rest of the regiment and a surgeon."

While Saint-Hilaire observed the spotted horse, its rider and listened, though they spoke not his language - being that it was French - but English, Willoughby withdrew with his mount to stand amongst his peers. They gave a curt cheer to Cathcart's words raising their swords, which were then sheathed. The battle seemed to have been over. The french had gone and were still on the run. With their officer wounded and upon the given command it was time to return, see the surgeon for their wounded, and see to the horses and their injuries as well.

It was a short while later that Peterson and Kenley returned as well, giving quick salutes and then Peterson giving the report of what they have seen. There were no French soldiers remaining behind but those too injured to move and those obviously dead.

He grins at the mens cheers, his hand moved to his wounded thigh causing a wince to flash over his face before once more looking up as he hears the sound of hoof beats.

He returned Peterson and Kenley salutes listening to that report before nodding. "very well, provosts are on their way to re-leave us get ready to move out."

The two men nodded and joined in the line of three, the men reordering themselves so that they could depart once the provosts would arrive. True to their word and luckily as well mounted on horses the familiar coats of the provosts soon came into view. Proud, of a stiff posture, and a cool dispossition the men rode closer.

Their officer halted his horse a few steps from Cathcart casting a glance at the prisoner, still seated on the large boulder and looking rather disinterested. "This is the only officer?" He asked indicating the prisoner, while he gave a signal for one of his men to come forward as well.

He watches the provosts arrive, shaking his head slightly at their stiffness, as their officer road up to him he would listen raising an eyebrow at the question before answering.

"He is yes, at least to my knowledge, though there could be other among the wounded and the dead in the trees."

"Very well. We will take it from here. You can..." The provost looked the lieutenant up and down noting the injury that the man had sustained. "..continue as you please. Thank you lieutenant." He nodded and motioned for the officer to be lead away. Orders were given for the wounded to be collected and the dead checked just to be certain that they were really dead.

Herrero shifted impatiently in his footing and thumped his front hoof against the ground, nodding and jerking his head.

He offers the provost officer the Frenchman's sword "he has given his parole though I thought it prudent to wait until we had returned to our lines to return this to him"

Once relieved of the prisoner and the sword he would give the Frenchman a salute with his sword before turning to his men. "Lets move out men before my blasted leg falls off, wot?"

"Certainly, thank you. Another one for ol' England holds." The provost officer took the offered sword and nodded approvingly. His words though seemed to have alerted the Frenchman, for he looked as though disturbed quite greatly, from his thoughts. He looked up, but spoke none just then, following the two men that lead him to a horse that he was to ride and not flee though accepting the word of parole as an assurance he would not.

A few of the men grinned, Kenley whispered something to the fellow closest to him on his horse, and received a soft scolding and a stifled chuckle. Grinning the lad proceeded to turn his horse about, as the whole of the troop was ready to move at Cathcart's lead. Willoughby, rode again to the man's side, but slightly back as earlier and as his order had then stated.

Some of the provost men returned carrying or supporting the wounded, but as it was, the spectacle would no longer be of interest to the Hussars who would be soon if not already, on their way back to their lines.

He lightly spurs his stallion and leads them off towards the safety of their own lines, the rest of their regiment...and the not so safe knives of the surgeons, without so much as a look back over his shoulder at the French that were being helped out of the woods.

"Damn glad to be away from those damned woods, Willoughby, this country is filthy cavalry country."

"It is, sir." Willoughby gazed across the land of which the terrain did not favor horses nor cavalry.A land which might be still the death of many horses, be it by their limbs being broken as they slip, or them being hindered more when the battle was on again.

"But .. we were still successful, sir." He spoke quietly reining in his horse as it attempted to go faster than that of Cathcart and had his reins even tighter when it felt as if it meant to nip at the other horse by his side.

"Aye, that we were, we did the 15th proud I think."

He quickens the pace of his stallion to a light canter wincing slightly as he raises slightly from the saddle with each stride causing pressure to be put on his wounded leg.