Rules of War

by Iain Gale

  Again, fighting through the pain, Steel launched another attack and threw himself on Stringer as the words left his mouth. He drew back his own head and with a swift movement smashed it hard against the other man’s forehead sending Stringer to his knees with a groan. Steel too tasted blood. Steadying himself, his hand went to his sword hilt. Stringer looked up and stared at Trouin with pleading eyes and in that instant Steel knew he had lost. Trouin signalled to the two guards and Steel found his arms pinned behind his back.

  ‘Enough. I know when Sergeant Stringer is telling the truth. He’s lied to me often enough, and paid for it often enough to know not to do it again. Besides, why should he lie to me about a spy? And why didn’t you mention this man before, Captain?’ He motioned across to the terrified Brouwer.

  Stringer rose shakily. He wiped away the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and walked unsteadily across to Steel, pushing his face unpleasantly close until Steel could smell his breath.

  ‘This, sir, is Captain Jack Steel of her Britannic Majesty’s army.’ The words came slowly, through Stringer’s haze of pain. ‘He’sanofficer in Farquharson’s Regiment of Foot. My old regiment, before I saw the light. He commands the Grenadier company. Or he did when I knew him in Spain last year. Nasty bit of work, he is Captain Troo-in. Did for my old major. Remember me telling you about him? Poor bugger – that business in Bavaria. Tried to trick me an’ all. Tried to ’ave me hung he did an’ then he caught me again, in Spain. They were going to do for me there as well. Course, he couldn’t hold me, sir. None of them could, not Nathaniel Stringer. Too slippery I am, see. Ain’t I, Mister Steel, sir? And I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me, sir. Didn’t you, now, sir?’ Stringer paused, looked at Steel and smiled. He allowed the captured officer to wait for a few moments in a silence which became excruciating with tension.

  Trouin looked from one man to the other. ‘Clearly, you’ve no love for this man, Sergeant.’

  Stringer spat again, this time taking care to ensure that the phlegm struck home on Steel’s foot and slithered from his boot to the carpet. ‘To tell you the truth, sir, I’ll not be happy till he’s in the grave. My soul shall not rest easy as I live and breathe. And nor will that of my dear old major. Man’s a traitor, sir. Worst sort.’

  Steel sensed that one of the pirates holding him, the one to his right, either because of the drink or the fact that he was leering at Lady Henrietta, had momentarily slackened his grip. He had to move quickly. Pushing the guard away with his left hand and all the force he could muster, he brought his right across to his belt and, drawing one of the two pistols, cocked it and took aim at the pirate to his left. He had thought to shoot Stringer, but the man had moved across and it was to cost him his life. Steel’s gun went off with a deafening crack in the little room and the pirate crumpled to the floor, a bullet through his forehead. Steel drew the other pistol and pulled on the hammer. It would not move. He applied more pressure and gradually felt it ease back until the gun was cocked. It was too late. He felt the point of a sword at his throat. Steel stiffened and looked up at Trouin.

  ‘I think that will be enough, Captain Thomson. Or should I say, Captain Steel. Bind him.’

  While the remaining guard held Steel’s arms painfully behind his back, Stringer wound his own belt tightly around his wrists. When it was done, Trouin lowered his sword and returned it to its scabbard. He looked at Steel and shook his head.

  ‘My dear Captain. I cannot tell you how much you have disappointed me. As Sergeant Stringer says, I was completely taken in. And I do not enjoy being made to look a fool.’ His words were aggressive, filled with venom.

  Steel attempted to regain what composure he could. ‘Sergeant Stringer, what an unexpected pleasure. Though I have to say it is all yours.’

  Trouin ignored his bravado: ‘And now, Captain. You present me with a problem. What are we to do with you and your friend?’

  He crossed the room and picked up a small box from the bureau. He opened the lid and a tune filled the room. A simple, childish air, a nursery rhyme whose innocent associations seemed to be mocked by the tense horror of Steel’s situation.

  ‘I have decided. Yes, I think that we shall take a short walk. I have a diverting little room below the tavern, down just a few stairs. Come, Captain Steel. Let me take you there – and your unfortunate friend. I’m sure that you will find it most entertaining. We’ll take the girl too. She most certainly must not be allowed to miss out on the evening’s entertainment.’

