Fire and Sword (14 page)

Amalia had lost all track of time. She would never know if it was an hour or two before she finally dozed off. What was certain was that sleep did nothing to soothe her troubled mind. It confronted her with new and more hideous terrors. Twisting and turning on the camp bed, she was lucky not to fall off. At one point in her nightmare, she felt as if someone was trying to cut open her skull with a sharp knife. Amalia could hear the bone being sawn through by the blade. A hand then closed over her mouth and she came awake with a start to discover a figure bending over her in the darkness. Thinking that someone had come to kill her, she fought back with her puny strength.

‘It’s
me
, Amalia,’ whispered Daniel. ‘Don’t struggle.’

She almost cried with relief. ‘How did you get here?’

‘I cut through the canvas.’

‘So that was the noise I heard. I thought my head was being split open by someone.’ She sat up and embraced him. ‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you, Daniel.’

‘Keep your voice down,’ he said. ‘I’ve come to rescue you.’

‘What about Sophie?’

‘Who is she?’

‘She’s my friend,’ said Amalia, indicating the other bed. ‘We can’t leave without her.’

Speaking softly into his ear, she gave him a terse account of what Sophie Prunier was doing there. Daniel was forced to make a hasty decision. Crossing to the other bed, he put one hand over Sophie’s mouth and used the other to rouse her.
When the woman’s eyes blinked open, Amalia reassured her that she was in no danger. Introduced to Daniel and offered the chance of escape, Sophie took time to come fully awake and make up her mind. She kept glancing nervously in the direction of the two guards outside the tent.

‘Would you rather stay here?’ asked Amalia.

‘No,’ said Sophie, getting up. ‘I’ll come.’

‘Hold on for a moment,’ said Daniel.

The women watched while he put a stool on each of the camp beds and covered it with the blanket to make it look as if someone was still there. Then he blew out all but one of the candles. In the dark, all that could be seen were the lumps in the two beds. Daniel believed they’d be enough to deceive anyone who happened to glance in.

He led the way through the slit in the rear of the tent then folded it back in position. Signalling for them to stay low and keep silent, Daniel set off and took them on a meandering path through the camp, skirting any signs of activity. Amalia and Sophie obeyed every order. When he dived full length on the grass and told them to follow suit, they did so without hesitation. Nor did they object to crawling through a hedge then wading up to their knees through a stream. It seemed to take an age to reach the perimeter of the camp. In order to elude the picquets, they had to go down on their stomachs again and inch their way along the ground as soundlessly as possible. By the time they reached the safety of a stand of trees, Amalia and Sophie were soaked, filthy and trembling with fright.

Daniel tried to instil confidence in them by stressing that the worst was over. Under the cover of the trees, he was able to lead them to the place where he’d earlier concealed the two horses he’d brought into the camp. They were sufficiently far away from danger to be able to speak to each other at last.

‘I know that Amalia can ride,’ he said. ‘What about you, Sophie?’

‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘I learnt to ride as a girl.’

‘Mount up and follow this road until you come to an old mill. It’s quite dilapidated but a useful place to hide. I noticed it on the way here. Wait for me at the mill.’

‘Where will you be?’ asked Amalia, worried.

‘I have to retrieve my wagon,’ he explained. ‘If I can get that out of the camp, you’ll be able to travel in a little more comfort.’

‘What if we get lost?’

‘Stay on this road and there’s no chance of that, Amalia.’

‘How long will you be?’

‘That will depend on how lucky I am. I should be no more than an hour. If I’m not there by dawn, ride off without me.’

Amalia was aghast. ‘We can’t do that, Daniel.’

‘Do you want to be recaptured?’

‘No, no…it’s frightening in there.’

‘Then do as I say,’ he went on, handing her his map. ‘There’s a road that runs north from the mill. When you have enough light, you’ll see from the map that it will take
you to Terbanck where our army is camped. I’ll follow you somehow.’

‘I still can’t believe that you got here, Captain Rawson,’ said Sophie, unable to understand his conversation with Amalia in Dutch. ‘How did you get inside the camp?’

‘I’ll tell you that in due course,’ he replied, speaking in French. ‘Ride off to the old mill with Amalia. There’s food and wine in the saddlebags to sustain you.’

‘Thank you. I can’t tell you what this means to me.’

‘There’s no time to talk,’ he told them. ‘I need to sneak back into the camp for the wagon. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

After helping Amalia up into the saddle, he did the same for Sophie, repeating his orders once more. Scared that he’d no longer be with them, they left with misgivings. Daniel watched them go until they were swallowed up by the darkness. He then went back to the camp along the same route used to leave it, eluding the picquets and going in a wide circle towards the area where his wagon was waiting. The horse was harnessed and the vehicle was ready to leave even though he wasn’t entirely sure how or if he’d get it out of the camp. Alphonse had unwittingly shown him one possibility. It would involve taking the wagon across the stream higher up where the noise he’d create was less likely to be overheard.

The main object of the exercise had been achieved. Amalia had been rescued and she was now relatively safe. The presence of Sophie Prunier was an unforeseen
complication but one that had to be accommodated. Daniel had seen the bond that had grown up between the two women during their imprisonment. Sophie had obviously helped Amalia endure the horrors of being in French hands and, for that reason alone, Daniel was willing to involve her in the escape. First, however, he had to retrieve his wagon.

