Once a Soldier

by Mary Jo Putney

  “No, but . . .” He halted, not knowing how to express what was basically a primal scream of protectiveness.

  Her voice even softer, she said, “You seem to think I’m an unusual woman, and you like that. My willingness to fight if needed is part and parcel of my uniqueness. You can’t deny that without denying who and what I am.”

  Despairing, he realized that she was right. “I surrender, my brave, wise owl,” he said with profound reluctance. “But if you’re there, you’ll be stationed at my left hand, where I can watch out for you.”

  “And vice versa.” She drew him down in a long hug. “Thank you, Will. For knowing me well enough to let me be who I am. For caring enough to accept the possibilities of pain and danger.”

  “Apparently, women have been doing that from time immemorial,” he said wryly. “But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to accept!”

  * * *

  Sofia was aghast that Athena was going to join the militia. “You can’t go! No woman belongs on a battlefield! I need you here!”

  “Sofi, my love, you’re going to run out of exclamation points,” Athena said as she packed a blanket, a canteen of water, bread and cheese, ammunition, and a few basic medical supplies into a canvas sack she could sling across her back. “You also sound exactly like Will.”

  “I always knew he was a man of great good sense.” Sofia bit her lip. “It’s bad enough that so many male Gabrileños are risking their lives. You’re the chief advisor of the royal princess of San Gabriel. I need you here!”

  “No, you don’t.” Athena slung the sack over her shoulder. “You have the Olivieras, the mayor of the town, the priest, and Justin, and they are all people of great good sense.”

  “It’s unnatural for women to fight like men,” Sofia said stubbornly.

  “May I remind you of your great-grandmother Queen Maria Mercedes de la Alcantara? When she was traveling here to wed your great-grandfather, her party was attacked and she led the charge that drove them away, spurring on her guards and waving a sword.”

  “She didn’t have a choice.” Sofia’s gaze was stark. “You do.”

  “I don’t.” Athena’s expression was grave. “You know that I have unladylike abilities because you’ve seen me in action. I don’t seek out danger, but I can fight when it’s needful, and now is one of those times.”

  Sofia sighed. “I know you’re right, but I’m terrified for you. You’re the only family I have left. Please, please, be careful! And don’t let Will get killed, either.”

  “I’ll do my best on both counts.” Athena hugged her. “It’s time for me to go. Will suggested that you and Justin keep an eye on Jean Marie. I don’t think he’s going to run off to warn Baudin, but best that he doesn’t have the opportunity.”

  “We’ll make sure he stays here.” Sofia bit her lip. “I hope that by tomorrow afternoon, this will all be over and San Gabriel will be safe again. But that’s not very likely, is it?”

  “Will says it’s impossible to predict. But I’m sure our militia will do serious damage to the invaders, and the sanctuaries and supplies we’ve arranged will protect most of the population. Will said that if the ambush goes badly, the militia will fall back to the castle and defend it. The Gabrileño army will be back in a fortnight or so. Your country will survive, your highness.”

  “But the sooner the French are stopped, the less San Gabriel will suffer.” Sofia straightened. “I’ll escort you down to the stables, then go to the castle chapel to pray. It’s all I’m good for.”

  “That’s not true!” Athena said sharply. “You are the soul of San Gabriel. Your courage, dignity, and compassion make you beloved, and raise everyone’s morale tremendously. Don’t ever discount that. Other people can shoot the enemy, but San Gabriel has only one royal princess.”

  Sofia supposed Athena was right, but as they went down to the courtyard together, she thought how much simpler her life had been when she was the pretty, frivolous princess with no responsibilities other than to marry well.

  Chapter 31

  By early evening, the members of the San Gabriel militia had gathered in the small meadow below the embankment, where they would wait in ambush. Counting Will and Athena, 198 defenders. He had hoped there would be a few more, but what they lacked in numbers, they made up in grim determination.

  Will moved up the hill a little so he was above the crowd. Raising one arm, he called, “Men of San Gabriel, hear me!”

  When he had everyone’s attention, he said in a voice that carried through the meadow, “We all know why we are here. If our information is correct, a sizable force of renegade French soldiers under General Baudin will be invading the country in the next hours to finish what they started last summer.”

  His words triggered an angry murmur of voices. Will waited until that subsided, then continued, “The French are experienced soldiers. They know how to fight. But you have one huge advantage. San Gabriel is your home. You fight to protect your land, your families, your friends. That gives you a power the French cannot match.”

  His gaze swept the crowd. The ages ranged from very young boys to grizzled old men. Some carried muskets so old he hoped they wouldn’t explode; the army veterans had rifles—the six French rifles they’d captured a few days before had been distributed to men most likely to get good use from them. He and Athena carried sleek, accurate carbines, which were lighter in weight and easier to reload, and he also carried a pistol. Not to mention the Royal Sword of San Gabriel.

  What they had in common was commitment to preserving their country. “We will fight, side by side,” he said more quietly. “If you’re afraid, that’s as it should be. You’d be fools not to be afraid. But stand your ground and fight together, and we will win!”

  There was a great roar of approval. Then someone shouted, “What is Lady Athena doing here?”

