Fire and Sword cr-3

by Edward Marston

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The raid was a disappointment. After their setback at the preceding farm, they’d chosen a smallholding on this occasion so that they ran no risk of losing any of their number. In fact, there were only three people inside the little cottage and — to their disgust — they were all male. Deprived of their ritual assault on any available women, they killed the men with particular savagery, stole what little money there was and took some of the livestock. As they rode away, the night sky was lit by flames from the bonfire and the loud crackle pursued them for half a mile. It was almost dawn by the time they reached their refuge. Lurching into their farmhouse, the first thing they did was to assuage their fury with beer or wine.

  ‘That was a waste of time, Matt,’ said Edwin Lock, bitterly. ‘We rode all that way just to warm our hands at a fire.’

  ‘I’m sorry about that,’ said Searle. ‘I expected more.’

  ‘We all did. At the very least, we hoped for a tumble with a farmer’s wife or with a milkmaid.’

  ‘I definitely saw women there when I rode past a few days ago, Edwin. They must have been visitors.’

  ‘This life is starting to get me down,’ moaned Hugh Davey, undoing the buttons on his jacket. ‘I’ve had enough.’

  ‘Nobody walks out on me,’ warned Searle. ‘When you agreed to join us, Hugh, you swore to accept my leadership.’

  ‘Things have changed, Matt.’

  ‘We’ve had a little upset, that’s all.’

  ‘It’s not all,’ corrected Lock before taking another swig from the flagon of wine. ‘We’ve been let down twice in a row now. Last time, we had to leave Gregory behind.’

  ‘That was his own bleeding fault,’ snapped Searle.

  ‘This time, we got little money and no women.’

  ‘Edwin is right,’ said Davey. ‘It was a complete waste of time.’

  ‘What would you rather do?’ demanded Searle, rounding on him but addressing the other six of them as well. ‘Would you prefer to be in the army and have someone else running your lives, telling you when you can eat, drink, shave and shit? Is that what you want?’

  ‘No, Matt, you know it isn’t.’

  ‘But for me, the rest of you would still be stuck in uniform. Yes,’ he went on over the mocking laughter, ‘I know that you’re wearing army uniform now but you’re doing it of your own free will. You can take it off whenever you like. Let’s be frank about this,’ he continued, ‘there’s not a man among you who could have organised everything the way I did. I got all of you out of the clutches of the army and I’ve kept you alive ever since.’

  ‘You didn’t keep Gregory Pyle alive,’ said Lock, sullenly.

  ‘Nor Ianto Morgan, for that matter,’ said Searle, using the name to counter any stray thoughts they might have of mutiny. ‘You all know the penalty for desertion. Without me, most of you would’ve paid it by now.’

  ‘That’s not the point, Matt,’ said Davey.

  ‘Then what is, Hugh?’

  ‘Well, we can’t go on like this for ever, can we?’

  ‘No,’ said Lock, smirking. ‘We’ll run out of farms to burn down.’

  ‘I’m serious, Edwin. When does it all end?’

  ‘It ends when I say so,’ declared Searle.

  Davey was blunt. ‘I think the time has come now.’

  ‘If that’s how you feel, off you go.’ Davey hesitated and looked around the others. ‘The same goes for the rest of you,’ said Searle. ‘If any of you are stupid enough to imagine that Hugh can get you safely back to England, then you can leave now. I’m not keeping you here.’

  He sat back and took a long swig of wine. There was general unease among the others and sheepish glances were exchanged. Worried by the lack of support, Davey began to lose his nerve.

  ‘Perhaps we’re better off with you, Matt,’ he conceded.

  Searle was sarcastic. ‘Oh, you’ve finally realised that, have you?’ he said. ‘You’ve shown a glimmer of intelligence at long last.’

  ‘I just want to know when we leave.’

  ‘Then I’ll tell you. We leave at the right moment and that’s not when there are so many patrols out looking for us. We bide our time, Hugh. We stay here and enjoy good food and good beer or wine. It won’t be long before there’s another battle,’ he predicted. ‘Patrols will be recalled then because every man will be needed. That’s when we make our move. That’s when we find our way to the coast and take ship to England. Does anyone disagree with that?’

