'He commanded the cream of the British infantry,' Jack said. 'I have only the lowly 113th.'
Jane frowned. 'Your men depend on you. They deserve better than to be insulted.'
'It wasn't an insult,' Jack said. 'The 113th are not considered among the army's best regiments, although the men performed well in the Crimea.'
'That's a bit better.' Jane's frown dissipated. 'When people are loyal to you, Jack Windrush, you should respect their loyalty and repay it double.'
Jack opened his mouth to protest and quickly closed it again. There was nothing he could say.
'Now, tell me about your girl. The one you denied a few moments ago.' Jane was smiling again.
'I had a girl,' Jack said and suddenly found himself telling the whole story, from his friendship with Helen in the Crimea to the growing romance and then how he lost her to William, his half-brother who got his house and lands as well as his commission in the Royal Malverns.
Jane listened without a word. Only when Jack had finished did she speak. 'Do you still have the letter she sent?'
'Yes,' Jack produced it from inside his jacket. Crumpled and sweat-stained as it was, he handed it over.
'May I?' Jane asked.
'Yes of course.'
She opened it and read the contents. 'I see. Do you understand you are a very fortunate young man?'
'Fortunate?' Jack stared at her. 'How am I fortunate?'
'You have friends who care for you, men who respect you and you have escaped a woman who obviously cares more about material things she does for you.' Jane folded the letter and handed it back. 'Why are you keeping this?'
Jack opened it again, running his gaze across Helen's handwriting. 'I don't know. It's a reminder.'
'Yes. It's a reminder of a girl who betrayed you. It must hurt every time you read her words. Do you like revisiting hurts?'
Jack looked at Helen's letter again, unsure how to react.
'The best thing you can do, Jack Baird Windrush, is to destroy this nonsense and find a decent girl who will return your loyalty.' Abruptly standing up, Jane walked away, speaking over her shoulder. 'And that's my last word on the subject of Helen Maxwell!'
Jack sat for a long time, holding Helen's letter in his hand. He did not notice Mary coming out of the temple ruins until she was at his side. 'Jane can be very direct sometimes,' she said. 'She means well.'
'I take it you have you been listening?'
'Yes, I have,' Mary admitted freely. She sat near him. 'I have not thanked you for saving our lives.'
Jack shrugged. 'Don't be silly,' he said. 'There is no reason for thanks.'
'I won't forget,' Mary watched Jack fold the letter and put it in his breast pocket. She sat beside him as he stared at nothing, and when he stood up, she watched him walk away.
Chapter Five
Jack looked around at the circle of officers. After three days in the temple, they still looked worse for wear, with wary eyes and mouths compressed into tight lines.
'Well, Sergeant? What did you find?'
'Pandies, sir,' O'Neill reported. 'I took out a patrol like you said and scouted the area. It's thick with pandies.'
'How many? What type?'
O'Neill took out a small notebook. 'There was so many I had to get it written down, sir. That fellow, Parker, he's a scholar and he did the writing for me.' He scanned the page. 'We headed west first, sir and saw a troop of sowars in the open ground. They were laughing and carrying on, sir as if they hadn't got a care in the world. Certainly, they were not looking as if they expected us to return and sort them out.'
'Their time will come,' Jack said. 'Depend on it, O'Neill, Britain won't allow a few Mutineers take our India from us.'
'No, sir. So with the sowars all over the open ground, we headed north, sir. There were a load of sepoys, sir, camped in the forest. They've taken over a couple of the villages and are all spread out between them and over the paths and road as well.'
'How many and what regiments, O'Neill?'
'About three hundred, sir and I saw at least three different units there. They were all Bengal Native Infantry, sir; 44th and 17th, and some of the 37th.'
'So they are to the west and the north of us.'
'Yes, sir, and south as well, sir.'
'How many did you see in the south?' Jack was taking mental notes.
O'Neill screwed up his face. 'Not sure, sir. We stayed within the forest and looked out on them. I would not like to guess at the numbers.'
Jack grunted. 'Ten? Fifty? A thousand?'
'More than fifty, sir. Maybe a hundred or so.' O'Neill sounded apologetic. 'Then we looked east, and the lads from Gondabad are still around, or some of them anyway.'