  “She will fight with the men of San Gabriel because she loves this country and your princess, and she shoots well,” Will explained. “She has volunteered her rifle and her life to aid our cause.”

  “Why are you letting a woman fight with us?” another voice called doubtfully.

  “Have you ever argued with an armed woman?” Will quipped.

  As laughter rang out, Athena stepped up the hill to stand beside him. In truth, with the wind whipping her divided skirts and her carbine in hand, she looked like a warrior goddess.

  “I have faced the French in Porto when they conquered the city, and just a few days ago when a scouting party attacked us as we surveyed the river,” she called in a carrying voice. “I have shot and killed the enemy, and I have never fled in fear.” She grinned. “If a mere woman can stand and fight, surely every man here can do the same!”

  That produced good-natured comments and a few teasing remarks, but the mood was positive. Will said under his breath, “Well done. None of them would dare run when you’re still holding the line.”

  “Use their male pride against them,” Athena agreed with tart amusement.

  Will raised his voice again. “You will be divided into squads of nine, each to be commanded by a veteran. You’ll also be given the numbers one, two, or three for firing order. When I fire the shot to begin the attack, all of the number ones will fire, then the number twos, then the number threes. By then, the first group should be reloaded to fire again. The idea is to pour continuous fire into the French so they can’t escape and so they think we have more men than we do. Does everyone understand?”

  Most of the men nodded. They looked nervous and a few were visibly fearful, but his veterans were alert and ready. They wouldn’t run when the shooting started, not when their homes were at stake. “Some of us will spend the night in ambush position,” Will continued. “The rest of you can relax here for now. Hundreds of men on the march will make noise no matter how hard they try to move quietly.

  “But with luck, our scout, Joaquim Cavaco, will come in advance to give us a better idea of how many men we face and how soon they’ll arrive. That
means that if you hear one young man and a mule coming down the road, hold your fire! After Joaquim reports, I’ll pass on what he says.” Will smiled, wanting to ease the mood. “Joaquim might show up and say the French have changed their minds.”

  “Not bloody likely!” Tom Murphy called.

  “No,” Will agreed. “Perhaps Joaquim will report that the French are moving more slowly than expected. Or maybe they’re traveling faster. This is why we need scouts. But whenever the French come, we will be ready. We will fight, and we will win!” He pulled the Royal Sword of San Gabriel from the scabbard at his side and raised it above his head, the shimmering Damascus steel blazing in the afternoon sunshine. “For San Gabriel, for Princess Maria Sofia, and for victory!”

  The roar that sounded from his troops must have been audible from one end of the valley to the other. Then the crowd broke up with the captains and lead sergeants heading up the hill to their positions and the other men finding places to get comfortable.

  Will said, “Time to take our stations, Lady Athena. And if you have any special goddess-of-war magic, feel free to exercise it.”

  She chuckled as she climbed the hill by his side. She wore her split riding skirt, sturdy boots, a loose jacket with many pockets, and her gleaming carbine. At her waist was a sheathed knife and slung over her shoulder was a canvas bag of supplies that probably included bandages and other useful things. He might worry about Athena’s safety, but she was certainly ready.

  “How far apart will we be stationed?” she asked.

  “Every twenty feet or so. The grenadiers are distributed fairly evenly along the lines.”

  “Twenty feet from you,” she murmured wickedly. “Too far.”

  “Behave yourself, wench,” he ordered. “We have a battle to fight!”

  “After that speech you gave, I feel invincible,” she said.

  Will wished that he were equally confident.

  * * *

  Hours passed with nothing much happening, so Athena moved fifteen feet to her right so that she was within easy talking distance of Will, though regrettably out of touching distance. “I’ve just learned something truly terrible about going to war,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “It’s really boring.”

  There was enough moonlight to show Will’s grin. “Long periods of boredom and discomfort punctuated by brief bursts of noise and terror. The soldier’s life.”

  “I’m realizing that when I’ve faced danger before, it happened swiftly and I had to react. I’m not so good at waiting.”

  “Go back to your position and roll up in your blanket and get some sleep,” Will suggested. “We’re not likely to see much happen for a few hours yet.”

  “I don’t know if I can sleep, but I’ll try to rest.” Her voice became even softer. “I wish I could curl up next to you, but I expect that would be counter to good discipline.”

  “Especially mine.” He made a shooing motion with his hand. “But at least we both have excellent motivation to survive.”

  Chuckling, she returned to her position. Oddly, despite the discomfort of sleeping on the ground and the threat of danger, she dozed off. She felt safe with Will near....

  * * *

  In a silent night broken only by the rustling of a breeze in the bushes and the sounds of night creatures, hasty hoofbeats sounded very clearly. As Will skidded down the embankment, he sensed his fellow soldiers coming alert.

  When the mule approached, he recognized the small form of Joaquim. He waved the boy down, asking, “What news, Scout Cavaco?”

  Joaquim pulled up the mule, both of them panting for breath. “The French are not far behind! Maybe half an hour, no more. I was delayed because they blocked my route and I had to go around.” The boy pulled off his hat and wiped his face tiredly.

