Soldier Spy

by Griff Hosker

  Chapter 11

  I awoke well before dawn and sat bolt upright. Something had disturbed me. I shook Sergeant Seymour. “Something woke me. I’ll take a quick look around. If I shout then get the lads up.”

  “I’ll get them up anyway. It can’t be long off dawn.”

  “Right.”

  I put on my tunic and drew my sword and a pistol. I went to the southern gate first and the Neapolitan there, who I was certain had been dozing, said he had seen nothing.

  “Keep your eyes peeled.”

  When I reached the northern gate Sergeant Marciano was there. “Anything wrong Benito?”

  “One of the men thinks he heard hooves along the coast road.”

  “Get the men and the Queen up. We’ll make an early start. I’ll go and check the town gate.”

  I went to the stables and saddled Badger. Sergeant Seymour joined me. “Get the men fed and the horses saddled. I am going to check the main gate.”

  I quickly galloped the couple of hundred yards to the main gate. The Mayor was there along with ten or so of his militia.

  “What is it?”

  “One of my men thought he heard horses. He might be wrong.”

  “I think he is right. Call out your guard. I will take the Queen away from you but I need you to hold them for a couple of hours. Can you do that?”

  I saw the doubt on his face and, when I glanced at the ancient muskets his men held, I had to agree with him. But his backbone straightened. “We will do our best.”

  “Good man. Anything will help. I’ll just go and fetch my men but I will be back.”

  By the time I reached the house everyone was up. “Your Majesty, the French are here. As soon as you have eaten Sergeant Marciano will take you out of the south gate. My men and I will be right behind you.”

  “We won’t let you down,” she paused, “Robbie.”

  It felt good to hear my name spoken so softly. “Joe, get the lads. We eat on the hoof.”

  He handed me a hunk of bread wrapped around some ham and cheese. “Here sir. Eat now.”

  By the time we reached the gate again there were thirty militia lining the ancient worn walls. “Right lads, spread yourselves out. We are going to make the French think that there is a regiment here. When I say ‘Fire’ keep firing until I say otherwise.”

  We listened as dawn slowly broke. Soon we heard the unmistakeable tramp of feet and hooves on the road. They had infantry with them. I turned to the Mayor. “Tell your men to wait for my command before firing. It will be better.”

  It was a company of Light Infantry who accompanied the Chasseurs. As soon as they saw the walls and the men on them they halted. “Everyone get down.”

  The walls were ancient but they were almost two feet thick in places. The company of Light Infantry deployed into line and fired. Their officers were good for they gave us three volleys in case we were foolish enough to raise our heads. The walls protected us. I risked a glance over the parapet and saw that they were deploying into a column ten men wide and the Chasseurs were readying to charge.

  “Everyone up.” The line of Neapolitans joined my men. I saw some of the muskets wavering. They might not hit anything but I wanted the noise and the smoke of as many guns as we could. Our carbines had a maximum effective range of a hundred yards and at eighty I shouted, “Fire!”

  I emptied my carbine and all four pistols. I reloaded my carbine three times and fired. It was impossible to see much because of the smoke.

  “Cease Fire!”

  The Neapolitans began to cheer as though they had won the war. “Sergeant Seymour, get the men mounted.”

  As the smoke drifted away I saw the huddle of a dozen or so blue bodies which showed where we had struck them. One or two were crawling back along the road. The rest had retired a suitable distance. They would be cautious now and we had bought some time.

  “Thank you Mayor, I shall tell the Queen of your bravery. Do not waste their lives. An hour will be sufficient.”

  He nodded, “It has done the men good to chase the French away,” his tired old eyes told me that he knew the truth, “even if it is only briefly.”

  Leaving the militia to maintain some sort of front we galloped towards the southern road. The French would regroup and they would try to pick off some of the men of the town. They might, hopefully, even wait for some artillery. Whatever the outcome I had bought us an hour. We now had to use it.

