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Waiting to enter Óbidos
4 posters
Page 18 of 25
Page 18 of 25 • 1 ... 10 ... 17, 18, 19 ... 21 ... 25
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
"So it is." Grinning, the scout stepped toward the door. "I'll pass the word for the red-coat presently."
So saying, he withdrew from the room and eased the door shut behind him. Then he settled down near the entry. He might as well catch a few minutes' nap while he could.
So saying, he withdrew from the room and eased the door shut behind him. Then he settled down near the entry. He might as well catch a few minutes' nap while he could.
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
Padstowe growled softly, but Sharpe was talking sense, whether he liked it or not. He looked around the courtyard, wondering where he could settle down and not be in the way - or too close to the riflemen for their comfort.
"Any suggestion as to where, sir?" he asked, a touch of sarcasm to his voice.
"Any suggestion as to where, sir?" he asked, a touch of sarcasm to his voice.
Jonathan Padstowe- Captain
- Species : Wellesley's Staff
Number of posts : 3594
Location : Somewhere near a bottle of port...
Member since : 2008-05-14
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
When the door had closed, Stephen lay back on the bed. Calderón would probably be safer away from them and their papers - even apart from that, his conversation with the scout had soothed his feelings, and he felt grateful to his friend. He would make Padstowe take the bed when he reappeared from his discussion with Lieutenant Sharpe - sure, he had been as meek as a lamb up to this point - but until then... He clutched the papers to his chest, curled up near the head of the bed, pulled the blanket over his face, and relaxed in the dimness and the sensation of rest.
Guest- Guest
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
Oops. Getting the man all riled up was not a good idea. He gestured at his own abandoned blanket. "Over there, if you'd like. It's out the way, so they won't disturb you too much." And there was some hay as well, so he'd have something soft to lie on.
Besides, Sharpe didn't feel as though he could sleep at all tonight, and he was used to nights of broken sleep, cat-napping to catch up on it when he got the chance. Something he wasn't sure Padstowe was used to doing. Though maybe he was judging the man unfairly; he was used to being out and roughing it; it came with the territory of being an exploring officer, after all.
Besides, Sharpe didn't feel as though he could sleep at all tonight, and he was used to nights of broken sleep, cat-napping to catch up on it when he got the chance. Something he wasn't sure Padstowe was used to doing. Though maybe he was judging the man unfairly; he was used to being out and roughing it; it came with the territory of being an exploring officer, after all.
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
Putting the mug down Padstowe gave Sharpe a mocking salute, then got up with a small gasp and made his way over to where Sharpe had abandonned his blanket. Gently he eased himself down onto the hay, tugging the heavy-milled wool over him and pulling around him as he lay back, sighing heavily and closing his eyes. Damn this shoulder, damn Prideaux, damn Stephen and damn Sharpe...
Jonathan Padstowe- Captain
- Species : Wellesley's Staff
Number of posts : 3594
Location : Somewhere near a bottle of port...
Member since : 2008-05-14
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
"Night, sir." Sharpe turned back to keep watch. No doubt Harper would have something to say to him later, when he realised Sharpe hadn't had any sleep, but right now Sharpe couldn't sleep, so he preferred to do something useful. And the Chosen Men would probably appreciate not being woken up to go on watch.
He hefted his rifle and made sure that he had a clear view across the square. He didn't want anyone to be able to sneak up on them, after all.
He hefted his rifle and made sure that he had a clear view across the square. He didn't want anyone to be able to sneak up on them, after all.
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
Padstowe bridled at the "sir", but resolutely held his tongue and screwed his eyes shut tighter, rolling onto his right side and pulling the blanket up over his eyes. How much rest he was going to get he did not know, but he might as well try...
[OOC: Night everybody! See you around. ]
[OOC: Night everybody! See you around. ]
Jonathan Padstowe- Captain
- Species : Wellesley's Staff
Number of posts : 3594
Location : Somewhere near a bottle of port...
Member since : 2008-05-14
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
Stephen sat bolt upright a few minutes later, cursing his wild head. He pulled the letter concerning Dutourd from his pocket. He did not read it - apart from being a lengthy and painful action, it would have been a futile one - he had memorised every word of it, without a locus, shock having acted like a chisel on his brain.
He should destroy it.
The worst thing about a head injury was that he could not trust his own thoughts - was that the voice of reason, or panic? Reason, he decided - it did not contain military or naval information, but it contained a description of himself that could be put to use. It was stored in his memory as surely as the Aeneid or the bones of the hand were, and thus its paper counterpart had no use, and only danger. The candle he had used during the operation was still alight, forgotten in the sunlight, though guttering - he quickly ripped the letter into strips and methodically burnt each one, his eyes swimming.
He felt no relief when it was done - that came when he pulled his shirt over his head, careful not to tug it over his temples, bundled it in his hands, the fabric cracking and scattering flakes of blood over the floor, and tossed it aside. He lay back onto the bed and turned to see the candle-flame finally splutter and die.
He should destroy it.