'Thank you, O'Neill.' Jack dismissed him. 'So there we are gentlemen. The Mutineers surround us. I will welcome any suggestions and then decide what is best to do.'
'We were going to Cawnpore, sir,' Elliot said. 'I still think we should continue. We did plenty of night movement in the Crimea; march in the dark, rest in the day and destroy any pandies that get in our way.'
'Thank you, Elliot. Anybody else?'
'I think we sit tight, sir,' Kent said. 'We are safe here; the Mutineers don't seem to want to come to this temple. Maybe it's sacred to them. We can wait until they've gone and then we can move away.'
'We're British soldiers, damn it,' Prentice said. 'Form the men up and march through the blasted pandies. Shoot any we meet and get through to Cawnpore, join the army there and come back to show what happens to Mutineers.'
'Bravo!' Fairgreave said. 'Hang every Mutineer we come across, and every black bastard we meet. If they are not for us, then they're the enemy. I would not trust a single one of them. Hang them all.'
Elliot raised his eyebrows. 'That's some hanging spree,' he said. 'Even Judge Jeffreys left some people alive after the Bloody Assizes.'
'It's what they deserve,' Fairgreave said, shrugging.
'There will be no reprisals against the innocent,' Jack said. 'Not by any man under my command.'
'That sort of weakness created this mess,' Fairgreave said. 'We won this land by the sword, and we should rule it by the sword. Teach the pandies they can't rebel against Englishmen, by God.'
'Enough!' Jack felt his anger rising. 'I said there would be no reprisals against the innocent. Do you have anything constructive to say?'
'I think we do as Lieutenant Prentice suggests. March for Cawnpore and destroy any Mutineer we come across. And any who sympathise with them.' Fairgreave glanced at Jack. 'Leaving the innocent well alone, sir.'
Jack took a deep breath. He could understand the desire for revenge and the anger that caused his men to wish vengeance on anybody who was involved with or who could sympathise with the rebellion. There was also the fearful consciousness that in India the British were vastly outnumbered by the indigenous peoples, who may have hidden secret knowledge of the attack. Jack thought of the urbane, hidden face of Sarvur Khan and felt an immediate desire to kill and destroy. Oh, yes, he could understand the desire for revenge; he shared it in the fullest possible measure.
'Get some sleep if you can.' Jack decided. 'We are heading for Cawnpore.'
They left in the stifling heat of the night, one hundred and ten men of the 113th, with Jane and Mary walking in the middle of the column and Jack at the head. The men had their tunics undone and had blackened any part of their equipment capable of reflecting the light and dyed their white summer uniforms with mud to make them less conspicuous. All wore handkerchiefs or some other square of cloth tucked into the back of their shakos to protect their necks from the sun.
'They look a mess,' Prentice disapproved. 'They don't look like British soldiers at all.'
'They certainly don't look like Hyde Park soldiers,' Jack agreed. 'However, they look very like the men who fought at Inkerman.'
'We must assert our moral superiority over the natives,' Fairbairn advised, with all the assurance of his twenty years. 'And the best way is always to always smar
t.'
'Elliot; take the rearguard. Prentice, take the left flank; Kent the right, Fairbairn, you liaise between us all.' Jack watched his men march. They looked tired as they stumbled past him in the dark, but they also looked determined.
The forest waited, crisscrossed with paths, dark with menace and mystery. Few British soldiers felt at home in these close confines, and only those with long experience of India or Burma were not apprehensive of the strange sounds and sensations.
'I should be a corporal now,' Thorpe said, 'since I won the Victorious Cross.'
'It's not the Victorious Cross,' Coleman sounded patient. 'It's Victoria's Cross, named after the queen, see? It's to show everyone that Queen Victoria's cross with you and you aren't to be trusted.'
'What the Queen cross with me for?' Thorpe asked. 'I haven't done nothing.'
'Exactly,' Coleman said. 'You haven't done nothing except visit half the whore houses in India and spread the pox around.'
'I haven't got the pox!' Thorpe sounded indignant. I checked! Anyway, how would the Queen know what I've been doing?'
Coleman nudged Parker. 'The Queen knows everything. That's why she's the Queen.'
Jack raised his voice slightly. 'Keep the noise down, lads; the enemy could be listening. 'And don't heed Coleman, Thorpe. Your Victoria Cross is to prove you're a brave soldier.'