  We spurred our horses on and caught up with the Neapolitans. They had learned their lesson and did not hang around. The women no longer moaned and even Alberto seemed a better rider after two days in the saddle. We needed no words; we just rode on through the February morning. We had all been fed as had the horses. I made sure that we stopped every couple of horses. Each time we did so I placed two of my men a mile or so back to give advance warning of any pursuit. I assumed that it would take an hour to make the town surrender and then they would search for signs of the Queen. That might take another hour and then they would pursue us. They must have travelled over night and would be tired. We would make much better time. The rests I allowed the horses and riders would be beneficial in the long run. We had to keep going and avoid any unnecessary delay.

  After half a day of travel we suddenly dropped from the high mountains and narrow passes on to a wide valley. The road was the Via Adua and we made good time. The bad news was that there few settlements of any description. As dusk approached I sent two of Sergeant Marciano’s men to find anything; a barn or a farmhouse, it didn’t matter which.

  We were in luck. They found a farmhouse just off the main road. We headed up the track. The owner came out with an old blunderbuss. I do not know what he thought he would do against twenty armed soldiers but he ordered us from his property.

  The Queen stepped down from her horse, although in her trousers and with her hair beneath a hat it was hard to recognise her regal qualities.

  “I am Queen Maria Carolina of Naples and we are fleeing the French. We seek shelter and supplies.”

  I thought that would have sealed the deal but it did not. He shrugged, “When the bandits stole my goats where was the King then? It is as with many things. You only talk to us when you are in trouble. If the French are coming then we will need all the food for ourselves.”

  I saw Sergeant Marciano reaching for his pistol and I restrained him. I nudged my horse forward. “In that case could we buy some accommodation for the night?” I pointed at the barn built into the hillside, “And some food perhaps?”

  I thought he was going to refuse but I took out a gold Louis and flipped it into the air. There was enough light from inside the house to make the spinning coin sparkle as did the farmer’s eyes. He reached to grab the falling coin but I was quicker.

  “Now you greedy little farmer, this buys us accommodation, firewood and food. You have one chance to accept. I have twenty men behind me who are angry enough to kill you and all your family, take your food and burn your hovel to the ground.” I smiled, “So what will it be?”

  He nodded and held out his hand for the coin, “You are welcome sir. Whatever I can do to help her majesty I shall do.”

  As we led our horses to the barn, Sergeant Marciano grumbled, “Miserable little swine. You should have let me kill him sir rather than waste your gold.”

  “The Royal Family will need as much support as they can get, Benito. Word would have spread had we killed them. This way the word will spread down the valley that we have money and we will be welcomed.”

  The Queen nodded as she passed me, “I can see why they sent you on this mission Captain. You are a thinker. I will repay the gold when we reach Sicily.”

  I nodded, “If not it does not matter.”

  “You are rich then?”

  “I have money but gold does not interest me.”

  “And neither does killing. You are an enigma, Captain Matthews, but you have enlivened our journey somewhat.”

  The Neapolitans brooded and fumed all night about the
ir countryman. I tried to explain it to them. “I would imagine, Benito, that this is a quiet part of the world. I would even predict that none of you have ever been here before. To the farmer the Kingdom of Naples means nothing. If Napoleon Bonaparte conquers this land it will make little difference to him. You are from Naples where the King and Queen are ever present. You have a link to them. This farmer does not even know who they are.”

  The Queen had been listening, “You are right, Robbie, we should have left the palace more. If we are to defend against invaders we need the whole country behind us.”

  I nodded my agreement to that sentiment, “For me I would like to see the army a little closer. They obviously did not come this way so where are they?”

  For the first time since I had met her, the Queen lost her air of confidence. “I do not know. The King put a great deal of faith in the young Frenchman. He is passionate and he has fought the French Army.”

  “True. But I would prefer to put my faith in a man who had fought the French Army, and won.”

  Those words hung in the air for the rest of the evening and I began to regret saying them. The truth had to be told. Both my mother and father had taught me that. My mother had a saying, ‘Speak the truth and shame the devil.’ It was a good axiom to live by. I could see the Queen and Benito pondering my words.

