Date: Thu, 13 Oct 2016 15:02:24 +1300
From: arthur carkeek <artcart65@gmail.com>
Subject: Drummer Boy Chapter 26

DRUMMER BOY
CHAPTER 26
BY
ARTHUR


CONTACT AUTHOR:
artcart65@gmail.com


Thomas called Estaban for a horse as he had decided to go alone to meet
with the Viscount. On arrival he did not have to wait long before Colonel
Lewis found him and escorted him into the presence of Viscount
Wellington. Once he had saluted the Viscount, Thomas stood and waited for
the man to speak.

"Ah Captain Marking; well done at the Tattoo, your men acquitted themselves
well and I believe there are a large number of my troops who will have to
wait until they are paid to have a few coins in their pockets. Now then
Captain, I wish you to leave for your assignment behind Massena's lines as
soon as possible. Once you have caused as much trouble as you can I want
you to leave for Albuera. You will report to Marshal Beresford; he will
inform you of the position he wants you to take once you and your men are
there. You will be under his direct orders Captain, so I hope you will take
note of his demands. Can you have your men ready to leave immediately? I
know I said originally that you may have a week but there have been some
new developments and I need for you to make your attacks on Massena's lines
as soon as possible."

"Almost immediately My Lord; tomorrow morning if you wish."

"Good then I expect not to see you until Beresford's report after the
battle of Albuera. You will have to leave the area of Fuentes de Onoro on
or about the middle of April to make Albuera in time. That's all I have for
you Captain; good luck to you and I hope all goes well for you and your
battalion."

"Thank you My lord."

Thomas saluted and left the Viscount to his mass of papers; he had work to
do and a lot of preparations to try to keep his men safe from the French in
the upcoming months. On his return to their camp; Thomas called for his
Officers and, for the next two hours they all discussed the new orders and
what it could mean for the Battalion; some of it was not good and Thomas's
biggest worry was being under the orders of a man he did not know.

Just before dawn the next day, Thomas led his Battalion out of Lisbon for
the long march to start his harassment of Massena's forces around Fuentes
de Onoro. Almost all of his stores from Vimeiro were now on wagons and
trailing the massed Companies as they turned north for their next meeting
with the French. The plan was to march to Guarda and then break up into
smaller groups and make for a campsite in the hills half way between
Almeida and Fuentes de Onoro; from there they would start their attacks in
their usual fashion.

Thomas hoped that by finding a camp still within reach of the English lines
it would deter the French from trying to find them; there would still be
the problems of their safety when going behind French lines but they were
now used to watching their backs in hostile lands. Thomas had little doubt
that they would not be able to stay in the area as long as the Viscount
wanted but that was something he kept to himself for the present; if luck
was on their side they would be able to cause enough disruption to the
supply and reinforcement lines to satisfy the Viscounts demands.

Thomas's plan was to be near Albuera well before he was expected;
everything would depend on the report from the boys who were even now well
on their way to the area for their mapping and their report would result in
the final plans with Marshal Beresford. Thomas had determined that he would
leave his gunners at Guarda where they could rest and it would also give
his more mobile companies less chance of capture if they were able to move
without the slower guns.

Once in Guarda, Thomas asked Lieutenant Croxley to work on making eight
batteries out of his sixteen guns and for the gunners to train for
individual actions without the need for orders from Croxley. Thomas told
Croxley to promote one man to Sergeant who would be in charge of each of
the batteries. Lieutenant Croxley said nothing about the new plan; he knew
by now that the young Captain always had his reasons for any changes he
made.

The week it had taken to make Guarda brought them into February and the
full force of the spring rains were now making themselves felt. The roads
had become quagmires for the most part and any movements of heavy equipment
took twice as long as normal; the foot soldiers had it only marginally
easier and the Cavalry were mostly restricted to the roadways.

The spring elements worked to Thomas's favour; his more mobile and better
trained men and boys did not see it as an inconvenience but as a means to
keep the French to their camps or on the slightly better roads for ease of
travel.

Thomas set up his main camp just at the very end of the mountains and close
to the river Coa. It was an ideal place to make raids into French held
Spain between the town of Almeida and the junction of the rivers Agueda and
Douro and would give them more open access to the plains behind Fuentes de
Onoro and Ciudad Rodrigo where he thought most of Massena's supplies and
reinforcements would be coming from.

Once the camp was set up and their guard lines set; Thomas called for his
Officers to make plans for their immediate future. After two hours the
meeting was ready to break up. It had been decided that Estaban would take
his well armed cavalry right into the rear of the French lines and use his
normal form of attack to disrupt troop reinforcements well behind the
lines; they were to report back to the camp every ten days or so unless
there was an emergency where they needed to get help from the six Companies
that stayed behind.

Thomas gave command of two Companies to Carmelo, two to Perrin and took
command of the other two himself. Their plan was to make independent
attacks in widely separate areas to help confuse the French to their exact
location; if the opportunity arose to make a larger and more devastating
attack then they would combine their forces for the occasion.

The heavy rain of spring helped their efforts as they worked through
February and March in disrupting the French supply lines and
reinforcements. With the French Supply lines restricted mainly to the muddy
roads the efforts of Thomas's men were made easier and the effects of their
well timed raids began to take a toll on the French army as well as the
nerves of the night pickets and patrols.

Thomas's tactics were simple and direct; set an ambush and leave as much
damage and death behind as could be made. His plan had two benefits; one
was the need for the French to tie up many more troops as column guards,
the other was to unnerve those already in camp by late night attacks so
they were always having to watch over their shoulders for the rebels.

Towards the end of March; Thomas and his men were becoming tired; the
continual strain of fighting their guerrilla style war, the discomfort of
the late spring weather and the need to stay safely hidden when not in
action began to take its toll; it was time to call a halt before he started
to make mistakes that would cost his men their lives.

