Date: Sat, 11 Jun 2016 16:24:25 +1200
From: arthur carkeek <artcart65@gmail.com>
Subject: drummer boy chapter 8

DRUMMER BOY
CHAPTER 8
BY
ARTHUR

CONTACT AUTHOR:
artcart65@gmail.com


Reynaud rode hard through the night; it was imperative for him to make the
meeting place on time or he would lose his most senior spy; he could not
afford to do that.

Unknown to Reynaud; the pace he set was far too fast for his following
Chasseurs; by midnight they had the need to stop and rest. By the time the
Chasseur were back on the road they would be some six hours behind Reynaud;
it was to prove a fatal decision for the Captain and his men.

Twice Reynaud nearly fell from his horse as the early morning hours passed
by; the strain on his body and the need for sleep made his urgent ride even
harder.

Reynaud stopped only once as the sun rose, to eat and drink a light
breakfast; within an hour he was back on his horse and riding hard; he
still had at least ten miles to cover and only a few hours left to make it;
find the rendezvous and settle with the rebel.

The sun was almost at its zenith when he saw the field that he knew was the
one for the meeting. At the far end of the field and close to a wooded
area, stood two people; one an adult holding the red and gold colours of El
Toro and another who looked to be no more than a child.

Reynaud glanced behind him to make sure the two figures could not see that
he was being trailed by the Chasseurs; a half hour gap should be enough to
make sure the rebels would not see them coming.

Reynaud pulled his horse to a stop some twenty paces from the pair waiting
for him. The adult was a man of about twenty three or four; he was dressed
like a Spaniard in comfortable clothes that fit a little loosely. The boy
stood to the side with his hands behind his back and was dressed in far
better clothes than the adult.

Reynaud watched the two for a minute and then stepped from his horse; in
truth he was glad to be off the animal; it had been a long and hard night
and his eyes were bleary with the lack of sleep. Reynaud took a deep
breath; if this was El Toro he would need to keep his wits about him.

Reynaud saw that the man appeared to be unarmed; following suit, he left
his horse pistols in the holsters on his saddle; removed his sword and hung
it also on the saddle; to all appearances he was unarmed; the small pocket
pistol in a sleeve holster would remain out of sight until the Chasseur
arrived.

Before he could walk towards the two; Reynaud saw movement in the deep dark
shadows of the woods. From the shadows stepped four younger boys carrying
what appeared to be a folding table and two folding chairs. Reynaud waited
for the boys to set up the table and chairs before going forward.

The young man with the banner gestured for Reynaud to sit and; after
planting the banner staff into the soft soil; took the chair on the
opposite side of the small table; the young boy stood behind him still with
his hands behind his back as though he was on a parade ground.

Reynaud had once been a soldier and knew the signs although for the last
ten years he had been the head of Napoleon Bonaparte's spies; his military
knowledge had not regressed in the slightest.

Reynaud waited for the young man to speak first; it was the best way to get
information without divulging anything about oneself.

"Mister Reynaud; my name is Ellis. I am here to represent the Patron."

Reynaud was surprised when he heard the man's accent; it was not the
refined accent of the officers but that of a common soldier. Could this
young man really be El Toro?

"Then the rebel is not going to show his face to me, Mister Ellis?"

"He is watching us all the time Mister Reynaud."

"I would like to meet him in person, Mister Ellis; it is not my habit to
talk with other peoples minions."

"Do not worry Mister Reynaud; I have full authority to make our proposal
and; hopefully you will agree to our terms. The alternative would not be
nice for anyone; especially your troops and spies."

"Is that a threat Mister Ellis; if so you should be aware that we French
have more than enough troops to hunt you down and destroy your little
party."

"I make no threat Mister Reynaud; it is just a warning. To give a small
indication, I will tell you that your Chasseurs are still three hours
behind you and will arrive far too late to help you. Now as to your man
Bertrand; you may have him back with one small condition."

"And that is?"

"You take your thirty five spies and leave Portugal; we have eyes and ears
in every camp, village and town that is occupied by the French. If you fail
to remove your spies then we will return Mister Bertrand to you piece by
piece."

"That is a bold offer Mister Ellis considering our armies can scour the
country and eventually find you all."

"Perhaps Mister Reynaud; but I ask you this. How well have you done so
far. Have you had any man woman or child take your reward yet much less
offer any information. No Mister Reynaud; as far as you are concerned, the
man you are hunting could be right under your nose this very minute and you
would not know it. Now do you agree to remove all your spies from
Portugal?"

"It would take me time; but I have to think it over. The options of one man
for all the work the others do is not to be taken lightly."

"That is fair Mister Reynaud; we will give you one hour; I am sure you are
hungry and thirsty from your ride; I will have some lunch brought to you
while you consider your position."

The young man, Ellis rose and walked away with the young boy at his
heels. Reynaud was about to rise and go to look at the banner when he saw
three boys come from the shadows of the woods. One was carrying a large
covered platter, another had a bottle of wine and a goblet. The third boy
carried a small leather bag.

When all three items were placed on the table in front of Reynaud; the
three boys gave him a smile that could quite easily have been a smirk; and
left him to his meal.

Reynaud lifted the platter and was pleasantly surprised at his lunch; he
poured himself a wine; which he noticed was also French and set about
eating and thinking. As Reynaud ate, he tipped out the leather bag; it held
Bertrand's ring, wallet and the gold chain and cross he wore around his
neck; it was proof that he was being held by the rebels.

Reynaud knew he would have to sacrifice Bertrand; he could not withdraw his
other men just at the whim of some low class rebel that was too scared to
even show his face. Reynaud ate and drank slowly; the more time he used,
the closer his Chasseurs would get.