  The farmer must have realised the value of the coin I had given him for he was effusive the next morning. He even gave us some homemade sausage and a ham to take. It still did not endear him to the Guards but the Queen oozed sweetness. As we headed towards Cosenza I reflected that the French would have taken the ham and the sausage but at least the farmer would be able to bury the coin until they had left.

  Our party of courtiers were becoming hardened to a life in the saddle and even Alberto stopped complaining. We rode faster. When we used up our supplies we changed horses so that the burden was borne by them all. We reached the walled city of Cosenza at dusk. The gates were closed but the sight of the Royal Guards and the presence of the Queen ensured that they were opened. Here there was a small garrison under the command of a lieutenant. He was keen to show his willingness to serve the Queen. Sergeant Marciano and I found it more than a little amusing. He reminded me of many of the young British officers whose father’s had purchased a commission. I dreaded to think what the French would make of him. He told us that the Neapolitan Army had passed through and were somewhere south of us.

  We slept and ate well. We were protected by the thick walls of the town and a garrison, however small. The Neapolitan Guards actually achieved a full night’s sleep. Before we left, the next morning, we were able to replenish our ammunition. The lieutenant was keen to escort the Queen but she told him he would be doing his country a greater service by defending Cosenza. The look on his face showed that he was looking forward to the prospect.

  As we headed down the last stretch towards Reggio Sergeant Marciano asked me about the wars in which I had fought. I had to be very careful to restrict my descriptions to the battles fought for the British. I had fought Italians before.

  I told him of the Pomeranian campaign and the rescue of the prisoners from the Pas de Calais. He nodded as I spoke of the charges, ambushes, retreats and battles. “That is why we need your army. I have fought in one small battle. I did not even get to draw my sword or fire my weapon. I am a fraud.”

  “No, my friend, you will get your chance. Besides your task is to protect the Queen is it not? You will not have to fight in battles.” He had not thought of that and I saw him ruminating for the next few hours.

  Perhaps complacency had set in or we thought that we had out run danger but, whatever the cause it was nearly our ruin. Not long after Pizzo, the road twisted and turned down a narrow and steep sided valley. We were well spread out and there were two of Marciano’s men at the fore with the women behind. Suddenly there was a fusillade of shots from the hillside. One of the soldiers and a courtier were pitched from their saddles. Muskets began to pop all along the valley. I saw the puffs of smoke which indicated a marksman. There were many of them.

  “Dismount and take cover.” There were enough rocks to find shelter and I was certain that the attackers would avoid hitting the horses. They were too valuable to kill. I drew my carbine and dropped my reins. Badger would not move until I told him to.

  Once behind a rock I took a bead on some smoke. The attacker made the mistake of trying to reload while still crouched. I saw the top of his head appear and then his arm. It was only sixty yards away and I blew the top of his head off. I could see that my men were hitting their targets but the Neapolitans were not. We had to get closer. The Neapolitans did not have carbines and they would be wasting powder if they just used their pistols.

  “Sergeant Marciano, leave four men to guard the women, the rest follow me. We are going up to get them.” He shouted his orders and I said, “Sergeant Seymour, we will lead this attack. Trooper Rae, watch our backs in case the ones on the other side try anything.”

  “Sir!”

  “Now!”

  I had reloaded while talking and we sprinted from cover. Multiple moving targets are hard to hit and we were helped by three muskets all firing at one of the Guards. Even though musket balls buzzed above our heads the smoke from their own guns hid us from them. The balls flew ever higher. Suddenly I saw a man to my left. I swivelled my carbine and fired from the hip. He was two yards away and he was cut in two. I dropped my carbine and drew my sword and a pistol. A huge bandit leapt at me with an enormous axe in his hand. I fired my pistol and his face disappeared.

  “Come on lads, these are bandits!” I repeated it in Italian and I heard Sergeant Marciano roar at these evil men who had threatened his queen. Another bandit came at me swinging his musket like a club. He was above me and it was a mistake. I ducked as I lunged forward and stuck my sword right through his body. I heard muskets from behind us.