Thomas gave orders for the men to begin to break camp; Estaban was expected
back in the next two days and they would then move out for safer places and
to meet up with Croxley and his gunners at Guarda. As Thomas waited for
Estaban to arrive; he sat with Jones and went over their reports; as yet he
had not sent anything to the Viscount as he did not want one of his men
lost or captured just for the sake of a written report.

They had been very lucky with this little campaign; there had been no
losses although there were wounded and they had to be taken care of or sent
back to Vimeiro which was too far away for safety. As Thomas stood outside
the small four man tent he had used for this campaign, he looked around at
the men of his command.

After the efforts of the last two months they were really beginning to look
like a rag-tag army. While their arms and equipment for fighting were kept
in top order, the men's uniforms and boots had suffered. They would have to
replace boots and clothing before going to Albuera which now gave him a
legitimate reason to leave the problems of Massena's army behind.

It was almost dusk on the second day after Thomas had decided to leave for
safety when Estaban arrived; his friends men looked little better than the
ones who had stayed back. Estaban had lost three men in the last raid when
they had almost been cornered by a large patrol of Chasseurs and had just
managed to escape because of their riding abilities and having two barrels
instead of one on their muskets.

Thomas also noticed as the Company rode into the mostly broken down camp
that Pablo was sporting a very bloody bandage on his left thigh; he was
sent immediately into the hands of Jervis for help; the other four wounded
were mainly just light flesh wounds but the amount of blood on Pablo called
for immediate attention.

Thomas wanted Estaban and his riders to have as much time to rest as
possible before the long march south. He had told his men to move out one
Company at a time, the first was to leave the next morning with the second
leaving later in the day. They were to head for Villavelha and wait for the
rest to join them there.

With the first Company to leave he sent Jones along with his reports which
he was to take through to Sabugal for the Viscount and then continue on for
the meeting with the others. Thomas told Jones to tell Lieutenant Croxley
and his gunners to move out with the first Company for Villavelha where
Thomas would meet them. Thomas was going to leave with the last Company
along with Estaban and his boys; they would make it one continuous trek to
meet the others and would not stop along the way. Thomas was to find that
even the best laid plans could come undone.

It was dawn on the third day when Thomas, along with Estaban were ready to
leave their small camp site and head towards Villavelha; there was much to
do before they would be ready to meet with Beresford and he wanted time
with his little gang of map makers before going any further towards trouble
in Albuera.

Pablo swore he could travel even though his leg was stiff and he walked
with a heavy limp but he was not going to entrust his mount to someone else
and would not travel on one of the wagons. Thomas had sent off the last of
the wagons with the last Company to leave the previous night; there was now
only his own single Company and that of Estaban and his riders to go; they
would travel light and fast. Lorenco had insisted in staying behind to act
as skirmishers for the last Company; he would not take no for an answer,
the safety of his Patron was far more important than any orders Thomas
could give him.

Lorenco and his men left an hour ahead of Thomas and Estaban; they would
set up a roaming vanguard ahead of the others to keep them all safe. Thomas
watched as Pablo mounted his horse; he could see the grimace on the
youngsters face as he settled into his saddle but thought better not to say
anything to the proud young man; he would just have to keep an eye on him
so his wound did not open up and bleed once again.

On the evening of the second day they made Guarda and; after taking a break
just outside of the town; he led his men through in the dark and took the
road for Sabugal where he planned to spend the next night in readiness for
the longer trek to Villavelha. Unknown to Thomas he was not going to leave
Sabugal in the manner he expected although his men would continue on their
way.

It was almost dusk when Thomas and his men first saw the edge of Sabugal
only a mile or so away. They had kept up their usual pace and were now
tired and ready for a short break before making the longer journey to
Villavelha. Should anyone be watching the approaching men they would have
seen a well drilled group. At the head and out in front were a platoon of
skirmishers who were making the same fast pace as those behind.

Lorenco had pulled his men in closer to the main column as they drew closer
to their objective. Thomas and his company were in three files at the
centre and moving at Battle Pace with Estaban and half his riders taking
guard to each side with the balance of his men riding as rear guard behind.

The tired men had just reached the edge of the town when Thomas saw a black
coach sitting on the side of the roadway; had it not been for the four in
hand set up to pull the coach he may well have ignored it but it was too
unusual for such a light weight coach that he looked closer as he slowed
the column to marching pace.

As the tired men neared the coach Thomas saw why it was standing alone as
though waiting for something or someone. As Thomas drew abreast of the
coach, the small door opened and a familiar portly short figure emerged
with a smile and signalled for Thomas to stop and talk.

Thomas stopped beside the smiling figure of Mister Percy and tried to ease
his aching muscles. While the troop were used to moving at a fast pace, the
distance they had travelled and the lack of rest had the tired column ready
for a good bed and some hot food.

Percy looked at the youngsters as his favourite drummer stopped beside him
while the rest of the men marched past. Percy noted that Thomas looked
beat; his usually smart black uniform was dusty and sweat stained under the
armpits. There was a small tear at the seam of the right shoulder and his
normally smart shiny boots had seen better days; they were obviously due
for replacement.

Estaban stopped beside Thomas and Percy as the last of the riders walked
their horses past the small tableau to find a place to spend the night.

"Hello Mister Percy, what are you doing here?" Thomas asked his friend.

"I've come to collect you. Why don't you ask the Colonel to watch over your
men and take them on to Villavelha; I'm sure he is well capable of doing
that for you."

"But why would he do that. I have to get to my men before we take the trip
to meet Beresford."

"Oh you'll be there in time for that but for now you have to take a small
trip with me. You will be away for a week or so and then you can return and
join your men later."

"What's all this about Mister Percy?"