Thomas watched the man from the deep shadows of the woods; he knew the type
of man he was dealing with and had little doubt he would sacrifice the man,
Bertrand; to be able to continue to hunt Thomas and his boys. Thomas almost
prayed the man would not do it; but the style of the French he had so far
met told him otherwise.

Thomas looked around the small band that had stayed with him for the
talks. Most of his boys were now miles away and watching the only place the
Chasseur could cross the river; their ambush had been planned well and
Reynaud would never see his Chasseurs arrive at the field.

When the hour was up; Thomas followed the colour guard Ellis, back to the
table where Reynaud waited for them. The look in the man's eye told Thomas
that his intuition had been right. Reynaud was not about to give up his
entire spy network for one man.

While Thomas was disappointed he knew that Carlito would be more than
happy; the young gypsy had a really bad streak in his soul when it came to
the French. Ellis continued with the talks as though nothing had happened.

"Well Mister Reynaud; what have you decided. Do we return Mister Bertrand
to you in one piece or many?"

"Mister Ellis, you may inform your rebel friend that I must decline his
offer. While I regret having to sacrifice such a good man as Bertrand; I
cannot and will not take my men out of Portugal. My Emperor has given me
orders and I intend to carry them out. Now Mister Ellis; one last warning
for you and the Rebel. I will hunt you down; all of you, and you will all
meet the guillotine. That Mister Ellis I promise you; even the little boy
beside you will see his fate come crashing down on his neck before much
more time has passed."

Reynaud made to reach into his sleeve for his hidden pistol; he would get
one easy shot at Ellis as a reminder and it would also alert his Chasseurs
where he was. As he reached for the hidden pistol; Reynaud readied his feet
to make a fast getaway to his horse; he would be well out of range before
any of them knew what had happened.

Reynaud was fast; he had used the tactic before to great success. As he
withdrew the pistol from his sleeve, he looked up at the smiling face of
Ellis. Reynaud knew he had won this round; that is until he found himself
looking down the two barrels of a pair of pistols the young boy had taken
from behind his back.

Had Reynaud not been the sort of man he was; he may well have shivered at
the look of deadly intent in the blue eyes of the boy; instead Reynaud
could only smile and shrug his shoulders helplessly as he placed the small
pistol on the table. Reynaud looked at the cold blue eyes and said.

"Well young man; one must try; yes?"

Much to Reynaud's surprise; the boy replied in the same rough English as
Ellis had spoken in.

"Yes Monsieur Reynaud; one must try."

Reynaud was suddenly thrown back as one of the pistols fired right in front
of him; he felt the heavy ball strike him high in the shoulder and then he
was sitting on the ground with blood dripping from the wound; the shocked
look on his face would have been comical if the situation had not been so
serious.

"And now Monsieur Reynaud you know that all things are not what they
seem. Farewell Monsieur Reynaud; I am sure we will meet again."

Thomas picked up the small pistol from the table; turned from the injured
man and walked with Ellis back into the woods. As soon as they were well
hidden from the Frenchman; Thomas had his boys mount the cavalry horses
that had been left for them and turned deeper into the woods; they had to
hurry if they wanted to be at the ambush before the Chasseurs arrived.

As the boys disappeared into the woods; Reynaud worked on stopping the
bleeding. He knew it was not a death wound but the pain tried to tell him
otherwise. After stopping the bleeding; Reynaud had time to really think
over the parting words of the young English boy.

Reynaud mounted his horse for the return to Abrantes; it was going to be a
long and painful ride. Reynaud's thoughts turned to the young boy; as he
wondered about the need for one so young to be at the table; the many
reports from early battles in Portugal came to his mind.

There had been no indication of this rebel El Toro before a few months ago;
so, where did he come from? The boy he had seen had; even at such a young
age; an air of authority about him. It would not have been obvious to many,
but Reynaud had seen stranger things in his time.

The report on Rolica came to mind as he tried to stay up on his
horse. There had been a report of a young drummer boy who had turned into
some sort of animal and saved the English colours; could this have been
that boy?

Next was the battle at a place called Vimeiro where again, a young drummer
boy had held the line against seasoned French troops with nothing but a
line of young drummer boys. Was it again a co-incidence? The last report
was from the evacuation of La Coruna; it was the first time that the rebel
had shown his colours and yet he had not actually taken part in the battle.

It was said in some quarters that the mere sight of his army had stopped an
assault on the heights of Elvira; there was only a footnote on this but it
did mention that the ones on the ridge of Elvira had looked to be no more
than boys and they were all drummers.

Reynaud sighed and then winced as his wound jarred when the horse missed a
step; Reynaud had never believed in co-incidence; a slow dawning of
realisation showed on Reynaud's face; the report they had all thought to be
unbelievable must be true.

They had been hunting for a tall well built man, but now Reynaud was sure
he had just seen and talked to the one they were calling the 'Patron El
Toro'. The difficulty in seeing or catching El Toro could now easily be
explained; it was a young English Drummer Boy all the time.

Reynaud swore loudly as the pain of his wound shot through him again; now
he knew what he was looking for it would be so much easier to trap the boy
and destroy the myth once and for all.

Reynaud made sure his horse was turned towards Abrantes; he had work to do;
with luck he would run into his Chasseurs on the way back. They would have
to cross the river Alagon halfway between Abrantes and Villavelha where it
was shallow enough to ford but he was sure they would all meet up somewhere
along the road.

Reynaud would like to have increased his speed now he had some real
theories to work on; however, the pace had to be kept to a walk for the
sake of his wound or he could collapse along the road and never be able to
capture the Rebel.

