Date: Sat, 18 Jun 2016 00:22:33 +1200
From: arthur carkeek <artcart65@gmail.com>
Subject: drummer boy chpt 9

DRUMMER BOY
CHAPTER 9
BY
ARTHUR

CONTACT AUTHOR:
artcart65@gmail.com


Thomas took a last look around the Navy camp; it was orderly and neat,
something his new drummers would have to learn about in the future.

"Mister Scully?'

"Yes Sir?"

"Is there anything you need from us before we leave for our new camp?"

"Well Sir, there is the matter of placements for our guns; perhaps we can
show you in the morning and you will understand better. I have been told
you have to meet the General at the Officers Mess today and there is little
time left."

"Yes I do have to go soon. I will tell my drummers to break camp tomorrow
morning and, if it pleases you; perhaps you could do the same and re-camp
closer to my own house. It is at the far end of the village; you can't miss
it; we will be flying our colours. Once there we can then go over
everything you may still need. For now I have to go and get my new Drummers
armed."

"Very good Sir; I will see you in the morning."

"You won't be coming to the Officers Mess, Mister Scully?"

"Not as yet Mister Marking; us midshipmen are not yet full Officers; our
rank stands somewhere between the ordinary ranks and that of a Junior
Officer. What you might call a cadet Officer Mister Marking."

"Well we'll soon change that once we are back at our camp and away from all
this hooha."

Midshipman Scully could not help the short bark of laughter that came from
his mouth at the irreverent words of the young Subaltern.

Thomas hurried away to find his new Drummers at the armoury; he still
needed to get back to his cottage to change for the Officers Mess. While he
did not really want to go; a Junior Officer never refused the directions of
a General; he only hoped there would be some familiar faces there.

When Thomas arrived at the armoury; he was pleased to see the same Sergeant
still in charge as he had been the last time Thomas needed weapons.

Handing the orders to the Sergeant; Thomas began to tell him what he wanted
for the new recruits. Once the orders had been given; Thomas knew the
sergeant would carry them out to the letter. Thomas needed to get back to
the cottage and change for his meeting in the Officers Mess.

Thomas left orders with the newly made Corporal Trent to take the Drummers
back to camp and then to make sure they were moved close to his cottage in
the morning. The field out the back of the cottage would be large enough to
have space for all the newcomers and the Navy gunners.

On his return to the cottage; Thomas saw that Estaban had raised the red
and gold of their colours; as was needed, the Union Jack flew alongside;
not many noticed that the red and gold flew just six inches higher than the
other flag; it was Estaban's way of giving title to Thomas over that of the
English.

In the small bedroom that had been set aside for Thomas's use; he saw that
there were in fact two uniforms laid out on the bed; this now created a
little confusion as to which one he was meant to wear for the Mess. Thomas
had never really taken notice of Officers uniforms and so he had little
knowledge to help him; he was finally saved by a gruff but familiar voice
behind him.

"Well lad, I hear you joined the toffs; I would lay me silver you are real
happy about that."

"Not at all Mister Sharpe; I was quite happy before they started all
this. What do I do now and why do I have two uniforms; seems a bit of a
waste to me Mister Sharpe?"

"Well lad, the coat with the tails is your everyday one; the other short
one is for formal dress like in the Mess. Do you want some help; I've
nothing to do but wait to escort you to the Mess."

"You are taking me, Mister Sharpe?"

"Yes lad; or should I say Lieutenant now; was the Generals orders just to
make sure you didn't forget."

"Well I suppose I could do with the help." Mister Sharpe smiled at Thomas
as the boy looked at the two new uniforms.

The one for everyday wear was the normal long tailed jacket with white
trousers, black boots, pillbox hat and white shirt and waistcoat. Its
lapels were trimmed in a gold colour cloth and it had the usual array of
gold braid for a 2nd Lieutenant or Subaltern as they were more often
called.

The other uniform was made up with a familiar Bolero style short jacket
with long sleeves; black trousers with a dark maroon stripe down the legs;
black shoes that many called 'pumps' and a red sash for the waist; there
was no hat so Thomas knew he just wore the same pillbox as the daily
uniform.

The only addition was a canvas sash that had been bleached as white as
snow; it went over his shoulder and had been sown to take his sword
scabbard. Thomas looked at everything and decided he was going to make a
few changes whether the Officers liked it or not.

There was one thing that caught Thomas's eye. At the centre of the white
sash for his sword was a bright brass medallion; it was quite plain except
for the letters engraved into it.

The medallion had the small letters d and c, one each side of a capital A;
in the centre of the A was the numbers 1st. Thomas stood looking at it for
a moment before asking Mister Sharpe about it.

"The General thought you should have your own badge of service lad; it
stands for the 1st Drum Corps Auxiliary. Now that you have a full company
of men the General felt you should have your own badge of recognition. If
you look closely at your epaulets you will see a small version on them as
well."

Thomas looked closer at the epaulets on the two jackets. Below the braid on
the daily wear jacket he saw the same small badge and; on the epaulet board
of the Mess jacket it also had the badge just above the single braid fringe
on the left shoulder.

Thomas now understood a little better; the single epaulet denoted him as a
Subaltern, or 2nd lieutenant; if he ever reached the rank of 1st Lieutenant
he would have braid or fringed epaulets on both shoulders.

Thomas began to change clothes; his old and well worn Sergeants uniform
would have to be returned to the Quartermasters stores; the Officers
uniform would always remain his as it would come out of his pay of which he
had not yet received a penny for all the time he had now served; nothing
unusual for the army.

