Following the French - 25th Morning, Afternoon, Night

"Indeed, and you shall commit a disservice to it in which way you shall take us across land to return to our army." He smiled, yet not as a friend would to another. "You shall begin by inquiring where they have hidden more of their food. Which we are then going to retrieve and..leave."

He watched as one of his soldiers had returned, made a curt report on the state of the wounded man and the girl, then turned and left again. "We shall leave them alive if your service to us, and their cooperation.. is of a satisfactory kind. Shall you not rejoice in that?" He smirked at last.

"Rejoice? What a strange word to use. You are aware, I hope, that despite the name you have been fortunate enough to receive from your parents, it is not necessary to use such ecclesiastical language, my little Saint?" Hunter turned away abruptly and walked into the house. "Shall we see about that food?"

"There is little left in their house." Saint-Hilaire commented, sounding much less amused by the play of his name that Hunter deliberately pointed out. It wasn't though that he would give great weight or thought to it, as he then turned to follow the prisoner.

Entering through the door he nodded to the two soldiers, one standing on each side, and taking great care to observe their surroundings, the adrenaline come from having nearly been caught leaving them wild awake. He walked in further, glancing to the door that lead into the room which now sported all of the prisoners and indicated that they should both go there.

What Hunter would see inside, would have been a girl bound and with bruised cheeks, a bump on her head where she had been struck. There was some damage to her attire. Her dress rode higher and had a tear at the side, her sleeve was shifted downwards to reveal more of her shoulder. The soldiers looked at though they have meant to untie her, and had only not had enough time.

Beside her lay the injured man, with a straw pillow propped under his head, his shirt removed and some rags produced to tie around the injured shoulder. By no means any of the men could account themselves as being surgeons. And there too of course was Alberto, leaning over the injured friend.

"We have intercepted them bringing supplies to their home.." He looked at Hunter. "So there must have a storage placed elsewhere, conveniently hidden from the army, I believe. Yours or mine."

Hunter nodded and crouching by the three Portuguese, said:
"Listen to me, he wants to know where he could get some food. I know that you probably don't have much yourself, but so far he seems to be willing to let you go and leave when he gets some supplies. I have some money with me, which I will try to pass to you discreetly, so that they don't take that from you as well."

"Money I cannot eat." The man answered curtly, gazing at Hunter then sparing a quick glance to the French officer whom he would have cursed and wished to be found by the Portuguese militia. He tore his gaze away from him and relented somewhat. "...They will take the food and slay us all, rape my sister!..To the devil with them!"

He made a gesture that accompanied that thought. "...How can we be assured that they will leave if we give them food, without harming us?" He nodded to his sister. He was unwilling to feed the French soldiers, yet if it saved these people's lives, maybe he could well be swayed to do it.

"You can't be assured completely. But I think I succeded in persuading their officer that I alone am worth something to him. Worth enough that he will leave you be in exchange for your food and my information."

He nodded. If that was the case and if indeed it meant freedom, safety, he would agree to show them one of the places where food had been hidden. Even he had not allowed all to be stored in the same place, and now saw how wise the decision was.

"Very well. You can tell him...this." He could tell them the way and let them find it on their own. The sooner they were gone and he rid of them, the sooner someone might be informed. He explained where they could find a small store of food , and how it was hidden, and added that they.. could indeed take the sacks that he owned since they lacked packs to carry them in.

Hunter stood up and relayed the information to Saint-Hilaire, hoping the young man would be satisfied with it.

"...Good. We are leaving. Tie them up." The order was addressed at the soldiers, then he looked to Hunter. "I shall leave them alive, but they shall be tied till they can free themselves in which time we should be far enough from them. You shall not protest, and you shall retain your memory of the land.." There was no question in those words as he passed the fairhaired man. The collection of sacks was quickly acquired and filled already with the remaining food. Canteens or the civilian counterpart most similar to it, serving to contain water, were collected as well. The French had taken some liberties in what more they'd have taken before they came to stand in line, assorted neatly infront of the door.

The young lieutenant made final adjustments at what he was to take. His coat as well as the civilian and rejoined his men, two of which were by then guarding the Captain.

" Lead." He ordered Hunter, motioning towards the road with his hand. "You know your terms.."

"I do know them, it remains to be seen whether you do." Hunter started walking hoping that what he remembered of the maps was true. He didn't see any necessity in deceiving the Frenchman and trying to lead them into a trap. The young officer forgot to take his sabre and his pistols and what Hunter wanted was a chance to put them to good use.

Saint-Hilaire followed Hunter, who had a man to his left and right as well as one behind him all perhaps making sure that Hunter would not run. The young lieutenant did feel that there was something he was forgetting, something that his tired, worn out mind could not yet process to point a finger to.

He looked at the man and followed his gaze and the path that was before them. The other of his men, which would account solely to five more, walked behind them in a line two men deep and the last bringing up the rear.

"What is your.. profession, Hunter?" He inquired and dropped that thought, that earlier bothered him. His men had fresh supplies in both fabric and some of the other utensils that they could take from the Portuguese house.

Hunter turned to look at the Frenchman, with a playful twinkle in his eyes.
"Shall we see if you can guess? I'll give you three chances."