Taking the lead, Jack moved slowly, very aware the enemy could be watching him from only a yard away, secure in the cover of the trees. He remembered this jungle-creeping from his time in Burma and thanked God there were veterans such as O'Neill and Coleman with him. They may be troublesome in times of peace but when the trumpets called such men proved themselves a hundred times over.
Moving from cover to cover, Number Two Company tried to avoid the villages scattered across the land. They moved in silence and refrained from smoking near villages in case the whiff of tobacco gave them away. They watched for any sign of Mutineers, moved by night and camped in daylight. 'Triple sentries,' Jack ordered, 'and every man keep his rifle to hand and have it loaded.'
'Is that wise, sir?' Kent asked. 'Some of the men may be a little irresponsible.'
'It may save their lives, and ours,' Jack said. 'You ladies,' he pointed to Jane and Mary. 'Keep well within our lines and never stray beyond.'
'We have to leave sometimes,' Jane said.
'In God's name; don't you understand a simple order?' Jack realised the expedition was straining his nerves. 'I am sorry Mrs Niven. For what reason would you wish to leave the safety of my men?'
'Nature may demand it,' Jane said, 'and women like some privacy in such matters.'
'Oh, of course.' Jack said. 'I will give you a steady married man to act as permanent escort,' he said. 'He'll look the other way.'
'Thank you,' Jane rewarded Jack with a sweet smile.
'Blasted women,' Jack gave the necessary order. 'And make sure to look after them as if they were your mother and sister.'
'Yes, sir,' Riley said. 'They'll be safe as the Bank of England, sir.'
Jack grunted. 'With you around, Riley, the Bank of England would be in great jeopardy.'
It was Whitelam who heard them first. With his senses tuned to listening for gamekeepers in the Lincolnshire Wolds, he knew something was different even before the veterans of Burma and Crimea.
'Somebody's coming, sir.' he said.
'I can't hear anything,' Jack lifted his head. 'Are you sure?'
'I'm sure sir. I can feel it on the ground.'
'Right, Whitelam.' Jack lifted a hand to halt the company. 'O'Neill; take Coleman, Thorpe, Whitelam and Logan, see what's happening. The rest of us, keep still and keep down.' They slid into a copse as O'Neill led his picket along one of the narrow paths which formed a network across the entire Indian sub-continent.
'Are you all right, ladies?' Jack kept his voice low.
'We're all right,' Jane spoke for both of them. 'Mr Riley is looking after us.'
'Keep still unless I order otherwise.' Jack loosened the revolver in his holster.
'Sir,' O'Neill returned quicker than Jack had expected. 'Pandies sir. They're right around us.'
Jack swore softly. 'How many?'
'Hundreds, sir, maybe thousands.'
'Jesus,' Jack said quietly. 'Show me, O'Neill.'
They moved forward slowly, step by step through the night with the sound of the river in the distance and the growing murmur of the Mutineers. Now even he could feel the ground trembling with the tramp of marching feet and smell the unmistakable aroma of sepoys en-masse. The sudden blare of music settled any remaining doubts.
'They're in regimental formation,' O'Neill said. 'Look, sir; they are marching by unit, with the bands and even the Colours.' He stared at Jack. 'They may have mutinied, but they are still soldiers.'
'You're right, O'Neill. They've kept their cohesion, which makes them even more dangerous.' Jack watched them march past, British-trained and equipped soldiers, the most effective native fighting force in Asia, and all seemingly intent on destroying British rule in India.
'Where are they headed?' Jack pondered.
'Possibly Delhi.' The voice came from the gloom to his left and Fraser, still in native clothes, limped out from behind a tree. 'Or maybe Cawnpore.'
'What? Where did you spring from?' Jack put out a hand to prevent O'Neill shooting Fraser. 'It's all right, Sergeant. He's a friend.'
Fraser squatted in the shelter of a thorn bush. 'Have you heard the latest happenings?'
'We try to keep away from native villages,' Jack said. 'They don't know we're here.'
'Yes, they do,' Fraser told him. 'Everybody knows there is a company of Queen's infantry wandering through the country.' His smile was grim. 'The natives here know all and say little.'
Jack grunted. 'As long as the Mutineers don't find out. We're on our way to Cawnpore to join the garrison there.'
