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Authors: Edward Marston

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BOOK: Soldier of Fortune
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'He
won't get far,' said one soldier.

'All
the gates will have been closed by now,' said another.

'He's
trapped in the city and everyone's looking for him.'

'We'll
roast him alive when we catch him.'

'He
can have my bayonet up his arse.'

At
the moment he made the threat, the soldier thrust his bayonet into the stack of
carpets and missed Daniel by less than an inch. Before the man could repeat the
exercise, the carpet dealer rushed around in a panic from the front of the
stall and begged him not to damage any more of his ware. When the soldier
relented and moved on, Daniel dared to breathe properly again. Had it made
contact, the bayonet would have ripped him apart and the dealer would never
have been able to sell a carpet that was sliced open and soaked with blood. The
hunt continued but it was slowly moving away from Daniel. For the time being at
least, he was safe.

When
news of the victory at Donauworth reached the Imperial capital, there was
delight and celebration. Vienna toasted the success of the Confederate army and
gave thanks to God for their deliverance from a menacing foe. The tidings were
received with more muted enthusiasm in The Hague. While the States-General
appreciated the significance of the victory, they were horrified by the high
number of casualties in the battle and felt that the captain-general should
have protected his troops more carefully instead of sacrificing them to enemy
fire.

The
Dutch, however, decided to mark the event by casting a victory medal. On the
obverse side was an image of Louis, Margrave of Baden. A Latin inscription
adorned the other side. In translation, it read: "The enemy defeated and
put to flight and their camp plundered at Schellenberg near Donauworth."
There was no reference whatsoever to the Duke of Marlborough, who had planned
and achieved the signal victory. It was almost as if he had taken no part
whatsoever in the engagement. The medal was a calculated insult to him.

Unaware
of the snub that awaited him, Marlborough amused himself by reading out the
letter sent to him by Leopold, Emperor of Austria. It was written in Leopold's
own hand, an honour reserved only for an exceptional situation. When it had
been translated, Adam Cardonnel was interested to hear the full text of the
letter, filled, as it was, with an extravagance of expression totally at odds
with the prosaic despatches from the Dutch.

'Illustrious,
Sincerely Beloved,'
Marlborough read.
'Your desert
towards me, my house, and the common cause, are great and many, and the
singular application, care and diligence, which you have expressed, in bringing
up and hastening the powerful succours, which the most serene and potent Queen
of Great Britain and the States-General of the United Netherlands, have sent me
to the Danube, are not to be ranked in the last place; but nothing can be more
glorious than what you have done, after the conjunction of your army with mine,
in the most speedy and vigorous attack and forcing of the enemy's camp at
Donawert, the second of this month; since my generals themselves, and ministers,
declare that the success of that enterprise (which is more acceptable and
advantageous to me, in the present time, than almost anything else that could
befall me) is chiefly owing to your counsels, prudence and execution, and the
wonderful bravery and constancy of the troops, who fought under your command.
This will be an eternal trophy to your most serene Queen in Upper Germany,
whither the victorious arms of the English nation have never penetrated since
the memory of man.'

Though
diverted by the flowery language, Marlborough was very touched. It proved that
his arduous efforts had been given full recognition by someone. Cardonnel
raised a mischievous eyebrow.

'Should
we send a copy of the letter to The Hague?' he asked.

'They
would denounce it as a forgery, Adam.'

'How
would it be received in England?'

'Parliament
would revile any praise of me.'

'You
won a notable victory - what more do they want?'

'A
miracle,' said Marlborough. 'Both Parliament and the States General want a
battle in which the enemy suffers casualties while our troops survive
miraculously without even soiling their uniforms.'

'They
do not even give you credit for having come this far, Your Grace. To complete
such a remarkable march and then to have such a triumph at the end of it, is an
extraordinary achievement. It's a peal of bells that will ring down the
centuries.'

'Now,
now, Adam,' cautioned Marlborough. 'Let's not smile at the Emperor's
exaggeration then indulge in some of our own. Instead of speculating about our
place in history, we must simply look ahead a few days at the time. As for
Emperor Leopold,' he added, 'instead of writing a letter, I would have much
preferred him to send me the heavy guns that he promised. All I have from him
is the mixed blessing of the Margrave of Baden.'

'Baden
is wondering what our next move will be.'