"You'll see all in good time Thomas but for now I have to ask you to follow
my wishes and relay the orders to Colonel Colosio, we have little time and
must get on the road immediately if we are to make our meeting in time."

"I need to clean up if I have a meeting somewhere."

"You are good as you are Thomas, you can sleep in the coach while we travel
and the condition of your clothes will be of little import where we are
going."

Thomas sighed as he stretched to ease his sore muscles; he knew better than
to try to get anything out of Mister Percy if the man did not want him to
know what was going on. Turning to Estaban he related what Mister Percy had
said; much to his surprise, Estaban just nodded his head and went after the
men who had already entered the town looking for a place to rest and eat.

Percy turned to the coach and went back aboard with a gesture for Thomas to
follow. Once Thomas was seated in the plush soft seat inside the coach, he
felt it lurch forward and then turn to go back through Sabugal; Mister
Percy was sitting opposite him on the backward facing seat and watching
Thomas's expression as the boy tried to get comfortable. Percy did not feel
like telling his favourite young soldier that he would be in the coach for
almost two full days.

Thomas felt the pace of the coach increase as they left the town of Sabugal
and turned to what Thomas thought was the west and north; where they were
headed was anyone's guess. It did not take long for Thomas's tiredness to
catch up with him as the coach now sped over the road at an incredible
speed; Thomas now saw why there were four horses instead of the usual two.

The jostling of the coach had little effect on Thomas as the long hard
march caught up with him; it was not long before his head was nodding and
his eyes grew heavy; even the sound and movement of the coach could not
stop his eyes from closing tightly as he slid to the side and was soon
stretched out on the narrow seat. Percy looked at the boy as he lay on the
seat lightly snoring from sheer exhaustion.

Percy reach across and removed the boys weapons so he was a little more
comfortable; the journey they were now embarked on would require the boy to
be as rested as possible; he only hoped that everyone he had called would
be at the meeting place on time.

It was well after midnight when the coach pulled into a small inn far from
any town; it was one of those anomalies that happened in Portugal where an
Inn or tavern would open seemingly in a place of no business yet seemed to
thrive somehow. Percy shook Thomas awake and helped him from the coach; he
noticed the first thing Thomas did was to look for his weapons. A shudder
went through Percy; this war had turned the innocent young drummer into a
man well before his time; not only that but a man who looked to his weapons
before looking to himself and his own needs.

Percy forced Thomas to eat as they sat and waited for the horses to rest
enough to continue their journey. After two hours and the pair now well fed
and the horses rested, the journey began again at the same fast pace they
had left Sabugal; the young coach driver seemed unaffected by the long
hours of travel as he sat up on his drivers box in the cold night air all
alone.

The coach rattled on into the early morning hours and the miles swept by
under the large wheels. With the four in hand pulling the light coach the
distance was eaten up quickly as they travelled further north and west. At
dawn the coach rolled into the small town of Vizeu and well on the way to
their eventual stop in Oporto.

As the coach pulled into the only tavern in the small town, Percy looked at
the sleeping boy on the other seat; he did not want to disturb the boy so
he called for Kevin to find a blanket to cover Thomas and then see to the
horses; they would stop for four hours and change the horses over for the
last leg of their journey to Oporto; with luck they would make it by
nightfall. It was the 14th of April and he would need the extra day to make
sure everything was in order for the 16th.

Thomas did not stir as the coach stopped; his body was worn out and he
needed rest; the fact he was curled up on an uncomfortable coach seat made
little difference to his condition and his need for rest.

Four hours later and with Thomas still passed out on the seat; the coach
started its journey once again at the usual break neck speed that the four
fresh horses could muster; the tireless Kevin sitting tall on the driver's
seat with both hands holding tight to the long reins as the steel shod
wheels rattled on the rough roadway. The country side was drying rapidly
from the heavy spring rains and the going was far easier as they neared the
better roads of the coastal area.

They had crossed the River Douro and were almost at Gramido in the late
afternoon; there was now just a short fast run to Oporto and the journey
was done; it had been a long, fast and hard run to make the port in the
time they had left.

Thomas had awoken around midday when the coach had stopped for a quick
lunch and another change of horses. Once they were back in the coach,
exhaustion took over once again and he slept through most of the afternoon
run until they were crossing the River Douro and turning west.

Thomas stretched once again as his aching muscles complained about his idea
of sleeping arrangements in the bouncing coach. When they finally reached
their destination at Oporto, Thomas was only too glad to get out of the
confines of the coach and have a good stretch and stamp his worn boots on
solid ground once again.

Percy had already made arrangements for their stay in the small port city
and he had Kevin take the coach to the tavern he had selected for their
stay. As Thomas stepped from the coach in the courtyard of the tavern, he
saw the large figure of Benson waiting for them; Thomas could now see more
clearly that Kevin was related to the larger man.

Mister Percy called to Benson.

"Is everything prepared for the 16th?"

"Yes Sir Colonel, all will be present and your rooms are ready; I'll have
Kevin take the horses while we talk about our friend here and get him ready
for his trial."

"Thank you Benson, can you show our Mister Marking to his room and perhaps
find some hot water for him. If you can also find a seamstress to repair
his clothes while he bathes and rests."

"Yes Colonel. Mister Marking if you will follow me Sir."

Thomas looked up at the towering man and just followed along behind as
Mister Percy went off in another direction; the shorter man seemed to never
get tired and Thomas could not ever remember seeing him anything else but
fresh and energetic at all times; he wished he could be the same but the
long journey and his march from the French had him wanting a hot bath and
soft bed far more.

In one of the rooms in the tavern, the young pot boy was hard at work; his
father, the tavern owner; had said there were very important English
visitors and the pot boy had been given the task of readying a bath for one
of them. He had worked hard carrying the buckets of hot and cold water up
the stairs and filling the wooden bath in readiness and, at last he was
finished.

