‘You sound confident.’
‘We are,’ put in another man. ‘We have a larger army and better commanders. Our enemies have been very lucky so far.’
‘It’s true,’ said Crevel. ‘They’ve escaped by the skin of their teeth time and again. We came close to routing them at Ramillies. I was there. We had victory within our grasp.’
It was not how Daniel remembered it but he didn’t contradict the major. The battle had been a resounding triumph for the Allies. Major Crevel had been one of thousands of French officers who fled from the field in a panic. Pretending to be impressed, Daniel asked for details of Ramillies. The two flagons of wine that arrived at the table helped to lubricate the reminiscences of Crevel and his party. They gave the impression that the Allies had come close to extinction on the battlefield. In fact, as Daniel knew well, they’d suffered only limited casualties. It was the French army that had been cut to shreds.
‘What manner of man is the duc de Vendome?’ asked Daniel.
Crevel cackled. ‘A stranger one than you’ve ever met, my friend,’ he said with a knowing wink at his friends.
‘Is he as sanguine as you seem to be?’
‘Why do you want to know that?’ asked one of the men, eyeing Daniel with mistrust. ‘Just because you bought us a drink, don’t think you have the right to question us.’
‘I apologise,’ said Daniel, holding up both hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘I was simply making conversation. I’ve only just arrived in the town and what I really want to know is where I can find a warm woman for the night.’
‘We could all do with one of those,’ declared Crevel, banging the table for emphasis. ‘I like them warm and willing.’
‘Then you’re a man after my own heart.’
‘And she must be French — I’ll none of these Flemish doxies.’
‘Nor me,’ agreed Daniel, ‘they’re as plain as pikestaffs and as cold as a night in Siberia.’
‘Stick a hot pizzle in them and it’ll come out as an icicle.’
When the raucous laughter died down, they discussed local brothels they’d either visited or heard reports about. Feigning interest, Daniel said he’d call on one of them later. Crevel offered to do so with him but, when he tried to rise from the table, he collapsed back down onto his chair again. Ribald comments were made at his expense. Now that the talk had moved away from military matters, the men were more relaxed and unguarded. Daniel felt that he’d been accepted. He kept plying them with wine. When he mentioned a recent visit to Paris, all of them had boastful stories about their conquests in the French capital. Crevel nodded off to sleep at one point but woke up on cue when a fresh supply of wine arrived at the table.
‘What kept you, landlord?’ he complained. ‘I’m dying of thirst.’
‘Don’t listen to him,’ said one of the others. ‘He’s drunk more than the rest of us put together.’
‘My throat is parched.’
‘Then let’s slake your thirst,’ suggested Daniel, raising his cup.
‘To victory in the field!’
‘To victory in the field!’ they chorused.
‘And in the bedchamber,’ added Crevel, wildly.
He took a long sip of wine then realised that he was in dire need of using the privy. Two of his friends helped him to his feet. Seeing his opportunity, Daniel got up.
‘Let me take him,’ he said, grabbing the major’s arm. ‘I have to go out there myself.’ He got a firmer grip on Crevel. ‘Come on. We can manage it together.’
Looping an arm around Daniel’s neck, Crevel staggered out with him. The privy was in the courtyard at the rear of the tavern. It was dark outside but a lantern was hanging beside the door. Daniel got the major there and helped him inside. Then he stepped back into the shadows. As he did so, he was seized roughly from behind and pushed up against a wall. A dagger was held at his throat by one of Crevel’s friends. His voice was dripping with suspicion.
‘Who are you?’ he demanded. ‘What’s your game?’
CHAPTER FIVE
Daniel was in great danger. It was evident from the tone in the man’s voice that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill his captive if he made a false move. He jabbed with the dagger. Daniel felt momentary pain then blood trickled slowly down his neck.
‘I saw you watching us from the corner,’ said the other, coldly. ‘You were waiting for your chance to move in and ingratiate yourself. Well, not all of us were as drunk as you thought even though you kept buying us more wine. I can still see and think clearly. What’s more,’ he went on, sniffing noisily, ‘I can still smell and what I’ve got in my nostrils is a nasty stink.’
‘That’s because we’re too near the privy,’ said Daniel.
‘Don’t jest with me,’ warned the man. ‘Who are you?’
‘I’ve told you. My name is Marcel Daron.’
‘What’s your real name?’
‘That’s it, I swear it. I’m a wine merchant.’
‘And why does a wine merchant suddenly turn up here at the very moment when the army happens to be in Valenciennes?’
Daniel shrugged. ‘It’s just a coincidence, my friend.’
‘I’m no friend of yours,’ said the other, ‘and I’m certain that you’re no friend of ours. You gave yourself away when you offered to help Major Crevel out here. You wanted to get him on your own so that you could wheedle information out of him. I knew there was something peculiar about you.’ The dagger point drew more blood. ‘Now for the last time, tell me who you are or I’ll slit your throat.’
‘I really am Marcel Daron,’ said Daniel, earnestly.
‘You’re lying.’
‘It’s the gospel truth.’
‘Then why are you here?’
‘I’m breaking my journey on the way to see my sister in Lille.’
‘You put your life in jeopardy by travelling alone?’
‘I rode here with a score of others and will not venture on until I can enjoy the safety of numbers again. I know there’s a war on,’ said Daniel, ‘and that perils may lie ahead. Believe me, I’d much rather have stayed at home to look after my business. But my sister is grievously sick. She begged me to visit her.’
The man put his face close. ‘I don’t think you have a sister.’
‘I can prove it to you. I have a letter from her in my pocket. And you’ll be able to see from my papers that I really am Marcel Daron. Step nearer to that lantern,’ advised Daniel, ‘and you’ll be able to read more easily. Here,’ he continued, taking out a sheet of paper. ‘See for yourself what poor Hortense wrote.’
Glancing down to take it from him, the man gave Daniel the vital fraction of time that he needed. He moved like lightning. Seizing the wrist of the hand that held the weapon, he bunched the other fist and used it to deliver some fierce punches to the man’s face, splitting his nose, closing both his eyes and knocking him senseless with a blow to the chin. As he slumped to the ground, the officer let go of the dagger. Daniel picked it up at once, easing it between the ribs and into the heart. He didn’t bother to retrieve the letter from his phantom sister. It was really a tavern reckoning.
Daniel opened the privy door and found that Major Crevel was fast asleep. After hauling him out, he dragged the corpse into the privy and closed the door on it. Then he pulled up Crevel’s breeches and more or less carried him across to the stables. Daniel’s horse was already saddled in readiness for a quick departure. Reaching into a saddlebag for some lengths of rope, he bound Crevel hand and foot then used a handkerchief as a gag. The major was too drunk and fatigued to know what was going on. When he was lifted bodily and draped over one of the other horses, he made no complaint. Daniel used another rope to secure his cargo before leading both horses out of the courtyard.
Inside the tavern, the other officers continued to roister. It was a long time before they began to wonder where their friends were. One of them eventually went outside to investigate. When he discovered the corpse in the privy, he raised the alarm and a search began but there was no hope of their finding Major Crevel. He was lying in a ditch over a mile away, snoring up to heaven, blithely unaware of the fact that he was no longer in his uniform.