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The common room of the tavern was nearly empty when the Lt Col of the Tirailleurs du Po Bn entered. He stopped by the bar and told the keep that he was expecting a very special guest, and when this person arrived to direct him to his table.
"How will I know who this person is?" inquired the keep.
"Oh, he will be someone who quite stands out in this place, I can assure you," the Tirailleur explained.
Then, spying his good friend, the scribe from Scotland, he joined the fellow at his table.
"Good day sir," the scribe spoke to him as he looked up from his journal writing.
"Well met," the Lt Col said sitting down beside him.
"Hello sir," Helga warmly greeted him as she walked up to take his order.
"Good day to you too, Helga dear," he replied. "A bottle of wine please, with three glasses, and -" he turned to the scribe who smiled and nodded - "a glass of whiskey, please."
"How goes it with this day?" the scribe asked.
"Very well, indeed," the Lt Col replied. "I am glad you are here, as I am expecting a special guest that I am eager for you to meet."
"And who would that be?"
"Well, you see, it's someone I made the fortunate acquaintance of at the recently concluded Battle of Abensberg. I suppose I should say, fortunate for me, at any rate, though I'm not so sure the other fellow will be in agreement."
The door to the tavern opened, and through the door strode a group of legere Voltigeurs. Their uniforms were still smeared with the stains of rough duty in the field. However, among them was another, whose uniform, white, and gleaming with medals and other sigils of power stood clearly out among them.
The new arrivals spoke briefly with the keep who pointed to the table where sat the Lt Col and the scribe. The men walked over, and their senior officer addressed them. "Capitaine Cypher, 4th Bn, 27th Legere Regt, reporting, sir." He snapped a smart salute, which the Lt Col, standing, returned. The man in the smart white uniform pushed his way to the fore, looking not at all so pleased to be here. "With prisoner, sir."
"Ah yes, Louis, arch duke of the Haplessburg dynasty." The Lt Col saluted the man, granting him all due respect.
"This is not a meeting to which I am fond of having to attend," the arch duke responded, "however, as I am your prisoner, I await your instruction."
At this moment Helga came up to the table with her tray of wine bottle, glasses, and whiskey.
"Sire," the Lt Col spoke to the arch duke, "would you do me the honor of joining me for a drink?"
"Why yes, I suppose," the royal personage answered.
"And, if you will, you may pour the drinks for us," the Lt Col said with a grin.
Louis, arch duke, brother of the emperor of the Haplessburg dynasty appeared astonished at such a request, but, upon the prodding of his guards, he acquiesced.
He took the bottle from the tray that Helga held (she struggled to contain the mirth apparent upon her face), and poured the wine into three glasses. Then, he handed one of them to the Lt Col, but paused upon wondering what to do with the other two.
"One is for you, sire," the Lt Col explained, "and the other is for the officer whose unit captured you outside the village of Abensberg, Capitaine Cypher, here."
The arch duke, struggling to contain his own emotions handed the third glass to the fellow, and the Capitaine accepted it with much grace.
"To the Major Victory by the Armee d'Allemagne at Abensberg," the Lt Col said in toast, and all the men drank, the arch duke tasting his perhaps the least of all.
"Now, sire, there is only one more request I would make of you, and then you are free to go."
"And that would be?"
"That you pay the tab for all the officers who care to join us at our table this fine day."
"If that is all, so be it."
"And you will fill the glasses of each and every one."
"What? I am - " the arch duke was obviously indignant.
"My prisoner, yet," the Lt Col finished for him.
"As you command then," Louis demurred.
"White becomes a waiter," Capitaine Cypher added. "And I will have another, as the capture and escorting of you was not only dangerous, but rather tiring."
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