Thomas and the others rode hard to make the site of the crossing; he knew
they were cutting it fine but he wanted to be there to see it through with
his little army.

Thomas and the others arrived just in time to see a faint dust cloud on the
other side of the river Alagon. The ford here was about belly deep for
horses and was an ideal place for an ambush. From the river's edge on this
side; there was an open stretch of land leading uphill to where his boys
were hidden in the brush and rocks. The distance was about three hundred
paces.

The boys of his army had set up just as they had discussed; there were two
ranks of his normal boys and they were flanked by three of the newly
arrived Portuguese boys at each flank. Beyond the Portuguese boys were the
two small cannon; with round shot they could easily reach the centre of the
river.

The six new boys were a very good addition to his small army. They had been
Cadets in the Portuguese Military Academy in Lisbon and had been training
as Sharpshooters and carried a new experimental rifle. The six Cadets had
been told not to let the French capture the new rifles; while they were not
perfect, they were far better than any musket on the battle field at that
time.

Thomas and his boys had been fascinated by the new rifles and the way they
were so different from anything they had seen so far.

The oldest of the boys and the senior to the others in rank; had taken the
time to show Thomas and all those interested in the rifles; and the many
differences that they had to the old muskets.

The rifles were longer than a musket by three inches giving them an overall
barrel length of thirty six inches. The bore had the new rifling and the
barrel was an octagonal shape and thicker than the normal musket.

At the end that the boys called 'The Breach' it was even thicker still and
the wooden stock was cut down lighter to suit the Cadets. The loading was
what was really new and the powder they used was even better.

The powder was held in a paper cylinder which was twisted at each end. Its
diameter was just smaller than the barrel and would slide down to the
breach without hindrance. The ball was about one inch long and oval at one
end but concave at the other.

The ball was inserted after the powder charge and rammed down as it was a
tight fit and the rifling made grooves in the lead ball. When fired it was
a totally different system. When loading, the hammer was half cocked; this
brought a small pin out from the side of the breach which was attached to
the hammer by a fine spring steel clip.

The powder was dropped down the barrel and then the ball followed; once
ready, the hammer was taken back to full cock. Just before firing the small
thin needle was released and pierced the paper of the charge inside the
breach. The powder was so fine it would leave a small amount to fall into
the flash pan where the flint would ignite it and fire the rifle.

With the better form of powder the Cadets used; they said it would hit a
target at over four hundred paces if the user was trained properly. The
sighting was also new. On the end of the barrel was a short stubby brass
pin with a minute ball on top. At the breach end the sight was a thin plate
with a small round hole in the centre. Below the rear sight was a thin,
triangular strip of metal that was notched up one side.

It was explained to Thomas and his boys that each notch represented one
hundred paces; there were four notches. The new rifles could not be speed
loaded like Thomas boys used; but they were far better for long range
sharpshooting and that was what the six Cadets did.

The powder was hand made by the six boys and the paper cylinders were made
well before hand one at a time. The powder was the normal powder but the
boys would add something they called 'Guano' to it after they ground the
white powder fine enough to be a mist; that and re-grinding the normal
powder gave it more fire power when ignited.

Thomas looked over at the six cadets, three at each end of his two
ranks. The Cadets would wait until the Chasseurs were in the middle of the
river before they would open fire; they promised Thomas they would not
miss.

They had decided to fire one at a time; this way they would be able to keep
up a sustained fire so those who shot first would have the time to reload
before the sixth Cadet fired.

It was estimated the small brass cannon would be able to fire no more than
three or four round shot before the Chasseur were across the river; they
would then load Grape shot and help the two ranks if the Chasseur made it
in any number across the river.

At last he saw the first of the Chasseur come into view; they were in two
columns one on each side of the narrow road. Thomas wanted them to be in an
open formation that they used for a charge or there would be too much
chance of many escaping when the front ones went down.

Thomas looked over at the Senior Cadet; he did not want them to fire just
yet. Thomas then looked up at the two small brass cannon; Estaban had been
given charge of those as he had worked with O'Malley and Mister Sharpe on
learning how to fire them.

Thomas made a gesture with his hands; pointing one finger up at the sky and
then making a curving gesture in a loop; Estaban smiled and nodded his
understanding; he then set about raising the barrels of the two small
cannon as high as he could. It was hoped the solid shot would go past the
river and land in or near the Chasseurs; with luck the Chasseur would then
know they were under attack and reline themselves for a charge on a wider
front.

Thomas held up two fingers, being the signal for only two shots to be fired
as far behind or into the rear ranks of riders; if it failed then they were
in for a long fight; even though they had a good escape route planned; they
did not want to get into a hand to hand battle with Chasseurs for any
reason.

Thomas watched as the Chasseurs stopped to look at the ford; the river was
not fast flowing so their hesitation was only seconds before the first one
ventured into the river; Thomas dropped his hand as the signal for Estaban.

It was plain to see the surprise on the faces of the Chasseurs as the sound
of the two cannon filled the quiet afternoon silence. The two round shot
landed nearly three quarters of the way down the columns. The first landed
on the side of the road and knocked one horse and rider off; the second
landed in their midst and three Chasseur were thrown to the ground and
never tried to get back up.

Thomas signalled again for Estaban to lower the guns just a little and fire
two more shots. As Estaban was setting his two small guns; the Chasseur did
what Thomas had hoped for. Whether it was instinct or their natural need to
attack anything that fired on them; the Chasseur immediately began to form
two lines for the frontal charge; they would storm the crossing and take
the two guns on the rise above the river.

