‘That was a waste of time, Matt,’ said Edwin Lock, bitterly. ‘We rode all that way just to warm our hands at a fire.’
‘I’m sorry about that,’ said Searle. ‘I expected more.’
‘We all did. At the very least, we hoped for a tumble with a farmer’s wife or with a milkmaid.’
‘I definitely saw women there when I rode past a few days ago, Edwin. They must have been visitors.’
‘This life is starting to get me down,’ moaned Hugh Davey, undoing the buttons on his jacket. ‘I’ve had enough.’
‘Nobody walks out on me,’ warned Searle. ‘When you agreed to join us, Hugh, you swore to accept my leadership.’
‘Things have changed, Matt.’
‘We’ve had a little upset, that’s all.’
‘It’s not all,’ corrected Lock before taking another swig from the flagon of wine. ‘We’ve been let down twice in a row now. Last time, we had to leave Gregory behind.’
‘That was his own bleeding fault,’ snapped Searle.
‘This time, we got little money and no women.’
‘Edwin is right,’ said Davey. ‘It was a complete waste of time.’
‘What would you rather do?’ demanded Searle, rounding on him but addressing the other six of them as well. ‘Would you prefer to be in the army and have someone else running your lives, telling you when you can eat, drink, shave and shit? Is that what you want?’
‘No, Matt, you know it isn’t.’
‘But for me, the rest of you would still be stuck in uniform. Yes,’ he went on over the mocking laughter, ‘I know that you’re wearing army uniform now but you’re doing it of your own free will. You can take it off whenever you like. Let’s be frank about this,’ he continued, ‘there’s not a man among you who could have organised everything the way I did. I got all of you out of the clutches of the army and I’ve kept you alive ever since.’
‘You didn’t keep Gregory Pyle alive,’ said Lock, sullenly.
‘Nor Ianto Morgan, for that matter,’ said Searle, using the name to counter any stray thoughts they might have of mutiny. ‘You all know the penalty for desertion. Without me, most of you would’ve paid it by now.’
‘That’s not the point, Matt,’ said Davey.
‘Then what is, Hugh?’
‘Well, we can’t go on like this for ever, can we?’
‘No,’ said Lock, smirking. ‘We’ll run out of farms to burn down.’
‘I’m serious, Edwin. When does it all end?’
‘It ends when I say so,’ declared Searle.
Davey was blunt. ‘I think the time has come now.’
‘If that’s how you feel, off you go.’ Davey hesitated and looked around the others. ‘The same goes for the rest of you,’ said Searle. ‘If any of you are stupid enough to imagine that Hugh can get you safely back to England, then you can leave now. I’m not keeping you here.’
He sat back and took a long swig of wine. There was general unease among the others and sheepish glances were exchanged. Worried by the lack of support, Davey began to lose his nerve.
‘Perhaps we’re better off with you, Matt,’ he conceded.
Searle was sarcastic. ‘Oh, you’ve finally realised that, have you?’ he said. ‘You’ve shown a glimmer of intelligence at long last.’
‘I just want to know when we leave.’
‘Then I’ll tell you. We leave at the right moment and that’s not when there are so many patrols out looking for us. We bide our time, Hugh. We stay here and enjoy good food and good beer or wine. It won’t be long before there’s another battle,’ he predicted. ‘Patrols will be recalled then because every man will be needed. That’s when we make our move. That’s when we find our way to the coast and take ship to England. Does anyone disagree with that?’
He met each pair of eyes with an assertive stare. None of the men dared to speak. Matthew Searle had rescued them from an army routine they’d all hated. In spite of its drawbacks, their new life was much more enjoyable. They’d been able to savour a freedom they’d not known for years. Lock was the first to speak up.
‘I’m staying with you, Matt,’ he said.
‘So am I,’ said Davey.
‘What about the rest of you?’ There was a murmur of agreement from the others. Lock turned to his cousin. ‘There you are, Matt. We all want to stay if you can find us some willing women.’
‘There’s more to life than a hole between a woman’s legs,’ said Searle, philosophically. ‘Money is the key to everything. We need all we can get in order to sail to England and start a new life. When we have money, we can buy whatever we want.’ He raised his voice for emphasis. ‘Bear in mind that the hunt for us won’t end when we get back home. Our names will be listed among other deserters in the London Gazette and elsewhere. There’ll be a description of each one of us. We’ll be fugitives.’
‘I’ll change my name,’ decided Davey.
‘So will I,’ said Lock.
‘Take care to change your appearance as well,’ advised Searle, ‘and stay away from people who know you. If they realise you’re a deserter, they could inform on you.’
‘I never thought about that.’
‘You’ve got me to think of it for you, Edwin.’
‘Thank you, Matt. I can’t wait to get home to England.’
‘Nor can I,’ said Searle, tapping his flagon, ‘though I’ll miss this lovely wine. I never thought I’d learn to enjoy it more than beer.’
‘What I’ll miss,’ said Davey with a lascivious grin, ‘are these gorgeous Flemish women. Apart from them, I leave Flanders with no regrets.’
Lock was wistful. ‘Oh, I have one regret,’ he confided, ‘and I think about it every day. My regret is that I never had the chance to kill that swine of a sergeant, Henry Welbeck. He made my life a misery — God rot his soul!’ He held his flagon aloft. ‘Here’s to the long and agonising death of Sergeant Welbeck!’
Henry Welbeck rode beside Daniel Rawson at the head of a patrol. While the two friends wore civilian garb, the soldiers trotting in pairs behind them were in uniform. The patrol wasn’t simply protecting them, it was scouring the countryside for the deserters who’d caused so much havoc. Reports of the burning of a smallholding and the murder of its occupants had come in to the camp. It was another charge to add to the gruesome record.
‘This is a long way to go for a sword, Dan,’ said Welbeck.
‘I’m hoping we might catch some renegades along the way.’
‘Where did you see them?’
‘I’m not sure that I did, Henry,’ admitted Daniel. ‘I just thought I saw a glimpse of a redcoat where it wasn’t supposed to be.’
‘Then we could be hunting moonbeams.’
‘Someone else spotted them in the same part of the country and they had a clearer view. If the deserters have a hiding place, then it’s there or thereabouts.’
‘That sounds like a hopeful guess to me.’
‘Hopeful guesses sometimes hit the mark.’
‘More often than not,’ said Welbeck, ‘they’re miles wide of it. Still,’ he went on, sardonically, ‘I suppose that hunting for a handful of men in a country as big as this is no worse than searching for a sword in the middle of a vast French army. Both are fairly simple undertakings.’
Daniel chuckled. ‘You were ever the eternal optimist.’
‘I don’t like a wild goose chase, Dan.’
‘Yet you’d enjoy eating the goose if we actually caught it.’
‘Of course,’ said Welbeck. ‘And while we’re at it, couldn’t we catch a flying pig or two? I’m very partial to pork.’
Daniel was glad of his friend’s company and happy to put up with his rumbling cynicism. Since one of his own men was involved, Welbeck had a personal stake in the arrest of the deserters. Daniel was driven by the desire to exact revenge on behalf of the farmer who’d helped to save his life. The problem, he knew, was visibility. A patrol as large and conspicuous as the one at his back could be seen from miles away, giving the renegades plenty of time to go into hiding. When they got nearer to the copse where he’d seen the stray redcoat, therefore, Daniel intended to proceed with only Welbeck for company. Two men in rustic attire would blend more easily into the countryside.