Drums of War cr-2

by Edward Marston

Amalia was shocked, Beatrix horrified and Janssen ashamed that he'd misjudged Daniel. Thrilled to have helped in the escape, Dopff held up his hands to show that they were free then undid the rope around his ankles. The first person Daniel released was Amalia, lifting her up to hug her. When the others were untied, he retrieved Gustave's pistol from the floor and tucked it into his belt.

  'We must go,' he said, ushering them into the coach. 'The Bishop of Beauvais will be waiting for his tapestry.'

  Though the cottage was largely derelict, the highwaymen had taken the trouble to make part of it habitable so that it could be used from time to time as a place to spend the night.

  Upstairs rooms had been allowed to decay but the parlour and kitchen had not. They'd repaired doors, made new shutters and supported the main beam with a stout timber upright. When the place had been swept clean and mattresses brought in, it was a useful hiding place. The two men sat either side of a table in the kitchen, drinking some of the wine they stored there. It had been a profitable day and they had much to celebrate. After a long discussion about its contents, Armand had penned a ransom demand in spidery handwriting.

  The leader of the little gang had then produced a pack of cards so that they could decide who'd first have the privilege of an hour naked on one of the mattresses with their lovely female captive. It added spice and incentive to the game. As the cards were dealt, they were in high spirits. Their capture of the travellers had been a stroke of good fortune. Money and pleasure had been dropped into their laps and there was promise of a huge ransom. Armand picked up his cards and smiled inwardly. With such a hand, he felt that he was bound to win. It was the other man who heard the noise.

  'What was that?' said the leader, straining his ears.

  'I heard nothing.'

  'It sounded like hoof beats.'

  'You must be mistaken,' said Armand, drooling over the cards he held. 'All I can hear is the sound of the wind.'

  'Let's go and see,' said the other, getting to his feet.

  'Play the game first. I want to win.'

  'That can wait, Armand. There was a definite noise.'

  Opening the rear door of the cottage, he went out into the rain and looked towards the open door of the barn. The coach was no longer there and their own horses had also disappeared.

  'Armand!' he cried. 'Come quickly!'

  He ran across to the barn and saw Gustave stretched out on the floor, his neck bruised and his head twisted at an unnatural angle. Armand soon arrived to stand over the dead body. The highwaymen were mystified. During their time in the cottage, they'd lost everything.

  'How could they possibly have done it?' wondered Armand.

  The leader pondered. 'It was the coachman,' he decided.

  They rode for miles before they felt it was safe to stop. Dopff had driven the coach, pulling along the horse tethered to it. Daniel had taken charge of the other horses stolen from the highwaymen, riding one and leading the other by the reins. Having spent all of his life in the army, he'd often been in situations where he'd had to kill or be killed. He never harboured regrets. The moment that Gustave had been strangled, Daniel had forgotten him but the death could not be so easily dismissed by the others. Beatrix was still sickened by what she'd witnessed, Dopff was dismayed and Janssen, though grateful to be rescued by Daniel for the second time, was aghast at the cold efficiency with which he'd taken a man's life.

  Amalia was caught up in a tangle of emotions. She felt relief, disgust, hope, fear and remorse. Daniel had saved her from being raped and intense gratitude was thus uppermost in her mind. But he'd done so by strangling someone to death in front of her and it had been nauseating to watch. It made her look at Daniel in a slightly different way. Loving him for his bravery, she was also wary of him now. His strength was frightening. She'd only seen his kindness and tenderness before. Watching him as a soldier, trained to kill, had been a chastening experience. While accepting that it had been a necessary death, she was still very disturbed by it.

  The storm had spent its force now and no longer battered them. As the others tried to get their breath back, Daniel inspected the saddlebags on the three horses. They were full of weapons and of plunder from previous ambushes. He gathered all the money up and put it under the seat in the coach. Then he selected a dagger and a pistol, glad that there was plenty of ammunition to go with it. There was still enough light for him to study the map he'd kept hidden in his coat. Amalia and her father came over to interrupt him.

  'Where are we going?' asked Janssen.

