The Sabre's Edge (22 page)

At midday, the adjutant had conducted the auction of Barrow's effects. Usually, when a widow was known to the officers, or else the family, it was an occasion for generous over-bidding to provide a gratuity that a grateful government could not find itself able to disburse. In Barrow's case there had always been mixed feelings, although in the end there was a grim admiration for his ultimate gesture of honour. The major, it was agreed, excelled himself, opening the auction by telling the assembled bidders to where the money would be sent, declaring that 'a man is more than his worst error' and that Captain Ezra Barrow had served his king for over thirty years and the Sixth for more than fifteen. At the end of the proceedings, the adjutant announced that the sum of £8
’
7 would be sent to Mr Joshua Barrow of the Almshouses, Yardley, near Birmingham. It was a handsome figure, and, in the curious way of these things, it did something to restore the pride of those assembled, for in the last resort they had not let down their erstwhile comrade; and loyalty was nothing if it was easy. Barrow had certainly paid a heavy price himself: a pennyworth of powder had blown away three thousand pounds, at the very least, for on death the value of his commission reverted to the Crown.

That evening Hervey dined with the Somerviles. He was especially glad to do so, for as well as having the ugly circumstances of the past days to put behind him, he had not seen his friends in more than a week. He arrived a little late, however, having gone by way of the horse lines to reassure himself of the progress of his mare. Within a day of the veterinarian's surgery, the little Marwari had begun to eat - at first warm mashes, and now hard feed. The wounds had remained clean, the inflammation was gone, and so was the fever. In so short a time, Hervey thought it a veritable miracle, and he was extolling David Sledge's skill for a full quarter of an hour after arriving at No. 3, Fort William.

'And wh
at so particularly commends him’
he concluded, now well into his second glass of champagne, 'is his devotion to his own greater understanding. His rooms are piled with treatises and papers.'

Somervile was happy to indulge him, and for practical reasons. At the onset of the unhealthy season, confidence in any practitioner, even veterinary, was reassuring. 'Calcutta is as full of quacks as anywhere - fuller, probably. I shall ask him to dine with us,' he said. 'Would it be entirely proper to ask him to look at my stable?'

'I don't see why not. He's not greatly engaged at present, I'm pleased to say.'

Somervile nodded, indicating that the matter was decided.

A khitmagar made to top up Hervey's glass, but he declined. 'Is Emma to join us?'

'Yes, very shortly. I'm sorry to say she has been sick these last few days.'

Hervey supposed that few husbands in Calcutta could be as direct as Somervile. 'I hope nothing—'

'No, no. I shouldn't think so. Calcutta's just a deuced sight unhealthier place than Madras, but Emma has a native constitution. I shouldn't distress yourself.'

He would try not to, difficult though that was with notice of even the slightest illness.

Somervile seemed keen to change the subject. 'I have some intelligence that will interest you.'

'I dare not hope it is of Peto?' replied Hervey, sounding a shade despondent. 'His last letter was a disheartening affair. Said he might as well be commanding a guardship.'

'I regret not. Not even of the war, indeed, for that generally proceeds ill, although there are to be reinforcements - and in good measure -for Rangoon. Campbell ought soon to take the offensive.'

Hervey snorted. 'That was, of course, his purpose in going to Rangoon in the first place!'

Somervile merely raised his eyebrows. 'Well, I am glad to say that my intelligence has at least provided Campbell with the means to do his job. No, the news I was referring to is that Combermere is to replace Paget.'

Hervey sat up. A new commander-in-chief would at any time be ripe news, but now, and the name Combermere - it was the ripest. 'Is this the Governor-General's doing? It would be ill indeed if Paget is to take the blame for things in Ava!'

'Oh no, there's no suggestion of Paget's being relieved. His tenure in command is routinely ended. Indeed, the change - if our intelligence is correct - will not be until next year. But Combermere is a friend of yours, is he not?'

Hervey smiled. 'I could hardly claim that. We have met on occasions, and he has a good memory.'

Somervile smiled broader. 'Then you shall have to meet on more occasions, and place yourself at
the
forefront
of his memory!'

Hervey smiled again. But that, indeed, was how it was done. He'd seen it time and again. Perhaps if he had not been so keen to leave the Duke of Wellington's staff he would by now be well placed for advancement instead of, in truth, having marked time a full ten years. And - he hardly dared admit it - with things as they were in the Sixth, what future was there at regimental duty? In Calcutta nothing happened other than death by Nature's hand (or one's own, for every regiment had its Barrow). 'We must see.'

Emma Somervile came in. She looked well enough, thought Hervey, but the rouge did not entirely mask her pallor. She sat next to her husband on a high-backed settee and placed her hand on his. 'And how are you, in the circumstances, Matthew?'

Hervey returned her smile. 'In the circumstances, well, I believe. I am troubled to learn you are not in the best of sorts, however.'

Emma frowned. 'Oh, these things . . . but tell me, what else have you been speaking of?'

'I was telling him the news of Lord Combermere's being appointed to commander-in-chief, my dear.'

Emma brightened again. 'Yes,
good news
for you, Matthew, is it not? Tell me of him.'

'He was at the best of schools.' Hervey smiled just a little wryly.

She at once understood, and turned to her husband with mock solemnity.

'A very long time in advance of me, my dear.

And I do not recall his name in academic honours.'

^‘
He
was a great man for campaigning’
added Hervey. 'Since the Peninsula, though, he has not been at field duty. There again, neither, indeed, has anyone other than here in India. I confess I don't know how things are in Ireland. He's commander-in-chief there.'