  The words, so lightly said, burned their potential meaning into Steel’s mind and he fought to conceal his terror. He could not imagine what sort of evening Trouin had in store. But he knew that the captain must be furious at having been taken in by his disguise. And he knew too that when such a man’s pride was hurt and in such a manner there would be no way for honour to be regained other than by pain and almost certainly death.

  TWELVE

  The room was square and windowless, a cold stone cellar, lit only by the light of the flaming, pitch-soaked torches which stood in iron brackets around the walls. It smelt of blood and human ordure. Steel noticed with apprehension that around the walls at intervals, chains with manacles had been fastened into the stones. It looked for all the world like the sort of medieval torture chamber he had heard about in boyhood history lessons. He shuddered. In one corner there even stood a brazier and in another a wooden table covered with what looked suspiciously like bloodstains. In another area lay a filthy divan on which four of the pirates, all of them drunk to various degrees, were taking turns with two half-naked serving-girls. They did not stop as Trouin entered, nor did he attempt to make them. There were other pirates in the room, most of them sitting in chairs or on stools. All these too seemed to Steel to be the worse for liquor. Those that could do so and remain steady, which was only a few, got to their feet and went to greet their captain. Trouin acknowledged them with a wave and was rewarded with a cheer; he turned to Steel.

  ‘You see. I do believe in rewarding my men when we have the opportunity. I know how to treat them well. Don’t I, boys?’

  Another faint cheer went up.

  ‘Now lads. Here’s a little sport for you. We’ve captured some spies.’ He signalled to Stringer who pushed Steel before him, further into the room. Another of the men entered with Marius Brouwer. The Belgian looked terrified. Behind them a third pirate followed with Lady Henrietta. Trouin turned to another of his men. ‘Strip this English gentleman to the waist and put him in those manacles. Do the same with the other one. You can leave the woman for me.’

  Steel spat: ‘You bastard. Leave her alone. And let this gentleman go, you have no quarrel with him. It’s me you want.’

  Trouin turned on him, smiling: ‘Oh, you’re quite wrong there, Mister Steel. I have very much a quarrel with this gentleman, for without his help you would not have been admitted into this town or have infiltrated our little band. He has much to answer for, more than you even. He is a traitor, Steel and for that I assure you he will pay. As for milady, she has done me no great wrong. But by the rules of piracy she belongs to me, to do with as I please. So, I would advise you, Mister Steel, to keep a civil tongue in your head. You will find that it makes for a much easier time with us. And there will be a moment as the evening wears on when you do wish that things were easier. I can assure you of that.’

  Trouin grabbed Lady Henrietta around the waist with a grip so tight that she felt almost suffocated and dragged her across the room.

  She tried to struggle. ‘Let me go! Get away from me!’

  ‘And you too, My Lady. You would do better not to resist. It will go so much easier for you. Who knows? You might even end up enjoying whatever lies in store.’

  ‘I order you to let me go. At once!’

  Trouin slapped her hard across the face. Just once, and she was silent. Then, pushing her roughly against the far wall, he thrust first one slim fair hand and then the other through the pair of manacles which hung from the wal
l and snapped them shut. He stepped back. ‘Yes. Very pretty, madame. Perhaps if …’

  Reaching forward he grabbed the material at the décolletage of her dress and pulled hard. It ripped and the bodice of the dress fell away, fully exposing her ample white breasts. Lady Henrietta, unable to cover her shame, gasped and stared hard at her assailant.

  Trouin laughed. ‘Yes. That is so much better. Don’t you all agree?’

  Stringer was beside him now. ‘Oh yes, Captain. I must say that’s very nice, sir. Lovely, ain’t she. Quite lovely, if I may say so.’

  Trouin moved across to Steel, whose waistcoat and shirt had now been removed. The pirate stared at his hard muscular torso and caught sight of two long scars, one which ran down his side, from shoulder to stomach, the other down his arm. The pirate moved a finger along each of them, feeling the puckered skin.

  ‘You look as if you may have seen some action, Captain? Am I right?’

  ‘More than you I dare say and in better company, Trouin. And in the service of my country.’

