Flashman Papers 3-Book Collection 4: Flashman and the Dragon, Flashman on the March, Flashman and the Tiger. George Fraser MacDonald
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the bravest man in th’Army, so it is.’ Dat’s whut they said.” He paused, getting his breath back in his excitement, and for the life of me I could only mouth at him. He stepped closer, breathing whisky at me. “An’ I sez nuthin’, but I thinks, is that a fact, now? ’Cos I seen him when he wuzn’t bein’ so bloody heroical, lickin’ a Chinese nigger’s boots an’ whinin’ fer his life!”
If I’d been heeled, I’d have shot him then and there, and damn the consequences. For there was no doubt he had me, or where he was going. He nodded, bright-eyed, and licked his coarse lips.
“Aye, so I got to studyin’. An’ whut d’ye think? Sez I to meself, ‘Shure, whut a hell of a pity it’d be, if this wuz to get about, like.’ In the Army, ye know? I mean – even if iveryone said, och, it’s just Paddy Nolan lyin’ again – d’ye not think there’s some might believe the shavea, eh? There’d be questions, mebbe; there might even be wan hell of a scandal.” He shook his head, leering. “Talk, colonel. Ugly talk. Ye know what I mean? Bad for the credit o’ th’Army. Aye, a bloody back’s a sore thing, so it is – but it heals faster’n a blown reppitation.” He paused a moment. “I’d think, meself, it’d be worth keepin’ quiet. Wouldn’t you, colonel?”
I could bluster still – or not. Better not; it would be a waste of time. This was a cunning swine; if he spread his story as well as he’d summed it up, I was done for, disgraced, ruined. I knew my Army, you see, and the jealousies and hatreds under the hearty grins. Oh, I didn’t lack for enemies who’d delight in sniffing it all out, prying till they found Carnac, compared dates, put two and two together – where had I been on August 13, eh? Even if I could bluff it away, the mud would stick. And this sly peasant could see clear through; he knew he didn’t have to prove a thing, that being guilty I’d be ready to fork out to prevent any breath of rumour –
“Sir Harry! Are you there?” It was Parkes’s voice, calling sharply from the verandah twenty yards away; his figure was silhouetted against the glow from the house. “Sir Harry?”
Nolan took a swift step back into the shadows. “’Tis another word we’ll be havin’ tomorrow, colonel – eh?” he whispered. “Until den.” I heard his soft chuckle as I turned to the house, still stricken dumb, with Parkes crying: “Ah, there you are! Care for a nightcap?”
How much sleep I got you may imagine. I couldn’t defy the brute – the question was whether it was safer to pay squeeze and risk his blabbing another day, or kill him and try to make it look accidental. That was how desperate I was, and it was still unresolved when we saddled up at dawn to ride back to the army. As the party fell in under the trees, a sudden reckless devil took hold of me, and I told the dragoon corporal I’d inspect the escort; Parkes cocked an amused eyebrow at this military zeal, while the corporal bawled his troopers into mounted line. I rode slowly along, surveying each man carefully while they sweated in the sun; I checked one for a loose girth, asked the youngest how long he’d been in China, and came to Nolan on the end, staring red-faced to his front. A fly settled on his cheek, and his lip twitched.
“Let it be, my boy,” says I, jocular-like. “If a fly can sit still, so can you. Name and service?”
“Nolan, sorr. Twelve years.” His brow was running wet, but he sat like a statue, wondering what the hell I was about.
“Trahnsferred las’ month, sir, when 44th went dahn to Shang’ai,” says the corporal. “Cavalry trained, tho’; in the Skins, I b’lieve.”
“Why’d you transfer, Nolan?” I asked idly, and he couldn’t keep his voice steady.
“If ye please, sorr … I … I tuk a fancy to see Pee-kin, sorr.”
“Looking for excitement, eh?” I smiled. “Capital! Very good, corporal – form up.”
If you ask what I was up to … why, I was taking a closer look by daylight – and unsettling the bastard; it never hurts. But it was a wasted effort, for in the next hour everything changed, and even disgrace and reputation ceased to matter … almost.
The road had been empty coming up, but from the moment we left Tang-chao we were aware of a steady movement of Imperial troops – a few odd platoons and half-sections at first, and then larger numbers, not only on the road but in the paddy and millet-fields either side. What seemed most odd, they were moving in the same direction as ourselves – towards our army. I didn’t like the look of ’em above half, but there was nothing to do but forge ahead. We rode at a steady canter for about an hour, past increasing numbers, and when we came to Chang-kia-wan, about half-way home, the town was thick with them, and there was no doubt of it: we were in the middle of a thumping big Imperial army. Parkes wanted to stop to make inquiries, the ass, but as senior officer I wouldn’t allow it, and we cantered out of the place – and had to skirt the road to pass a full regiment of Bannermen, great ugly devils in bamboo armour who scowled and shouted abuse at us as we thundered by.
“What can this mean?” cries Parkes, as we drew clear. “They cannot intend to put themselves in Sir Hope’s way, surely?”
“They ain’t going to a field day!” says I. “Colonel Walker, how many d’you reckon we’ve come through?”
“Ten thousand, easily,” says he. “But God knows how many there are in the millet-fields – those stalks are fifteen feet high.”
“Take the rear, and keep ’em closed up!” says I. “Forward!”
“My dear Sir Harry!” cries Parkes. “Surely we should stop and consider what is to be done!”
“What’s to be done is get to the Army. Close up, there!”
“But, my dear sir! They cannot mean any treachery, I –”
“Mr Parkes,” says I, “when you’ve ridden through as many armies as I have, you learn how to smell mischief – and it’s breast-high here, I can tell you.”
“But we must not exhibit any signs of distrust!”
“Right you are,” says I. “Anyone who pukes or soils himself will answer to me!” Which had the troopers haw-hawing, while Parkes looked furious. “Really, sir – if they intended any harm, would they advance in full view? Why, the country to our right is quite clear!”
So it was, and the millet was so high to the left that for a moment we seemed all alone. I glanced right – and Walker was doing the same thing. Our eyes met, and I grabbed Parkes’s bridle as we rode, heading him out to the right, while he demanded to know what I was about.
“You’ll see,” I told him. What Walker and I had noticed was a big nullah away on the right, and now we went for it full lick, turning down its lip as we reached it, and Parkes gave a great cry of astonishment, and would have reined in, but I kept him going.
“In full view, eh?” says I. “That settles it!”
There were three thousand Tartar horsemen in that nullah if there was one, dismounted, with drawn sabres, and they gave a great roar at the sight of us. But now I had us heading left again, towards the road and the little village beyond which lay the camp-site to which our army would presently be advancing. As we thundered past it a little group of horsemen broke cover, led by a mandarin who yelled at us to keep away. Beyond him I could see the guns in the trees.
“Masked battery!” cries Walker. “Jesus – look at that!”
As we came through the fringe of trees to the camp-site, the whole eastern horizon seemed to be moving. Immediately to our left, a long bund stretched away, and it was lined with heavy guns, covering the camp-site; in the millet behind the bund the country was alive with Tiger soldiers, the black and yellow stripes clear to be seen, but on the eastern flank of the plain was the sight that had brought Walker up in his stirrups – long lines of Tartar cavalry, advancing at the walk, thousands upons thousands of them. We raced out into the unoccupied camp-site, and suddenly Parkes reined in, white-faced.