  “Back to the horses lads, they are attacking Rae.”

  I turned and ran down the slope. I was lucky not to slip. If I had then I would have broken a leg for certain. I saw that two of the Neapolitans left to guard the Queen had been cut down whilst the other two were fighting desperately to save their own lives. The Queen and her women were gathered with Alberto before them. Even as I watched the Queen fired a pistol and a bandit fell dead.

  Trooper Rae was trying to fight three men. I drew my second pistol and shot one of them. The second turned to face me. He held a cutlass in his hand. It is a savage and clumsy weapon; I twisted the tip of my blade and then jabbed forward. My sword entered his throat. The blood blossomed and bloomed like petals in the wind. Rae finished off his opponent. I saw that he was wounded. “How is it?”

  “A scratch sir. Get after the Queen, sir.”

  As the four of us joined Sergeant Marciano to hurry to the Queen’s side the last of the bandits fled. My men continued to shoot at them with their carbines and three more fell. We had won but the Neapolitans had lost four men and two of the women had died. There were some with minor wounds but the Queen, thankfully, was not among them.

  None of the bandits lived long enough to talk. The Neapolitans took their revenge on the wounded ones. I suspect they treated them better than they would have had the women not been there. It was a brutal end to a savage and unexpected encounter. We had suffered more damage from the Queen’s countrymen than her enemies. It was ironical.

  “I am afraid we will have to bury the dead quickly your majesty. They may return.”

  She nodded, “Leave the scum for the carrion.” I saw a hard side to the Queen. She could be ruthless when she chose and she had been coolness personified when she had shot the bandit.

  We moved fast with fewer people to guard and I put two of my men at the front and the rear. We might have spotted the ambush had I employed the same tactic before. Trooper Rae had just a scratch along his leg. It bandaged well and the bleeding stopped. No one was more relieved that I was to see the lights of Reggio and the Straits of Messina hove
into view. We had made it. I was not certain how but we had been extremely lucky.

  The walls of Reggio were manned and the Guards there took it upon themselves to escort us. We descended through the streets and I saw the port. There were ships in Reggio harbour. There were even Royal Navy vessels. The Queen and her Guards were taken by the Guards we met to the Governor’s palace. They were beside themselves with worry. I was eager to return to my troop but I felt we had to say goodbye.

  The Queen handed me the reins of Sergeant Sharp’s horse, “You were right, he was the best choice of a horse. And now we will give you our thanks, Ladies, Alberto.” The Queen and her ladies all stood before us and curtsied. Alberto gave a small formal bow.

  “Captain Matthews, you and your men have done a great service to the Kingdom of Naples and Sicily. We will never forget it. Now is neither the time nor the place but we will reward all of you.” The she walked up to me and kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you, Robbie,” she whispered in my ear. They all departed inside, the Governor giving us a smile and a nod of thanks.

  Sergeant Marciano and the remains of his Guard all stood to attention and saluted us. I returned the compliment. He came over and shook my hand. It was a firm handshake. “I have learned much from you and I have seen a little of real war. All of us will be better soldiers in the future.”

  “And we were honoured to serve with you. I dare say we will run into each other again. Stay safe Benito. The Queen needs you.”

  We rode to the harbour. “Well sir, that was exciting. I thought we were done for a couple of times.”

  “You know what they say, Sergeant Seymour, it is always darkest before the dawn. In my experience when you have nothing left to lose decisions are somehow easier.”

  When we reached the harbour there were three Royal Navy vessels in the bay. A Midshipman and a shore party stood at the top of the steps. He snapped to attention. He took in our dirty, blood stained uniforms and our horses which looked the worse for wear. The bosun with him suddenly whispered in his ear. His eyes widened, “Sir, are you the one who rescued the Queen? I mean is she rescued? Did you manage it?” I saw the bosun give a disgusted shake of the head.