With their lines reformed and ready; their bugler sounded the
charge. Thomas watched as the first rank hit the far side of the river; the
depth must have deceived the Chasseur as they were in up to the horse
bellies in no time; Thomas gave the signal for his six cadets to start
firing.

Thomas estimated they were facing about sixty Chasseurs; the second rank
was eager to follow the first as they closed up to keep within the boundary
of the ford; the cadets began their slaughter. Thomas watched as; after
each shot another Chasseur fell into the water never to rise again; the
Cadets had been true to their word.

Estaban kept lowering the barrels of the small cannon as he forced the
Chasseurs forward; even with the balls landing behind the line of riders;
they still did damage to those not wanting to face the devastating fire
from the other bank.

As the riders fell to the sharpshooters; their horse, now freed from their
riders; reared and turned away from the sound of the guns causing more
mayhem with the men trying to cross.

The river crossing was about fifty paces wide but the Chasseurs could only
move at a slow walking pace as the current and depth of water slowed them
more than they thought it would; Thomas now thought it was time to add a
little more pressure.

Thomas held up his arm and called for the drums. The massed drummers stood
up and began to beat out the Della Guerra while the soldier who was the
colour guard, raised the banner on top of the ridge; now the Chasseurs knew
who they were facing.

The boys on the ridge could almost see the two lines pause as the air was
filled with the dreaded sound that they had been told about by the few
survivors of other meetings with El Toro; a new fear slowly began to instil
itself in the ranks of the charging attackers.

The boys watched as the once straight lines of the Chasseurs began to
crumble; it was becoming a case of survival as more and more of their
number fell to the impossible shooting of the sharpshooters hidden in the
rocks.

The Della Guerra continued on as the Chasseurs tried to make the far bank
that would give them a chance to turn the tables and have open ground to
ride down the attackers.

The losses mounted for the Chasseurs as more and more fell which caused
others to be unsaddled into the deep water and drown under the hooves of
their fellow Chasseurs.

When the first of the riders finally made it to the bank of the river;
there was little let up as those behind tried for the safety of solid
ground; less than half their number made it but now they had only one way
to go and that was forward.

The Officer called for the charge and then suddenly pitched off his horses
and fell under the hooves of those still climbing out of the river.

Estaban loaded his two small cannon with grape; he would only get one shot
off and then would have to pack his two cannon out of the line on the backs
of his mules while Thomas used his own drummers to fire into the thinning
ranks of those who would be left.

Of the sixty Chasseur who had tried to cross the river; there were now only
twenty four left; they formed up into two lines for the final charge but;
even as they did so the sharpshooters never gave up and two more men fell
before the lines were complete.

Thomas called for the drums to be put aside and the boys to ready muskets
and fire by volley on his command. The sudden silencing of the drums seemed
to again unnerve the Chasseurs but they carried on with forming their
charge.

As they thundered over the open ground; they were hit with grape shot and
more fell while others still went down to the sharpshooters.

When the surviving Chasseurs were within range; Thomas gave the order for
volleys; only two riders made it to the first rocks that gave cover to the
boys. The two riders looked down into the massed musket barrels of sixty
boys and dropped their weapons; they both had a tear in their eyes as they
dismounted and put their hands in the air.

Thomas had the two riders hands tied behind their backs and; as none of his
boys could speak French; he made signs for the two to sit and not move; he
left two boys to watch over them.

Estaban arrived with his four mules; the two barrels were slung on each
side of the first, followed by the second and third mule carrying a gun
carriage each and then the powder and shot on the fourth.

"Aah...Patron, a good day to greet the French Puta; what do you wish now?"

"Take the guns home; we will get sorted here and follow shortly. I think we
will need to stay hidden for a little while; that spy master is no fool and
will be scouring the country side for us soon enough.

"Si Patron, it will be done."

The two captives may not have spoken Spanish or Portuguese but they did
understand one word; and that word was Patron; they had all been told about
the name and they could only watch with amazement at the young boy who had
been addressed as 'Patron'; they both dearly hoped they would walk away
from here and be able to relate this new finding.

Estaban got his little cavalcade moving off; they would take three days to
make Vimeiro and needed to go unseen for the whole trip. Thomas looked at
the two captives; he could hear the cries of the wounded down on the open
area.

Thomas felt they had spilt enough blood for one day and tried to indicate
to his prisoners that they would be released to help their wounded once his
young army was on the move. It was Carlito that reminded Thomas of one last
act that had to be played out.

Thomas nodded to Carlito's request and then set about getting his drummers
on the move while Carlito went back into the woods behind them and led out
Bertrand on a horse. The making of a noose took Carlito little time and; as
Carlito slapped the flanks of the horse and then turned to the two
prisoners with a smile that made their bones shiver; took out a large knife
and moved in their direction.

There was only the sound of the creaking rope in the still air as Carlito
bent down and cut the bindings on the two captives; he then made the
gesture for them to go and help their wounded as he turned with a speed
that left the two men with nothing to do but watch where he had been only a
second before.

Before the two captives could get to their feet; Carlito had disappeared;
they were left with a stranger hanging in the tree and the cries of their
own wounded in their ears; of the army of El Toro there was no sight or
sound; they had disappeared just as silently as they had appeared.

Reynaud had been almost sleeping as he tried to retain his grip on the
reins; the sudden far off sound of what he at first thought was thunder;
brought him upright once again at the cost of a little more pain.

It was not long before he could hear the faint crackle of musket fire
interspersed with the louder blast of small cannon that Reynaud knew his
Chasseurs were in trouble. Reynaud knew there was little he could do; he
could not increase his speed because of the pain and he was sure that one
more man would be of little use by the sound of gun fire coming from ahead.