  “Do you have an idea of the numbers?”

  “My guess is closer to six hundred than five hundred, but I’m not sure. Many. They march in a column, keeping good order, a few supply wagons behind, but most of their supplies on their backs or on mules.”

  “Do they look alert and ready for battle?”

  “They look . . . hungry,” the boy said slowly. “Desperate, even.”

  So they would go into battle as motivated as the Gabrileños. Not good. But with luck, they’d be worn out by the long march and not expecting attack here and now. “Anything else you can think of that might be useful to know?”

  Even in the dim light, Joaquim’s snarl could be seen. “Their general, Baudin, rides at the head with several of his officers on fine horses.”

  “Probably he stole them from Napoleon’s stable,” Will said easily. “Continue on to the castle and give the news to Princess Sofia. After you get some rest, you can join the castle guards.”

  “I’ll get to meet the princess?” Joaquim said, brightening.

  “Yes, and she’ll be well pleased with your work.”

  As Joaquim proceeded along the road at a slower pace, Will climbed the embankment on the other side and passed on the news to Ramos, the army veteran stationed opposite him.

  “Time to move everyone into position. I’m thinking that if we can take out Baudin, it might break the nerve of his men,” Will said. “You and I both hold grenades. After I fire the first shot and the fusillade begins, shall we aim our grenades at Baudin?”

  Ramos’s teeth flashed white in the darkness. “With pleasure. May the Blessed Mother grant me the honor of being the one to blow him to hell.”

  “You’ll have competition for that,” Will said with a friendly clap on the shoulder. “And now, battle stations!”

  The next minutes were a blaze of activity as the sergeants got their men into position. When Will passed Athena, he said softly, “Hold steady, little owl. And aim for the officers leading the column on horseback. One of them should be Baudin.”

  “Worth a try. The man is evil.” Athena swallowed hard. “Go with God, Will.”

  He touched her cheek, then moved on down the line. The veterans did a good job positioning the militiamen. While there was anxiety and a few had lost their suppers, no one had deserted. They appreciated Will’s comments and jokes.

  When he reached Gilberto, Will said, “Years from now, old men will be telling their grandsons that they were here this day, defending San Gabriel.”

  Gilberto snorted. “Remembering the glory and forgetting the blood!”

  “Glory grows in proportion to how long ago the battle took place. Go with God, Captain.” Will shook Gilberto’s hand, then turned and trotted back to his own position.

  Then, they waited.

  Chapter 32

  As the first faint light appeared along the eastern horizon, the distant sounds of marching men could be heard. Heavy feet, the clink of harnesses, the occasional barked order of a sergeant. The noise intensified when the column entered the sunken road and was contained between the embankments.

  The back of Will’s neck tingled with nerves and anticipation. To his left, Athena was a dark, quiet form as she waited, carbine ready. He imagined that the inexperienced militiamen were ready to jump out of their skins with the French marching just feet below them, but they held their fire. The light had increased enough to see men and horses as individual shapes, though details were still unclear.

  The half-dozen mounted officers in the lead came level with Will. He took careful aim at the first rider, hoping it was Baudin, and fired. As the crack of his carbine echoed from the stony hills, his bullet struck his target.

  Before the man hit the ground, the first rank of Gabrileños fired. Cacophony, a screaming horse, sergeants shouting orders to their men.

  Second rank fired. Third rank fired. The first again. The volleys became more ragged as reloading time varied, but the bullets were taking effect and the French troops were breaking from their regular marching formation.

  The sunken road filled with clouds of stinging smoke and Will saw that dozens of French soldiers had fallen. Others had dropped into firing position and were retur
ning fire whenever they caught a glimpse of a defender, but they were at a great disadvantage.

  Will lit the first of his grenades and hurled it among the leading horsemen, then ducked. The grenade exploded and shrapnel flew in all directions. Furious curses split the air from the French soldiers.

  Athena had flattened herself on the edge of the embankment and coolly fired down at her targets. What a woman! Will thought.

  The chaos of battle roared around Will as he fired, reloaded, fired again, all while keeping mental track of how many volleys of bullets he heard, how his militia was holding, how well the French were starting to fight back.

  So far the Gabrileños were performing admirably, but the longer the battle continued, the more the advantage would shift to the seasoned French troops. Already some were starting to scramble up the embankments, cursing and shouting death threats. Most were shot, bayoneted, or clubbed as they crested the banks, but they had numbers on their side and more and more of them were scrambling upward.

  His heart almost stopped when he saw that one damnable soldier was clawing his way up the bank toward Athena. She was reloading, so Will clamped down his fear and shot the man in the chest. As the soldier tumbled backward, Will lit his second grenade and hurled it into the turmoil on the road. The riders in the lead had spread out so one blast wouldn’t catch them all, but there was no shortage of targets.

  More grenades were exploding along the road, yet in the face of raking gunfire and cacophony, bellowing French officers and sergeants were beginning to successfully rally their troops. Will realized that the battle had reached a critical point. If the fighting didn’t end very soon, the Gabrileños would be overwhelmed and the French would have a clear path to invade the valley.