Keane's Company (2013)

by Gale, Iain

  ‘You did well, Gabriella. Now go to your husband and stay with him if you will. I might have need of you later.’

  He turned to Heredia and Silver. ‘Sarn’t Ross. As I said, I’ll see them both at my tent in half an hour.’

  Keane walked back to his tent and, sitting at the low camp chair that stood beside the folding table, rubbed at his eyes and smoothed back his hair. Both men would have to be punished somehow, though how he would manage that when both were needed on campaign, the devil only knew. Suddenly their fate and the whole affair had been diminished by the news of Kitty, and now there was only one thing on his mind. He would have to find her. To do that, though, he knew that he must return to Grant. But how, he wondered, was he to do that without alerting Wellesley to their meeting? For almost half an hour he sat pondering the problem but he had still not found a solution when Ross entered the tent.

  ‘Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but I’ve got them here, sir.’

  Keane looked up and stubbed out on the tent floor the slim cheroot he had been smoking. ‘Bring them in, sarn’t.’

  Heredia and Silver walked into the tent and came to attention. They had scrubbed up, but although the traces of blood had been washed from their faces, Silver’s swollen and blackened eye and Heredia’s smashed nose still bore the evidence of their fight.

  Keane stared at them for just long enough to unsettle them, and then spoke. ‘You’re a pair of bloody fools.’ They stared at the floor. ‘Why the devil get into a fight over something so stupid?’

  Silver spoke. ‘He started it, sir. Said that it was us as was saved by the Portos. Sorry, the Portuguese, sir.’

  Keane cut him short. ‘Whoever started it does not matter now. What matters is that we cannot have any discord between our two armies, certainly none involving brawling of that sort. I won’t have it. Were we not on the march I would award you both a hundred lashes apiece, and I am not a flogging man. As it is, I cannot do so, so I will have to content myself with a lesser punishment. You will each donate ten silver crowns to the company funds forthwith. Give the money to Sarn’t Ross. Dismissed.’

  Heredia spoke. ‘Sir, I am sorry for what we did. Truly. I meant nothing by it.’

  ‘I’d like to believe you, Heredia, but I’m not sure that I do. And you, Silver. How can I trust you? Tell me that.’

  ‘You can, sir. Of course you can. Please don’t send me back to the jail, sir. Please. I won’t do it again and nor will he. Will you?’

  Heredia nodded. ‘No, captain, I will not. We will not fight, sir. It is hard for us. The French take everything and it is hard for a proud people to ask for help. But I know the British are good, sir.’

  ‘Very well, but the fine still stands. Sarn’t Ross, see to it. Dismiss.’

  Silver turned to go, but Heredia hung back. Keane looked up from the order book in which he had written a record of the punishments. ‘Yes?’

  ‘May I see you, sir? In private?’

  Ross did not move.

  Keane spoke. ‘Has this anything to do with Private Silver? If it has, then you will merely dig yourself a deeper hole.’

  ‘No, sir. Nothing at all. I have some information, sir, and I think the time has come to give it to you.’

  *

  Keane congratulated himself. He had, thanks to his impromptu interview with Heredia, managed to engineer a private meeting with Grant. And where Grant was, it was likely that Kitty Blackwood might also be. He walked the half-mile from their bivouac to Grant’s, thinking as he went. Keane was confused. Why, he wondered, should Kitty Blackwood come to look for him? Surely it was too much to hope that she might be pursuing him. Wasn’t it? His mind whirled. As he entered the staff lines he was challenged by a sentry, confused at his uniform, but he managed to talk his way through. Grant’s tent lay a short distance away from that of the commander-in-chief, and he hoped that Wellesley would be too preoccupied to encounter him before he had found Kitty. In any case, he had the perfect reason for being here. Heredia had imparted some information that had to be passed on to Grant.

  He entered the tent and found the major with a bottle of wine. ‘Ah, Keane, a glass?’ He nodded to his servant. ‘Cornish, a glass for Captain Keane.’ He motioned to Keane to take a seat and, as soon as he had, began to speak. ‘Your message said that you had new information. What is it? More on the Spanish?’