When Reynaud finally made it to the open area in front of the ford; the
first thing he saw was the hanging body of Bertrand; he barely took notice
as he had expected the rebel to keep his word. Next he saw two Chasseur
tending to some wounded; there were not many men left from a patrol of
sixty men.

Of the six wounded there were two who would not make it through to
nightfall; the others would have to be mounted once the two unhurt Chasseur
could round up enough horses to carry them all.

It was late in the evening when a sorry looking group arrived in
Abrantes. Six were Chasseurs of which only two were unwounded, and one was
a civilian who was also wounded. None of them looked happy at their
predicament.

Thomas had given their horses to the six cadets, they would ride ahead to
meet Estaban while Thomas and his drummers would go on foot at their usual
unbeatable pace.

Twice during the next three days, Thomas had to find a place to hide as
large French patrols scoured the country side but; finally, on the late
afternoon of the third day they made it into the safety of their hidden
valley outside Vimeiro; they were all home safe and sound for now.

Thomas kept his boys at home for the next four weeks except for the small
wagon going into the town for firewood and other essentials. Most of the
time; the Spanish boys were out in the country side watching the patrols
and gleaning information to be used at a later date.

The six Cadets also came in handy for this work as they were readily
accepted by their own countrymen and were able to get information that
others would not pass onto the Spanish boys.

It was almost the last day of March when Thomas and his drummers had
visitors that were more than welcome, even if the news they brought was not
the best. Mister Sharpe and O'Malley arrived as usual, just in time for
dinner.

They looked as though they had been living off the country the same as
Thomas's boys. That evening, after dinner; the four of them sat around the
table to talk; Carmelo was an accepted part of all discussions. Much to
Thomas's surprise; he was starting to have strange feelings for Carmelo.

He was not sure what they were; it was something that seemed to be creeping
up on him more each day and he often felt lonely when Carmelo was away
doing other things. Thomas's anxiety seemed to build if the boy was late
getting back to the camp. These were new and strange feelings for Thomas.

The large table was full this night. The Cadets had formally elected the
eldest to be their field Officer; Lorenco was a little embarrassed but he
had done most of the work to form the boys up for the ambush.

There were also the usual group of Carmelo, Estaban, Thomas, Perrin,
Clement and the two older soldiers; Sharpe and O'Malley.

The discussion was mainly on the last ambush of the Chasseurs; even Mister
Sharpe said he could not have improved on it and the results had stirred up
the country far more than the French would have liked.

When the long meal was finished; Thomas showed Mister Sharpe and O'Malley
what they had come up with to speed up their musket loading.

It was a similar cartridge as used by the Portuguese cadets only suited to
their muskets. The paper they used was a little thicker and some boys even
dipped theirs in animal fats to keep the water out.

At the tip was a small twist of fine powder for the flash pan. Once the
flash pan was charged, they bit off the next twist and poured the heavier
powder into the barrel and then dropped the ball in last; one tap of the
butt and they could fire. If they needed to patch their load; they just
left the paper around the ball before ramming it. It was far faster and
meant the boys did not have to search for their powder flasks, ramrods and
ball pouches.

Both older soldiers nodded in agreement; they could see the practicality in
the new idea. When the conversation finally got around to why the two men
were once again in camp; Mister Sharpe told them the latest news.

"Well lad; it looks like General Wellesley is about to return; he has been
cleared on the affair at Sintra and has now been put in full charge of all
allied forces in Portugal. He's going to bring 60,000 men with him and has
even ordered that a number of Brigades be armed with the new rifled
muskets. He will land at Oporto and hopes to push Marshal Soult out of
Portugal for good. His orders are for you and others like you to cause as
much trouble behind the French lines as you can. When he secures Oporto; he
will send a rider to let you know when he wishes to meet with you."

Thomas nodded his understanding of the new orders and was already working
on plans for the disruption of the French forces that may go to stop
Wellesley. O'Malley smiled at Thomas as he reached into the leather bag he
carried over his shoulder at all times.

"I've got something for you; thought you might like to keep a copy so you
don't get careless."

O'Malley brought out a large poster; it was all written in French and had a
sketch of a young boy at the centre. It might have been Thomas but, it also
could have been any young boy in Portugal; only the sword on the boy's hip
gave any real indication.

Thomas could not read French and had to ask Mister Sharpe for a
translation; the words did not really surprise him as much as the amount of
the reward did.

"Well lad, it reads like this.

Attention;

A reward of 10,000 ducats for information or the proven death of the rebel
El Toro; also known as The Patron or Sergeant Major Thomas Marking. Thomas
Marking is believed to be an English Drummer Boy of about 13 years. Payment
will be made on proof of capture or death.

Colonel Marchant Reynaud

French Council

Abrantes.

"So what do you think of that, Lad? Want to make yourself rich and turn
yourself into the Froggies?"

Thomas looked again at the poster; it was a lot of gold but he thought if
it was such a lot then he must be doing something good to upset the
French. His determination just stirred to new heights to carry out his
orders from General Wellesley.

Everyone around the table made light of the poster and even added some
comments that were definitely derogatory to the French and their ability to
catch one small drummer boy.

The night wore on until they were all ready for their beds. Sharpe and
O'Malley were to leave before sun rise the next morning as they had other
groups of Guerrillas to meet and relay orders to.

The next day found the camp at Vimeiro a hive of activity. There were
cartridges to be made in quantity; food to be sourced along with firewood;
and plans for annoying the French as much as they could.

The three youngest Spanish boys now spent a lot of time out of the camp one
at a time. It was far easier for them to move around undetected by the
French than someone older which the French seemed to take a liking to for
stopping and questioning at any time. The younger boys seemed to be mainly
ignored by the patrols.