As the boy was about to leave the small room he heard the sound of heavy
footsteps approaching the room; as he turned when the door opened he saw a
huge man accompanied by a younger teen. The boy's next surprise was when
the young teen talked to him in fluent Portuguese; it took him a little by
surprise as he had been told the men were English.

His next surprise was the way the young teen was dressed. He was dressed
more like a Spaniard than an Englishman and the pot boy now became even
more confused. Perhaps his father had been mistaken but, when the teen
turned to the older man and said something in a language he recognised as
English; the boy could only stare in disbelief. There were so many strange
things happening in his country now that they were at war with the French;
the boy prepared to leave the room to the two strangers but was stopped by
the younger one.

The pot boy stopped as the young Teen reached into an inside pocket and
produced two silver coins; giving them to the overawed pot boy he turned
back to the welcome sight of the hot bath tub; behind him he did not see
the look of gratitude from the pot boy as the lad grasped the valued silver
coins in his small hand as he left the two customers to their room.

Benson saw that Thomas was happy and left the room so the boy Captain could
bath and rest; he would return later in the evening when supper was
ready. When Benson returned to get Thomas, he found the boy snuggled up in
the warm bed and snoring softly; instead of waking him he went back down
the stairs and ordered food to be set aside for when the boy awoke later;
it was not to be until the next morning.

Thomas awoke an hour before even the birds were awake; it was the first
time in two months he had been able to sleep in a soft bed; the fact he was
almost starving made his stomach rumble with need; he was not even sure
what day it was but the fact he had seemed to be sleeping for days only
went to confuse him further.

Thomas slid from the warm bed and looked around for his clothes; he had
fallen asleep naked after his hot bath and did not even know where his
clothes were; he could vaguely remember dropping them on the floor in the
same place he had dropped all his many weapons but they were not there
anymore. Before he could panic; Thomas saw all his weapons resting on a
small side table next to the bed; with another look around the dimly lit
room, he could just make out his clothes folded neatly on a small dresser
set against the far wall.

Thomas went to the dresser and began to don his clothes; they had been
roughly cleaned and the torn shoulder stitching had been repaired as best
as possible. Thomas's boots stood at the end of the bed and an attempt had
been made to clean them but only the purchase of a new pair would see them
bright and shiny once again.

By the time Thomas was dressed he could hear the first sounds of the city
coming awake; his stomach rumbled even louder and it was time to find food
to ease the pain of hunger. The dark smudges under his eyes had faded a
little and his body no longer screamed for rest, all things considered
Thomas felt he was almost back to his normal self; it was time to see what
Mister Percy had made all the fuss for.

Thomas found his way down the stairs and into the main room of the tavern;
he half expected to see Mister Percy waiting for him and was not
disappointed. The short portly man was smiling as Thomas made his way
towards where he sat waiting. When Thomas was seated, Mister Percy called
for the pot boy and ordered breakfast in a quantity that would feed ten men
and then sat back to look at his favourite person.

"Well young Thomas; you look much better."

"Yes Mister Percy, I didn't realise I was that tired."

"You will have to take better care of yourself if you want to return to
England in one piece after this damn war is over."

"I try to but things just seem to happen; every time I think we can all get
some rest, the Viscount wants us to go out again."

"Yes well you know my thoughts on that subject; now then get as much food
into you as you can handle, we have work to do before tomorrow night and
then we can see about getting you back to your men. Have you made any plans
for Albuera and Beresford?"

"Some but until I meet the man I won't know what to fully expect."

"Well young Thomas, my advice is to expect the worst; Beresford is at times
a buffoon and considers anyone below him to be not much more than cannon
fodder so take care when dealing with him."

"Thank you Mister Percy, I shall keep it in mind."

"Good for you Thomas, now here is our food; get stuck in you never know
where your next meal will come from is what I have learned over the years."

Thomas did not need to be told twice as he took up a knife and spoon and
began to devour or try to devour everything on the table with a little help
from Percy. Percy was not surprised by the amount of food the thin boy in
front of him put away; it was as though Thomas had not eaten properly for
weeks; which could possibly be true after dodging the French for so long.

With the meal finally done, Mister Percy waited for Thomas to sit back and;
as all young teens would do, belch loudly as his swollen stomach tried to
hold the huge quantity of food that had been almost shovelled into
it. Thomas sat back with a blissful look on his face; he had not eaten so
well for more than two months and the fact he had almost slept for two days
also helped his present demeanour.

After a short time that let the food settle, Percy looked at his young
friend; he was even more sure now that he had been correct in his
estimation of the boy; it was time to let him into the reason for the
hurried trip.

"Tomorrow night Thomas, I will be taking you to meet some friends but there
are a few things you will need to know before that happens. How good is
your memory?"

"Uhm...I think it is alright Mister Percy, why do you ask?"

"I'm going to tell you a few things that you will have to remember word for
word; we have the rest of the day for you to practice so do not worry too
much. Now then the first thing we are going to do is this."

For the next hour Thomas listened to the older man; what he was hearing
left him almost speechless; surely these men he was going to meet did not
really think he was capable of what they were asking of him. The last three
years had been hard enough but now he was being taken in a direction he did
not understand or even know if he could carry it all out.

At the end of the hour Thomas was even more confused; everything he had
heard so far was beyond the realms of possibility and for the life of him
he could not think why they wanted him involved but Mister Percy seemed to
think otherwise. Thomas had little option but to go along with the older
man's request and try his best to fulfil what was expected of him.

That night it was more relaxed in the tavern as many of the locals filled
the bar and drank late into the night; Thomas took note that there were
very few English in the tavern which; had he known, was the reason Percy
had selected the tavern in the first place. With an early night, Thomas was
soon back in his room and settling into the well padded bed; he would enjoy
this break for as long as he could but; in the back of his mind was the
worry for his men who would by now be in Villavelha waiting for him.