  Keane shook his head. ‘No, sir. It is more serious. I am informed that we have a spy in our midst.’

  Grant laughed. ‘Of course we do. Yourself.’

  The servant poured the wine and Keane drank a draught and spoke. ‘No, sir. This is a grave matter. One of my men has reason to believe that he was incriminated and imprisoned to cover up the presence of a French spy within the general staff.’

  Grant put down his glass and as he did so his smile disappeared. ‘You’re serious?’

  ‘Quite.’

  ‘Who is this man?’

  ‘Heredia. I plucked him out of the military prison at Coimbra on the advice of Captain Scovell.’

  ‘Can you trust him?’

  ‘I believe I can.’

  ‘If he’s right, then that might explain the fact that Marshal Victor appears to know our movements. If he’s wrong, then he will surely hang.’

  ‘I think he knows that, sir. He is willing to swear that when he was taken for theft, he had just discovered secret French plans with the seal of the emperor in the valise of an officer on the staff.’

  ‘And he knows this man by name?’

  ‘Yes.’ Keane paused. ‘He swears that it was Colonel William Pritchard.’

  Grant raised an eyebrow. ‘Pritchard? Have we any proof?’

  ‘None, sir, of which I am aware.’

  ‘It’s a grave charge, Keane. Will you stand by your man?’

  ‘I will, sir. I have no reason to doubt him. Unless of course he has some other cause for a vendetta with the colonel out-with my knowing.’

  ‘That of course is a possibility. Pritchard, eh? We must have proof before we act.’

  ‘The only proof I can present is that Heredia was falsely accused.’

  Grant was still thoughtful. ‘It would confirm my worst fears. I have wondered for some time about Pritchard. He seems constantly nervous. On the alert. I had taken it for battle fatigue – his being worn out. But this gives a new angle. You do know that Captain Scovell was acting on my advice when he ordered Heredia’s release? Our problem, Keane, is how we ascertain whether Pritchard is indeed the spy and how we force him to reveal himself.’

  ‘There must be a means of doing it, sir.’ Keane thought for a moment.

  ‘I have it. If one of my men were to become attached to Pritchard’s staff, he might observe the colonel and expose him.’

  Grant mused. ‘It’s possible. Who could do it?’

  ‘Morris, sir. He’s an officer and he has the right manner for the staff. He would be our man. We could have him appointed as an extraordinary exploring officer to General Beresford.’

  Grant said nothing, then. ‘Very well. That is what we’ll do. Inform your man of our intentions and bring him to see me.’

  ’Is there time, sir? We march tomorrow, do we not?’

  ‘Indeed we do, James. And we must unmask this man, if he exists, as soon as the coming fight allows us. Although, as you say, I doubt it will be possible before we engage the enemy. The damage is done for now. I shall take it upon myself to watch the colonel in the coming engagement. Your man will be in place in good time, God willing.’

  He took another drink and then fixed Keane with an unflinching stare. ‘I had thought that you might have come here for another reason.’

  ‘Sir?’

  Grant smiled at him. ‘You are an extraordinary man, Keane.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘God knows how you achieved it.’

  ‘I’m sorry, sir, you have me at a disadvantage.’

  ‘Miss Blackwood, James. She appeared here this morning and is billeted close to the general. How th
e devil did you contrive to have her follow us here?’

  ‘I did?’

  ‘Don’t play the innocent, Keane, it doesn’t suit you. You know quite well to what I refer. You realize that this is against the general’s orders?’

  ‘Sir, I admit that I agreed to it, but in truth, major, how can one order the heart?’

  ‘The heart, is it? I had thought that it was quite another area of sensibility in you to which Miss Blackwood appealed.’

  Keane shook his head. ‘Either way, sir, what harm is there in it?’

  ‘You know damn well the harm in it, Keane. Take my advice and do not attempt to speak to her. Return to your bivouac.’

  ‘You know that I cannot do that, sir.’

  Grant shook his head and smiled. ‘I know, but it was worth trying, don’t you think? Good luck, Keane. Until tomorrow. And be careful.’