The worst thing about a head injury was that he could not trust his own thoughts - was that the voice of reason, or panic? Reason, he decided - it did not contain military or naval information, but it contained a description of himself that could be put to use. It was stored in his memory as surely as the Aeneid or the bones of the hand were, and thus its paper counterpart had no use, and only danger. The candle he had used during the operation was still alight, forgotten in the sunlight, though guttering - he quickly ripped the letter into strips and methodically burnt each one, his eyes swimming.
He felt no relief when it was done - that came when he pulled his shirt over his head, careful not to tug it over his temples, bundled it in his hands, the fabric cracking and scattering flakes of blood over the floor, and tossed it aside. He lay back onto the bed and turned to see the candle-flame finally splutter and die.
Guest- Guest
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
Time had little meaning when one was asleep. Calderón wasn't sure how much time had passed since he'd let his chin drop to his chest but it couldn't have been long. He'd have awakened if anyone had come up the stairs anyway. Stifling a yawn, the scout pulled himself to his feet and padded softly to the top of the stairs, where he called out for the padre. He had told Esteban that he'd send for the red-coat and so he was.
The padre, upon his return, reported that the red-coated officer was already at his rest. Calderón thanked the man and returned to his spot by the bedchamber door. Just as well, really. He took a moment or two to get comfortable again before folding his hands onto his lap and closing his eyes. There was nothing else to do but drift away to slumber, until the heat of the day had passed.
He was awakened again some time later by the light tread of feet on the stairs and his knife was in hand at once, but it was only the padre coming to tell him that sunset was close at hand. It was nearly time. Calderón tucked his knife back into its sheath and got to his feet. As much as he disliked to do it, he would have to disturb Esteban's sleep.
"Twilight draws near," the scout said quietly, after first knocking at then opening the bedchamber's door. "We should begin tidying up."
The padre, upon his return, reported that the red-coated officer was already at his rest. Calderón thanked the man and returned to his spot by the bedchamber door. Just as well, really. He took a moment or two to get comfortable again before folding his hands onto his lap and closing his eyes. There was nothing else to do but drift away to slumber, until the heat of the day had passed.
He was awakened again some time later by the light tread of feet on the stairs and his knife was in hand at once, but it was only the padre coming to tell him that sunset was close at hand. It was nearly time. Calderón tucked his knife back into its sheath and got to his feet. As much as he disliked to do it, he would have to disturb Esteban's sleep.
"Twilight draws near," the scout said quietly, after first knocking at then opening the bedchamber's door. "We should begin tidying up."
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
Stephen threw the blanket from his face when he heard the door open, but his pulse slowed again when saw Calderón. "I'm awake!" But he hadn't been, he realised with surprise and something approaching glee - having tossed and turned for what had felt like hours, he must have dozed off, and without a drop! And some considerable sleep too, for him, judging from the red-tinted glow lighting the bottom of the ragged curtain.
He looked at his companion - heavy eyelids and messy hair indicated some sleep on his part as well - now if only Padstowe had listened to reason too... "I need to go down and talk to the Captain and Father Miguel." Getting up from the edge of the bed, he gingerly put his weight on his right leg. Still a prodigious amount of pain, but if he were to grit his teeth and take his time, he was sure he would be able to get down the stairs unaided.
He looked at his companion - heavy eyelids and messy hair indicated some sleep on his part as well - now if only Padstowe had listened to reason too... "I need to go down and talk to the Captain and Father Miguel." Getting up from the edge of the bed, he gingerly put his weight on his right leg. Still a prodigious amount of pain, but if he were to grit his teeth and take his time, he was sure he would be able to get down the stairs unaided.
Guest- Guest
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
"I'll fetch them," Calderón told his friend quickly. As little as he knew of medicine and medical affairs, he was sure it was not wise for Esteban to attempt to walk while his leg was unreliable. "Sit you there and wait, I'll be but a moment."
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
"No, no, I shall need to go down at some point." The idea of putting the bloody shirt back on made his skin crawl, so he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, hiding as much of his chest in shadow as possible - he would ask Father Miguel if he might buy a shirt from him; if nothing else, his own would be horribly conspicuous - and made a determined hobble along the wall to the door.
Guest- Guest
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
He was loathe to admit it but Esteban had a point. Fighting back a sigh, Calderón stepped forward with a ready arm lest his friend lose his precarious balance. "Come then and you shall get downstairs."
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
"Do stop hovering like an anxious hen, José - here - my hand is well enough to take the banister - I am all right now." It would have been easier to sit down and slide, but even with Calderón his pride would not take such a blow. He stood blinking for a moment on each step while his head and vision cleared as much as they could, and then took the next. As he approached the bottom he saw Father Miguel, forced a smile (for the confession still weighed upon his mind) and said, "Boa tarde, Padre." Switching to a low Castilian, he muttered to Calderón, "Will you go up to the papers once I go out?"
Guest- Guest
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
The scout followed Esteban down the stairs, thinking sure that the Irishman would miss a step and tumble the rest of the way down. Such a calamity did not occur and both men were shortly standing at the base of the stairs, with Esteban looking faintly proud of himself.
