Talavera

by Griff Hosker

  I did not like to be indiscreet but it would soon be common knowledge that we were building defences. There seemed no harm in allaying the Colonel’s fears. “I believe that you will have the winter to bring the regiment up to full strength and to train them for Iberian warfare.” In truth, the 23rd was in no condition to do anything other than escort a convoy. It had lost many officers and the heart of its NCO’s.

  My answer seemed to reassure the Colonel, “Good. When we get to our new quarters you and your fellow must dine with us. The survivors of the charge at Talavera hold you in high regard, Major.”

  “And I them!”

  Mounting Donna, I decided to go the mare’s namesake, Donna Maria d’Alvarez. I knew that the Portuguese noblewoman would watch over the royal palace until the King and Queen returned. She was a lady who understood duty. When I arrived, despite the heat, she, her women and her gardeners were toiling in the gardens. The hot weather had burned some leaves and they were busy tidying the plants. I saw that her man Giorgio still kept a watch with his musket. It was reassuring. She beamed when she saw me, “Robbie! What a delight!” She clapped her hands. She turned to her ladies, “You have all been complaining of the heat. Thanks to this fine cavalier we will go indoors and enjoy the cool of the palace. Juanita, chilled wine, if you please. Come, Robbie, I need to know all. Lisbon is now a backwater!”

  There was a bowl of water and a towel incongruously placed on a magnificent table in the entrance to the royal palace. Donna Maria smiled when she saw my reaction, “A necessity, Robbie. We have few gardeners and this means we do not carry dirt through the palace. We can ill afford the cleaners we use as it is.”

  After we had washed, she led me outside to an enclosed courtyard which was shaded by the palace. There were lemon trees as well as pots of rosemary and thyme. It was fragrant and cool. I saw that there was a fountain but it was not working. We sat in two wicker chairs and Juanita brought the wine. “Major, will you be staying for dinner?”

  I had not planned on doing so but I enjoyed the mature lady’s company. “If it is not too much trouble.”

  She laughed, “Having a handsome young cavalier at my table is no trouble I can assure you of that.” She waved a hand at Juanita, “Tell the cook I want to be impressed!”

  The afternoon and early evening raced by as I recounted the campaign. She was engrossed. I had still not finished when I went to wash for dinner. Donna Maria d’Alvarez went to change and her chief lady, Juanita, entertained me. “You know, Major, my lady sees you as a surrogate son. She lives the war through your exploits. We entertain little these days but, when we do, she regales her guests with tales of your adventures.”

  “I am flattered. She is a delightful lady and I am happy that she considers me her friend.”

  Juanita lowered her voice, “And as her friend can I ask that you ask her to rest more and work less. Her doctor fears that she toils too hard and it is not good for her heart.”

  “She has been unwell?”

  “She is a lady of a certain age, Major, what do you think?”

  “Then I will ask her although why she should heed me, I do not know.”

  Donna Maria had made a real effort and she had dressed as though I was important. The cook, too, had worked hard to produce a magnificent meal. I chose the interlude between the main course and the dessert to broach the subject of her health.

  “I understand that you have been unwell, Donna Maria?”

  She scowled in the direction of the kitchen, “That Juanita has been indiscreet. It is nothing. I blame the summer heat which was followed by two days of fog. I am well now.”

  “You need not work so hard to maintain the grounds. I can have some of Sir Arthur’s men come to work for you. They would be happy to do so.”

  “Really? They would do that?”

  “My lady, they are rough soldiers and the opportunity to work in such a palace and be close to a lady like you and your ladies would not be onerous.” I was thinking of the 23rd. If I was held in such high regard then why not use that to the advantage of my friend?

  “Then I will take you up on your offer.”

  The dessert arrived. It was a wonderfully decorated cake. When I tasted it, I knew that it had been expensive to make for it had more sugar than I had tasted in a single dish before. Sugar was expensive! While we ate our cheese and sipped port, she confided more in me.