Thomas did not really need to worry about money; the boys in his little
band kept all they could scour from their defeats of the French; Thomas had
now got past his aversion to loot; had he not he would have been in dire
straits for money by now.

"Now then Mister Marking; you will need to take a few coins with you if you
have any; it is the custom for a newly promoted Officer to pay for the Mess
bill for the evening. Do you have a few coins to take?"

"Yes Mister Sharpe; the boys have always looked after me in that regard."

Thomas went to his small bag and took out a leather purse that looked to be
quite full. Searching inside; he finally extracted ten gold ducats and
slipped them into a tiny pocket inside the jacket.

Mister Sharpe had frowned when Thomas had fitted his underarm holsters and
pistols before donning the jacket but the man said nothing. It was
obviously the boy's habit and was better left alone. Next Sharpe watched as
Thomas put on his normal Spanish boots instead of the accepted light shoes.

Lying on the bed was a new Officer's sabre; Thomas took up his shorter
sword that he was far more familiar with and slipped it into the white
bandolier as he settled it over his shoulder. Thomas took up the unfamiliar
pillbox hat; it was then he noticed it also carried the new badge; settling
it on his head he looked up for Mister Sharpe's approval.

"You will need to put your waist sash on lad."

Thomas looked at the plain red sash; he ignored it and instead took up his
slightly worn red and gold sash and began to place it once again around his
waist; there were two noticeable, small, dark splotches near the
centre. Mister Sharpe just shook his head as he watched Thomas replace the
official sash with his own.

"Only one thing more Mister Marking; those trousers should not be inside
your boots; they have to be worn on the outside. Better fix that up."

"But Mister Sharpe; I won't be able to get to my..."

"You won't need them lad, the sharpest thing in the Officers Mess is their
tongues and you will have to give up your weapons at the door to the Mess;
its regulations."

"Give them up, Mister Sharpe. All of them?"

"Well yes lad; all of the ones that can be seen anyhow." Sharpe smiled at
Thomas; he himself never went unarmed in any situation so did not press the
point. If they were ever found out it could be put down to the fact that
they were only raised from the ranks, so what would you expect from the
lower classes.

Sharpe hoped that Thomas would be able to keep his temper in the Mess.  The
lad had grown up fast in the last few months and many of the new Officers
that were now in the army had not been there during Thomas acts of
heroism. Only one or two of the old guard were still with the General for
this new invasion.

"Well you look as ready as you ever will be lad; have you been practicing
the sign language we taught you?"

"Yes Mister Sharpe; all the boys can use it now and all of them are very
good at Spanish as well. Most of the talk in the camp now uses Spanish all
the time; it's sort of second nature with all the Spanish boys around; some
are even learning the Portuguese language from the new Cadets."

"That's good, now if you feel threatened by any of the new Officers; use
our sign language to talk to me. You and I will be the only ones who know
it; well unless Percy is there; he's the one who taught us years ago. Now
you ready for the Lion's den?"

"Can't be any worse than the French Mister Sharpe."

"I wouldn't put my life on that Mister Marking; just keep your head and let
me do the talking if it gets a little out of hand; some of those young
Officers are a bit above themselves at times."

Thomas nodded as he once again checked himself over; he was all ready to
make his first appearance with the toffs of the new army.

As they were about to leave; Mister Sharpe stopped and looked at Thomas one
more time and then said.

"Where's your bar and ribbon lad?"

"Oh them, I don't wear it Mister Sharpe; I think they are in my bag
somewhere."

"Better get them out lad; not the done thing to go into the mess without
your fancy ribbon."

Sharpe tried to ignore the muttering of swear words that came from Thomas
as he went to his bag and began the search. When he finally found the
ribbon with the single silver bar that had the name 'Rolica' engraved on
it; Thomas turned back to Mister Sharpe.

Sharpe took one look at the ribbon and reached into his jacket pocket.

"You got a couple of more bars to put on there lad."

Sharpe took out two more silver bars; one had the name 'Vimeiro' and the
other had 'La Coruna'. Mister Sharpe attached them below the original one
and stepped back to look at his charge after he pinned the ribbon on the
left breast of the boy's jacket.

"Now then, it's all done' let's get to it. Don't want to keep the toffs
waiting."

As they walked to where the Officers Mess was located; Thomas felt
partially naked without his brace of Manton pistols; the Mess Jacket was
just too short to hide them from view but he took comfort in having his
pocket pistols under his arms and he still had the two knives in his boots
if he needed them.

His arm sheaths also had to be left behind as the long sleeves of the Mess
Jacket were too tight to be able to get to them. Thomas now knew he would
have to hand in his sword at the door of the Mess; the pistols were out of
sight so he might be able to keep them.

The Officers Mess was located beside the largest building in the town. It
had been the Mayor's home but now was converted into the Officers
quarters. To the left was an enormous marquee that held the Officers Mess
where they came together to drink and eat.

Thomas noted that the dirt under the marquee had been covered with
duckboards and then a thick carpet had been overlaid on top.

At the door of the marquee stood four Privates in their best kit and a
Sergeant Major; they were the guard detail to stop any unwanted soldiers
from trying to enter the sanctum of the Officers.

The Sergeant Major and the Privates saluted the two as they arrived at the
opening into the tent. The Sergeant Major then asked for their weapons to
be laid on a nearby table where many more were set.

