Date: Wed, 4 Jan 2017 18:39:45 +1300 From: arthur carkeek <artcart65@gmail.com> Subject: drummer boy chapt 3 book 2 DRUMMER BOY CHAPTER 3 BOOK 2 THE ROAD NORTH BY ARTHUR CONTACT AUTHOR: artcart65@gmail.com With the final act of the salute to the people of Vimeiro it was quickly decided that the rest of the day should be a fiesta to celebrate the return of their protector. Within an hour the town was filled with laughing and happy people. The women and mothers of Vimeiro were soon at work preparing food for the hundreds of their young soldiers while the men saw to the slaughter of enough sheep and cattle to feed the masses. Thomas was quickly led to a place of honour under the shade of a wide veranda that stood out from the front of the only tavern. For the next hour Thomas was beset by friends and villagers as they passed on their congratulations on his return to health and the safety of his adoptive home. Thomas noticed that even here in the safest place he could be in Portugal, his guards were still only steps away and Fairley was once again hovering nearby with his musket on his shoulder. As Thomas sat in the shade and with the last well wisher gone, it was time for him to start working on what he was now going to do. Thomas had some ideas now that he no longer had to report to the Viscount or any other English Officer but it would still take more thought to finalise what he wanted to do. As he sat with a cold drink in his hand he began to watch the others as they laughed and joked all over the square of the town. As he watched, Thomas started to put things in order; his first duty would be to promote new Officers and set out how he wanted to reform his small army. Now that he was back on his feet and had sole command, he wanted to have more mobile forces so they could hit the French over a wider area. There was also the need for some new guns if he wanted to hit any of the more stationary targets the French had built in Spain over the years. As Thomas looked around he saw that there was something markedly different about the town. It took him a few minutes before he saw what it was. The town of Vimeiro looked as though every house or shop was newly built. Every surface he saw was freshly white washed and the doors and window trims had been freshly painted. Above every door that he could see was the caricature of the bulls head and a copy of their battle flag flew high on the spire of the small church that serviced the people. Outside the town were new stone fences holding large gardens and there seemed to be more animals in the open fields; there had been many changes since the last time he had been able to come home. Thomas would find out more the next day when he returned to their valley. There was just enough of a view from where he sat that Thomas could see the far off rise where his many friends were now buried; he would go the very next day to visit each and every one of those lost; it was the very least he could do for those who had stood by him even at the worst of times. The fiesta went long into the night although Thomas was ordered to rest by Jervis well before the others called it a night. The next morning Thomas called for his new horse Santana to be brought for him; it was time to visit the fallen and remember who they were and why they had fallen. The losses at Olivenca stilled played on Thomas's mind and he was determined to never let it happen again on such a scale. With his duty done to the fallen, Thomas returned to the town just as the others were starting to form up for their march to the valley. There were some very sick looking men and boys amongst them but not one of them complained; their El Toro had returned and it was now time to turn their thoughts to defeating the hated French and seek some revenge for those lost at Olivenca. As the long column entered the valley that was their home Thomas once again saw more changes. The number of small houses had been increased and the older ones now had well built tile roofs or had been freshly thatched. At the far end of the valley was a strange new construction, it had been suggested, designed and finally constructed under the expert eyes of Lieutenant Carterton. It was an area that had a flat space at the base of the rise of the nearest wall. At the centre was what appeared to be a table made from three large pieces of stone; two upright in the ground with the third laying on top. Around the curve of the wall were set a large number of rough but flat stones in four tiers that faced the stone table. Thomas pointed to the new addition and lifted an eyebrow at Estaban. "It is now for all meetings Patron. While you were healing we decided it would help to include all of the men when making plans. The Lieutenant has a name for it but I cannot say it; it is a foreign language." Thomas nodded, he would have to ask Mister Carterton what it was called at some later date but he did like the idea of everyone being able to speak their piece and be heard by all. Finally Thomas arrived at his cabin but now it was nothing like the one he had left all those months ago. The once small cabin had been