Just before he went to sleep he gave a thought to the ones who had gone out
to make the maps; he sincerely hoped they were safe and even now on their
way to meet him with their results; Lieutenant Smithson was new to this
type of warfare and he hoped he had not made an error by sending him behind
French lines on his first sojourn; his only saving grace was the fact
Smithson had four of his best boys with him for protection.

The day of the 16th was warm and calm as the first days of summer began and
the fighting season opened up new battle problems. Thomas spent much of the
day just lazing around close to the tavern and going through the words
Mister Percy had taught him so he would be word perfect. The reason for
them still confused him but, by now he knew Mister Percy had a good reason
for everything he did.

When the first hour of night had finally fallen; Mister Percy arrived with
his coach and the young driver Kevin. Taking Thomas out to the coach, the
two soldiers got in and the coach moved off towards the docklands of
Oporto. The trip was shorter than Thomas expected and they were soon in a
relatively quiet part of the docks.

As the coach was pulled at walking pace along a narrow cobblestone street,
a man stepped from the side and waved down the coach. Thomas watched as
Mister Percy got out and spoke with the man for a few minutes before
returning to the coach and looking at Thomas with an apologetic look on his
face.

"Thomas, I am sorry but I must leave you here to make your own way to the
meeting; something has come up that I have to see to immediately. If you
would step down here I can show you where to go; it is not far from here."

Thomas did as asked; he had no reason not to trust his long time
friend. Once Thomas was standing beside Mister Percy his eyes were directed
forward.

"Just down there where you can see the lantern with red glass is the
meeting place; it should not take you more than a few minutes to make the
distance. I will rejoin you as soon as possible but those waiting for you
will take care of you until then. Now I must make haste; I'm sure you will
do just fine."

Thomas felt Mister Percy give him a light pat on the back and then return
to the coach. Thomas turned to watch the coach turn around in the narrow
street and then the horses broke into a fast trot as they disappeared into
the dark. For the first time that night, Thomas saw that the street he was
in was quite dark and there was not a single person to be seen; a most
unusual event for a dock street in a time of war.

Something came over Thomas as he looked down to where the faint glow of the
red lamp hung on a small sign which he could not make out. Thomas had long
ago known to take notice of his feelings; especially where his safety was
of concern. Thomas now felt as though he was being watched from somewhere
down the street.

In preparation for any surprises, Thomas slid his hat off his head so he
had a better view of everything around him. First he checked some of the
narrow alleys he could see that went off from each side of the street;
there was something in the night that just did not feel right and; to this
end he unbuttoned his jacket so he could get to his pistols quickly if
needed.

Taking a final gulp of fresh air, Thomas began to walk towards the distant
red lamp; the sound of his steel shod boots rang with a hollow sound as he
kept his eyes moving in all directions. It was an innate awareness built up
over the last three years that kept him on the alert and the feeling of
danger was one of those feelings that he now had.

Thomas had been walking for some distance and was almost half way to the
place where the red lamp hung in the dark narrow street; the sense of
danger in the strangely empty street only increased as he drew closer to
his objective. When the attack came it was so sudden and even though he was
expectant of such an event, he was still taken by surprise; the second of
hesitation was his final undoing.

As Thomas walked quickly past another narrow alley there was a sudden
movement that was too fast for him to react to. Within only seconds he had
been imprisoned with thick strong arms of two men and a black sack was
thrown over his head. As he tried to fight off the strong hands he was
bodily lifted off the ground and; in only seconds both his hands and feet
were tied tightly and the black sack pulled even further down over his
shoulders to trap his arms inside; a thick rope was quickly tied around his
waist to keep the black sack in place.

The next part was even more embarrassing for Thomas, as the rope around his
waist was tied off he was suddenly lifted high and thrown over someone's
shoulder like a sack of flour; it was an ignominious position to be placed
in and he had not had time to call for help even though there was no one
around to render aid.

Thomas quickly found it was useless to try to wriggle out of the position
he had been placed in; whoever the kidnappers were, they knew their
business. Thomas tried to keep track of where he was being taken but; after
a few twists and turns he lost all track, all he could do now was hope for
the best; he was so tightly bound and held that he could not get to even
the simplest of his weapons; he was defenceless and at the mercy of his
kidnappers.

Thomas lost track of time but it seemed like forever as the man carrying
him twisted and turned down unknown lanes and alleys. Thomas began to feel
uncomfortable in his position and the pressure on his thin stomach began to
cause him some little pain as the thick shoulder under him dug into
him. Finally they came to a halt; Thomas had no idea where he was or what
the kidnappers wanted but it boded ill whichever way it went.

The kidnappers had not said a word during the whole event and Thomas
deduced they were well seasoned to this sort of thing; was he being held
for ransom or were they French spies who had been tasked with his capture
and return to French lines so they could take their revenge for all his
bold acts of rebellion.

When they stopped Thomas heard one of the men rap loudly on a thick wooden
door with a solid instrument; it was a code of three knocks, a short pause
and then two knocks. Thomas felt the warm touch of heated air as a door
opened and he was carried inside, the door closing solidly behind
them. Next there was the sound of bare feet on wooden boards; it was now
easy for Thomas to understand how the men had moved so silently; they were
both bare footed; it was the reason he had not heard them coming after him.

Thomas was jostled lightly as they began to walk up a set of stairs to an
upper floor; a code of three spaced knocks then ensued and another door was
opened; Thomas got the sense that the room they entered was quite large as
there was a faint echo to any noise he could hear. Thomas was taken from
the kidnappers shoulder; his feet and hands were untied but the black bag
remained as he was stood on his own feet. Thomas could hear some soft
murmurs in the room but the words were too indistinct for him to make
anything out.