Creeping between the tents, he reached the area where the camp followers were stationed and moved between their carts and wagons like a phantom. Nobody stirred. When he was almost there, Daniel allowed himself a moment of
self-congratulation.
So far his plan had worked to perfection. There was only one problem.

His wagon had disappeared.

‘They should have caught them by now,’ complained Welbeck.

‘I agree, Sergeant,’ said Jonathan Ainley. ‘But, as far as I know, they haven’t had so much of a glimpse of the band.’

‘They must be hiding somewhere.’

‘That’s the problem. In this terrain, there are far too many excellent hiding places. Whenever they see one of our patrols, the villains simply go to ground. At least,’ he added, ‘there have been no more incidents.’

‘That proves nothing, sir.’

‘No, I suppose that it doesn’t.’

They were standing outside Lieutenant Ainley’s quarters and Welbeck was showing impatience. Having seen the way
that the marauding redcoats had destroyed a farm, he was desperate to hear of their arrest and annoyed that he could take no part in it. He found it frustrating that the patrols sent out after the men had made no apparent progress.

‘In a sense,’ said Ainley, ‘it’s really not our problem. Most of them deserted from the same cavalry regiment.’

‘You’re forgetting Private Lock, sir. He’s from the 24
^th
.’

‘We can’t be absolutely certain that he’s involved.’

‘I can,’ said Welbeck. ‘I feel it in my bones. It’s just the kind of thing that would attract a man like Edwin Lock. He has no respect for authority or for other people’s property. When I caught him stealing from the other men, I beat him to a pulp.’

‘You should have had him flogged, Sergeant Welbeck.’

‘I didn’t want to let him off so lightly.’

Welbeck gave a grim chuckle. Though he was no admirer of Ainley, he found him the most approachable of the officers and, as such, a useful source of information.

‘Is there any news of Captain Rawson?’ he asked.

‘I fancy that I should be asking that question of you,’ said Ainley with a smile. ‘You always seem to know far more about his movements than I do. All that I can tell you is that he left camp on his own.’

‘That much I already know. What he didn’t tell me is why.’

‘I can’t help you on that score, Sergeant. If he’s been given another assignment, then he could be anywhere.
As you know, His Grace places the greatest trust in the captain.’

‘He sometimes asks too much of him.’

‘I’m not sure that that’s possible,’ said the other, admiringly. ‘Captain Rawson has nine lives. He’s gathered intelligence in the most dangerous places and always returned unharmed. And I don’t need to tell you how utterly fearless he is in battle.’

‘No, sir, I’ve served under him for a long time.’

‘He relies heavily on people like you.’

‘He does, sir,’ said Welbeck, meaningfully. ‘He knows that I can always tell if a man is lying or telling the truth. At first glance, I had my suspicions of Ralph Higgins.’

Ainley was contrite. ‘I’m still embarrassed about that little lapse on my behalf,’ he said. ‘I’ll be more careful in the future.’

‘I’m sure that you will, Lieutenant.’

Behind the deferential comment, Welbeck kept his scorn for the officer well concealed. He was on the point of taking his leave when he heard shouts and laughter. They were prompted by the arrival of two horses. One was ridden by an attractive young woman while the other carried a man and a woman. Ainley couldn’t understand why they were given such a noisy welcome but Welbeck recognised Daniel immediately, even though he was still in disguise.

Seeing his two friends, Daniel came across to them and whisked off his hat. Ainley was amazed to see who it was.
Dismounting swiftly, Daniel helped Amalia down from the same horse then lifted Sophie down from the other animal. He introduced the two women to Ainley.

‘Lieutenant,’ he said, ‘would you be so kind as to escort the two ladies to His Grace? They have useful intelligence to impart. I’ll join them in His Grace’s quarters directly.’

‘Yes, Captain,’ said Ainley, pleased to be given the task. ‘I’ll pass on that message.’ He smiled at the women. ‘Follow me, ladies.’

‘I might have known there’d be a woman in the case,’ said Welbeck as he watched the others walk away. ‘You had two of them this time, Dan.’

‘That was unintentional,’ said Daniel. ‘Mademoiselle Prunier was being held captive with Amalia in the French camp. I had to rescue both of them.’

‘I see that you only brought
two
horses so that you had an excuse to put your arms around Amalia.’

‘That’s not true at all, Henry. I’d hoped to bring all three of us back in Ralph Higgins’ wagon but it went astray. I had to leave the French camp without it.’

‘Is that how you got there – in Higgins’ wagon?’

‘Yes…but I’ll have to find another way next time.’

‘You’re surely not going back.’

‘When I’ve given my report to His Grace, I have to return.’

Welbeck grinned. ‘How many more women need to be rescued?’

‘I’m not trying to release a hostage this time. I’m going back for my sword. It was hidden in the wagon that was stolen.’

‘Spare yourself the trouble and buy yourself another sword.’

‘I can’t do that. This one is very special to me. I’ve told you the story of how I came to acquire it.’

‘Yes,’ recalled Welbeck. ‘You were given it after the battle of Sedgemoor by His Grace – except that he was Lord Churchill in those days, and your father had fought against him.’

‘It’s because of what happened then that I’m certain His Grace will give me permission to go back, especially when I tell him that I have an inkling of where those renegades might be hiding.’

‘You do – where are they, Dan?’

‘You’ll be able to see for yourself,’ Daniel told him. ‘There’s something I forgot to mention – you’ll be coming with me.’

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.’

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.