increased in size and freshly white washed. He was to find that the inside had all his furniture and two extra rooms had been added, one obviously for his war room as there were two large trestle tables covered in newly made maps. Mister Smithson had been a very busy young man in the time Thomas had been away. Thomas was surprised that he felt so tired as he dismounted from Santana in front of his rebuilt house; it made him think that perhaps he was not as fit for duty as he first thought but there was still much to do although his closest friends flatly told him to rest for the remainder of the day and start fresh on the morrow. Thomas sat on the large chair that was always set aside for his use; it was only moments later when one of the wagons pulled up to his door and Fairley jumped down and began to give orders to three other men. Thomas watched as the men began to unload several large chests and place them near the open door. Looking at Fairley, Thomas asked him. "What the devil are all those Fairley?" "Your travelling trunks Mister Marking." "What travelling trunks Fairley?" "The ones His Highness had made for you Mister Marking." "What the hell do I need travelling trunks for, everything I need can fit into my panniers." "Not all of it Mister Marking." Thomas watched as Fairley stepped over to the growing pile of expensive looking trunks and began to explain them. "This tall one is for your Generals uniforms and boots along with your under cloths; there is also new hose just for your uniform. Now this one Mister Marking is for your everyday uniforms and other things you need on a daily basis. These Mister Marking, are your hat boxes; the Prince wanted to make sure you had all of your hats even from when you were just starting as a drummer Sir. This last one is your arms locker Mister Marking." Thomas looked at the oblong chest with wonder. It was well made and looked to be very solid. The timber was well finished and the whole was about four feet long, two feet deep and another foot and a half wide. Thomas looked at Fairley and could only shake his head. "I don't really see the need for all this Fairley. What happens when I have to go into the field, do I have to carry all this with me?" "No Sir, most of it will stay here in safety; you will only need to take what you need but the Prince insisted that you have everything you may ever need." "I can see I will have to have words with the Prince before much longer. Show me the Arms locker if you please Fairley." Fairley called two of the men to carry the large crate inside, once it was on the floor in front of Thomas; Fairley knelt down and opened the padlock before handing the large metal key to Thomas. Thomas watched as Fairley opened the locker, the lid was a few inches deep and lined with fine green baize. Fixed to the lid were Thomas's pair of pocket pistols that were held in place by a metal clasp. Next to the pocket pistols were Thomas's spare knives. The first shelf in the locker had two wooden pistol cases; one belonged to his Manton's and the other to his double barrelled Purdy's; the rest of the top shelf was filled with all the cleaning and loading kit for his weapons. Fairley pulled out the top shelf and revealed the second one. This shelf had his two spare swords; The Toledo which had been a gift to him as well as a new one that he had not seen before but it was so fancy he surmised it was to wear when he had his formal uniform on. Skully's sword was still worn by Thomas but there was a space set aside on the shelf for it as well. Fairley removed the second shelf and revealed the bottom of the locker. Sitting in a set of wooden slots was his Livorno musket and beside that an empty place for his double barrelled Purdy musket, Thomas saw that there were still two spaces empty for any new muskets he may acquire over time. Thomas looked at Fairley and said. "And just how am I meant to move that bloody thing?" "It stays here Mister Marking, but if you need to take it then just call for some of the men, they will take care of it for you." "Well thank you Fairley but I still don't see why I need all this stuff; we came here to fight the French not look like peacocks." "Yes Mister Marking, what do you want done with it all Sir?" "Put the damn things in the back somewhere out of sight. Is that all there is Fairley?" "Yes Sir, these are the last of your trunks. Will you want anything else Sir?" "Yes Fairley, a bloody large brandy and ask the kitchen if they have a snack I can have before dinner. The ride has taken a bit more out of me than I thought it would." Fairley smiled as he gave his boss a wave and went looking for some food for him; at least it almost sounded as though the old Captain Marking was back again Dinner that night was a small affair and only Carmelo and Estaban joined him although Fairley was once again hovering in the background; he seemed to just not trust that his boss was safe unless he was around to watch over him. During the dinner Thomas told his two closest friends what he had been thinking about and asked them for suggestions. For the two hours that dinner went on, the