As he stood feeling very alone and vulnerable, Thomas could hear the sound
of feet shuffling and the occasional soft cough; on each side of him were
the two kidnappers holding him by the shoulder to stop any attempts at
escape; Thomas felt very alone and even his knees were beginning to shake a
little at his predicament; it was not a good feeling.

Thomas knew he had been in the room only for a few minutes yet it seemed
like hours before he heard shuffling feet and what must have been a number
of chairs being pulled back on a bare floor; the next thing he heard was a
voice that almost had a familiar ring to it. First there was the sound of
something hard being placed on a wooden surface and the first words spoken
loudly made Thomas relax just a little.

"I be Cap'n Henry Morgan; Proctor of the Black Hand Brotherhood; if there
be any challenge then stand afore me with cutlass in hand."

Thomas was now really surprised; the voice of the old weak man he had met
in the London tavern now sounded strong and commanding as he gave out his
challenge to the others in the room that Thomas could still not see.

Thomas heard the scrape of a heavy chair and something else heavily laid on
the wooden surface.

"Being no challenge I take the first chair."

Thomas waited to hear what else was going on and the next voice did not
only surprise Thomas but gave him a good feeling of safety.

"I be Cap'n Rat, Law giver of the Black Hand Brotherhood; if there be any
challenge then stand afore me with cutlass in hand."

Thomas waited but there was no reply.

"Being no challenge I take the second chair."

Again Thomas heard the scrape of a chair and then a small pause.

"I be Cap'n Peter Morgan, collector of Customs for the Black Hand
Brotherhood; if there be any challenge then stand afore me with cutlass in
hand."

Again the same words were spoken after a short pause.

"Being no challenge I take the third chair."

Again a chair scraped on the wooden floor boards and then the older voice
of Henry Morgan filled the room once again.

"Who takes the fourth chair of the Brotherhood?"

"I, Captain Jean Pierre Baptise take the fourth chair of the Brotherhood."

And so it went as each chair was claimed by men Thomas had never met. There
was a strange feeling in the room as Thomas recognised not only English
sailors but also French, Spanish, Portuguese and others from places he had
never heard of. When the last chair had been taken, Henry Morgan then spoke
to the rest of the room.

"Who takes the thirteenth chair of the Black Hand Brotherhood?"

There was no reply and the room stayed silent until a familiar voice spoke
up.

"I Cap'n Rat call on those present to give name to those who would take the
thirteenth chair of the Brotherhood."

Thomas stood in his blackness and waited while the voices around him talked
back and forth; finally it was Henry Morgan that called a halt to the talk.

"Who among you has names to give?"

There was total silence for a minute or more before Percy spoke up again in
his guise as Captain Rat.

"I have one name to put before the Brotherhood."

"Who be that Cap'n Rat?"

"It be the one who stands before us in darkness; Cap'n Toro."

"Who be it Cap'n Rat; tis a name not known to the Brotherhood."

Thomas felt the two kidnappers release his shoulders and untie the rope
around his waist; seconds later and the black sack was pulled from his
head. Thomas had to blink quickly at the sudden rush of light that hit his
eyes after being in the dark for so long; what he saw before him came as a
real surprise.

Just in front of where he stood, Thomas saw a long wide wooden
table. Seated at the far end was the older figure of Henry Morgan and, on
his right was Mister Percy and to his left sat Peter Morgan. Along the
table were five more chairs on each side with the last one on Thomas's
right being empty. The men who sat along the table were a very strange mix;
there were men from places he could not name and others who were dressed in
a time long gone but all had the look of seamen, albeit rather hard looking
no nonsense types who looked as though they would rather cut your throat
than smile.

Thomas tried to keep his head up as he was looked over by the strange
gathering of rough men; he could now see who his kidnappers had been. One
was Mister Percy's driver Benson; the other was a real surprise for Thomas;
it was the large built inn keeper George; neither of the two looked at
Thomas as they stepped back and then left the room.

"This be your new man Cap'n Rat; he's not much more'n a boy?"

"Aye Cap'n Henry, boy he be but he carries the courage of a full grown man
and is right for the thirteenth chair."

As the two were talking, Thomas looked along the table. In front of each
man lay the black cane with the silver slave head which sat on the left of
a large parchment and to the right of the parchment sat a pistol. The
parchment had a roughly drawn hand in black ink with a large spot of brown
ink at the centre; at the top of the parchment was a name also written in
brown ink.

Most of the parchments looked old and faded with some of them having small
tears or folds in them. The brown spot in the middle even had a number of
old cuts that looked suspiciously like knife marks that had been stabbed
into them. Each of the rough looking Captains stared hard at Thomas as he
stood alone; now Thomas understood the lessons Mister Percy had given him.

Henry Morgan continued.

"He be not of the sea Cap'n Rat, how can he be taking the thirteenth
chair?"

"While the boy stands under the Colours of the King he has also stood on
the main deck and fought for his prize with pistol in hand; I say he takes
the thirteenth chair as he is both of the land and the sea. Should he pass
his trial of blood I say he sits with the Brotherhood."

"Who stands against Cap'n Toro?"

One of the rough men stood up and looked at Thomas. He was a small man of
indeterminate age, his small height led to a strange visage of smooth
yellowish skin and thin eyes that were slanted towards the edge of his
cheeks; he had a single long black braid of hair that hung down his back
and he was dressed in long flowing robes of what looked like fine silk;
Thomas found the small man's accent hard to follow.

"The Lascars stand against the boy; let him prove his worth."

Thomas now began to see where the lessons now fitted in. Thomas took the
single step to the table and; after reaching down into his left boot,
lifted his black baton and placed in on the table for all of them to see;
he then said.

"Here is my mark and symbol of right."