  “I confess that I have found this year difficult. One of my dearest friends, one of King Pedro’s officials who remained behind, died.” She shook her head, “He was killed, murdered!”

  The cheese and the port were delicious and I was somewhat distracted. I merely nodded.

  “Don Pedro de Costa was a fine gentleman but he was foolish. He took up with a stunning beauty and it was she did for him.”

  The Black Widow. I remembered now Colonel Selkirk had told me that it had been a Portuguese official who had been killed. I could not help my reaction. I paused with a piece of cheese in mid-air.

  “Robbie, what do you know of this? It happened while you were in Spain and it was not reported in the newspapers.”

  I put down the cheese and emptied the port. Her manservant refilled it and Donna Maria said, “Leave us, Giorgio. We will serve ourselves.” He stared at Donna Maria, “Go, I am more than capable of pouring the wine.” When he had left us, she said, “Speak. We are alone.”

  I owed it to her to speak the truth but it was a somewhat sanitized truth. I kept the more carnal aspects from her. When I had finished and emptied my glass, she came over to refill it. She kissed the top of my head, “There is more than you are telling me for you fear offending an old lady. I can fill in the gaps. I was young once.” She sat down. “Then this is more serious than I thought. Don Pedro had valuable items stolen and I had this Black Widow down as an opportunist thief who happened to murder. Now I can see that the theft was to disguise her true purpose.”

  “Or perhaps to continue to fund her activities.”

  “Perhaps. So, the French are behind this. Suddenly, this all makes sense and certain events become clearer. I had a reason to hate this woman and now it is doubled. You must be careful Robbie. From what you say, your life is now in danger too.”

  “She has fled Lisbon. She will be far from here. It is other men’s lives which will be in danger.”

  “Nonetheless you must be careful.”

  “As should you. You met this woman?”

  “Three times,” she nodded.

  “And you knew her victim. Do others know it was she who did the deed?”

  “They did but…”

  “Go on…”

  “I was the only one invited to dine with them. He kept her hidden; he told me that she requested that he do so for her reputation.” She shook her head, “Reputation! Now I see why. I believe I was invited to dine with them because I keep watch on the royal palace. Don Pedro wrote regular reports for the King and Queen. Our dinners were a way of keeping them informed.”

  “Then you are in danger. It is a good job you have a bodyguard, Giorgio looks to be handy.”

  “He is. He has shown himself to be resourceful and he is like a rock.”

  “Then use him!”

  She nodded, “I will and now you must leave. It is late and you are alone. You have not your Sergeant Sharp with you.”

  “No, I have not. I will return, my lady, for I am here with Sir Arthur. I am part of the army which will keep Portugal safe.”

  “Good! Then I feel safer already!”

  When I left, I knew that I was being followed. The last two glasses of port had dulled my senses and it took me a few streets to realise it, however. Our quarters were in a quiet area and the last thing I needed to do was to put myself somewhere quiet. Instead of turning left I turned right and headed down to the livelier area in the centre. I was sobering up rapidly. I would head for the places people drank. There were more than ten thousand British soldiers in Lisbon at the moment. Soon they would be dispersed to winter ca
mps but, for the moment, the presence of so many British soldiers might be my salvation. Whoever followed me was good. I knew they were there but when I turned, I saw no one behind out of the ordinary. I did not have my sword but, in my boots, I had a stiletto and a dagger.

  Chapter 20

  I hurried as I saw lights ahead. Those following me were still keeping a discreet distance. As I neared the bars and eating houses, I heard the noise of soldiers drinking. Unfortunately, the first ones I saw were Portuguese. Soldiers tended to drink by nationality. One area of bars would cater to one nationality. It seemed to me that this was a Portuguese quarter. I knew there was another section with bars but it was through an alley. I would have a hundred paces to negotiate before I reached another brightly lit area. A gaggle of Portuguese light horsemen rose as I neared them and I used the fact that they filled the space behind me to hurry on and duck down the alleyway. I ran. Most of the alleyways backed on to businesses. They had a habit of discarding their detritus in the alley. Some broken furniture was my undoing.