  Trouin tut-tutted and shook his head: ‘No, monsieur, there you do me an injustice. You see, I too fight in the service of my country. Of course, there is a little self-interest involved. And I am sure the same is true of you. But I am engaged by King Louis. I fact, as I think I have already mentioned, I am rather a favourite of His Majesty.’

  Steel smirked. ‘I find that hard to believe, monsieur. I had heard that you were an officer of France. But now I see that you are no better than a common thief.’

  Trouin bristled. ‘You will regret that comment, Mister Steel. And you are quite wrong. A thief I may be, as you say, but I am far from common. I have the most refined tastes, as you have already seen for yourself.’

  He crossed the room again to where Stringer was still ogling the half-naked form of Lady Henrietta. Trouin stood back and looked carefully at her as if she were a work of art. ‘Yes, I covet only the most beautiful objects.’

  Pushing the Englishman aside, Trouin extended his hand and, flexing the long fingers, ran it slowly down her exposed breast, lingering and teasing her form just as he had done with the thick gobbets of dried oil paint in the Rembrandt of the flayed ox. ‘I covet and enjoy only the very finest things, Mister Steel. D’you see?’

  Her face contorted with revulsion, Lady Henrietta tried in vain to pull away from him.

  Steel strained against the manacles which cut painfully into his wrists. ‘You bastard. Take your hands off her.’

  ‘Oh dear, Captain, another mistake. You have to learn that you must never, ever give me orders. But you are right; it would be a shame to spoil such perfect beauty, wouldn’t it? Particularly as I have not yet decided what to do with so fine a prize. Who d’you suppose will pay the most for her? Your people or some fat sultan? Or perhaps I shall keep her for myself. Or should I just give her to my men, for their pleasure? I am a generous man, you know.’ He reached out towards Lady Henrietta and again took hold of one of her breasts. With a firmer grip this time, making her gasp. She looked away. ‘So very irresistible. Yes. Later perhaps.’

  Trouin let her go and walked over to Steel who stared at him hard in the face. ‘Call yourself a man, Trouin? You’re no more than an animal.’

  Trouin froze. He shook his head. ‘And again. Will you never learn? I think that Mister Steel needs a lesson in good manners. Let’s teach him how to be a gentleman, shall we? Sergeant Stringer – perhaps you would take a particular pleasure?’

  Stringer snapped out of his titillated trance before the half-naked woman and gave Steel a smile. Then he clicked his fingers at two of the pirates and walked across to a hook on the wall where a cat-o’-nine-tails hung. Taking it down he walked over to where Steel was hanging, his arms straining uncomfortably against the chains which were high, even for a man of his height. Stringer brought the cat up level with Steel’s face and flicked it gently through the air, letting him see it. Gradually he began to whip it back and forth with more force until the knotted ends of the leather thongs began to make an obscene crack. The two pirates took hold of Steel and turned him round so that the manacles crossed over above his head, stretching his arms still more painfully in their sockets and he was staring at the stone wall with his bare back exposed to the room. Then each of the men grabbed hold of one of his legs and held it firm, pushing down on to the floor. Steel, unable to see behind him, guessed at what was coming.

  Stringer’s first stroke hit him like a hammer blow, smashing into his shoulderblade like a blunt object. The second, laid upon the same place with unerring precision, did likewise. Steel remembered that it had been Stringer who had schooled the drummer boys of the regiment in their task of administering punishment floggings. He gritted his teeth and took care not to bite or swallow his tongue. For unlike any official military flogging, he had not been supplied by Trouin with the customary piece of leather on which to bite. He had seen this punishment meted out many times in the British army – to the rank and file – and part of him had always been curious to discover how it felt. But this was not the time or the way in which he had thought he might make that discovery. The third stroke brought a different sensation of pain, more acute, as if someone had stuck a hot needle into his back. And that was how it continued. Within minutes Steel was lost in a rolling sea of pain. No one was bothering to count the strokes as they would have on a punishment parade, but in his mind he registered every one to a total of twenty. Then, to his surprise, it stopped.

  Somewhere from within his mist of pain Steel heard Stringer’s voice: ‘But Captain, sir. I was just getting into a rhythm.’

  Trouin was being merciful. The two men turned Steel round to face the captain. Stringer, downcast, was standing at Trouin’s side, cradling the whip on which Steel could see what he took for gobbets of his own flesh. He gagged with rising nausea.