  'Well, it won't be to Beauvais,' replied Daniel, 'I can tell you that much. We need to strike north-east. Since I'll ride one of the horses, the load will be lightened somewhat. We can press on harder.'

  'I can ride as well, if need be, and Amalia is a very competent horsewoman. Riding is one of the few things we did together.'

  'I enjoy it,' she confirmed. 'It was something I missed in Paris because Father was too busy. I'll be glad to take one of the horses.'

  'That will speed us up considerably,' said Daniel. 'Kees will be our coachman and Beatrix his only passenger. The coach will be much easier to pull.' He indicated the three animals. 'Choose any horse you wish.'

  Janssen went off to do so but Amalia lingered beside Daniel.

  'I haven't been able to thank you properly,' she said. 'You saved me from that awful man. I hated what you did but I admired your courage in doing it.'

  'I'm sorry you had to be there when it happened.'

  'None of us had any choice in the matter.'

  'We'll take care not to be caught like that again,' he said.

  She looked over her shoulder. 'What about those men?'

  'They'll never catch up with us on foot, Amalia.'

  'They might find other horses somehow,' she said, 'then they'd be certain to come after us.'

  'They'd be very foolish to do so,' said Daniel. 'We have their weapons and ammunition. In any case,' he added, folding up his map, 'they'll be riding in the wrong direction altogether. They think we're going to Beauvais.'

  Tom Hillier was looking forward to the experience with an uneasy mixture of timidity, excitement and trepidation. At first he tried to get out of it, providing endless feeble excuses. Hugh Dobbs refused to accept any of them, insisting that he joined the three of them who intended to visit the town that night. Hillier was committed. He liked girls but had had very little to do with them when working on the family farm. It was only at dances and harvest festival celebrations that he spent any real time in female company and he'd always felt awkward in doing so. It was one thing to share ribald jokes with his new friends but quite another to go to bed with a woman. The possible fear of failure tormented him.

  Some armies allowed prostitutes to travel with the troops or gave them ready access wherever they pitched camp. The Duke of Marlborough had done his best to stamp out such practices, believing that soldiers fought best when not distracted by pleasures of the flesh. Women did accompany his army with the baggage wagons but they were the actual or common-law wives of particular individuals and, as such, were not seen as posing any threat. Marlborough had fought in armies where venereal diseases had disabled some of the men and he didn't want his own soldiers to be affected in that way. Lust, however, could never be wholly controlled, especially in virile young men. Those eager for sexual passion would always find it somewhere.

  As the hour for departure drew near, Hillier lay on his back in the tent with his hands behind his head, wishing for a thunderstorm or some other obstacle to prevent them from leaving. Dobbs rolled over and shook him by the arm.

  'It won't be long now, Tom,' he said.

  'You'd better go without me, Hugh. I don't feel well.'

  'I was as sick as a dog before my first time but she made it so easy for me. My head was in the clouds for days.'

  'What if we're caught leaving the camp?' asked Hillier.

  'We won't be.'

  'I still think it's too risky.'

  'The only risk you
take is of catching something nasty between the sheets and that won't happen here. The women are as clean as can be. What you'll be getting is healthy recreation.'

  'I'm not sure that I'm old enough, Hugh.'

  'Of course, you are,' said Dobbs. 'I was only fifteen.'

  There was no escape. Resigning himself to the inevitable, Hillier brooded on what lay ahead. Two of the other drummers were joining the escapade. As he listened to them trading memoirs about previous visits to brothels, Hillier felt even more unready for the challenge. The time eventually came for them to set out. The camp was in darkness. Dobbs took the lead because he'd already reconnoitred the position of the picquets. They followed him in single file with Hillier at the rear. Dodging between the bushes, they reached the stream and paddled across it. Hillier caught up with his friend.

  'My breeches are soaked, Hugh,' he complained.

  'They'll have plenty of time to dry when you take them off,' said Dobbs. 'Now stay close and keep your voice down.'