  I tripped over a damaged chair and fell sprawling to the cobbles and, although I rose quickly, I heard footsteps pounding behind me. From the sound, there was more than one of them and that explained how they had been able to follow me. I had hurt my knee and while I could run it off until I did it would slow me. I saw the end of the alleyway and hope rose. Then something hit me on the back of the head. I fell once more. Even as I fell, I knew that they had thrown something at me. My guess was a marlin spike. I was slower to rise. The feet closed and I smelled the sweat and stink of my would-be killers. I felt a blade tear through my uniform and into my left shoulder. It was a hurried blow and the killer had acted too hastily; it was not a mortal strike. I drew my dagger, as I rose, and slashed before me. The dagger connected with the hand of one of them.

  Pressing my back into the alley wall I viewed my two assailants. Both were swarthy and had the look of sailors. That explained the marlin spike. The one with the bloodied left hand held a short sailor’s sword in his right. That was what had stabbed me. The other had a wickedly curved dagger. I was lucky in that the strike from behind had not touched a bone nor struck an artery. I was bleeding but it was not a flood. I risked reaching down for my stiletto. The one with the sword lunged. I was a swordsman and whilst I only held a dagger, I would use it like a sword. I flicked the blade away and drew my stiletto. It was little enough but I had no choice. The two men were here to kill me.

  The one with the curved dagger slashed at me. It was how you used such a blade. I could not get out of the way fast enough for my back was against a wall and although I stopped it cutting deeply, the edge slashed across my chest. My uniform bore the brunt of the attack but the razor-sharp weapon scored a line across my flesh. I knew the longer we fought the more chance they had of killing me. I had to take a risk. I lunged at the knife man’s eye. The stiletto was such a narrow blade, almost like a sailor’s bodkin, that he must have thought it was just my hand which came towards him for I was fast and it would have been a blur. The point went into his eye and then his skull. He sank at my feet. The man with the sword was already lunging at me and I tried to deflect it. The sword did not tear into my guts as the killer intended but it did pierce my right side and this time, I felt blood gush. I was a dead man.

  “Oy, what is going on?” A shadow appeared at the end of the alley. “Hey lads, there is an officer here being robbed. Let’s get the bastard!”

  The would-be killer ran. I lunged with my stiletto as he passed me and was rewarded by a shout as I stabbed him in the side. I sank to the floor and closed my eyes.

  “It's Major Matthews! Quick, get him into the light!” Opening my eyes, I saw that it was Trooper Harris of the 23rd. With him were two other troopers. They carried me into the light. Harris shouted, “Go and fetch the regimental doctor. I saw him in the bar around the corner with Lieutenant Frayn.”

  “Right. Is he dead?”

  “You dozy bugger! Would I need a doctor if he had croaked? Sorry, sir. Grab me a cloth. Use the shirt off that other murdering bastard!”

  I could feel myself losing consciousness but I could do little about it.

  “Sir, stay with me. Joe fetch me the brandy off the table! It is rough as but it might help until the sawbones gets here!”

  When the brandy was poured over the wound, I felt such excruciating pain that I opened my eyes and shouted out. Harris laughed, “Well it is good for something.” I felt him press material against my most serious wound, the one in my side.

  My voice was weak, “Harris, I have also been stabbed in the back and the shoulder. Not as bad as this one but the doctor ought to know.”

  He shook his head, “Sir, you are a wonder. Don’t you worry. We won’t let the hero of the ravine die in a Lisbon back alley.”

  I was about to answer when everything went black. I passed out.

  When I awoke, I was in hospital. I saw the doctor from the 23rd standing above me. “Ah, you are awake. You lost a considerable amount of blood. I think you will survive, Major, but you have been lucky.”

  My eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. “Harris?”

  “Trooper Harris and the rest of the men from the 23rd did not wish to risk the wrath of Sir Arthur. There is a curfew for enlisted men you know. They have returned to the encampment.”

