A Principle of Honour

Chapter 26

James was exhausted. It had begun to rain a couple of hours ago, and there was no sign that it was going to stop anytime soon. The water just kept on pouring relentlessly from the leaden sky. And now his uniform was soaking wet and covered in mud. Earlier that day, his horse had been shot from under him, and he was riding a horse that had once belonged to a recently deceased cavalry officer. His new horse was fast but unruly, and James had to muster all the energy he could find to control the wayward beast.

Everyone he had met that evening was just as wet and miserable as he was feeling. The fighting had been fierce, much more ferocious than they had ever encountered before. It did not help that most of the troops were unseasoned and had never tasted battle. Their more experienced colleagues, where possible, had tried to led the way and show them by example what must be done on the battlefield. But, in the deluge that had followed the fighting, they too were beginning to lose heart. Everyone had lost far too many friends over the past two days, and they just wanted the conflict to be over.

There would be little rest for James tonight. He had to ride the twenty-two miles to Brussels, on an unruly horse, and then make it back to the front line before midnight. Once back, he would hopefully snatch a few hours of sleep before hostilities resumed the next day.

Before he left for Brussels, he stopped just outside Genappe. There had been fierce fighting that day, and the 7th had been in the thick of it. He had made a promise to Verity to look out for her brother, and he was honour bound to do so.

A Captain from the 7th came to greet him. 'Colonel,' he said, 'where did you get that beast?'

James dismounted his horse and patted its mane. The horse reared his head in protest at the sign of affection. 'We were thrown together,' James said wearily.

'He looks like he needs to learn some manners,' the Captain said with a smile.

'I do not care if he likes me or not,' James replied, 'as long as he does not get me killed.'

'To what do we owe the pleasure?' The Captain said politely after the pleasantries were over, 'I would offer you a drink, but as you can see, you have caught us at a rather inconvenient time.'

'Do not worry, Captain Fallbrook,' he replied, 'I have come to enquire after one of your young officers, Stanford.'

'Oh,' Captain Fallbrook replied, his voice became suddenly serious, 'you had better come with me and talk to Major Curtis.'

James followed Captain Fallbrook into a small tent that was leaking. 'Major Curtis,' Captain Fallbrook said, 'Colonel Mitford is here to see you.'

'Colonel,' Major Curtis thundered, 'come in, come in.' He tidied away a few papers and put them on the floor after he had tried in vain to find a place for them on his small, rickety desk. 'Please, sit down.'

Major Curtis motioned to a wooden chair that he had just unfolded. It looked, to James, as though it would not support his weight. 'Please do not trouble yourself,' James said politely, as the rain continued to thunder against the canvas of the tent.

'No trouble at all, sir,' Major Curtis said jovially.

'I am afraid I will make the inside of your tent wet,' James said, as he sat down gingerly on the rather unstable chair.

'As you can see, sir,' Major Curtis replied, 'it is already wetter in here than it is outside.' Major Curtis poured two small glasses of brandy from his canteen and gave one to James. 'What brings you here?'

'I have come to enquire after Stanford,' he said, as he drained his glass.

Major Curtis stood up and went over to his jacket. 'I am sorry, sir,' he said with a sigh, 'I know you were looking out for the lad.' He then took a small bundle out of his pocket and gave it to James.