He looked at Stratton, who also appeared to be deep in thought, and held the wine jug over the Englishman’s mug. Stratton did not react and Victor started to pour before realising that Stratton’s mug was still full. ‘You’re not drinking tonight?’ he asked.
Stratton shook his head.
‘What are you thinking about?’ Victor asked.
Stratton did not say.
‘I think I know. You’re going home tomorrow, for sure this time.’
‘For sure.’
‘Maybe you’ll be lucky and something else will stop you.’ Victor inspected the palms of his hands. ‘Can I ask you something?’
Stratton didn’t seem to care either way.
‘If you knew something . . . maybe I should say, if you strongly suspected something that no one else did, and you wanted to reveal it, but if you did it would mean risking ridicule, would you still say it or would you stay silent?’
‘What are you talking about?’ Stratton asked tiredly.
‘I know. It doesn’t make sense. But I can’t say anything without saying what I don’t want to say. Ah, forget it.’
Stratton felt a twinge of guilt about not being of help to the Frenchman. ‘I suppose that would depend on how important it was.’
‘It’s very important. Life-threatening.’
‘Then why would you be ridiculed?’
‘Because people don’t take me seriously. Have you ever wondered why Sebastian made me his second in command? Everyone else does.’
Stratton had too but didn’t want even to hint at it.
‘I was not Sebastian’s first second in command, nor even his second or third. Those men had all been soldiers, selected for their military skills as well as for their leadership. They were strong-minded men who had firm opinions about how things should be run. On occasion they would act on their own initiative, often to Sebastian’s consternation. He wanted to control everything himself. He came to see those strong-minded men as obstacles. When I arrived he must have decided I was perfect for him. I was educated, I had management skills and I didn’t know a damned thing about soldiering. I was also not very assertive. Oh, I can stand up for myself, but that’s not the same. I would not obstruct him. But I did begin to question things.’
Victor took a long sip of his wine and went silent.
‘Do you have proof ?’ Stratton asked.
‘Of what?’
‘This thing you know, or suspect, that no one else does.’
‘Of course not. I would not be ridiculed if I could prove it.’
‘Is there proof ? Can you get any?’
‘There must be. But I don’t know how to get it.’
‘Can you influence a change?’
‘What do you mean?’ Victor asked, showing interest in the suggestion.
‘I don’t know. Only you do. I’m trying to help you out, that’s all.’
‘No, no. That’s an interesting question,’ Victor said, looking thoughtful. And then just as quickly he lost confidence in himself. ‘But I don’t think I’m strong enough.’
‘In what way? Physically or mentally?’
‘Both.’
‘I think you’re too hard on yourself.’
‘If that’s a way of saying I’m tougher than I think, thank you. But I know myself well enough.’
‘That’s what they all say. I’ve spent my entire adult life in wars and conflicts. They have a habit of chang - ing everything about a man. People either change to survive the violence, escape it, or they change to fight it. Maybe you weren’t the most perfect second in command when you took the job. But maybe you’re a lot more like those other guys now than you think.’
Victor thought about this as he took another sip of wine. ‘And you, my friend. How have you changed?’
Stratton shrugged.
Victor smiled as if he knew something. ‘Have you ever been in love before?’
Stratton didn’t want to hear that particular question. He reached for his mug of wine.
‘Come on. Why don’t you lower that wall just for once in your life?’
Stratton held on to his mug and stared at the candle. ‘I thought I had been, until now. I would have run away the day I got here if I’d known it was going to be like this.’
‘Then you have not changed at all. Anyone can fall in love. The change for you would be holding on to it.’
Stratton glanced at Victor, feeling the sting of the comment. He got up and went to the fire that burned vigorously in the grate. A large cauldron of steaming water hung on a chain above it. ‘You want this first?’ he asked, dipping a finger in it just long enough to discover it was hot.
Victor emptied his mug and got to his feet. ‘I had a bath last week,’ he said, picking up his hat and jacket and walking to the door. ‘I will not be back tonight,’ he said, looking resolute about something. ‘If you can change, well, I can too.’ He opened the door and paused to look back at Stratton. ‘In case I don’t get a chance to say it later, it’s been an honour.’
The two men held each other’s gazes for a moment. Victor stepped into the darkness and closed the door behind him. Stratton could only wonder what was on the Frenchman’s mind.
A large metal bath hung from a nail on the wall. Stratton lifted it off and placed it in front of the fire.
He wiped a finger around the inside to discover that it was coated in dust. ‘Which week was that, Victor?’ he asked softly.
He rinsed out the bath with some cold water and set about emptying the cauldron into it.
As Victor left the cabin he noticed the flames of the courtyard fire. Half a dozen armed rebels were gathered at the wooden table, talking, smoking and drinking coffee. The night had a distinct chill to it. All of the men wore jackets or woollen jumpers.
Victor gave them a wave that was returned with more enthusiasm than he had noticed before. Those who had taken part in the Chemora attack had been elevated to heroic status. Victor could not help feeling inspired by the achievement as he headed towards the smaller cabin.
He knocked on the door, which was opened a moment later by Louisa. ‘Victor. Come in,’ she said.
Sebastian was at the table, finishing off a meal. ‘Good evening, Victor. To what do we owe the pleasure?’
‘I was wondering if I could have a brief word with you. Something has been on my mind and I have to discuss it.’
‘We cannot have things weighing heavily on minds if they can be lifted,’ Sebastian said.
‘I’m going for a walk,’ Louisa said. ‘Don’t wait up for me.’ She smiled a goodbye to her father and Victor and left the cabin.
Victor faced Sebastian and took a deep breath as if to strengthen his resolve. ‘I’m troubled,’ he said. ‘It has to do with this assassination attempt.’
Sebastian waited patiently.
‘The one person I least trust in all of this is Steel. At least we know Neravista. We know what he wants.’
‘We all know not to trust Steel.’
‘Yes, but we all have different ideas of how far to trust him. You trust him enough to let him into this camp, for instance. I do not. I would not be surprised if he had something to do with the attempt on your life.’
‘Where is your evidence?’
‘I don’t have any.’
‘Then this notion is a product of your imagination.’
‘That’s not all. I think Steel has allegiances to others - stronger than to us. I do not discount Hector’s involvement in this.’
Sebastian’s gaze turned cold. ‘Please don’t try to manipulate me, Victor. I expect more from you.’
‘Do you?’ Sebastian did not miss the flash of new tough-mindedness in Victor’s tone. ‘I came here to give you my views. As second in command I think I am entitled to air them.’
‘If I wanted those kinds of views I would have someone with a background in military intelligence as my adviser.’