  I nodded and my head hurt. I must have banged it when I passed out.

  I heard a voice from behind me, “Don’t worry, sir. I will keep my eye on you.”

  “Sergeant Sharp!”

  He appeared from the shadows, “Aye sir. I was right. I can’t let you out alone. Tonight, was the last time I do so!”

  I nodded, weakly. “You may be right, Sharp. Any clues about my killer?”

  “English, sir.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Tattoos, sir. He was a sailor and the tattoos are in English.” Sharp rubbed his chin, “I suppose he could have been American but Harris reckoned he was English.”

  I nodded, “They did well.”

  “I slipped them a guinea each, sir. I thought you would have wanted me to.”

  “Of course.”

  The doctor put on his tunic, “Now Sergeant, your officer needs to have some rest. If he continues to improve then he can be allowed home in a day or so.”

  “Right sir, I will be happier when I have him under our roof. It is safer that way.”

  The doctor must have realised that Sharp wished to speak with me and stood, “Ten more minutes, Sergeant, and then he sleeps.”

  “Yes, sir, you have my word.”

  When we were alone, he said, “This has all the hallmarks of the Black Widow, sir.”

  “But she must have left Portugal!”

  “I don’t think so. When you didn’t return, I went to the harbour and asked questions. She is an attractive woman and people would remember her. She didn’t take ship after the murder of that official. If she didn’t leave by sea how did she get out of Portugal? I think she has gone to ground here in Lisbon. After we spoke to Colonel Selkirk and Lieutenant Frayn she has been on my mind. I sort of obsessed about her. She nearly did for you, sir, in London, and there are few men got as close as she did. The way I thought about it was this. She is the best at what she does and she failed with you. It wouldn’t sit right with her, would it, sir? I thought I bet she hasn’t left and I was right. I would have told you when you came home but you didn’t.” I heard the underlying criticism, “No-one remembered her boarding ship. I met some lads just back from Oporto and none of them recollected her being there and then one lad, a young sailor off the ‘Maid of Harwich’ said he had seen her two days ago up near the palace. He remembered her as being pretty. No ships have left since then. The bitch, pardon my French sir, is still here,”

  Sharp had done well. He had done better than I had. Had she been scouting out the palace to see if I was there? That would explain the two killers she had left there. Whatever the doctor had given me affected my judgement. I could not th
ink clearly.

  Sharp recognised it and said, “You get your head down, sir. I will sleep here, by the door. If anyone wants to get in, they will have to go over me.”

  “Sharp, I …”

  “No arguments, sir. From what I have seen so far in Spain, Sir Arthur and the army needs you. A couple of nights on the floor will do me no harm.”

  I could not argue for fatigue defeated me and I fell asleep. I slept well, considering the wounds I had suffered. The one in my side had missed vital organs by a finger. The doctor, who was a good surgeon, had stitched the wound but, when he visited the next morning, he counselled me against violent movements.

  “I have sent word to Sir Arthur that you need a month of bed rest. If I had my way then you would stay here in the hospital but beds are at a premium and the 23rd is moving up country. You are a brave man and a tough man, Major, but do not push your luck. A man is only born with so much of it and it seems to me that last night you used more than your fair share.”

  “I promise you, sir, that I will rest. I have Sharp as my nurse,” I laughed, “and, apparently, as my mother too. I will obey him.”

  “Good! I will tell Colonel Hawker. He will be pleased to hear it.”

  Sharp brought my best uniform and arranged for four men to carry me to our home in a sedan chair. Dressing was hard and I was unable to do so without assistance. It told me how close I had come to death. It was embarrassing but necessary. Sharp had Harris and a couple of the troopers to act as my escort. The house we had taken was in a quieter area of Lisbon. The family had gone to Brazil with the royal family and the agent had been more than happy to rent it for a peppercorn rent to an English officer. Now, as we approached it, I wondered if this had been a mistake. It was a quiet area; perhaps too quiet!