  He met each pair of eyes with an assertive stare. None of the men dared to speak. Matthew Searle had rescued them from an army routine they’d all hated. In spite of its drawbacks, their new life was much more enjoyable. They’d been able to savour a freedom they’d not known for years. Lock was the first to speak up.

  ‘I’m staying with you, Matt,’ he said.

  ‘So am I,’ said Davey.

  ‘What about the rest of you?’ There was a murmur of agreement from the others. Lock turned to his cousin. ‘There you are, Matt. We all want to stay if you can find us some willing women.’

  ‘There’s more to life than a hole between a woman’s legs,’ said Searle, philosophically. ‘Money is the key to everything. We need all we can get in order to sail to England and start a new life. When we have money, we can buy whatever we want.’ He raised his voice for emphasis. ‘Bear in mind that the hunt for us won’t end when we get back home. Our names will be listed among other deserters in the London Gazette and elsewhere. There’ll be a description of each one of us. We’ll be fugitives.’

  ‘I’ll change my name,’ decided Davey.

  ‘So will I,’ said Lock.

  ‘Take care to change your appearance as well,’ advised Searle, ‘and stay away from people who know you. If they realise you’re a deserter, they could inform on you.’

  ‘I never thought about that.’

  ‘You’ve got me to think of it for you, Edwin.’

  ‘Thank you, Matt. I can’t wait to get home to England.’

  ‘Nor can I,’ said Searle, tapping his flagon, ‘though I’ll miss this lovely wine. I never thought I’d learn to enjoy it more than beer.’

  ‘What I’ll miss,’ said Davey with a lascivious grin, ‘are these gorgeous Flemish women. Apart from them, I leave Flanders with no regrets.’

  Lock was wistful. ‘Oh, I have one regret,’ he confided, ‘and I think about it every day. My regret is that I never had the chance to kill that swine of a sergeant, Henry Welbeck. He made my life a misery — God rot his soul!’ He held his flagon aloft. ‘Here’s to the long and agonising death of Sergeant Welbeck!’

  Henry Welbeck rode beside Daniel Rawson at the head of a patrol. While the two friends wore civilian garb, the soldiers trotting in pairs behind them were in uniform. The patrol wasn’t simply protecting them, it was scouring the countryside for the deserters who’d caused so much havoc. Reports of the burning of a smallholding and the murder of its occupants had come in to the camp. It was another charge to add to the gruesome record.

  ‘This is a long way to go for a sword, Dan,’ said Welbeck.

  ‘I’m hoping we might catch some renegades along the way.’

  ‘Where did you see them?’

  ‘I’m not sure that I did, Henry,’ admitted Daniel. ‘I just thought I saw a glimpse of a redcoat where it wasn’t supposed to be.’

  ‘Then we could be hunting moonbeams.’

  ‘Someone else spotted them in the same part of the country and they had a clearer view. If the deserters have a hiding place, then it’s there or thereabouts.’

  ‘That sounds like a hopeful guess to me.’

  ‘Hopeful guesses sometimes hit the mark.’

  ‘More often than not,’ said Welbeck, ‘they’re miles wide of it. Still,’ he went on, sardonically, ‘I suppose that hunting for a handful of men in a country as big as this is no worse than searching for a sword in the middle of a vast French army. Both are fairly simple undertakings.’

&n
bsp; Daniel chuckled. ‘You were ever the eternal optimist.’

  ‘I don’t like a wild goose chase, Dan.’

  ‘Yet you’d enjoy eating the goose if we actually caught it.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Welbeck. ‘And while we’re at it, couldn’t we catch a flying pig or two? I’m very partial to pork.’

  Daniel was glad of his friend’s company and happy to put up with his rumbling cynicism. Since one of his own men was involved, Welbeck had a personal stake in the arrest of the deserters. Daniel was driven by the desire to exact revenge on behalf of the farmer who’d helped to save his life. The problem, he knew, was visibility. A patrol as large and conspicuous as the one at his back could be seen from miles away, giving the renegades plenty of time to go into hiding. When they got nearer to the copse where he’d seen the stray redcoat, therefore, Daniel intended to proceed with only Welbeck for company. Two men in rustic attire would blend more easily into the countryside.

