Drums of War (28 page)

'I
still haven't told you what I found out,' he said.

'Then
do so now.'

'It's
become a little confused in my mind, I fear. During those weeks in the
Bastille, I rather lost my bearings.'

'I
can understand why,' said Daniel.

'Where
shall I start?'

'Go
back to the time when you were last in touch with Pierre Lefeaux. All the intelligence
you sent him would have reached us. What else is there to add?'

'I
overheard a conversation between the king and one of his advisers. They were
talking about next year's campaigns.'

'That
sounds promising. What exactly was said?'

Janssen's
account was rambling but full of interesting detail. It led on to other
intelligence that he'd gleaned. Daniel was patient, drawing the information
slowly out of him and sifting it as he did so. Until his arrest, the
tapestry-maker had been an assiduous spy. His weakness was an inability to
distinguish fact from anecdote. Much of what he said was of no military value
to the Allies but it was offset by some significant intelligence. At the end of
their conversation, Janssen sought information of another kind.

'Tell
me what happened to Pierre Lefeaux,' he requested. 'When I mentioned his name
before, I sensed that you were not telling me the whole truth.'

'Monsieur
Lefeaux is no longer able to help us,' said Daniel, his face impassive. 'That's
all you need to know.'

'Has
he been arrested as well?'

'It
amounts to that.'

'You're
holding something back from me,' said Janssen. 'Pierre and his wife were dear
friends of mine. I'm entitled to be told what became of them. Is Pierre still
alive?'

'No,'
confessed Daniel.

'What
happened to him?'

'He
was executed.'

'What
about his wife?'

'She
met the same fate.'

Janssen
reeled as if from a blow. "This is my fault,' he said, eyes filled with
contrition. 'I must have blundered in some way and caused their deaths. I'll never
forgive myself for that.'

'I
suspect that it may have been the other way round,' said Daniel, sadly.
'Monsieur Lefeaux was probably caught first and your name was beaten out of
him. There was clear evidence he'd been tortured. The French police are searching
for our agents all the time. You've no need to feel any guilt.'

'I'm
bound to, Daniel,' said Janssen. 'All I ever wanted to do with my life was to
weave tapestries and bring up my daughter. It was madness for me to go to Paris
in the first place.'

'I
disagree. The rewards have been considerable.'

'Forgive
me if I fail to see any of them. As a result of what I did, two good people
were put to death, I was imprisoned and Amalia and the others were locked in a
nightmare. I know how close you are to the Duke,' he went on, taking Daniel by
the shoulders. 'Can you please ask him when this damnable war will end?'

Major
Simon Cracknell kept him waiting. Ordinarily, he would have no dealings with
anyone caught absent without leave but, when the name of Tom Hillier passed
before him, he took a keen interest. The young drummer was kept under guard all
morning. It was only after he'd washed his luncheon down with a glass of wine
that the major chose to send for the miscreant. With a guard at his side,
Hillier came into the major's tent looking exhausted and fearful. The major
made him stand there in silence for a few minutes while he pretended to read
the report on the table in front of him.

'Well?'
he said at length, looking up. 'What do you have to say for yourself?'

'I
would like to make an unreserved apology, sir.'

'To
whom?'

'To
you, Major.'

'Any
apology needs to be directed at the British army for breaking its regulations.
You're well aware of them by now.'

'I
am, sir,' admitted Hillier.

'So
why did you flout them?'

'It
was a mistake.'

'It
was a very bad mistake,' said Cracknell, 'but I want to know what lies behind
it. What possessed you to go absent without leave?'

'It
was only for a short time.'

'One
minute is too long. Regulations are there to be obeyed. You seem unable to
grasp that fact.' He flicked a glance at the report. 'What were the names of
the others?'

'I
was on my own, sir.'

'Don't
lie to me.'

'I
went for a walk in the night and strayed outside the boundary. That's all that
happened, Major.'

'Then
perhaps you'll explain why this report differs from your account. According to
this, you were part of a group. Instead of going for a walk, you were actually
caught running as hard as you could.'

'I
was eager to return to camp, sir.'

'You
should never have left it in the first place.'

'I
accept that, Major.'

'Give
me the names of your companions.'

'I
had none,' said Hillier, determined not to give his friends away. 'I was
alone.'

'And
where had you been during the night?'

'I
told you, Major. I went for a stroll.'

'And
did that stroll, by any chance, take you towards the town?'

'No,
sir.'

'Are
you telling me that you didn't leave camp in order to roister in a tavern or
dip your prick in some greasy whore?'

Hillier
blushed. 'I went nowhere near the town, sir.'

'What
about your friends?'

'There
were
no friends, Major.'

'In
some respects,' said Cracknell, 'I suppose that's correct. When you fell over
in the stream, none of your so-called friends stopped to help you up. They
thought only of themselves. That being the case, you've no need to be misled by
false loyalty. They left you to face the punishment they should all share.'

'There
was nobody else involved, Major,' insisted Hillier.

The
officer sat back in his chair. 'What view do you think your uncle would take of
all this?'

'That's
not for me to say, sir.'

'Sergeant
Welbeck will be very disappointed to hear that a nephew of his sneaked off to
wallow in some filthy brothel. He'll be even more upset to hear that you don't
have the courage to name the others who took part in the sorry escapade. You'd
never have done this on your own, would you? I think you were led astray by
them.'

'I
went of my own accord, Major.'

'Are
you willing to suffer while the other culprits go free?'