Thomas removed his sword as did Mister Sharpe; thinking he was going to be
able to keep his pistols; Thomas made no attempt to pull them out; a soft
whisper from Mister Sharpe soon told him different.

Thomas gave a heavy sigh as he reached into his jacket and took out his two
small pistols; laying them on the table he saw the surprised look on the
face of the Sergeant Major and even felt a little pleasure at the older
man's look.

The two, now supposedly unarmed; entered the large marquee to the sound of
laughter and boistress play of the Officers Mess. There was the thick heady
smell of tobacco from the new cigars that were beginning to become popular
by the officers.

It did not take Thomas long to realise there were certain cliques among the
Officers. A small group of more senior Officers were standing to one
side. As he glanced their way, Thomas received some nods and smiles of
recognition; they were the old brigade and knew all about him; many even
raised their glasses to him.

The rest were all new faces and had gathered in their own cliques. The
junior Officers were in one place; the more Senior Officers were standing
in a group in another place; and the most Senior Officers of the new
arrivals were in another group.

Thomas watched as each group moved around. It was always up to a more
Senior Officer to move into a group of lesser ones and not the other way
around; Thomas found it much like the pecking order with chickens.

As Thomas and Mister Sharpe walked into the mess, there was a sudden
silence as the Officers looked at the pair. It was obvious they were a bit
of a show with Mister Sharpe being a Major and Thomas a newly raised ranker
as well as being a very young boy although here were many times he felt far
older than his nearly twelve and a half years.

After a few seconds; Thomas heard the subdued voices begin to talk about
the pair. Mister Sharpe just ignored them and walked to the bar for drinks
while Thomas watched and listened. Thomas began to hear remarks that
started his blood to warm up but; thinking on Mister Sharpe's words; he
tried hard to keep his feelings out of it; a difficult task for a young
soon to be teen that had his emotions running wild at the strangest of
times.

Thomas watched as two young Subalterns walked towards where he stood
alone. Thomas was not afraid of them but he did think they might be up to
no good as they both wore the faintest of sneers on their young faces. Both
young Officers looked to be no more than nineteen or twenty years old and
the newness of their uniforms told Thomas they had not had their
commissions for very long.

The two young Officers stopped in front of Thomas and looked him up and
down. After taking a sip of their liquor, they smirked at Thomas before one
said.

"You do realise that you are in the Officers Mess and not a school room,
don't you old chap?"

Thomas looked at the pair and instinctively knew he was being baited like
some fighting dog; before he could answer, the second one said.

"Do you know you are out of uniform laddy?"

"And how would that be?" Thomas replied with a touch of bitterness in his
voice.

"See Chalmers; just like I said; a ranker. They shouldn't let them in here
with real Officers; don't you think?"

"Exactly Webster; the army is going downhill fast. Look the boy has the
wrong sash and not only that but it's not even clean; shame really. Lowers
the whole standard, next thing they will be promoting goats to the Mess."

Thomas's emotions were now running wild even though he tried to keep them
under tight control; but the last remark about his sash was the final
straw; it was time to fire a few shots of his own; his life in Limehouse
came to the fore.

"It appears gentlemen; and I use that term very loosely; that they have
already done that."

The jibe was not missed by either young Officer and the one called Chalmers
was the first to reply with a certain amount of venom in his young voice.

"I say, that's not on Ranker; how dare you call us names in our Mess. Damn
lackeys getting above his station Webster; we should take him outside and
thrash him to teach him a lesson; don't you think old man?"

"Yes Chalmers; damn Rankers should watch their tongues in this man's army."

Before Thomas could take more of an issue with the two young Subalterns; he
felt a strong hand on his shoulder and the squeeze that told Thomas his
friend Mister Sharpe had returned.

The two young Subalterns looked at Mister Sharpe's rank and jumped to
attention as he glared at them.

"Do you gentlemen have an issue with Lieutenant Marking?"

"Arh...erm...no Major; just getting acquainted with the newest member of
the Mess." Chalmers said in a stiff voice.

"Then I suggest gentlemen that you find somewhere else to drink or you may
find you have bitten off far more than you can chew."

The two Subalterns nodded and turned away but Thomas could still hear the
comments as they walked away about boys who were far too young to be in the
company of Officers.

Mister Sharpe smiled down at Thomas before saying.

"Well you handled that just about right. It'll get their tongues wagging
for the rest of the night. Don't be surprised if you get a few more
visitors. Most want to find out who you are so the Officers will get more
senior as they get answers; keep a lid on your temper; I don't want to have
to pull you out of the brig."

Thomas looked up at Mister Sharpe and tried to smile; he had to remind
himself he was not fighting the French at the moment.

The two watched as the Subalterns returned to the group of friends; it was
only minutes before a 1st lieutenant joined their group and chatted for a
few minutes before walking away to join others of the same rank.

Thomas watched the performance. It continued in the same vein; all the
Officers were now ignoring Thomas and Mister Sharpe while the new
information went from one Officer level to the next.

Thomas wondered why he had not seen the General as yet; he was the
General's guest and so he stayed with Mister Sharpe and just sipped the
small brandy he held as he watched the others.

The Lieutenants passed on their information to a young looking Captain who;
at one stage looked over at the pair standing alone and off to the side of
the bar area. The old guard kept to themselves and did not join in with the
general chatter of the newcomers.

Thomas watched as the Captain reported to three Majors who; after a few
minutes sent one of their number to a nearby group of Colonels. The pair
waited and watched as the Colonels talked amongst themselves for a few
minutes before one of them; a large portly Colonel began to make his way
slowly in their direction.