  ‘Who was the other woman?’ asked Welbeck.

  ‘Mademoiselle Sophie Prunier — she’d been lured into the camp to provide sport for one of the officers.’

  ‘That’s nothing new. We have officers who’ve done that.’

  ‘Not while His Grace is around,’ said Daniel. ‘He takes a dim view of anyone who entices women into the camp.’

  ‘I agree with him. One disease-ridden whore can infect dozens of men with the pox. They’re useless as soldiers then. Nobody can shoot straight while he’s scratching his balls with the other hand.’

  ‘Sophie is not in that class, Henry. As you saw for yourself, she’s very wholesome. Her only fault was to be too trusting when a handsome lieutenant invited her into the camp.’

  ‘What will happen to her?’

  ‘Eventually, I daresay, she’ll be escorted back to Mons.’

  ‘And what about Amalia — will she return to Amsterdam?’

  ‘No,’ said Daniel, ‘she’ll remain in camp for a while. His Grace has promised to write to her father with the news that she’s been rescued. Their ordeal has had one benefit.’

  ‘Has it?’

  ‘Yes, since Amalia and Sophie have been inside the French camp, they were able to describe what they saw and heard. That sort of intelligence is always valuable. What they both need now is time to recover. They went through a very harassing experience and our journey back was not without its adventures. We had some narrow escapes from French patrols along the way. I was relieved when we finally got back to camp.’

  ‘So was I, Dan,’ said Welbeck. ‘It meant that I could have a decent conversation with an officer instead of listening to a brainless dolt like Lieutenant Ainley.’

  The patrol continued for hour after hour, pausing at a small village to take refreshment before pressing on. Though they kept their eyes peeled, the soldiers saw nothing that could lead them to the deserters. Daniel took them on past the forest where he’d had to fight off the two highwaymen and down the road that he’d followed in his wagon. Bringing the column to a halt with a raised arm, he used the telescope to pick out the copse where he’d seen what he believed was a British soldier. Nobody appeared to be there now. He set off again and the patrol followed him until it reached the copse. When all the horses were concealed by the trees, he brought them to a halt and spoke to the lieutenant in charge of the patrol.

  ‘Sergeant Welbeck and I will go on alone,’ he said.

  ‘What if you need help, Captain?’ asked the man.

  ‘We’ll find a way of summoning you. While you’re here, you won’t catch the attention of any lookouts. And after the long ride, I think your men deserve a rest.’

  ‘What about me?’ protested Welbeck. ‘I’m exhausted.’

  ‘Do you want to miss the chance of catching Private Lock?’

  ‘I’d ride another thousand miles to do that, Dan.’

  ‘Then stop moaning about being saddle-sore.’

  Welbeck accepted the reproach. ‘Lead on, Dan,’ he said.

  The copse was on a rise that commanded a view across the plain they’d just crossed. When they went down the other side of the rise, they found themselves in open countryside that was dappled with trees and bushes. Bathed in the light of a summer evening, it was an idyllic scene. After a while, they encountered a brook that trickled its way across their path. Leaving Welbeck to water the horses, Daniel dismounted and continued on foot, walking up a gentle gradient until he finally came to a ridge. Realising that he’d be silhouetted against the sky if he remained standing, he lay on his stomach and crawled forward until he reached the crest. The telescope now came into play, searching the horizon in a wide sweep before making a second, more detailed inspection. Daniel stared intently through the lens until it settled on what at first looked like a clump of trees. Rising out of them was a hill on which a figure was sitting as he gazed in every direction. There was no redcoat this time because the man was in his shirt. It was his breeches and boots that identified him. Daniel recognised them as belonging to a cavalryman in a British regiment.

  He was thrilled. The wild goose might yet be caught.

  By the end of the evening, most of the men had drunk themselves close to a stupor. Two of them played cards while one of them threw horseshoes at a stake he’d set up outside. Searle was studying a map when Hugh Davey came into the house and reached immediately for some beer.

  ‘I’m finished, Matt,’ he announced.

  ‘Who’s supposed to relieve you?’

  ‘It’s Edwin’s turn now.’

  ‘Wake up,’ said Searle, kicking his cousin. ‘You’re on duty.’

  ‘I’m too tired,’ groaned Lock, opening an eye.