Hillier
made no reply. Getting to his feet, Cracknell walked across to stand in front
of him and fix him with a cold stare. Wanting to blink and swallow hard, the
drummer steeled himself to do neither. Whatever else he did, he resolved not to
show weakness. The major was intent on humbling him. Self- respect made Hillier
stand there without flinching.

'This
is your last chance,' said Cracknell, making each word feel like a pinprick.
'Name your companions or I'll be forced to increase the severity of the
punishment.' Hillier said nothing. Losing his patience, the major waved a hand.
'Take him away and stand guard over him. He's to be allowed neither food nor
water.'

Welbeck
was giving instructions to a corporal when he saw his visitor. Hugh Dobbs was hurrying
towards him between the parallel lines of tents. His manner was furtive and his
expression doleful. Welbeck dismissed the corporal with a peremptory nod then
folded his arms, breathing in deeply through his nose.

'Go
straight back where you came from,' he said when the drummer reached him. 'I
want to hear no more tittle-tattle.'

'But
this is important, Sergeant.'

'Behaving
like a soldier is the only thing of importance in the army. I suggest that you
grow up and start doing it.'

'Don't
you want to hear what Major Cracknell has done?'

'No,
lad, I do not.'

'But
you'll be there when it happens.'

'I
told you to stop bothering me,' said Welbeck. 'If you come within ten yards of
me again, I'll have you put under armed guard.'

'That's
where Tom is at the moment.'

The
sergeant narrowed his lids. 'What did you say?'

'Tom
Hillier was absent without leave last night. He was taken before Major
Cracknell. But,' he went on, turning away, 'since you don't want to know
anything about your own nephew, I won't tell you the news. You'll find it out
soon enough anyway.'

Welbeck
grabbed his shoulder and spun him round so that Dobbs was looking up into the
sergeant's unforgiving face. Though his tone was brusque, he could not hide the
flicker of interest.

'What
news?' he demanded.

'On
the major's orders, Tom is going to be flogged.'

Fortune
could not favour them indefinitely. After the shock of being ambushed and held
captive, they'd enjoyed a relatively clear run along the French roads. Three of
them were on horseback and, though Amalia was accustomed to riding side-saddle,
she was coping well in a less ladylike sitting position. Dopff provided the
real surprise. His initial reluctance to act as coachman had given way to a
positive relish for the task. He improved steadily and, with only two people on
board, the vehicle was no strain for the powerful animal between the shafts.
Dopff had overcome his natural fear of horses to develop a close relationship
with this one. Whenever they rested, it was the little Dutchman who fed his
horse or led it to water and he spent a lot of time simply standing beside the
animal and patting it.

They
encountered their first setback that afternoon. Riding ahead of them, Daniel
spotted a detachment of soldiers marching towards him along the main road. He
immediately galloped back to the others and diverted them on to a meandering
track through a forest, hoping that it would take them in the right direction.
Dopff's inexperience soon told. On a proper road, he could handle the coach
with assurance but a bumpy track that constantly twisted and turned was another
matter. He began to lose confidence. What broke his nerve completely was the
appearance of a wild boar that darted suddenly out of some thickets and sped
across their path. The coach horse neighed in alarm and bolted. Dopff tried
manfully to keep hold of the reins until the overhanging branch of a tree swept
him off his seat altogether.

The
other horses had also been scared by the boar. Amalia and her father were
struggling to control their mounts but it was Beatrix who was in most danger.
As the coach careered on madly without a driver, brushing past thick bushes and
bouncing off trees, she was thrown helplessly from side to side. Daniel
responded at once. With a sharp dig of his heels, he galloped after the
vehicle, praying that he could reach it before it overturned or was badly
damaged. Beatrix's life was at stake. She was screaming hysterically. The track
was narrow but there was just enough room for Daniel to pass. As he drew level,
however, the coach lurched sideways and buffeted his horse, forcing him to pull
back and wait until a better chance presented itself. Beatrix's howls grew more
desperate by the second.

Bushes
and trees then vanished magically as the coach entered a large clearing. Daniel
didn't waste his opportunity. Kicking more speed out of his mount, he overtook
the coach, came up alongside the horse and reached out to grab its bridle,
pulling hard as he did so. The coach described a wide semicircle in the grass
before finally coming to a halt. Daniel dismounted and made sure that the coach
horse was sufficiently calmed before he ran to the vehicle itself. The moment
he opened the door, Beatrix fell out gratefully into his arms, blubbering like
a child. She was heavily bruised and frightened out of her wits but no bones
had been broken.

Dopff
had been less fortunate. Knocked from the driving seat, he'd tumbled to the
ground and banged his head against the solid trunk of a tree. He was unconscious
for several minutes and blood oozed from the gash in his skull. Amalia quickly
tore off part of her petticoat to use as a bandage. She and her father crouched
over Dopff until his eyelids at last flickered. They praised him for his
bravery and assured him that he was not responsible for what had happened. He
was still far too dazed to understand them.

Having
sat Beatrix on the grass and given her a sip of water from a flagon they'd
providentially filled, Daniel was able to inspect the damage to the coach. It
consisted largely of scratches and dents though something had smashed a hole in
one door. Daniel was more concerned about the coach horse, going over it
carefully for signs of injury. Apart from several grazes, some of them
spattered with blood, the animal had come through unscathed. It was now
nibbling at some grass. Daniel was relieved. He'd learnt his lesson. From now
on, he wouldn't foist the job of driving the coach on to Dopff. The risk was
too great.