Thomas stepped back as those at the table looked closely at the baton;
there was no denying it was one of their markers. The same small man then
spoke again.

"The Lascars say he is proved."

The man sat down and another rose from the table. To Thomas the man looked
like an old style pirate, long hair hung down past his shoulders and his
garb was at least fifty years old but the man could not have been much past
thirty years, his accent was immediately recognised by Thomas as French.

"I Jean Pierre Baptise of the Floridians say he is yet to prove his worth
by blood; who stands against such trial?"

Thomas waited as the silence continued until Henry Morgan spoke up.

"Cap'n Toro you have the proven mark but do ye have the blood; if it be so
then prove to the Brotherhood it is so."

A fresh sheet of parchment seemingly appeared from nowhere and was placed
on the table in front of Thomas; he could see the black outline of the hand
at the centre and now knew what he had to do as a new quill was placed
beside the parchment.

Thomas picked up his baton, twisted the top and drew out the small dagger;
moving as quickly as he could before he lost his nerve, Thomas sliced his
left hand on the palm and held it over the middle of the parchment. Thomas
watched with a strange detachment as the drops of blood fell on the middle
of the black ink hand; when he thought there was enough, he took up the
quill and began to use the blood for ink as he wrote his new name Captain
Toro, at the top of the parchment.

When he had finished and with fresh blood still dripping from his hand
which he had moved to his side off the table; he quickly stabbed his dagger
into the centre of the parchment so it stuck in the table top. With
everything done as he had been told by Mister Percy, Thomas stepped back
from the table as the rough looking men watched him. Henry Morgan was the
first to speak as he also twisted the top of his cane and produced another
dagger. With a fast and sure movement Henry Morgan stabbed his own dagger
into the parchment in front of him.

"I Cap'n Henry Morgan say Aye."

He was quickly followed by the others with the same actions and words.

"I Cap'n Rat say Aye."

"I Cap'n Peter Morgan say Aye."

"I Jean Pierre Baptise say Aye."

"I Captain Chou say Aye."

"I Captain Achmed Zou say Aye."

"I Captain Pradesh Singh say Aye."

"I Capitan Mendoza say Aye."

"I Cap'n Blood say Aye."

And so it went around the table until all of the men present had agreed;
Thomas was now a member of one of the most secretive societies on any
ocean. The blood rushed to his face as he blushed but also as he still felt
the light trickle of his own blood fall on the bare wooden floor at his
feet; it did not last for long as the small man that had called himself
Captain Chou came to his side with a fine silk handkerchief and bound up
the cut for him as Henry spoke again.

"Brothers we welcome Cap'n Toro to our ranks. Cap'n Toro we ask you to take
the thirteenth chair and join as a brother of the Black Hand."

Thomas took his chair at the end of the table while Chou pushed the new
parchment in front of him after pulling out the dagger and giving it to
Thomas. As he sat down Thomas pulled one of his Manton's from behind his
back and lay it on the table to his right just like the others had done;
his dagger was replaced in his baton and it was laid on his left just as
Henry called out loudly.

"Master of Arms, pour the grog and call for the food; tonight we celebrate
our new brother."

Thomas heard the door behind him open and then saw George and Benson walk
in with large wooden trays on which were thirteen silver mugs; the heady
smell of rum wafted ahead of the pair as they began to set a mug in front
of each of the men seated around the long table; it was not long before a
number of young men arrived with large platters of freshly cooked food and
the celebrations got under way.

After the first two large gulps of the raw rum, Thomas could not remember
much about the rest of the evening. When he awoke the next morning he was
in his soft bed at the tavern with his head pounding and his throat as dry
as a bone. The pounding behind his temple made it difficult for him to open
his eyes to a new day; the problem was soon compounded by a sharp knock on
his door and the cheery voice of Mister Percy calling him.

"Come on young Thomas, time to get moving if you want to meet you friends
at Villavelha; it's almost midday and no time for sleeping like the dead."

Thomas groaned and once again swore he would give up the hard drink that
always seemed to get the better of him; with unsteady steps he got from the
bed and looked for his clothes, it was going to be a long day and he did
not feel at all well.

The trip to Villavelha was made in three days; three days in which Thomas
spent most of the time trying to clear his foggy brain. The rum had been
that used only by the Navy and anyone not used to its potency usually had
the misfortune to spend more than a single day to get over it.

On arrival at Villavelha Thomas was soon back with his waiting men; he was
even more happy to see his little group of map makers waiting for his
arrival. When Thomas stepped from the coach he was very quickly welcomed
back by those who had not known of his detour to Oporto. As Thomas greeted
his many friends; he noted that Mister Percy spent a little time with
Lieutenant Croxley; he also saw Mister Percy give Lieutenant Croxley an
envelope of some sort then pat the man on the shoulder before waving to
Thomas and re-entering his coach to be quickly drive out of sight.

Thomas was glad to be back among his friends and was ready to get back to
work on beating the French. The next campaign was not really to his liking
but he was thankful he had a good two weeks before he had to report to
Marshal Beresford; he wanted to have his own plans ready well before that
meeting.

Thomas did not waste time getting back to why he was there; within less
than a half hour he had his map group in his tent and they were pouring
over the many finely drawn maps that Smithson had worked so hard
over. Thomas could not believe the detail in the work Smithson had done; it
was almost as though he was looking at coloured pictures of the large area
around Albuera.

Smithson had gone beyond just drawing simple maps; with infinite patience
and a natural ability he had produced what Thomas thought were almost works
of art; the details on each paper were so fine that Thomas and his men
would have little trouble in setting what he hoped would be good defensive
strategies.

Thomas and his mapping group spent hours going over the fine maps; Smithson
had written in distances and angles as well as working out the heights of
ridges and small knolls that abounded in the flatter areas of the plains
approaching Albuera. Thomas could only pray he would be allowed to put his
plans into effect when he came under the orders of Marshal Beresford; if
not he and his men could be in for serious problems.

