Jack Steel Adventure Series Books 1-3: Man of Honour, Rules of War, Brothers in Arms. Iain Gale
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horses. The men might even bathe, if they wish. They deserve a rest.’
They arrived at the little town at a little before five o’clock. It was a pretty place, with narrow cobbled streets which wound around a gentle hill and the half-timbered houses they had become used to in Swabia. As Steel had predicted, it sat above the confluence of two rivers beyond a gently arced stone bridge over the wider of the two. He halted the column before the bridge. The town looked deserted.
Williams approached him:
‘Shall I take a party on reconnaissance, Sir?’
‘No. I think we’ll stop here for the moment. I don’t like it.’
Williams followed his gaze across the bridge. Steel was right. The streets were quite empty. The young Ensign shivered as he recalled the carnage of Sattelberg. Steel saw him and read his mind.
‘No, Tom. I don’t think this is the work of the French again. We’re too far north here for them. Our own army, or at least our scouts might be just a few miles up that road. The French would never dare come so close.’
But in truth Steel was not sure whether he believed his own words. He could detect no sign of life in the dusty streets and the houses stood with empty windows gazing blindly. There was the occasional crash as a door slammed or a shutter banged against a wall, caught in the breeze.
‘Sarn’t Slaughter.’
The man came running from the front of the column. Steel dismounted.
‘Sir.’
‘Follow me. Bring your men and make sure their weapons are loaded.’
As Slaughter relayed the orders, checked the flints and the powder, Steel handed Molly’s reins to Williams.
‘Tom, you stay with the column. Major Jennings is bound to try to interfere. He’ll want to move on, most likely. Blame whatever you need to on me. I shan’t be long. Bring the rest of the Grenadier company forward into the town and leave the Major’s men as a rearguard. We don’t want to be taken by surprise again.’ He slipped his gun from the leather saddlebag across Molly’s flank and, having loaded it, advanced at the head of his Grenadiers across the bridge and up the single narrow street – barely the width of one and a half of their wagons – that led from it into the town. Still there was no sign of life. Slowly the redcoats made their way up the cobbles and into the heart of the town.
As was usual in these parts, Bachweiden was centred on a small square, with an arcaded market building on one side and on the other a church with a single spire. As Steel and his men moved between the houses, the clock on the church tower above them chimed the hour. It was the time at which work would stop and the tradesmen and workers of the town would be returning home to their families. But today there were no tradesmen. No families.
Nor thankfully, thought Steel, was there anything to suggest that this had been the scene of any violent struggle or a massacre. There were no howling dogs. No stench of rotting corpses. Nothing. He turned to Slaughter.
‘What do you make of it, Jacob?’
‘I’d say the place has been abandoned, Sir. There’s no one here. I can feel it. They’ve all buggered off. Frightened of them Dutch dragoons, if you ask me. Place doesn’t smell of death, Sir. If you know what I mean.’
Steel knew. There was an aura and an odour – honey-sweet and sickly – which hung around such places as Sattelberg. He hadn’t caught it here. He nodded.
‘Well we can’t search every house. I say we stay. Post picquets on the entrance roads and change the guard every hour. The men can take it in turns to bathe in the river. Keep them near the bridge, and make sure that the horses get watered. We’ll move the wagons into the main street. Tell the men to find what shelter they can for the night and make sure that there’s no looting. Oh, and Slaughter, tell Mister Williams to bring the carriage up to the square. I want that Bavarian bastard where I can see him tonight.’
As Slaughter hurried off, Steel sat down on the edge of the fountain. He laid the gun down beside his leg and rubbed at his eyes. He had almost accomplished what he had been sent to do for Marlborough and Hawkins. They were very nearly back with the army. Soon perhaps he might return to normality. Soon too he hoped they would face the French in the longed-for battle. Would that be an end to the war? He doubted it. Steel hoped it would not be, if that were not too dreadful a hope to nurture. War was his world. War brought him to life and he knew that would ever be the way.
He thought about what he had become and what he had come from. Of the family home and the farm and the happiness that filled them before his mother had died. He had been just eleven, poised on adulthood, ready to go to Eton and filled with hope for the future. Her death had changed all that. Or so it had seemed. In fact it had not been her death but the loss of an expected fortune from his uncle that had ruined the family and ensured that rather than school, his lot would be a miserable private tutor and an apparent destiny as a clerk in his uncle’s Edinburgh law firm. Steel had gone to work there at sixteen and that was what Arabella had rescued him from. And from temptation. For, coached by his fellow clerks, Steel had already begun to pilfer trifling amounts from the company books to pay for life’s little pleasures. Her arrival had taken him away from the inevitable fate to which that would have led him, and for that at least he would always be grateful. She had reopened his eyes to the beauty of life. Had reminded him that there were things truly worth having. Worth fighting for: love, honour, integrity.
And now there was something else for which he was fighting. He was fighting for the army itself. His army. Every battle strengthened it as an army of which the new Britain – Queen Anne’s Britain, could be truly proud.
Steel knew that however sound a job Marlborough might make of building his army, it was up to men like him, officers fighting in the field, to put the flesh on those bare bones. They were living at the dawn of a new era and Steel knew that what he wanted more than anything else in the world was to have a part in it. Although, perhaps now, he thought, there was just one more thing that he wanted. But she would have to wait.
The rumble of iron-rimmed wheels over the cobbles signalled the arrival in the square of Kretzmer’s carriage. Steel got to his feet and walked across to where it had pulled up in front of the stone pillars of the covered market. Jennings, his horse at a trot, rode a few paces behind.
‘So, Mister Steel. Where have you brought us now? Another deserted town? D’you suppose there will be more cadavers to be found here?’
He sniffed the air.
‘Perhaps not. But no people, for sure, hm?’
Steel bristled.
‘I couldn’t say, Major. But I would hazard not. We are not far from our own lines.’
‘Oh, are we not? And how d’you come to that? By my reckoning we are a good ten miles from the army, if not more. Or are you lost, perhaps?’
‘I intend to send Williams out as soon as possible. It is my belief that he will find the army directly to the north. At no more than five miles distant.’
Jennings smiled and dismounted.
‘Well, if you are so certain and the army is so close, why the urgency? We have time in hand, Steel, and an open town. Abandoned and thus legitimate booty for all to take. From what my Sergeant tells me its cellars and pantries are stuffed to bursting. Why not savour the moment? The army will wait until tomorrow.’
‘Do I have to remind you, Major, of the importance of our mission. Every day we delay will cost the army dearly. By tomorrow the lack of rations will start to tell. It is imperative that we return with the supplies as swiftly as we may. Williams must go forthwith.’
‘Do I have to remind you, Mister Steel, who commands here? In my opinion it would be far from prudent to send the boy off before morning. We have ample time. We rest here. That is an order, Steel.’
‘Very well, Sir.’
Steel knew how to play this game – strictly