"You are about to get the final broadside lad." Mister Sharpe whispered to
Thomas.

"What's a broadside Mister Sharpe?"

"Navy talk. It means they are going to fire all their big guns along one
side of the ship. It's meant to blow the enemy ship out of the water."

"So this Colonel is going to try to fire all the guns at me then?"

"Yup; you got it right. Now watch what you say but at the same time, don't
let him think he has the best of you. It's called tact but with a dangerous
message. Most of these toffs are a spiteful bunch."

Thomas watched from the corner of his eye as the portly Colonel meandered
through the crowd of Officers in an attempt to disguise his main
intent. For Thomas it was almost amusing the see the man try not to look
his way as he moved closer.

When the Colonel finally got within talking distance; he ignored Thomas and
spoke to Mister Sharpe in a voice just loud enough to be heard by most of
the other Officers in the Mess.

"Well Sharpe; I see you have another ranker to keep you company?"

"Major."

"What? I'm a Colonel Sharpe."

"And I'm a Major Colonel; I will thank you for using my rank in the Mess as
is customary."

"What? Well yes... so, who is this boy; bit young for you what?"

"What are you insinuating Colonel?"

"Nothing old boy; just asking a civil question; I suppose you people from
the ranks are not too bright when it comes to senior ranks."

"Colonel; if it were not against regulations for Officers to duel, you
would be speaking to my second right now. Now then; if you have a
reasonable request then we may answer it; if not Colonel; then I would
suggest it be in your best interest to find some other amusement until the
General appears."

"Are you threatening me Major? Dash it all man; this is the Officers Mess
and not some lower ranks whore house. I remind you to mind your tongue
Major."

"In that case Colonel; I bid you a good day; your friends seem to be
awaiting your report."

Thomas had stayed silent the whole time and it was not difficult for him to
pick up the coldness of Mister Sharpe's words or meaning. It was not hard
for Thomas to realise the Colonel was a fool and had come over just to
start trouble in the hope his rank would protect him.

The Colonel gave Mister Sharpe a withering look and sneered at Thomas as he
turned and moved back to his cronies. Thomas could see the barely concealed
grin on Mister Sharpe's face.

"Well that went well, don't you think Lad?"

"So what happens now?"

"Now lad, they will talk amongst themselves until one finds the courage to
come back in the hope of gaining more information on you. You would think
the fools would take notice of your ribbon and bars; it would then tell
them exactly who you may be. Still this is good sport, don't you think?"

Mister Sharpe had a wide smile on his lips as he looked down at Thomas.

"In a funny way I think it is Mister Sharpe; but what now?"

"Well going on past performances of these types; I would say the next one
will fire his guns at you and try to ignore me this time. As a newly
promoted 2nd Lieutenant you would be fair game as you do not have the
seniority to fight back. Now this part is where you send a little message
of your own. That is lad, if you have the stomach for a fight?"

"A fight Mister Sharpe?"

"A fight with words lad. Do you know the old game of cat and mouse?"

"Oh yes Mister Sharpe; we played it all the time in Limehouse."

"Good this is the fight you have to play now; tell them nothing but lies
and see if they can find them; were you any good at the game Lad?"

"I won more than I lost Mister Sharpe."

"Good; just play these toffs the same way. They rely on their rank to win;
you just have to use your wits and mislead them a bit. Ok looks as though
they have sent the one that got the short straw. Ready all your guns lad;
we have boarders approaching."

Thomas smiled as he heard the laughter in Mister Sharpe's voice.

The new Colonel arrived to stand in front of Thomas. He was a tall man with
a very severe look on his thin face. He had a long high bridged nose and
seemed to be looking down it at Thomas.

"Well lad, what are you doing in the Officer's Mess?"

"Lieutenant...Sir." Thomas had decided to take a page from Mister Sharpe's
book but added the longer pause for the man's rank to inject a little
feeling into his reply.

"Pardon, boy?'

"I'm a Lieutenant...Sir. I have been informed that it is customary to use
an Officers rank in the Mess...Sir."

The man glared at Thomas and spluttered a little before continuing.

"Dashed young whelp. Do you know who I am...Lieutenant?"

"No...Sir."

"Damn it boy; I'm a Colonel in his Majesties Army; you will address me as
your superior."

"Yes Superior Colonel Sir."

"Do you mock me boy? I will have you broken back to the ranks boy. Now tell
me who you are and I hope you have the coin to pay for the Mess bill
tonight; or don't you know that particular custom yet?"

"Yes Sir; I am aware of the custom of a new Officer to the Mess and have
with me a few pennies for the bill. Now Sir as to who I am..."

Thomas was interrupted by another voice that sounded as cold as iron and
carried with it an authority that was not ignored by any Officers in the
Mess.

"Colonel Wainwright; what is the meaning of this. You will apologise to the
Lieutenant immediately or leave the Mess."

Every eye turned to the doorway of the Mess and saw General Wellesley along
with three other Generals standing in the opening and watching the
confrontation.

All the Officers in the Mess came to attention and the silence that ensued
also suddenly felt very frigid.

The Colonel looked at Thomas and tried to keep the sneer out of his voice.

"My apologies Lieutenant." It was all the Colonel was prepared to say and
it looked to Thomas as though the man had swallowed something distasteful
as he said the words.

"That will be all Colonel." Thomas watched as the Colonel stood to
attention and then turned about and went back to his friends in the far
corner.