  Only when they were well clear of the camp could the four of them relax and talk freely. Hillier still worried about the consequences of leaving camp without permission but the others were obsessed with what lay ahead. Their language became cruder, their expectations more colourful. Hillier was made to feel like a callow outsider. Dobbs poked him with a friendly elbow.

  'Don't worry, Tom,' he said. 'If you lived on a farm, you probably fucked a sheep or two in your time,' he added jokingly.

  'We kept dairy cows.'

  'Then you must have seen them mounted by a bull. What they did was only natural. It's the same with a woman. You're the lusty young bull mounting a warm, welcoming cow with lovely udders to play with and suck. I'll wager that you love every second.'

  Hillier did not share his confidence. When the town was at last conjured out of the gloom, his mouth went dry and sweat broke out on his face. Dobbs clearly had an excellent memory. He picked his way through the streets as if he'd been raised there. Candles flickered in some windows but most houses were dark. Dobbs stopped outside one where a finger of light could be seen between the shutters.

  'This is it,' he announced, rubbing his hands.

  Hillier looked up at it with apprehension. The house was large. Built of local stone, it had a thatched roof with prominent eaves. From inside they could hear the sound of muffled voices. As if in proof of its credentials as a brothel, the door suddenly opened and two soldiers tumbled out, laughing happily as they did up their uniforms. They rolled off down the street on their way back to camp.

  'There you are,' said Dobbs, 'I told you they always give you what you want. Knock the door, Tom.'

  Hillier quailed. 'Me?'

  'You must be first.'

  'I'd rather wait, Hugh.'

  'Stop arguing and knock the door.'

  'Yes,' said one of the others, 'we want our money's worth.'

  Hillier stepped forward and tapped on the door, scared of what he might find on the other side of it. The door was opened by a woman holding a candle. He could see that she was fat, middle- aged and raddled. She wore a silk dress with a low decolletage and bared her snaggly teeth in a welcoming grin.

  'Don't just stand there, Tom,' said Dobbs, pushing him over the threshold. 'Manhood awaits you.'

  For the second time in a row, Daniel chose to spend the night sleeping upright in the coach. It stood beside the stables in which their horses had been stalled. The inn was fairly remote but he took no chances. Two loaded pistols were at hand in case of nocturnal intruders. The brush with the highwaymen had been unpleasant but it had yielded rewards. They now had three horses at their disposal and had found a substantial amount of money in the saddlebags. Daniel was sitting on top of it.

  He came awake periodically to check that all was well then returned to his slumbers. It was when he opened his eyes for the third time that he thought he glimpsed movement in the darkness. He reached for one of the pistols and stared through a window. Nothing was there yet he was convinced he'd seen something. Deciding that it must have been a dog or even a fox, he put the pistol aside. Almost immediately he snatched it up again as he heard footsteps.

  'Daniel,' called a voice softly. 'Are you there?'

  It was Amalia, wrapped up in a cloak. When she reached the coach, she smiled in through the window. He opened the door and helped her in.

  'What are you doing here at this time of night?' he said.

  'I wanted to speak to you.'

  'There are more convenient moments to do that, Amalia.'

  'We're never really alone during the day.'

  'Sit down,' he invited, moving over so that she could perch beside him. 'Beatrix will raise the whole inn when she realises that you're not there in the bed.'

  'She's a heavy sleeper,' said Amalia. 'You'd have to fire a pistol to wake her up once she dozes off.'

  'What did you want to say to me?'

  'I owe you an apology, Daniel.'

  'That's not true at all.'

  'It is,' she insisted. 'After all you'd done for us, I didn't trust you. When you told that man where we'd hidden our valuables, I thought you were only trying to save your own skin. Instead, you merely wanted to distract him.' She gave a shrug. 'I'm ashamed that I thought so badly of you at the time.'

  'Not at all,' he said, stroking her arm. 'Your father and the others must have felt exactly the same. Kees had managed to undo the rope around my wrists. I needed Gustave's attention elsewhere so that I could untie my feet. You know the rest.'

  'That's the other apology I must make.'

  'What is?'