The six Cadet Sharpshooters now came into their own. Carmelo had made them
each a fine pair of panniers to carry on the backs of the six cavalry
horses they were to use. Each pannier would carry food for five or six days
as well as spare powder and shot.

The Cadets would go out on their own and cause as much trouble as they
could by ambushing infantry or cavalry patrols and then disappear before
they could be caught. With the far superior range of their experimental
rifles; they were able to ravage the patrols almost at will and then
disappear only to do the same far away.

The Cadets were proud of the fact they were able to hit four or five
patrols in one day but in very different locations; the confusion they
sewed in the French ranks was very effective; it also allowed Thomas to
mount larger and more damaging attacks on French camps and supply lines.

It took only a week for the boys to notice the sudden increase in French
numbers and patrols; their tactics were doing just as Wellesley had asked;
they were pulling much needed troops from other areas. Thomas dearly hoped
that Wellesley would land before he started to lose some of his boys; the
French were now irate that the rebel El Toro was in fact nothing more than
a small young English drummer boy.

The long period of hit and run attacks continued well into May. It was on
the 15th of May that the guards at the entrance to their camp in Vimeiro
let through a tired rider dressed in the blue of the English cavalry.

Immediately Thomas came from his tent where he had been resting for the
first time in four days; like the others in camp, the constant fighting
against the French patrols had now taken a toll on their reserves; it was
time to take a break for a few days.

Thomas asked the Cavalryman into his tent; Carmelo appeared with cold food
and some wine for the rider as he sat at the small folding table Thomas
used for planning.

The surprised look on the young riders face when he saw that the man he had
been sent to collect was only a young boy; made him doubt he was in the
right place or with the right person; he had expected an older and well
seasoned fighting man.

"Aah...Sergeant Major Marking?"

"Yes."

"Oh... sorry Sergeant Major; I was expecting someone a little older."

"They all say that. Now what do you have for me?"

"Yes...well the Generals compliments Sergeant Major. He would like to meet
with you on the 20th at Moncorvo near the River Douro. He asks that if you
have any special requests for equipment, that you make a list and I will
take it back with me so it can be prepared for when you arrive at
Moncorvo."

"Thank you. When do you wish to start back?"

"Before nightfall Sergeant Major."

"Then take your time and rest, I'll get the list ready before you go and
tell the General I will meet him on time."

Thomas turned and left the tent while the rider set about eating and
drinking. Thomas had a lot to do and called his closest friends to a
meeting. An hour later and they had their list; it was not so much a list
of needs but more a few suggestions as to how the boys could do more damage
to the French if they had certain things to help them.

The rider left well before dark; he had been given one of the cavalry
horses taken from the French as a spare horse; he did not want to leave his
own horse in the camp.

When Sergio returned from his three day trip out in the country gathering
information; he told Thomas that the French forces were on the move. He had
heard a story that the English and Portuguese forces had won a great
victory at Oporto and the French Marshal had run in retreat back into
Spain.

In preparation for the ride to Moncorvo; Thomas put the camp in the hands
of Carmelo, Perrin and Clement while he was gone. Thomas would take Estaban
and his three boys along with the six Cadets and the four mules to carry
anything back from his meeting; Estaban was to carry their colours.

The plan was for Carmelo and the two Corporals to continue to cause trouble
for the French as they retreated back into Spain. Thomas made sure that
they understood they were not to stand and fight but continue as they had
been with hit and run attacks.

The eleven boys would ride to Moncorvo so they would be in time for the
meeting; they also knew they may have to hide from any French patrols they
came across; they could not afford to be taken captive at this stage of the
new invasion.

Much to Thomas's surprise; their ride to Moncorvo was without trouble; the
few patrols they saw were more interested in getting back to Spain than
chasing the invisible rebel El Toro.

Thomas and his friends arrived in the town of Moncorvo in the evening of
the 19th; it did not take long before he found the tent of General
Wellesley. Thomas was also thankful to see the familiar face of Captain
Lewis whom he immediately noticed was now a Major.

Major Lewis smiled at Thomas and his friends as they rode into the small
town looking a little worse for the wear of the long ride and having to
stay away from the French patrols.

Major Lewis showed Thomas where they could put their mounts and then took
them to a small house that had been put aside for them to rest; his
appointment with the General was for early tomorrow morning and he and his
friends needed a good rest before that happened.

Thomas appeared good and early for his meeting with the General; the other
ten boys were by his side when Major Lewis appeared from the Generals tent
to usher them inside.

Thomas had carried his Drummer uniform with him for this meeting; he wanted
to appear in the correct dress for his General.

When he got inside, the General was talking to three other Officers; Thomas
came to attention and saluted the Officers then waited for his orders.

General Wellesley dismissed the three officers and turned to Thomas with a
smile.

"Well Drum Sergeant Major; I see you have managed to survive in good
health. I must thank you for all you have done for us; without your boys
and others like them, our task would have been greater but; as it is we
have the French on the run back to Spain. Very soon we will go after them
and push them right out of the country. I need you to continue with your
attacks behind their lines. Shortly Mister Percy will want to talk with you
but; before then I have something for you so that you know we have been
watching your small force for some time and the results you have brought
us."

The General looked over his table until he found what he was looking for;
lifting the paper up he read it out aloud for Thomas.

"This is the order for your field promotion to the rank of Lieutenant; when
you return to your drummers you will have to select new Sergeants and
Corporals. You will need a Sergeant Major, two Sergeants and four
Corporals. There are more young troops for you to take back with you to
enlarge your force and cause even more harm to the French in the coming
months."