"Well young man; you seem to have survived your first broadsides unscathed;
well done. Now you know my guests, General Livorno, General Martino and
this gentleman here is General Cuesta."

Thomas snapped to attention and bowed his head at the three Generals in
acknowledgement. Much to Thomas's surprise; General Livorno clasped him by
both shoulders and bent down to kiss him on both cheeks before saying to
the now blushing boy in his own language.

"At last we meet again Patron El Toro; I see you are now an Officer; if you
were in my army you would already be a General. On behalf of the people of
Portugal I thank you for what you have done to the French; if there is
anything I can ever do for you just call for me."

While Thomas was still learning Portuguese it was enough to understand and
reply to the General in the same language.

"Thank you General Livorno; I will do my best to keep my friends safe from
the French."

General Livorno broke into a wide smile as Thomas spoke to him in his own
Language; even though it was a little broken; he was impressed that the boy
had tried to learn. General Livorno patted Thomas on the shoulder as he
smiled at him; the interchange was not missed by all those in the Mess.

Next it was the turn of General Martino who followed General Livorno with
the kiss on each cheek. While the General did speak English he decided to
use his own native language this time. He was already impressed with
Thomas's use of Portuguese and wanted to know if the boy had also done the
same with Spanish as he had many Spanish boys in his little army.

"So the famous Patron is coming up in the world of war; I must also add my
congratulations; your General Sir Arthur has told me many good things you
have done to get rid of the French invaders. I hope you can do much more
before we throw them out of our countries."

Again Thomas replied, but this time in fluent Spanish.

"My sincere thanks to you General Martino; without the boys of Spain I
would not have been able to do my duty; it is too them I owe all of my
successes."

"You are too modest Patron; your fame and fighting skill have given many of
my own men a stronger back bone; we have much to thank you for. Your
willingness to take those who have lost family and would have succumbed to
hunger long ago is truly commendable and will not be forgotten by any of us
in the future."

Thomas now felt his face was aflame as he heard the compliments; he was
surprised when the new General spoke up also in Spanish.

"So young man; you are the famous Patron El Toro; I thought he would be a
larger man as the French seem to think he is and yet your heart is that of
a giant; I am suitably impressed. Perhaps one day we can sit and talk; I
would be interested in your views on this new form of fighting you have
been doing. What do you call it? Guerrilla fighting?"

"Yes General Cuesta; it was suggested to me by one of General Wellesley's
friends before the retreat at La Coruna."

The General nodded in understanding and stepped back as General Wellesley
stepped forward.

"A quiet word with you Lieutenant."

The General led Thomas outside the Mess and gestured for the door guards to
step away to give them talking space.

"Well Mister Marking, do you think you can have your new recruits ready to
fight within two months?"

"Yes Sir; if that is what you require, then I will have them ready when you
need us. There is one thing more Sir."

"What's that Mister marking?"

"There is still a detachment of French in Abrantes; I would like to get
them out of there before too much longer."

"Then do as you think fit mister Marking. I will need you in July to cause
some trouble for the French but I will give you more on that when
everything is finalised."

"Yes Sir; I will have my boys ready on time."

"I'm sure you will. Now is there anything you need for your little army?"

"There is one thing that has crossed my mind Sir."

"Well tell me so I can see what can be done."

"It is the new recruits Sir. Those who have been with me at the start may
feel a little let down by the addition of so many new faces. I was
wondering if I could have a badge struck for them to wear as the members of
the original troop; a sort of badge of honour Sir."

"Damn good idea young man; you go ahead and do it; just let Major Lewis
know what you have come up with and I will get it through the war
office. There is nothing like a good morale boost to make men fight
harder. Now is there anything else you need before we go back into the
vipers pit?"

"No Sir, not at this stage."

"Good, then I will see you in my tent at 10 of the clock tomorrow for your
final orders. Now let's get back in there before they decide to mutiny."

Thomas followed the General back into the Officers Mess just in time to see
them all lining up around the long table for dinner. It was pointedly
obvious he was more than he seemed as General Wellesley pointed him to the
chair on the Generals left at the top of the table. Thomas noticed a number
of senior Officers raised their eyebrows at the new seating arrangements.

During the serving and eating of dinner; it became a muted affair; little
was said except for the main toasts to the King and the regiments although
Thomas was kept company by the three new Generals and chatted quietly with
them in both Spanish and Portuguese; much to the chagrin of those new
Officers that did not understand the languages.

At the end of the dinner; General Livorno asked if he could produce the
final wine of the evening which was normally when the Officers of the Mess
could relax. Many loosened their cravats and opened a few buttons on their
shirts as they were by now a little the worse for drink.

It was customary at this point in the Mess that rank was no longer a
concern although order was still to be kept as best they could; not always
easy with so many young and high spirited Junior Officers with a belly full
of strong wine.

The General produce a number of bottles of special wine from the city of
Oporto; the wine took its name from the region and was simply called Port;
it was to become a tradition in all the Officers Mess for years to come.

As the Port flowed the noise grew until the younger Officers began to feel
especially brave and boisterous. It was just before the Generals were to
leave that a young 1st Lieutenant called down the long table to Thomas.

"So new boy; what do we call you then; how come you made it to this table
with the real Officers?"

The young Lieutenant was clearly in his cups and not thinking
clearly. Before Thomas; who had kept his intake of wine to the bare minimum
could reply; General Wellesley once again stepped in for him.