  'I was shocked at what you did to that man. There was a moment when I actually felt sorry for him even though he was so repulsive. I'd never seen anything like that before.'

  'I hope you never have to do so again, Amalia.'

  'It's been in my mind ever since,' she said. 'I was lying in bed thinking about it. Looking back, it was so unjust of me. It was almost as if I was blaming you for what happened whereas you had to do what you did. That man deserved it. We both know what he had in mind for me and Beatrix. The horror was unimaginable.'

  'No apology is necessary,' he told her.

  'I believe that it is. I thought ill of you.'

  'To save lives, you often have to take one, Amalia. It's a rule of military life. I wasn't going to let that oaf molest you. He'll get no sympathy from me.'

  'Nor from me,' she said.

  'Are the others still sickened by what I did?'

  'Beatrix will never get over it. She talked of nothing else until she fell asleep. She began to wonder what you did to that man who was watching our house in Paris.'

  'It's just as well she wasn't there at the time.'

  'Father was upset,' Amalia went on, 'but more for my sake than his own. He was hurt that I should've been forced to watch but I'm not as delicate as he seems to think. What happened to us in Paris has made me a lot stronger.'

  'Adversity can often bring out the best in people.'

  'As for Kees, I fancy that he was as revolted as the rest of us.'

  'I hope they'll all forgive me in time.'

  'They admire you, Daniel, but you did upset them.'

  'Everyone likes pork on their plate but nobody wants to see the pig being killed.' She recoiled in surprise. 'I'm sorry,' he said, 'that was a rather vulgar way of putting it.'

  'Nevertheless, it was probably accurate.'

  'You must go back to bed, Amalia.'

  'Are we still friends?' she asked, quietly.

  'We're very good friends,' he told her. 'Nothing will change that. Do you feel any better for speaking to me?'

  'Yes, I do.'

  'Then go back to your room. I'll walk you to the door.'

  'There's no hurry, is there?'

  'We both need our sleep.'

  'I'm enjoying it here, Daniel.'

  'You should be resting in a proper bed.'

  'Can I stay just a little longer?'

  'It's late, Amalia.'

  'I'll go
in a few minutes,' she said, snuggling up against him. 'You won't send me away, will you?'

  He put an arm around her. 'It would never cross my mind.'

  'Thank you, Daniel.'

  They fell asleep together.

  It was a revelation. The woman was young, shapely, compliant and experienced. She made Hillier feel wanted and unthreatened. Her skin was smooth, her hair silken and her lips sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted before. His only regret was that it was over so quickly. What pleased him most was that it was very different from the way his friends had described it. Instead of the wild rutting they'd all talked about, Hillier had enjoyed a gentle encounter, full of soft caresses and tenderness. During the short time it had taken, he'd been madly in love with the woman, wanting to make her his own. It was only when he left the room and Dobbs went straight into it that he realised he was merely sharing her with others.

  The walk back to camp gave them a chance for comparison. Hillier's friends were loud-mouthed and boastful. He didn't join in the banter. They seemed to be talking about something that had never happened to him. Dobbs tried to prompt him.

  'Did you enjoy it?' he asked.

  'Yes, Hugh.'

  'Do you feel any different now?'

  'I do,' admitted Hillier.

  'We picked the right girl. Have you ever felt such a body? 1 rode her for ages. Why didn't you stay longer?'

  'I had what I wanted.'

  Dobbs giggled. 'Did she take you in her mouth?'

  'I had what I wanted,' repeated Hillier, refusing to be drawn.

  While the others went into details of their respective couplings, Hillier held his peace. He was still uncertain whether to feel ashamed or exhilarated. Visiting a brothel was something he'd looked on as anathema before. In losing his virginity, he'd also sacrificed his respectability. But he was a drummer now, able to grab the passing pleasures of a soldier's life. The pleasure in this case had been indescribable. He could still feel the blood bubbling in his veins and taste her luscious kisses. A sense of remorse intruded. He wondered what his parents would think of him if they knew what he'd done. It would be seen as sordid, immoral and unbecoming. They would be badly wounded. His pleasure was tempered by repentance.