The General paused as he thought about something then continued.

"When we are finished here; you may go to the Quartermasters and he will
have your new uniform ready for you as well as a few things you
requested. Unfortunately there will also be a reporter from the Times who
wants to speak with you about what you have been doing while awaiting our
return. You can tell him most things about the past but nothing of what we
are planning in the future. You will have to move your men to a new camping
position. Your present one is a bit far away now that we are going into
Spain. I would like you to find somewhere safe in or around Almeida or
Guarda; there should be good hiding places up in the Estrella. Major Sharpe
has a place in that area; perhaps he can help you; he will be here this
afternoon. Now then Lieutenant; if you will excuse me; both of us have a
lot to do; your new drummers will be on the other side of town for you to
inspect when ready."

Thomas had not said a word; he saluted; took the copy of his orders and;
along with the other boys left the tent to find the Quartermasters
stores. Thomas did not know it at the time but; it would take him four days
before he was ready to leave the small town of Moncorvo; the outfitting of
his new drummers and the need to get as much information from Mister
Sharpe, held him there longer than he would have liked.

Thomas arrived at the Quartermasters store and saw that the Sergeant in
charge was a new man; he was thankful he would not have to deal with the
one from before.

When Thomas gave the Quartermaster his copy of the requisition orders; the
Sergeant looked up at him from his desk and smiled before saying.

"Well bless me, it's true. When I saw the Generals orders I had me doubts
about your age. So Lieutenant; are you ready for your new uniform?"

Thomas smiled at the friendly words and attitude of the Sergeant and nodded
his head. The Sergeant went to a shelf and took down a pile of clothing and
a pair of black boots; there was also a small pillbox hat with a chin
strap. Thomas much preferred his flat crowned Spanish hat.

"Well Lieutenant; they say you were raised from the ranks like that there
Captain Sharpe was. If you would pardon me for saying so; I would watch me
back with the other Officers. They all paid for their commissions and can
be a bit picky when it comes to someone from the ranks being raised."

"Thank you Sergeant, but it's none of my doing; the General did it so I
have to follow orders like everyone else."

"I can understand that Sir; but just be ready for them is all I say."

"Thank you; I will try to keep my nose clean around them."

"They may not give you the chance Sir; many of those Officers paid good
money for their commissions; they think it is a liberty for someone from
the ranks to get it for free."

"Well there's nothing I can do about that Sergeant; I'll just stay out of
their way as long as they stay out of mine."

"If I may say so one more time Sir. It is normal for new young Officers to
be invited to the mess one evening so they can be introduced. If you get an
invitation I would be inclined to carry some coin with you. The officers
will expect you to pay the mess bill for drinks. Now begging your pardon
Sir, but some of them Officers are more fish than man when it comes to the
drink; if you get what I mean; Sir."

"Again my thanks Sergeant. Now I'm told I have some new recruits to find; I
will need some new stores for them as well; do you mind if I take a look
around your stores?"

"You are an Officer now; you go right ahead and look all you want. If you
have some idea of what you will want for your new recruits I could perhaps
start to get it ready?"

Thomas was glad of the Sergeants help as he related the needs he would have
for the new boys. As he walked through the large stores tents, he saw
something that struck a chord in his mind. Stacked to one side of a tent
were large wooden boxes. The top box was open and Thomas stopped to look
inside; what he saw made him smile as he turned to the Sergeant.

"Sergeant; those boxes of new muskets; I see they are wrapped in a waxy
paper."

"Aye Sir; the paper is to stop the rust from getting on the barrels. Mind
you the damn paper is a nuisance; have to burn it once the muskets are
issued out; no damn use for it; seems a waste to me though."

"If I could make use of it, would you have it collected for me?"

"Well there is a lot of it; we was going to have a fire tonight; we just
unpacked four hundred muskets this morning. You're welcome to it if that's
what you want."

"Thank you again, Sergeant; I'll take everything you have; can you keep it
aside until I have a wagon for it?"

"Yes Sir, I'll have the men pack it in bundles to make it easier to
handle. May I ask why you want it Sir?"

"It is something we are trying out for loading our muskets. There is one
more thing Sergeant."

"Yes Sir?"

"Those large black belts with the pouch on the front; what are they?"

"Those Sir; well they are bandoliers for the 7th Hussars; the cavalry
Sir. They keep their powder and shot for their pistols in them. Why do you
ask, Sir?"

"They would be just what we have been looking for. Do you have about one
hundred and twenty to spare?"

"Now that Sir I am afraid I cannot do. See those are all for the Cavalry
and you can well imagine what they would do if they saw someone else
wearing them; what with their own badge being affixed on the front of the
pouch."

"Oh well it was just a thought; I will have to look for something else
then."

"Is it real important to you Sir?"

"It would make our work just that much easier Sergeant."

"Well Sir; it has just come to mind that there were some discrepancies in
their delivery now I come to think on it. Seems two crates were lost when
the ship docked; perhaps they got missed in the loading. Some one hundred
and twenty if my memory serves me right. Still they would be no good for
anyone; the badges would give them away were they to be used."

Thomas almost laughed at the twinkle in the Sergeants eyes as he replied.

"Well Sergeant; perhaps I should keep my eyes open in case they turn up; I
suppose it would not take much for the badges to fall off if you were not
careful?"

"You may have the right of it Sir; I will keep my own eyes open for them as
well. Now Sir; how will you be wanting to move your equipment?"

"I have my mules with me but, with the new recruits I would need another
two wagons; there is powder and shot to collect from the armoury yet."