"That comment is out of order Lieutenant but; being as there is so much
interest in our newest Officer; I will tell you all you need to know. I
would not want him to have to defend his honour and then have to lose a
number of Officers to his skills."

The General looked down the length of the long table as he thought over
what he was going to tell them all. His oldest Officers; the ones that had
been with him when they all saw Thomas's feats of arms; sat back with sage
looks on their faces as they waited for the newer Officers to be brought
down a peg or two.

"Gentlemen; as I look down this table, I see that many of the newer
Officers wear Service Ribbons yet not one of you wears a Campaign
Ribbon. Had you taken the time to look more closely you would have seen
that our newest young Officer wears a Campaign Ribbon; not only that but he
also wears three bars. Gentlemen I will ask you to all be upstanding and
raise your glasses to Lieutenant Thomas Marking; defender of the Colours at
Rolica; defender of our right flank at Vimeiro and holder of the high
ground at La Coruna. Had Lieutenant Marking not held his ground at La
Coruna; our army would not have been able to evacuate in good order. After
La Coruna; Lieutenant Marking then stayed behind to fight the French alone
and unaided behind their lines. Gentlemen, Lieutenant Thomas Marking."

General Wellesley raised his glass and sipped the last of his Port. Thomas
had been gestured to stay sitting during the toast so he had time to watch
the faces of the new Officers. As the General ran through his deeds; Thomas
blushed beet red but also watched the faces of the Officers; he almost
smiled as he saw the dawning of recognition on the faces of the new
Officers.

The General stayed standing as he made a last speech.

"Gentlemen; I am now retiring; I would seriously suggest that you consider
your positions if you wish to confront Mister Marking any further; if you
do it will be on your own head. Thank you Gentlemen; I leave the Mess in
your hands. Sergeant Major of the Mess?"

The Sergeant Major in charge of the Mess stepped from the back of the huge
marquee and stood to attention.

"Lieutenant Marking will accept your bill at this time; all drinks from now
on are at the expense of the Officer concerned. Goodnight Gentlemen."

As the Generals left the Mess, the Sergeant Major produced a bill for the
dinner. Without batting an eyelid; Thomas reached into his pocket and
produced ten gold ducats; giving them to the Sergeant Major; he waved away
any returning of the excess coins.

Thomas was surprised when the Sergeant Major stood to attention and then
saluted him; it was a funny feeling for Thomas but he had to accept it for
now. Thomas looked down the table where Mister Sharpe was seated among the
Majors; he got a small nod from his friend to let him know they could leave
whenever Thomas was ready.

Thomas decided he had had enough for one night and was about to rise when a
drunken voice came from further down the table where the younger
Lieutenants sat.

"So it's the hero Marking is it? Sorry old boy but you don't look much like
a hero from here."

Thomas glanced down to where Mister Sharpe sat; he received the slightest
of nods as though to say 'it's all in your hand lad' Thomas looked at the
young Officer. He was not much older than eighteen and was fresh faced and
a little drunk; Thomas decided he'd had enough for one day.

"Well I don't think I'm a hero either although I would like to test your
skill if you have any?"

"Why you cad; do you really think you are better than real officers?"

"I don't really know many real officers so it is hard to say."

"You are getting a little above your station Ranker; there's nothing you
can do against a real Officer."

"Perhaps you would consider a small wager then?"

"What? I am a real Officer; what makes you think you can best me in any
part of the military drills?"

The young man was now really feeling his drink; even though a few of his
friends tried to make him sit back down and stay quite; for Thomas it had
gone on long enough.

"Sir, I have been told that Officers cannot take up arms against another
Officer; that being so I then offer you a challenge and a wager; if you
feel so strongly?"

"Anything you can do I will surpass. Make your challenge and wager, Sir."

"Very well then; tomorrow morning at 7 of the clock; we each select nine
men as well as ourselves and go for a ten mile march in full pack and
arms. The first troop back is the winner."

"Men; don't you mean boys in your case Sir?"

"If it please you Sir."

"Done. And the wager?" asked the young Officer

"The troop that loses must pay one shilling per man per minute until the
last man crosses the line."

"Is that all; that hardly seems much of a wager Sir; perhaps you do not
have the stomach for a real wager?"

"What do you have in mind; a small side wager for just you and I?"

"That's what I'm saying Sir."

"Then name your wager Sir."

"Well Sir; I saw you have already had to part with ten gold ducats; I
assume you would not have much left in your purse so I will make a wager of
ten gold guineas; if you can raise that much?"

"The ducats are of no concern Sir; they were part of the reward for my head
from the French so they paid the bill tonight. Now for your wager; perhaps
a better wager would be fifty Guineas; it's a much better number?"

"Fifty...uhm...done Sir. I am sure I will enjoy drinking to your demise for
some time to come on your losses."

Thomas could see the look in the young Officers face; fifty guineas was a
lot of money for any man let alone a young Officer; Thomas hoped the man
could pay. Thomas stood up and looked down the table at Mister Sharpe to
let him know he was ready to leave; he wanted the time to get his boys
ready for the morning.

As the two walked back to Thomas's cottage; Mister Sharpe was all smiles as
he said to Thomas.

"Well that went well; I was worried you would want to spit him on one of
your knives."

"I had no intention of doing that Mister Sharpe but I think a good gavotte
for the boys in the morning will do just fine." Thomas could not help the
giggle that came from his lips.

"Yes that was an evil little plan you set up; you better make it a good
one, I have ten guineas on you with four other Officers and I don't have
that much dosh in my purse; do you have the fifty just in case?"