three friends talked about what they would have to do to get their small army ready. Thomas had shown them both the written orders from the Cortes and they now had to decide what, when and how they were going to make use of all the talents they now had at their disposal. First on the list was a need to appoint new Officers and reform their army into a different type of force; he wanted them to be more mobile and be able to strike at far off targets that the French would never suspect to be under threat. Unknown to Thomas he was about to have a meeting the next day that would answer one of his most pressing needs and would change the game even further in his favour. The three old friends had only just started eating when they were interrupted by one of the guards from the entrance. When the young guard was beside the table he looked at Thomas for permission to speak; it was given immediately. "Patron, there is the youngest son of the cobbler wishing to speak with you." "Bring him here quickly." When the young guard had left Thomas called out for Fairley. "Can you set another place for our young visitor?" "Yes Sir." Fairley quickly set about making an extra place at the large table and had just finished when the young ten year old was led to where the three old friends sat waiting. The boy smiled as he saw the great El Toro, Patron of Vimeiro. With a small bow of his head he said. "Patron, I am Emanuel, son of the cobbler and I carry a message from my Papa." "Come and sit with us Emanuel so you can eat while you tell us your important message." Thomas said. Emanuel looked please to be invited to sit with the Patron; he would have a great story to tell his friends when he returned to his home that he had sat with the Great Patron and supped at his table. After taking the empty seat and filling his plate, Emanuel looked over at his hero. "Patron, my father has sent me to tell you that there are three strangers in the town asking for you. They are not of Spain or Portugal and we think they are English but they have no language that we can understand. My father heard them asking for El Toro but that is not the name they used and he only heard the word Toro and so thought of you." "Can you tell me what they looked like Emanuel?" "Yes Patron. They are very rough looking men and walk strangely, not like real men but as though they were rolling from side to side. My father thought it very strange Patron and so sent me to tell you." "Thank your father for his very important message Emanuel and you can tell your Papa that I will send the cart for the men tomorrow. Now then eat with us and Don Estaban will find one of his men to take you home on one of his fine horses." "Thank you Patron, when I am older I will come and fight the French by your side; this I have already told my Papa." "Thank you Emanuel but I can only hope we have sent them back to France before you have to do that." Thomas saw a small frown cross the boys face at this news but Emanuel turned to his plate and said nothing. If the Patron hoped to have all the French sent from their lands before Emanuel could fight by his side then perhaps it was a good thing although he felt a little disappointed that he would not be there to help his Patron. When dinner was over Estaban called for one of his cousins to take the young boy back to his home, it would be far safer and faster than letting the boy walk alone at night. When Emanuel had disappeared, Thomas told the others what he had been planning and how they would do it all. Thomas got the full co-operation of his two old friends and they set about planning how and what to do the following day. The small donkey cart left before the sun rose to go to Vimeiro and collect the strangers; Thomas had little doubt they were sailors and probably sent by Mister Percy for some reason. He would have to await their arrival and see why they were looking for him. Thomas was also up early and was seated under the small veranda when he sent word for Jones to join him for cafe. Jones arrived quickly although only partly dressed and carried with him a pile of papers with his ever present quill and ink. As the two sat and drank their cafe, Thomas went over what he wanted to do and how he wanted it done. Jones carefully kept detailed notes of everything his boss wanted; there was a lot of work for him to do before late afternoon which is when Thomas was going to inform all the others at a general meeting. It was mid morning when he saw the small cart arrive back from the town; sitting in the back were three older and rough looking men, that they were sailors was easy to see even without them walking around with their strange rolling gait. It was their mode of dress that gave Thomas all the answers he needed. Thomas was still sitting at the table when the three men were driven close to his house; he had asked for Carmelo and Estaban to be present. Carmelo and Estaban were sitting at the table with a second cafe and had their jackets open and their legs spread out in front of them as though relaxing and well at ease. Thomas was only in his white shirt and his black jacket was resting