'Ideally,
I would either like to entice the Elector out of Augsburg so that we can fight
another battle against his depleted forces. Or,' said Marlborough, 'I would
like to persuade him that he should abandon his alliance with the French.'

'I
foresee difficulties, Your Grace,' said Cardonnel with a frown. 'To achieve
either objective, you'd need to lay waste to the Bavarian countryside. Only
when he heard that his pretty towns and villages have been burnt to the ground,
would the Elector be forced to fight or sue for peace.'

'On
past experience, he may do neither.'

'His
correspondence is markedly less hostile than it has been.'

'I
fancy he is trying to woo us into the belief that he may join us,' said
Marlborough, 'while still holding firmly to the French. If and when Tallard
appears on the horizon, the Elector's letters may take on a different tone.'

'Tallard
is still crossing the Black Forest mountains.'

'It's
the second time this year he's done that, Adam. The scenery will begin to bore
him. He came through the forest in May to deliver reinforcements to Marshal
Marsin and the Elector. Tallard will be shocked to learn how many of those
troops we killed.'

Their
discussion was interrupted by a British lieutenant. After announcing his
arrival, he was invited into the tent. Over his arm was a long red coat with
the insignia of a captain on it. In his other hand, he carried a tricorn hat
covered in dust. He exchanged greetings then held up the two items.

'I
led a patrol earlier today, Your Grace,' he said, 'and we found these discarded
on the plain.'

Marlborough
winced. 'Did they belong to Captain Rawson?'

'I
fear that they did.'

'Is
there any blood on the coat?'

'None
at all,' replied the lieutenant.

'Then
there's still a faint hope.'

'Why
should Captain Rawson have taken off his coat and hat?' asked Cardonnel. 'Were
they left there as some sort of signal?'

'We
may never know,' said Marlborough sadly. He took the coat and held it with almost
reverential care. 'No man wore his uniform with more pride and gallantry than
Daniel Rawson. If he is no longer alive - and we must accept that grim
possibility - he leaves a gap in our army that will never be filled.'

Though
the hunt had moved on from the market square, Daniel knew that he could not
remain indefinitely in his hiding place. When the dealer finished trading for
the day and loaded his carpets on to his wagon, he would find the fugitive and
call for help. Sooner or later, Daniel had to get away. His problem was that he
was too conspicuous and he could not always conceal himself in a crowd. Having
lost his coat and hat by necessity, he was wearing a shirt, a waistcoat, a
cravat, breeches and a pair of boots. The cravat was untied at once. Now that
he had a moment to inspect the flesh wound in his arm, he was able to bind it
with the cravat and stop the blood trickling down his arm.

Daniel
needed a disguise. The soldiers involved in the search were looking for a
British officer bereft of his coat and hat. They would have been given a rough
description of his appearance. It had to be changed. Behind the adjacent stall
were some sacks that had been emptied of the fruit and vegetables they had
contained. Making sure that nobody saw him, Daniel crept over to grab one of
the sacks, tearing a hole in one end and in both sides so that he could slip it
over his head and put his arms through. When he rolled up his sleeves, he had
already transformed himself into a countryman in a smock.

His
boots, however, were too expensive for any rustic to wear yet he could hardly
abandon them. Picking up a second sack, he tore it into strips and tied them
around his boots like cross-gartering. Since the sack had been filled with
potatoes, it had a liberal supply of earth in it as well. Daniel used it to rub
on his face and on the sleeves of his shirt. Having no cap, he retrieved a
wooden box from the ground and hoisted it up on to his shoulder, thus obscuring
the side of his face. He felt confident enough to put his disguise to the rest.

Stepping
between the stalls, he joined the crowd in the square. By leaning forward,
hunching his shoulders and adopting a limp, he looked very different from the
tall, striking, virile Captain Rawson. One or two people tossed him a curious
glance but nobody stopped to question him, still less to hail the search party.
He was dismissed by those who noticed him as a slow-witted country bumpkin who
had drifted into the city on market day like so many from the surrounding area.
It was a long time since he had last eaten. To stave off hunger, he bought a
hunk of bread then drank water from the chained iron cup beside the pump. He
felt restored.