'You haven't heard then,' Fraser said. 'The sepoys mutinied there as well. Wheeler is under siege.'
Jack felt O'Neill stiffen at his side. 'Our wives and children are there.' Despite his slide of dismay he tried to keep his voice neutral.
'If they are,' Fraser said, 'they'll be inside Wheeler's entrenchment. Listen.' He lowered his voice as another company of sepoys marched past, their white trousers gleaming through the dark, white cross-belts immaculately maintained and every man holding his firearm in the approved manner.
'I'm listening,' Jack said.
'This is not isolated. The mutiny has spread up and down the Ganges. Delhi has fallen, and there was a bloody massacre at Meerut. The Mutineers control both.'
Jack nodded. He already knew some of this, but confirmation was always valuable. 'Continue please, Fraser.'
Watching the Mutineers march past, Fraser leant against the bole of a tree and chewed a betel nut. 'There is a small British force marching to try and retake Delhi from the rebels; I don't know how many. There were more outbreaks: the 25th Bengal Native Infantry rioted in Calcutta; the 55th mutinied at Murdan; the 9th mutinied at Allygurh, the 15th and 30th at Nuseerabad.' Fraser shrugged. 'Things are bleak for John Company.'
'Holy Mary,' O'Neill blasphemed and crossed himself. 'The whole Company army is up in arms.'
'Not only them,' Fraser said. 'Some of the native princes are looking unstable as well. The Oude Irregulars have mutinied too, and the Rani of Jhansi is rumoured to be on the rebels' side.'
Jack tried to focus on what immediately concerned him. 'You say Cawnpore is under siege?'
'Yes, sir,' Fraser said.
'We were heading to Cawnpore,' Jack said. 'No point now. Where is the nearest British force?'
'General Wilson is gathering men to retake Delhi, somewhere, and Colonel Neil and General Havelock are meeting at Allahabad, 120 miles from Cawnpore along the Ganges. I am not sure, but I think Neil hopes to relieve Wheeler in Cawnpore.'
Jack nodded. 'Thank you, Fraser.'
'The rebels are trying to restore the Moghul Empire with Bahadur Shah Zafar as the
ir leader.' Fraser said. 'He's an ancient, white- bearded old creature, so he hardly inspires confidence. More importantly, a man called Nana Sahib leads the rebels at Cawnpore and another fellow who seems to be connecting the different rebel groups.'
'Who is that?' Jack already guessed the answer.
'I don't know much about him except he's called Sarvur Khan.'
Jack felt the chill creep through him. 'We know the name.'
'He's a bad one,' Fraser said. 'Try to keep out of his way.'
'No,' Jack shook his head very slowly. 'I will not. If I don't find Sarvur Khan in the course of my duty, then I will scour India for him once this war is over.'
'Jack,' Jane had been listening. 'What would you do if you find him?'
'Kill him.' Jack said. He did not mention his nightmare.
'Please, Jack.' Jane put a hand on his arm. 'Don't let these terrible events turn you into a killer.'
'I'm a soldier,' Jack said. 'It's my duty to kill.'
'It's not your duty to hunt down men simply to kill them.' Jane patted him gently.
'There is evilness in that man.' Jack could not explain more. He only knew that some skein of fate bound him to Sarvur Khan.
'Captain Windrush,' Fraser's cracked voice interrupted the conversation. 'Remember that Colonel Neill and General Havelock are meeting at Allahabad.' He withdrew into the trees, leaving Jack with even more concerns.
'We'll tell the men the news,' Jack said. He knew it was customary only to inform the officers. The other ranks were expected to obey without question or information. After two campaigns he was also aware that his men responded better when they knew what was happening and why they were marching or fighting.
'Wheeler's a good officer.' Jack addressed the assembled ranks of Number Two Company. 'He'll look after our people until we arrive.'
Riley looked concerned. 'Did you hear if all the women and children got safely into Cawnpore?'
'Sorry, Riley, I did not learn much. I know General Wheeler is holding out in the city and there is a force gathering at Allahabad to relieve him.'
'Charlotte will be all right,' Logan lifted his chin. 'If anybody can survive, Charlotte can, Riley. Don't you fret.' He faced Jack squarely. 'Isn't that right, sir?'
Windrush: Cry Havelock (Jack Windrush Book 4) Page 9