While his friend greeted the padre, Calderón waited a few feet away. He knew he ought to go outside and retrieve the red-coat officer, but he had no wish to brave the presence and tempers of the others who were out there as well. Thankfully, Esteban spared him the trial of deciding.
"Of course," he answered. Now that the time for departure was drawing near, his easy good humour was beginning to slip in favour of a cool, business-like manner. He waited until Esteban had turned away before starting up the stairs again. Behind his friend's back, he caught the padre's eye and nodded curtly. The man knew what was expected of him now and, with luck, would carry out his task well.
While his friend greeted the padre, Calderón waited a few feet away. He knew he ought to go outside and retrieve the red-coat officer, but he had no wish to brave the presence and tempers of the others who were out there as well. Thankfully, Esteban spared him the trial of deciding.
"Of course," he answered. Now that the time for departure was drawing near, his easy good humour was beginning to slip in favour of a cool, business-like manner. He waited until Esteban had turned away before starting up the stairs again. Behind his friend's back, he caught the padre's eye and nodded curtly. The man knew what was expected of him now and, with luck, would carry out his task well.
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
"Thank you. I do not want to leave them unguarded."
He had given the priest a hefty sum from the Admiralty roll, thanking him for all his kindness and discretion and apologising for all the trouble they had caused, and now the priest had disappeared to find him a shirt he might use, thank the Dear. He moved, agonisingly slowly, frequently stopping to lean against the wall, to the back of the presbytery to where Lieutenant Sharpe's green-jacketed men were.
He had given the priest a hefty sum from the Admiralty roll, thanking him for all his kindness and discretion and apologising for all the trouble they had caused, and now the priest had disappeared to find him a shirt he might use, thank the Dear. He moved, agonisingly slowly, frequently stopping to lean against the wall, to the back of the presbytery to where Lieutenant Sharpe's green-jacketed men were.
Guest- Guest
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
His progress was arrested, however, by a hand at his sleeve - or the fold of blanket where his sleeve should have been.
"Senhor?"
A child, a girl, was looking up at him soberly with something of reproach in her gaze. She was holding a bundle of neatly folded garments, clean garments, his own garments.
"Senhor?"
A child, a girl, was looking up at him soberly with something of reproach in her gaze. She was holding a bundle of neatly folded garments, clean garments, his own garments.
sans nom- Captain
- Species : sans pareil
Number of posts : 3766
Location : sans lieu
Member since : 2008-07-13
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
Stephen stared down at the girl, confused. Had someone...? "Are you from the priest, child?"
Guest- Guest
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
Still frowning reproachfully, she nodded and directed him towards a chair. She showed him a row of neat stitches and remarked, "Senhor was cut." It was obvious that she disapproved of such behavior, but she was also intrigued.
sans nom- Captain
- Species : sans pareil
Number of posts : 3766
Location : sans lieu
Member since : 2008-07-13
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
Stephen let himself be directed into the chair - this girl had the same unbending moral force that Dil had, he realised with a lump in his throat. It was a relief to sit, in any case - he had a few minutes to spare. He gently took the shirt from her - for it was his shirt, still damp from a washing, now a uniform rusty brown colour. He swallowed. "Cut?" He tugged the blanket in front of his chest, but she was pointing at a small tear in the fabric, sewn up. "Oh, thank you."
Guest- Guest
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
She deposited the rest of his garments on his lap without ceremony, followed by duplicates which were fresh and dry. "Will Senhor eat?" She showed him a plate of rosy small apples, cheese and bread. She peered at his face and added, "Il faut manger, mangiare, cómalo, plaisir. The bread, it go well, I make it, self. Sir is eating, eat."
sans nom- Captain
- Species : sans pareil
Number of posts : 3766
Location : sans lieu
Member since : 2008-07-13
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
Fresh, dry clothes - the Dear bless that priest and his minster. "I understand the Portuguese, my dear. And if you made it then I cannot refuse." He meekly took a hunk of bread and ate it under the child's unblinkingly reproachful stare, praying that it would settle his stomach. He brushed the crumbs from his hands and presented them to her with a smile, hoping that she would be satisfied.
Last edited by Stephen Maturin on Mon Jul 14, 2008 7:40 am; edited 1 time in total
Guest- Guest
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
She gave a small nod, but turning to go, she paused and asked confidingly, "Senhor, who are the men?" glancing at the green-jackets from the corner of her eye.
sans nom- Captain
- Species : sans pareil
Number of posts : 3766
Location : sans lieu
Member since : 2008-07-13
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
"They are British soldiers, honey, but they mean no harm." He stood up, tucking the clean garments underneath his arm - he would thank the priest before they left. "Thank you. Your bread was wonderful."
Guest- Guest
Re: Waiting to enter Óbidos
"British soldiers!" she repeated, her eyes wide with astonishment and something like delight - but the look quickly vanished as she saw him stand. "No no no no, sit. Senhor, sit, and wait. I will bring Father Miguel." She pressed apples into his hands and fled.
sans nom- Captain
- Species : sans pareil
Number of posts : 3766
Location : sans lieu
Member since : 2008-07-13
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