"Well Sir; I did hear tell of a couple of wagons laying around the
infirmary that were not in use; perhaps they will fill your needs."

"Thank you again Sergeant; I will look into it. Now the last thing is for
the new recruits; I will need to outfit them before we leave for our camp;
will tomorrow morning be a good time for you Sergeant?"

"We'll be ready and waiting Sir; just bring the scoundrels over and we will
get them kitted to your satisfaction."

"Thank you again Sergeant; I will see you tomorrow morning."

"Yes Sir."

Thomas left the friendly Quartermaster to his stores and; accompanied by
his patiently waiting Cadets; went to find the new recruits that were
somewhere in the large camp.

It was as he was looking for the recruits that he decided to send Pablo
back to Vimeiro for the others and so sent Estaban with the message back to
the small house they were using. A meeting place was arranged where he
would meet up with them all at Guarda and they would then decide where they
would go to make a new camp.

The recruits were found in a field just outside the town; Thomas was not
impressed at first sight of the temporary camp. The recruits were sitting
around with nothing to do; their tents were placed in a haphazard way with
little order to them.

As he approached a group of four drummers that seemed to be friends; he
heard the strong lilt of the welsh coming from their throats. The boys were
large for their age and had a toughness about them. One of the four looked
up as Thomas drew nearer.

The boy suddenly showed a look of recognition as Thomas was almost upon
them; jumping to his feet his welsh lilt echoed through the camp of
drummers.

"It's him boys; I told you he would be coming; get out here and form ranks
you bloody heathens."

Thomas was taken aback by the sudden flurry of activity; it seemed this
Welsh boy had the confidence of the others as they ran to form ranks.

"Sergeant Major Marking, we've been waiting for you; what do you want us to
do now?"

"First, what is your name Drummer?"

"Volunteer Drummer Trent Sergeant Major. We are all volunteers Sergeant
Major; well except for those Jack Tars over yonder. When we saw all the
news about you in the papers some months ago we all volunteered to come
here; we hoped to be put with you and the others so we can fight and not
just beat these confounded drums all the time."

"Well it's fighting you'll get if I take you with me Volunteer Trent. Now
first thing; you seem to have the other's respect; as of this moment you
are promoted to acting Corporal. I want you to take these others to the
armoury and wait for me there. You can leave your drums in your tents for
now."

"Yes Sergeant Major. Alright you lot; you heard the Sergeant Major. In
columns of three; quick march."

As the recruits began to march out of the small camp; Thomas pulled Trent
to the side for a moment.

"Corporal; it's actually Lieutenant now; I just haven't had time to
change. Now make sure you hold those recruits in order until I get there."

"Yes Sir, Mister Marking they'll be waiting in order Sir."

The new Corporal saluted as he would any Officer and followed his recruits
towards the armoury. Thomas turned towards the separated tents of the navy
personnel. There were fifteen young teens and boys waiting in a group for
him to arrive. It was easy to pick out those of rank and those without.

While Thomas had no knowledge of the Navy or its ways; he was astute enough
to realise what he knew and what he did not know; it was time to learn
something new.

When he came up to the group; one of them; a teen of about fifteen; called
for the others to form rank for inspection. Thomas watched as they all
lined up; it was now easier to see who was senior to whom.

The first six boys all wore waist length blue jackets over white shirts
with white knee length trousers and white hose. Their footwear was a pair
of black low shoes with a brass buckle on the toe. On the teens heads they
wore a round black hat made of stiff leather that had a dark blue ribbon
attached; each of them wore a cutlass at their side and a single pistol on
their wide black leather belts.

Next to them were six boys who wore a blue and white striped jerkin; their
hat was made from a fine cane with the same ribbon as the others. Their
trousers were made from a heavy canvas and were cut off at the knee; their
shoes were also black but only had a tin buckle; their weapons were the
same as the first six but not of the same high quality.

The last four were only young boys; perhaps no more than ten or eleven
years old. They wore a stocking cap; white shirt and the same white knee
length trousers; they were also bare footed and carried only a small knife
on their rope belt.

Thomas stopped in front of the one that looked to be the senior of the
teens.

"I'm Lieutenant Marking; I didn't know we were having any Navy personnel
here."

Thomas saw the teen looking him up and down; again he had forgotten he was
still wearing his old uniform.

"I'm sorry; I just got my promotion and haven't had time to change."

"Oh I see, very well Sir; I'm Midshipman Scully. From what I have heard
Sir; your General asked the Admiral for volunteers to man the guns for you;
we have all volunteered from different ships. If you would like to meet
them all Sir?"

Thomas nodded and went down the line with the Midshipman as he introduced
the others. Thomas found out that he was now in charge of six Midshipmen;
six Gunners Mates and four powder monkeys as the smaller and younger boys
were called on the ships.

"I see Mister Scully that you have the men but I don't have enough guns for
you; I have only two small cannon and I think you may have too many men for
those."

"Don't worry about that Mister Marking Sir, we brought our own guns; they
are stored in those two ox wagons behind the tents."

Thomas looked behind the line of tents and saw two wagons standing with
thick canvas covers stretched over them; nearby were four large oxen
grazing.

It looked as though he was now in for a real war with all the new recruits
and weapons he was being given; he hoped he would be able to live up to
what the General wanted him to do. The weight on Thomas's shoulders just
seemed to get heavier.

Thomas looked at the fresh faces of the Navy boys; he wondered if they
really knew what they getting into. It would not be like being on one of
their great ships and they would need good land legs to keep up with his
boys. Another thought crossed his mind; they would have to get rid of the
oxen as they would be far too slow for Thomas's style of movements. It was
just one more thing he would have to tend to.



TBC.