  Trouin addressed him: ‘So, Mister Steel, how does it feel to be on the receiving end of that most barbaric of punishments, which nevertheless I am sure you have ordered for your men so many times. And for the most trivial of offences? Perhaps now you will have better manners. Not that you will ever have the chance, I think.’

  Steel said nothing. He could feel the blood and sweat mingling as they ran in rivulets down his back which throbbed with rhythmic pain. Looking down he saw that pools of blood had also collected around his feet. Trouin looked across to where Marius Brouwer was hanging from a similar set of manacles. He too had been stripped to the waist and his scrawny white form made a contrast to that of Steel. Trouin went over to him.

  ‘But you now. What about you? You are most certainly not a man of action. What on earth were you thinking of getting yourself involved in this business? You are an idiot. This is not the thing for schoolteachers to get mixed up in – not at all. They might get hurt.’

  On the last word, Trouin pushed against Brouwer and swiftly brought his knee hard up into contact with the man’s groin. Brouwer gave an agonized shriek and then a moan.

  ‘Silly little man.’ He turned back to Steel: ‘But Captain, do you not agree that he must learn that you cannot be a traitor and be allowed to get away with it. Spies and traitors must be punished. Isn’t that right, Captain? Boys?’ There was a cheer and yells of approval from the company around the room. ‘But we are not savages. We shall hold a proper trial. Every man is allowed a fair hearing. Now, who will defend this wretch?’

  Stringer stepped forward: ‘Begging the captain’s pardon, but may I be allowed that privilege, sir?’

  Trouin nodded: ‘So. We begin. The charge is that the accused, this man, did allow an enemy of the town and the people to enter Ostend with the express purpose of laying it to waste, murdering every one of its inhabitants, including the company of Captain René Duglay-Trouin and, most importantly, abducting that lady you see over there. How do you plead?’ He looked at Brouwer, who had gone ashen white and was trembling with fear.

  Stringer spoke for him: ‘He pleads guilty, m’lud. There is no other plea and in effect, Your
Honour, we have no defence.’

  ‘In that case I find the defendant guilty as charged of treason.’ The pirates cheered. Trouin stood at the head of the mock court and held up his hand. ‘Justice will be done. I have decided. This is a man who would betray France. Sentence will be passed. Justice must be seen to be done. There is only one sentence for such a crime – death.’

  Brouwer began to shake. Trouin continued: ‘And first, we must teach him not to betray us, not to talk of us ever again. Ajax, I think you know what to do.’

  Steel looked on as the huge negro advanced upon Brouwer. The Dutchman screamed. Ajax smiled at him and, while one great black hand held open Brouwer’s mouth, dislocating the jaw, the other reached deep inside and grasped hold of his tongue. And then pulled. Marius let out an unearthly shriek and it was done. Mercifully, Steel saw, Lady Henrietta had fainted.

  Ajax threw the bloody tongue on the stone floor. Trouin snapped his fingers and one of the pirates loosed his dogs who fell upon the organ, fighting over who should have the larger share. Marius was still screaming. But the noise was so weird and otherworldly that it seemed not to come from his mouth, but from somewhere deep down within. It felt to Steel, even in his own agony, as if the entire room was shouting.

  Trouin spoke: ‘So, then. You all know the punishment for spies. And now boys, I hand the wretch over to you, what there is left of him. You may exact our own justice, in our customary way. You need some target practice, do you not?’

  Steel had heard tales of pirate torture, but thankfully till now had never witnessed it. As he watched, some twenty of the crew who were not too drunk to stand gathered around Brouwer. One of them, a grinning Moor, took a few paces back and drew a small dagger from his belt. Taking care to aim, yet swaying on his feet, he drew back his arm and hurled the knife at Brouwer. It struck him on the arm, lodging deep in the flesh. The pirate cheered and punched his fist into the air. Immediately another, a dark-haired Spaniard, took his place, this time hurling a short tomahawk at Brouwer, which struck him on the left hand, severing two of his fingers. The Belgian screamed and stiffened with pain. Steel watched as Stringer stepped forward and drawing his pistol, cocked it. Steel looked away, heard the report and the scream and gazing back saw that the ball had passed through Brouwer’s right kneecap. Stringer grinned, looked Steel directly in the eyes and winked.