"Oh yes I think I have that much in the chest; if not I will just have to
make them run harder."

The two laughed loudly as they came to the door of the cottage.

"Well lad I will leave you here; see you at the start line in the
morning. Good luck."

"Thank you Mister Sharpe; I really feel your purse is safe."

"Yes lad, I know it is. Good night."

"Good night Mister Sharpe." Thomas went inside to tell the boys about the
march in the morning. When he told them all about the Officers Mess and the
Wager they all clapped their hands and laughed; they all said they would do
better than their best for him in the morning.

At 7am Thomas and his nine boys; Estaban and the two brothers Sergio and
Thomasino, along with the six Cadets; were lined up with full packs and
their muskets as they waited for the young Officer and his men to
arrive. They had all now dressed in their usual Spanish clothes in which
they were far more comfortable; Thomas had his rifle over his shoulder as
he waited.

They arrived a little late and Thomas could plainly see the young Officer
had kept drinking until late after Thomas had left. His men had their packs
and muskets and the young Officer had only a light pack; his sword and a
pistol; Thomas saw it as a weak attempt to push the boundaries of the wager
but ignored it; instead he decided to put a little more pressure on the
young Officer but disguise it as a weakness on his part.

"Well Sir; I see you have honoured the wager. I have given a lot of thought
overnight to our conditions and believe I may have been a little harsh."

"So Sir; you wish to pull out of the wager?"

"Oh no, not that; I was considering that I should give you and your men a
five minute head start. You see we are far younger than your men and it
would please me to make this small wager as fair as possible."

The young Officer perked up at being given an unasked for advantage; he did
just as Thomas had hoped he would.

"Then Sir; I accept your new conditions; I would be a fool not to. I don't
suppose you would consider an increase in the wager under these
circumstances?"

"What were you thinking of Sir?"

"Say a hundred guineas; would that be too much for your purse?"

Thomas uhmed and ahhed to make it look like he was unsure about the amount;
finally after a few minutes he nodded his head and said.

"Agreed. Mister Sharpe will keep the time and you may wish to ask one of
your friends to stand with him to verify; if you are happy then start when
ready and we will follow after five minutes."

Mister Sharpe then stepped forward with two small red flags on a short
stick; he gave one to each of them and then said.

"I have one of my men at the five mile mark; you will hand him the flag as
you pass so there can be no one to not make the full distance. If you are
ready Gentlemen?"

The young Officer called to one of his friends to stand with Mister Sharpe
to keep the time and then formed his men at the line in the road after he
had taken the small red flag from Mister Sharpe. At a word from Mister
Sharpe the Officer set off with his men at a good solid marching pace of
four mile to the hour.

At the five minute mark; Mister Sharpe gave the nod for Thomas and his boys
to start. They all set the same marching pace as the others and kept to it
until they were out of sight of those on the start line. Once they were
hidden by the hedge rows and the bend in the road; Thomas called for the
pace to be increased and they started at their normal pace for the gavotte.

As they came around the second bend in the road; Thomas saw the Officer's
men not far ahead. He gave the order for one more double time and then
slowed to normal pace as he led his boys past the older men. Once in the
lead he set the pace back to double time and; much to the surprise and
worry of the young Officer; Thomas led his boys out of sight before the
Officer could react.

The young Officer was even more surprised when what seemed to be only a few
minutes later; although it was much longer; he saw the returning boys as
they came down the road at double time and then slowed to marching pace as
they passed the still outward bound men.

As Thomas and his boys rounded the last bend into the town; he saw ahead of
him a large crowd had gathered to see the end of what should have been the
young upstart getting his comeuppance.

Thomas was not surprised at the shocked looks on the faces of the many
watching Officers as he and his boys double timed to the finish line and
were breathing only slightly more than normal. Thomas led the boys to the
side of the road and they all sat and took food from their packs to eat
while they waited.

Thomas went and checked with Mister Sharpe on their time. It was not bad
but not as good as they would normally have done back at the camp. For
Thomas and his boys, one hour and twenty minutes was a good time; it had
taken them an extra ten minutes this morning but there was still no sign of
the young Officer or his men.

Thomas returned to his young friends and sat to eat while waiting for the
end of the race. As they sat, Estaban whispered to Sergio; the younger boy
ran off but was soon back with a wicker basket filled with straw.

Sergio sat the basket on the ground close to Estaban; the older boy looked
at Thomas and smiled.

"It is a little something for our victory Patron; we will drink to the
winners and losers with a new wine."

Thomas smiled at the teen and settled back; he hoped the others would
return before he had to meet the General at 10 of the clock. The time moved
slowly as they waited. It was fifteen minutes after the mark of 9 that the
first of the returning troops showed up.

It looked as though they had been pushing hard but were still nearly forty
minutes behind Thomas's boys and there were still more of them not yet in
sight. As the three soldiers crossed the line; Mister Sharpe called out
loudly.

"Three at forty one minutes."

Everyone stood waiting for the next to appear. It was a solitary figure who
showed up next; the butt of his musket was being dragged on the ground and
the shaking knees showed his exhaustion.

"One at fifty two minutes." Came the loud voice of Mister Sharp. And so
they came in one at a time until there were now only two to cross the line;
a soldier and the young Officer.

Thomas had partially relied on the fact that most Officers rode their horse
most places and would not be used to running such distances. His assumption
proved correct as the young Officer finally staggered over the line one
step behind the last soldier.

