"Oof."
Under the cover of fleecy canopy, wood met steel. Of course McLeod, being McLeod, wanted to fight before talking. The Sword of the Highlander which Ramirez had carried for hundreds of years was now for the first time aimed at himself with intent to do harm.
Or at least aimed in his general direction, he thought with dismay. And thwacked Quentin's side with his stick. Maybe the boy didn't understand he was armed?
"Ouch!"
Teamwork definitely looked like an asset when it was absent. Ramirez wanted to be gone from the beaten path, caution had long become his second nature. He was having some trouble persuading the children, though. Every reason why he preferred the seasoned and the mature came to his mind as he waited for the boy to tire himself out.
"Think about your sister," he pointed out. "Who will care for her?" And tell me where are the others before it's too late to save them.
"I don't need anybody!" yelled Clyde of the Dundees, a brave if not too clever child. "I have Quentin!"
"...and since I do not have another gavor, she will have to ride with me and you will have to walk."
"We won't!"
Ramirez took in a deep breath and tried to slow down. Brats who roamed the country in the open daylight looking for emperors to do some revenge did not deserve being taken seriously. He wondered who of his fellow instructors would agree to deal with this walking disaster. Perhaps he could talk Orane into being Quentin's first teacher, but even sweet Orane expected discipline. And hand-eye coordination. And manners.
"Ouch!"
Quentin McLeod had managed not to cut himself yet. It had to count for something.
"Maybe I don't want your help!"
The Highlander swung his blade high and far, and Ramirez ducked. At last some initiative.
"Better! Not good, but better." He tripped the boy. "Come and learn. Right now, you don't stand a chance."
McLeod crossed his arms, lying on his back. He was winded, sore and angry, but worst of all he was stubborn. Perhaps it was better not to lead him straight to the barracks; he would just antagonize everybody, and some people were less patient when it came to the Prophesied Champion. Matsuda would drive him up the wall, even if Orane got to him first.
It was decided, they would take the long way home.
"Quentin?" Clyde asked uncertainly. She sat hugging her knees, digging her feet in her gran's fur. Such a small girl. Ramirez wondered if she would have to be sent away. It could be arranged without hassle, the relief mission could take her to a settlement further inland.
"Okay, I will come with you, but I will leave when I am ready!"
"That's optimism," the Spaniard said blandly. "Breakfast, anyone?"