  ‘Then I’ll duck your head in a bucket of water.’

  ‘No, no, Matt — don’t do that!’ Lock was sufficiently scared to haul himself up. He staggered to the door and used it to steady himself. ‘What’s the point of going up there now? It will be dark soon.’

  ‘That’s when you come down and not before.’

  ‘Go on, Edwin,’ urged Davey. ‘Take your turn. I was up there while the rest of you were roistering down here.’

  ‘I’m weary,’ said Lock, yawning by way of illustration.

  ‘Are you still here?’ said Searle, rising to his feet and pulling out a dagger. ‘Do as you’re told or you’ll get this up your arse.’

  ‘All right, all right,’ said Lock, holding up both palms. ‘There’s no need to be violent. I’ll act as lookout. Just give me time to wake up properly first.’

  To encourage him on his way, Searle jabbed playfully at him with the dagger. Lock jumped quickly out of the way and fled from the house. As he crossed to the hill, he had to dodge a wayward horseshoe that missed the stake by several yards. Climbing upwards was an effort for a man with tired limbs and blurred vision. When he reached the top of the hill, he picked up the loaded musket that had been left there by Davey and used it for support. His head slowly cleared. He surveyed the landscape in every direction, seeing how the shadows were lengthening across the grass.

  Lock knew that his cousin was right. A lookout was essential to their survival and it was only fair that each of them took it in turns. Searle himself was not excluded from the duty. He’d been up on the hill earlier in the day until he was relieved by the next man. Lock hated the chore. It reminded him too much of the army from which he’d fled. He’d always found sentry duty to be boring and dispiriting. When he’d deserted, he hoped that he’d put it behind him. Yet here he was again with a musket in his hands, staring at an empty landscape for a danger that never appeared. It was demoralising.

  After a while, he lowered the weapon to the ground and sat cross-legged beside it. That offered him some relief. The grass was long and the ground soft. Birdsong acted as a gentle lullaby. Lock’s eyes soon began to flutter. Minutes later, he was asleep.

  After waiting until dark, Daniel deployed his men around the old farmhouse. He and Welbeck then approached on foot to take a closer look. There was nobody on the hill now. The de
serters were all fast asleep inside the building. The first place that Daniel checked was the stables. Six horses were inside and two others were tethered to a fence nearby. That told them how many men they were up against. Welbeck led one of the horses away and Daniel followed with two more in tow. Leaving the animals with members of the patrol, they went back for three more and took them a safe distance away. Daniel brought out the last two horses on his own.

  ‘I didn’t know we came here to act as horse thieves,’ said Welbeck in an undertone. ‘Are we just making sure that they can’t gallop out of there?’

  ‘That’s one reason,’ said Daniel, ‘but there’s another as well.’

  ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘I didn’t want the horses waking them up.’

  ‘Why should they do that, Dan? They were as good as gold when we led them out of there. I didn’t hear a peep from them.’

  ‘It would have been different when the blaze started.’

  Welbeck was stunned. ‘Are you talking about a fire?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Daniel, remembering the gutted farmhouse, ‘I think it’s high time that they had a taste of their own medicine.’

  Going back to the stables, he took armfuls of dry hay from the manger and Welbeck did the same. They made a pile in front of the door and beneath the windows. Daniel even tossed some up onto the roof. When he was ready, he lit the piles of hay and waited for the fire to take hold. It was the signal for the patrol to move forward with their weapons at the ready. Searle and his men were deeply asleep and it was several minutes before any of them heard the noise of the fire or inhaled the clouds of smoke that began to fill the house. The door itself was alight before anyone finally stirred and the front of the building was a sheet of flame.

  Screaming, yelling and cursing, the deserters were roused from their beds and came hurtling out half-naked. The first man through the door was Matthew Searle, howling in pain as the fire licked him. Seeing his red hair and beard in the bright glare, Daniel realised who he must be. He showed Searle no mercy. He pounded away at him with a succession of punches then threw him to the ground and stood over him. Searle was cunning. Pretending to be dazed, he suddenly reached out for Daniel’s foot and pulled him to the ground before leaping up and running towards the stables. Expecting to find horses, he was horrified to see that they’d all vanished.