"Tenth man at one hour and sixteen minutes. Gentlemen, the race is won by
Lieutenant Marking and his men; I would ask all wagers to be settled by
sundown as is custom."

It was as Mister Sharpe finished that Thomas saw Estaban reach into the
basket. From the basket he pulled what appeared to be a number of small red
cups and one black one. After giving each boy a red cup; Estaban handed
Thomas the single black one.

They were newly made and were over a thin ceramic that would hold about two
mouthfuls of drink. Estaban then took out a bottle of red wine; Thomas
could see a homemade label stuck on the front; it almost brought tears of
laughter to his eyes as he saw what the boys had done.

The bottle was opened and Thomas could not get over the sense of fun
Estaban had created; with all the onlookers watching; Estaban filled the
ten coloured cups. The handmade label on the bottle had been painted gold
and there was a black bulls head in the centre. Above the picture of the
bulls head was the word 'Sangre' and underneath it said 'De Toro' Estaban
smiled as he filled Thomas's black cup.

In the loudest voice he could muster; Estaban called out.

"Viva El Patron. Viva El Toro." They all lifted their cups and drank deeply
until there were only a few drops of wine left. As the boys took the cups
from their lips, they dashed them onto the stones of the roadway; Thomas
was indicated to throw his black one in the centre of the others.

When looked at, it appeared to be a gold circle of crockery splinters with
a black dot in the middle. Estaban was not finished; with a cunning look on
his face, he walked to the Officer that had lost the race and gave him the
rest of the bottle.

In broken English which he must have been practicing the words of; Estaban
said.

"A gift to you from the Patron; El Toro. May your blood be as strong as
his."

Thomas knew he could not be late for his appointment with the General if he
did not leave immediately; telling Estaban to take the boys back to the
cottage and wait for him there; Thomas turned to go and meet the General.

Much to his surprise, as Thomas turned he almost bumped into the General
standing close by and watching the results of the race.

Thomas jumped to attention and saluted; the General smiled as he tucked a
bulging purse into his waist band before saying.

"Come along Lieutenant; Let's talk as we go; less ears to hear what I have
to say this way."

"Now Lieutenant, I am planning to invade Spain in July at a place called
Talavera. Mister Sharpe and his men will be raiding the French to the north
of us to pull away some of the troops of the French. I would like you to
work to the south around the area of Arzobispo and Toledo. Try to cause as
much disruption as you can without being caught. I have given you enough
men to form a miniature army all of your own so I expect you to make full
use of them. It leaves you about two months to ready your company and get
the new ones settled in. Can you do it for me?"

"It will be done Sir; just tell me when you wish us to start. I will try to
have the problem at Abrantes fixed well before then."

"Good, now is there anything else you need?"

"No Sir, I have everything that I need for now except the badges for the
originals."

"Get together with Major Lewis; he knows about it and will get it done for
you before you head back to your camp. Did you send word for your men to
move to the Estrella?"

"Yes Sir; they will be there waiting for our return."

"Right then Lieutenant; if that's all then I need to get back and count my
winnings; you would really think that an Officer would know that the men
who have fought in a campaign would be better than those who are yet to see
a musket fired in anger. Still I will not complain; it was far better than
trying to explain the death of a young Officer to his parents; especially
as his parent sits in Parliament. Good day to you Lieutenant; I am trusting
you to keep the French off my neck at Talavera."

"We will Sir; or die trying."

"Yes I know you will."

Lieutenant General Sir Arthur Wellesley marched away smiling as he silently
whistled to himself; like before; he had never doubted the young drummer
boy, and his predictions had come true better than he thought they would.

Thomas got back to his cottage just as the new Corporal Trent marched his
boys into the field behind the cottage; he was followed closely by the two
wagons of Midshipman Scully and four wagons pulled by their own mules from
the Quartermasters store and the armoury.

For the next two days, Thomas set out the rules for the new arrivals; each
morning was started with their usual ten mile run in full battle kit as
well as their drums. It had been how Thomas and the originals had learnt
and he saw no reason to change the tactic.

On the morning of the third day; Major Lewis arrived with a small wooden
box. It was the badges for the originals; they had been struck by the men
of the armoury in double quick time for their favourite Lieutenant.

This was also the day when the Sergeant of the Armoury arrived with the six
stands his men had made for the small guns of the Sailors. The guns were
called Carronades; Thomas had never seen anything like them. They were a
small cannon like gun that; as Midshipman Scully told him; Mounted on the
gunnels of a ship to either use when boarding another ship or to repel
those trying to board yours.

The stands made for them by the Armoury had to be portable and so they had
made them with two cross pieces of thick timber bound in brass; There was a
ring fitted to the end of each timber where a spike would be driven into
the ground to stop the gun from falling over when fired.

The two timbers fitted together at the centre by means of a hole drilled
through the mortis joint and held by a thick pipe that went through both
timbers. The carronade's swivel with its short stubby shaft; was fitted
into the pipe and fired from there by a single gunner.

There was of course more to it than the simple explanation given to Thomas
by Midshipman Scully. Scully liked to call them Swivel Guns and they were
small enough to be carried by one man although the smaller Midshipman
needed the help of the Gunners Mates when mounting them.

Finally, with the badges now in his hands; Thomas told the recruits they
would be moving out before sun rise the next morning; he told them he
expected them to cover forty miles a day until they came to the new camp
somewhere around Guarda or the mountains close by.



TBC.