'So I understand too,' said Somervile. 'Well, he is going to need a very fine head upon those fine military shoulders of his to ravel up the mess in Ava. And believe me, there's trouble brewing in Hindoostan too. Every week that we flounder in Rangoon - and Arakan for that matter, since it seems little better there - the malcontents among the country powers grow more impudent. But Amherst won't see it.' He glanced at Emma and shook his head a shade wearily. 'Oh yes, be in no doubt: if Combermere takes the reins here he'll be pitched into the middle of trouble - east
and
west.'

'Shall we go and dine?' said Emma, looking a little anxious, and making to stand. 'Ghulam says we may.'

. Somervile was on his feet at once with a hand to Emma's elbow, but she rose unaided.

'I really am in fine health, Eyre,' she insisted, using her fan just a touch. 'I should have returned a little earlier from the assembly, that is all.'

The dining room minded Hervey of home, for whereas the mess and his bungalow were handsome enough, they were wood-built, and the houses at Fort William were stone. And there was a solidity about the place that spoke more of the permanence of the Honourable Company than could the military lines, whose occupants were after all mere birds of passage. The furniture and fittings were mahogany, teak and brass rather than the quartermaster's pine, cane and pewter. And the family portraits, here and not at some English seat, said that the Somerviles were India people - native almost, as Eyre Somervile himself had once said. Emma had been to England, as she always called it, not 'home', but once in the dozen and more years since she had first joined her brother in Madras. Her husband had not been even once.

'How is your groom?' she asked, as a khitmagar began to serve them soup. 'And that corporal of yours - the one who brought you to the ship?'

'Wainwright, you mean.' Hervey's face at once registered intense pride. 'Without whom I should not be enjoying your hospitality now. I'm pleased to say he has been advanced to the head of the seniority roll. He may be corporal, full, before the year's out.'

'Bound to be, at this time of year,' said Somervile without looking up from his soup.

Hervey smiled disconcertedly. 'There are other ways, Somervile.'

Somervile continued to give all his ocular attention to his soup. 'Men putting bullets in their brains, you mean?'

'Eyre!'

Somervile at last looked up. Emma's scold was not to be ignored.

'What I meant,' said Hervey, not in the least perturbed, 'is that Serjeants leave or are promoted, making vacancies below. Nothing more.'

'I'm glad to hear it,' said Somervile, as if it were well known to be otherwise. 'And when do you suppose it will be the same for officers?'

'In essentials it is,' replied Hervey, sounding cautious.

'Humph! You and I know it's a case of money and little more. How much would a majority cost you?'

Hervey looked rueful. 'Another thousand at least. If we were posted home probably twice as much.'

Somervile smiled. 'Then your toasts should be to a short war but a bloody one.'

'Eyre, I really think this a most unedifying line,' Emma protested.

But Hervey was now smiling. 'No, Emma: that was the toast in the Peninsula. Grim, perhaps, but that is the soldier's way with his humour.' He turned back to Somervile. 'We shouldn't forget the brevet. They're a good deal easier to come by here than in England. There were a fair number in Rangoon, as I recall.'

'What is a brevet?' asked Emma.

'Promotion in the army as a whole, but not in the regiment as such. It's all very well if you want a life on the staff.'

The khitmagars began clearing away the soup, breaking the line of conversation for the moment.

'But how are things otherwise, Matthew?' asked Emma, as the khansamah poured a little claret for her husband to taste. 'We have so missed our visits to the regiment. The officers are well?'

Somervile nodded; a good vintage, predating even Bonaparte.

Hervey inclined his head, as if to say the reply would not be straightforward. 'For the most part I suppose things are pretty good.'

'Oh? No more than "pretty good"? That sounds ill to me.' Emma knew him better than he sometimes remembered.

Hervey braced himself. 'To tell the truth, I fear we shall have another to-do. Hugh Rose . . .'

'Yes?'

'Rose has been dallying with the riding master's wife, and I fear Joynson must have him quit the place.'

Emma raised her eyebrows. 'That is sad, for all. His company is always much sought after.'

'If I were Joynson I'd be looking for some way to keep him,' her husband declared. 'Rose is a good officer from what I see.'

'Indeed he is,' said Hervey, helping himself to a fair portion of beef from the khitmagar's salver.

'And I'll warrant he'd be the hero of any battle. But you know very well what is the principle that Joynson has to abide by.'

Somervile had drained his glass even before the beef came to him, and he now heaped double rations onto his plate. 'Ay, I know well enough. But I'm also of a mind that Joynson's going to need good men about him, and sooner than he supposes.'

Next morning, after exercise, Hervey was called to regimental headquarters. There he found the major in even lower spirits than before. The Barrow affair had been one thing, but Rose and the riding master - and, for that matter the succession of RSMs - was quite another. Whereas with Barrow the course of action was clear (and he trusted he had dealt deftly with it), his other trials required much thought before action. And much thought in these matters lowered the spirits.

'But you declared that Rose would have to leave when last we spoke,' said Hervey, shaking his head. He had no special wish to see Rose go; he shared Somervile's pragmatic view that if the war clouds had actually been gathering something could be done. But manifestly this was not the case.

'Circumstances have changed, Hervey. I'm not sure that I wish to have the captains' ranks so thinned. It will be deuced unsettling.' Joynson took off his spectacles and pulled the silk square from his sleeve.

'Yes, I can see that. But
—'