  *

  Keane left the tent. Grant had let slip that Kitty’s tent was close to that of Wellesley, as he would have expected. He turned and began to walk towards the commander’s bivouac, hoping that the general would not be about and wondering what on earth he would say to Kitty Blackwood if and when he did find her.

  He had not gone more than ten yards, however, when he heard a voice calling his name. He looked in its direction and saw Cuevillas walking towards him.

  ‘Captain Keane, I was sure it was you.’

  ‘Cuevillas, what brings you here? I thought that you and your men were in the hills.’

  Cuevillas shook his head and shrugged. ‘Not any more. We have come to give our support to General Cuesta.’

  ‘Cuesta’s camp is ten miles distant. In the north. Our left flank.’

  ‘Yes, I know. I wanted to come here first, though.’

  ‘For what reason, I wonder?’

  ‘I have a number of reasons, captain, but since you ask, I wanted to see you again.’

  Keane smiled. ‘Why on earth should you wish to see me?’

  ‘To tell you that I have not forgotten about the silver, captain. And the fact that you stole from me what should rightly be mine.’

  ‘I stole nothing, Cuevillas. We gained a bounty of war by fair means. It was not yours. It belongs to Spain and to the British army.’

  Cuevillas spat on the ground and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘It belongs to me, captain. Don’t forget that. For I will not.’

  ‘If that is a threat, then it is worthless. The money is already with General Wellesley.’

  ‘Aside from what you took for yourself and your men, eh?’

  Keane was losing his patience. ‘I don’t have to listen to this slander, sir. If you want to call me out you know where to find me.’

  ‘But you do not know where to find me, Captain Keane. You think you know the ways of my people, but you do not. You never will. I will get my money, captain. One day, when you are not expecting it, you will find me there. I swear it.’

  Keane laughed. ‘You can make as many threats as you like, Cuevillas. You don’t frighten me. You’re nothing but a bandit and that’s what you will always be. I had hoped we might be comrades. But it seems that you are too concerned with what you can get for yourself from this war and not with driving the French from your country.’

  Cuevillas took a pace towards him and Keane’s hand went to his sword hilt. The Spaniard spoke, growling out the words, ‘How dare you? I have told you, Keane. I will come for you.’

  One of the sentries at Grant’s tent had been watching their exchange and, having seen Keane’s hand slip onto his sword, advanced towards them. ‘Everything all right, sir?’

  Keane smiled at him. ‘Fine, sarn’t. Fine. Just saying goodnight to the captain here.’ He turned to Cuevillas. ‘Isn’t that right, Cuevillas? You were just going, were you not?’

  Cuevillas smirked. ‘Yes, I was. Until we meet again, captain.’

  He turned and walked away from them through the line of tents. Keane turned to the sergeant of the guard. ‘Thank you, sarn’t. But as you could see, we had no quarrel.’

  ‘Right, sir, goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight to you, sarn’t.’

  As the man returned to his post, Keane continued towards Wellesley’s tent, unsettled by his encounter with Cuevillas but now more determined than ever to attempt to find Kitty Blackwood.

  He was stopped by hearing his name called. A woman’s voice. ‘Captain Keane?’

  He turned and saw her. Kitty Blackwood stood framed against the white outline of Grant’s tent. She was as pretty as he remembered her. Prettier, perhaps. He stopped, unable to move, and then, clumsily he thought, walked towards her.

  ‘Miss Blackwood, isn’t it? What on earth brings you here? This is no place for a lady.’

  ‘I came to find my brother and I thought that, being his friend, you might know his whereabouts.’

  ‘Surely you might have had that information from Major Grant?’

  She smiled, aware that she had been found out, but far from annoyed at the fact. ‘Major Grant is a friend of my father’s, Captain Keane, as is General Wellesley, but I did not want to trouble either of them.’

  ‘No, it is just as well that you did not. They have a war to fight.’

  ‘Don’t you all?’

  Keane laughed. ‘Why yes, of course. You must not stay here for long, though. Where will you sleep?’

  ‘Major Grant has arranged that. I have a maid and two footmen with me.’

  ‘I’m afraid that you have come in vain. Your brother, I believe, is with General Cuesta on the left flank.’