Daniel
realised that his disguise had limited use. It might deceive the casual
observer in a crowd but it would not pass the more searching scrutiny of the
guards at the various gates. If he tried to walk past them, Daniel would
probably be arrested, and none of the people returning to their farms would be
taken in by him. Close to, they would recognise him as an impostor. His hands
were strong but they had not been mottled and hardened by work on the land.
While his face might be dirty, his hair was still too well-groomed and had no
resemblance to the unkempt thatch of a labourer.

Making
use of the crowds, Daniel took the opportunity to get his bearings, noting
which road led to the main gate and which to the other gates that pierced the
city wall. He passed a group of Bavarian soldiers at one point and they ignored
him completely. Hours slipped by and the first shadows of evening began to
creep across Augsburg. Vendors dismantled their stalls and loaded their unsold
wares on to wagons and carts. The last customers started to leave the
marketplace. Deprived of his cover, Daniel sneaked off down a foul- smelling
alleyway, still carrying the box on his shoulder and avoiding the gaze of
anyone who went by in the opposite direction. He felt more vulnerable now,
worried that he might encounter a patrol and be stopped for questioning.

General
Salignac would not abandon the search. As long as Daniel was in the city, he
was in grave danger. Having no weapon, his disguise was his only means of
defence. When he came to a corner where two donkeys were tethered, he sat
against the wall beside them to consider his next move. The animals shielded
him from the gaze of the occasional passerby and enabled him to have his first
proper rest since the exertions of the duel. With light fading out of the sky,
he turned his thoughts to Abigail Piper and to the two men who had abducted
her. On her behalf, Daniel had been able to kill Frédéric Seurel and he hoped
that he would one day be in a position to dispose of Charles Catto as well. It
was Catto who had kidnapped Abigail and kept her in a state of terror. Daniel
wanted him dead.

General
Armand Salignac was still shaking with fury. As he paced the floor of his
quarters, he rid himself of a whole series of expletives before rounding on
Charles Catto.

'Why
did you let him get away like that?' he demanded.

'I
was too busy helping my friend, General.'

'You
should have gone after the rogue.'

'Frédéric
had been run through,' said Catto reasonably. 'I could hardly race off and
leave him there in that condition. He and I have endured many misadventures
these past couple of months. Captain Rawson has been an elusive quarry.'

'I
want him caught and brought here!' roared Salignac.

'I'm
sure that he will be - in time.'

'What's
taking them so long?'

'Augsburg
is a big place, General. It has lots of hiding places.'

'I
want every one of them searched. I said from the start that we should have sent
French soldiers after him. These mutton-headed Bavarians are as blind as bats.'

'They
know
the city,' Catto told him. 'Our soldiers do not. While we are waiting - and it
will not be a long wait, God willing - you may wish to decide on a suitable
death for Captain Rawson.'

'I'll
have him hanged and left to rot.'

'Would
you not prefer to take him on in a duel again? You are far superior as a
swordsman and drew the first blood.'

'My
wrist is still sore,' said the other, rubbing it gently with the other hand.
'When my sword hit that wall, it sprained my wrist and jolted my arm. Captain
Rawson was very fortunate in that duel. He'll have no such luck next time.'

'I'm
sorry that Frédéric will not be there to see him die.'

'There's
someone else I would like to have been present at his execution,' said
Salignac, thinking of his wife.

'I
kept a full reckoning of our expenses,' said Catto, taking some papers from his
pocket. 'Is this a convenient time to give them to you?' 'No, it's not!'

'You
told me to keep an accurate record, General Salignac.'

'What
I told you to do was to kill Captain Rawson.'

'I
felt that
you
would enjoy that more than either of us.'

'And
I would have done,' said Salignac, 'had he not slipped through my fingers like
that. On balance, it would have been better if you had obeyed the orders you
were given.'

'Catching
him alive was more difficult than killing him.'

'But
you've not caught him,' said Salignac. 'The man is at large.'

'That
was an accident, General.' He held up the papers. 'As for my reckoning...'

'Don't
bother me with that now, Charles!'

'You
promised to pay our expenses and give us a large reward.'

'The
money has to be earned first. Until Captain Rawson has been captured and put to
death, you'll get nothing. Put your papers away,' shouted Salignac, knocking
them from his hand and sending them floating to the floor, 'and stop bothering
me!'

Charles
Catto controlled his indignation. 'I'll join the search,' he said and went
swiftly out of the room.

BOOK: Soldier of Fortune
8.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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