When the time arrived for them to make their way to where Marshal Beresford
had set his camp; Thomas set out his troops in the same fashion they had
always used except for one small alteration that Lieutenant Croxley had
insisted on and would not take no for an answer. Thomas had asked Mister
Croxley why he had to have the extra men around him; Croxley's answer was
simple and to the point.

"We was informed you are now a councillor Mister Marking; we are taking
precautions as asked by Cap'n Rat."

Thomas could find to reply and; even though he did not think it was needed
he could only shrug his shoulders and hope for the best. When Thomas
arrived to lead his men to Albuera he found a number of men well armed and
waiting out of ranks; the ten grown men looked as though they had come from
the worst places in London town even though Thomas knew them to have been
with his little army since the arrival of the gunners so long ago.

The men carried extra weapons; a brace of heavy pistols in their red and
gold sash and; instead of the normal sword, they wore what could only have
been a ships cutlass, a heavy bladed sword that could cleave a man from
shoulder to hip in one blow; the men also carried the normal weapons of the
Battalion.

The ten men had not been part of the gunners but they had arrived with
Croxley and still showed the rolling gait of seamen, they also looked very
tough and determined. The men stood silently as Thomas arrived and glanced
in their direction; he still could not believe that Lieutenant Croxley
thought he would need an armed escort and he felt a little embarrassed at
having the tough looking men watch over him.

When the long column was ready to leave; Thomas could not quite believe he
had so many fighters in his Battalion; with all of his supply wagons they
would stretch the column out to over two miles but, the only saving grace
was that they did not expect to meet any French troops on their
journey. With the Battle lines forming to the north and south at Barrosa
the way to Albuera should be relatively secure.

The column would travel as fast as they could to Elvas and then it would be
a very short march to where Marshal Beresford had his camp just outside
Badajoz; it was here that Thomas would receive his orders for meeting
Marshal Soult and his troops. With the Battle of Barrosa won by Graham only
a few weeks ago there was hope that Marshal Soult would not be prepared for
stiff resistance as he tried to move north to help Massena at Fuentes de
Onoro.

From what Thomas had been told by the Viscount, he planned to attack
Massena well before Soult could come to his aid; it all came down to good
timing and the need for Marshal Beresford to hold Soult and his 27,000 men
back long enough for Wellington to eject Massena from Portugal once and for
all.

Travel to Elvas went far easier than Thomas thought it would; the complete
absence of the French meant he could travel openly although Lorenco's
Sharpshooters always took station about a mile in front of the long column
as a van guard and Estaban insisted on holding the rear with his
horsemen. Once on the outskirts of Elvas, Thomas set about giving his men
two days to rest and check their equipment; it was not a time to get
sloppy. The date was the 25th of April.

Thomas decided not to take his men to Badajoz but instead ride with most of
his Officers and report to the Marshal without showing the Marshal his
small army; Croxley asked to be left behind as he had something he needed
to keep the men training on and Lieutenant Allen also decided to stay to
watch over the camp while the Officers were away; he also mentioned he
would not be happy to far from the Colours.

Thomas left the bivouac with Carmelo, Smithson, Perrin, Jones, Jervis and
Estaban; there was little need for Thomas to worry about his ten man escort
as they just moved up beside the Mounted Officers and got ready to move
fast; the ten men stood five a side of the small group of Officers as they
left their camp site; it was not far to where the Marshal would be awaiting
them.

It was not difficult for Thomas to find the Marshal's camp; it was spread
out over a large part of the plain outside Badajoz and appeared to be well
settled. The pickets let Thomas and his men through although there were
many strange looks from the guards as the small party went into the camp;
Thomas was by now well used to the differences in his men and those of the
English army.

It did not take long for Thomas to find the headquarters of the army; the
size of the tents and the extra guards around the large circle of canvas in
the middle of the bivouac stood out. When Thomas and his friends arrived at
the edge of the circle they were immediately stopped and asked for
identification, the guards seemed to not be too sure of these young
strangely dressed men.

It was obvious to Thomas that no one had been told of their arrival and
when a Senior Officer strode towards them and ask who they were, Thomas
told him but the look of disbelief on the Major's face made Thomas pause;
were the Officers not aware he was coming to help defeat Soult. Thomas
found it hard to believe but he would have to wait until he was finally
taken to meet the Marshal. It soon became obvious to Thomas and those with
him that the Marshal had little if any consideration for them.

The Major led Thomas and his friends to the largest tent in the circle and
asked them to wait while he asked the Marshal if he would see them; it took
only minutes before the Major returned and told Thomas he was not expected
and would have to wait until the Marshal had time for them. It did not
leave a good impression with Thomas but there was little he could do about
it; he, like others, had their orders to follow.

It was late in the day before Thomas was told he could meet with the
Marshal and by this time Thomas and his friends had been waiting for over
six hours; he was not impressed and the attitude he was met with when he
finally made it in front of the austere man only confirmed his own
thoughts. As he and the others stood at attention and saluted the top of
the Marshals head while the Officer was bent over a large map and did not
look up to see who his visitors were.

Thomas heard what he thought was a gruff murmur from the bent head and said
in his best voice.

"Sir, Captain Thomas Marking and Junior Officers reporting as ordered by
Viscount Wellington."

"Hurumph...who...what did you say boy?"

The Major stepped in and spoke for the small group of youngsters; he
sounded as though he also was not happy to have Thomas and his men there.

"Sir, the replacements from the Viscount."

"What...damn it man where have they been? I was expecting them sooner and
all I get is boys and not even in proper dress. Damn it Major this army is
falling apart; no wonder Soult and his ilk are making inroads in our
campaign."



TBC.