  She smiled and in an instant he knew her reason to be a pretext. ‘It is pleasant though to see you again, captain.’

  ‘And you, Miss Blackwood.’

  ‘You must call me Kitty.’

  ‘And I am James.’

  For a moment they said nothing. Then Keane laughed. ‘If you would allow me to escort you back to your quarters, I would be most honoured.’

  ‘Of course. That would be my pleasure.’

  She extended her arm and Keane took it gently, trying not to grasp too tight, although that was what he wanted most to do.

  Together they walked through the lines until they came to a tent, not far off, by the provosts, outside which stood two redcoats of the Foot Guards.

  ‘This is my home tonight, James.’

  Keane let go of her arm and she smiled at him. He spoke. ‘When we return to Coimbra, I would be honoured if you would allow me to call upon you in Lisbon.’

  She smiled again. ‘Of course. I should like that very much.’

  He was about to turn and go when, on an impulse, she pulled him to her and in an instant he had kissed her. It was over in a moment, and both of them drew away for a second. But then Keane put his arm around her and kissed her again. And this time neither of them was inclined to stop. And when eventually they did, they looked at each other, aware of what had happened. Keane could not think what to say and eventually it was Kitty who spoke. ‘If you see my brother do remember me to him, will you? I am so glad that you are friends.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Keane. ‘I will, of course. So am I. Till Lisbon, then.’

  She smiled at him and placed her hand on his for a moment. Then she turned and entered her tent and Keane walked away, aware that once again he had done that which he had regretted so many times in his life and lied to the person he loved.

  And at the same moment, unseen in the darkness, just a short distance away, Ignacio Alonzo, the man they called Cuevillas, thanked fate for having shown him the path to revenge and set off on the ten-mile ride to General Cuesta’s camp.

  15

  The morning brought news. Keane was awakened in his tent by Ross. He had been dreaming of Kitty. He had been stroking her pale shoulders and running his fingers though her hair, and the sight of the ruddy-faced Scotsman at his bedside came as something of a shock.

  ‘Sarn’t Ross?’

  ‘Sir.’

  ‘What the devil’s going on?’

  �
�That’s just it, sir. The very devil is going on. Our cavalry have found Marshal Victor, sir, and the advance guard of the First Division went in last night.’

  ‘What on earth’s the time, man?’

  ‘Oh, it’s not late, sir. It’s just them lads in the First as was early. It’s touching six o’clock.’

  Keane climbed from the folding bed and pulled on his overalls, buttoning up the flies as he spoke. ‘Get the men fell in, sarn’t.’

  ‘Have done, sir.’

  ‘Very good, then get me a mug of tea, will you?’

  Keane ran through the events in his mind. So, he thought, the scouts had found the French. That was as had been hoped. As he had gone to bed the previous night, word had come from Grant that the plan had changed. There was no longer to be a general advance. Wellesley intended to attack Marshal Victor in the flank to the north-east, while Cuesta would take him in a frontal assault on the road to Madrid.

  The attack would go in at dawn. About 4 a.m. That, then, was surely what had happened. Their own role had remained undefined, but Keane guessed that it would be to report back from the Spanish camp, and was fully expecting to be ordered across to Cuesta. The prospect did not wholly fill him with excitement, for there he would surely find both Cuevillas and Blackwood.

  Restored by the tea, Keane found the men waiting outside the tent. Morris came across.

  ‘Sounds bad, James. Apparently the Spaniards didn’t move as directed in the night. Wellesley rode across to Cuesta at three o’clock and the man refused to move. He wouldn’t attack, James. What of that?’

  ‘It’s no more than I would have expected. We knew that might be the case.’

  ‘Now our advance guard has had to pull back. Wellesley’s furious.’

  As he finished speaking Major Grant appeared and beckoned to Keane. ‘Keane, a word.’

  They walked a few paces away from the others. ‘You’ve heard about last night’s fiasco?’

  ‘Yes, sir. It was as we thought.’

  ‘Yes, the general is obliged to you and I’m quite sure that he wishes he had acted more fully on your advice. Marshal Victor has gone.’

  ‘Gone, sir?’