"And once I have guessed, or have failed to guess in the three attempts, you shall tell me the truth. What your profession is as well as your relation to this land?" He asked, careful to pick an easy path across the road, avoiding rocks or mud that would pull at his boots.

"..You...have an estate, here, through which you earn money and because of which you live in Portugal?" First guess, to single out the man as either a military person, or that of a civilian sphere.

"No, I will tell you only if you guess, my friend, otherwise what is the point of this game? And please, I beg you, don't start in with the threats, so far I held up my end of bargain, so why don't you prove to me that Frenchmen have some honour. To answer your first guess, no, I do not have an estate here."

"..Would you have believed it, even if it were proven to you that we do?" He arched an eyebrow as he heard his first guess as incorrect. This thus confirmed his suspicion that Hunter could not have been a man, unlearnt in the military ways or atleast that his affiliation with the one that they have left behind, might be other than friendship.

"..Are you then.. a man of the military..and thus I would then suppose, an officer unless you have deserted." But to that he added. "Which.. saying that you serve loyalty, would have spoken against such a supposition." He gave a slight nod. He had become more restless and worried at the thought, for, could it suggest that the British were near and so the danger of being found?

"I am indeed a man of the military, but since I do not question your presence here, although I am aware of your own affiliation, I will ask you to extend the same courtesy to me. That will indeed make me believe in your honour, at least."

"Fair enough." It was not his business that he would inquire on the dealings of a prisoner of war, for as long as he had a use of him. And the use at present was not, to interrogate him and thus bring from him information that might benefit his own army, but rather to have him lead the way in the direction which would take them first to collect the additional food and then to follow - in a straighter line rather than circles - the French.

"You will not question my honour, Englishman. It is not our kind that disolves it so quickly with the shameful treatment of your soldiers, the flogging.. or what we have heard, that degrades as well the person as its character." He smiled and glanced over his shoulder. "Is it still far to this...hiding that your friend has pointed to?" He added as nonchallantly as if he hadn't just given a critique to the ways of his enemy.

"I am not questioning your honour. In all honesty, it only concerns me in your dealings with me. If you are honourable, then so shall be I, if you are not, well, then you will find many new reasons to criticise the English."

Hunter pointed to a clump of trees some distance to the left, ahead of them. "No, we are almost there."

"Oh.. and those would be?" Saint-Hilaire asked, and then gave an order to the two of the soldiers at the back, who had been merrily chatting away, first to be quiet and second to advance.

"It is a pity that you have let the horses run." They could've certainly used a pair to carry their supplies or to be ridden.

"Let us hope, my dear, you don't have to find out. I'd rather let you live in your youthful innocence for a while longer." Hunter grinned at Saint-Hilaire. "It is a pity, but how could I have possibly stopped them when your men were pointing muskets at me?"

"I am not as innocent as you may think. As is none who serves in the army and is entertained with the thought that there shall be battle tomorrow." He had scowled at the man, finding his tease quite a slash at his pride. He tilted his head higher a bit, as if to show the confidence with which he took to arms, and by which he was not to be treated as a young, ignorant fool.

"Usually.." He had listened about the horse's flight. "...you stop a horse by the taking of his reins.. though I am no man of cavalry, that I should know more than its basics." He smirked at Hunter. There was no attempt to mask the sublimal tone of taunt.

Hunter smirked delightedly at the Frenchman's attempt to seem more confident, but decided to let this particular line of teasing to go for now.

"Indeed? Thank you for teaching me this. I am not cavalry man either, and have not your intelligence to learn the basics of horse-handling yet."

"You have ridden a horse before you came and interrupted our visit at the house. Certainly you have not been able to have traveled so far only thanks to your friend's careful guidance." He sounded amused, perhaps goading the other man, where his response was similarly disguised, or so he thought.

He knew now Hunter was not of the cavalry and yet his background eluded him. As they approached the mound, underneath which the treasure, the food was hidden, the men had already filled most of the sacks.
.

"I held on to it with the power of my prayers." Hunter leaned against a tree, watching the Frenchmen at work.

Saint-Hilaire studied the man for a moment, then laughed softly and quietly shaking his head. This man was an amusing character.Not quite as serious as he should be, with the situation he was in, but atleast he was not a loud and whining sort of prisoner.

"You must be grateful then, that you are able to do nought but walk with us safely." The bags were being filled. One soldier stood at Hunter's side now,others busy with filling their packs and removing the rocks that would have hidden the entrance to the stores. Saint-Hilaire stood there at ease, setting two sentries up front a few meters and at the back, so that they could not be caught unawares. It left him with five men again that exchanged places once a sack of one had been filled. The gatherers had laid their weapons against the rocks, so that their hands were free and only three now were still carrying them. The guard that stood at Hunter's side had it slung over his shoulder, and old hunting firearm gotten from the Portuguese house. A pistol was carried by the one at the front, and the one at the back carried a sort of sabre.

Saint-Hilare turned to look into the direction from which they had come. So far, so good. The food was where they said it would be. Their armament was in no way perfect, yet it was better than nothing. He nodded. So far, so good.