on the back of his chair, he also had a fresh cafe at his hand. The three friends watched the strangers dismount from the cart rather stiffly; the long drive had left them stiff and sore. Thomas and his friends watched as the three obvious sailors made their way to stand in front of the table and look at the three young foreigners; which was the one they had been told to come and see was anyone's guess. The sailor in the lead looked at the three young men. Two of them wore black jackets with a thin curl of gold braid on their shoulder tabs; the other was a little younger and wore only a white shirt. The leader of the sailors turned to look at the oldest of the three; he had to be the one that was in charge. The sailor turned his eyes to Estaban and, along with the other two; bowed their heads slightly and touched their foreheads as though saluting in the manner of a sailor. "Cap'n Toro, I be Second Mate Bowden of the ship Mary Rae. I be under orders of Cap'n Rat to carry a message for ye." The three friends looked at one another and each saw the glint in the other's eyes; it was time for a little fun. Estaban's English had improved greatly over time even though his accent was heavy and he still mispronounced some words. As though he was in charge, Estaban turned to Carmelo and gave out a long spiel in Spanish. When Estaban had finished, Carmelo turned to Thomas and told him about a joke he had heard but said it all in Portuguese. Thomas could not help the rather childish giggle that came from his throat and turned to Carmelo and made another bad joke in French which caused the other two to also break into a boyish giggle. The eyes of all three friends never left the faces of the three sailors as they joked around in languages they knew the newcomers would not understand. After a few more choice words between them, Thomas nodded to Estaban to ask the question he had posed for Second Mate Bowden. "What is report?" At hearing the heavy accent of the young man, Bowden was not sure he had the right person; he was sure that Captain Rat had said the person he was looking for would be easily recognisable; this young Spanish lad did not seem the right sort but he still had his orders and the Spaniard had not said he was not Captain Toro. "Cap'n Toro, Cap'n Rat said to report to you that the Mary Rae has been lost with all hands and all cargo, Sir" A frown came over Thomas's face as he heard the news; why they were being told he could not for the life of himself understand; it was time to own up to the confused older sailor. Thomas reached down to his left boot and took hold of his black baton; as he straightened up he saw the look on the face of the Second Mate. Second Mate Bowden looked at the youngest of the three as he bent down for something under the table. The younger man looked to be of lesser years than his two companions but there was a hardness to the young features; it was the look of someone that had seen far too much death for his tender years. The lad could be anywhere between fifteen and eighteen; with the hard bitten look the lad could really be of any age. Bowden watched as the youngster straightened up; it looked as though the lad was favouring his left arm as he placed a familiar black baton with a silver slave head on top of the table; the lad's voice soon confirmed the lad's heritage as the familiar English accent was plainly heard. "I'm Captain Toro Mister Mate; sorry for the deception but we have learnt to play it safe with strangers. Now then what's all this about. You say a ship has been lost but it has little to do with us, shouldn't you be reporting it to the Admiralty?" The shocked look on the Mates face only brought another smile to the three friend's faces as they watched the man try to recover his wits. "Sorry Cap'n didn't really know who we was speaking to. Cap'n there be a problem with reporting to the Admiralty and Cap'n Rat said we was only to talk to you." "Then why can't you report to the Admiralty Mister Mate?" Thomas watched as the three men shifted uneasily; he also saw them glance at the half finished mugs of cafe sitting before the three young men. Taking a more relaxed attitude, Thomas called for Fairley who he knew would be well within ear shot as was his habit. "Fairley could you go and ask Corporal Morgan to make three fresh cafe for our visitors; make sure he adds Colonel Grey's tot as well." There was no reply but Thomas heard Fairley's steps going back into the house; he turned back to the three sailors. "Mister Mate, perhaps you and your two friends would like to join us for cafe while you tell us why you cannot tell the Admiralty?" "Thankee Cap'n." Thomas waited for the three men to sit at the table and it was only moments before Fairley arrived with three fresh mugs of cafe; once the mugs had been tasted by the three sailors, much to their delight by the look on their faces; Bowden looked at Thomas and began. "Well Cap'n, ye see we can't report to Admiralty as we is all dead. Drowned we was when ship went down and carried us all to Davey Jones locker it did Cap'n" Thomas watched as the Second Mate took another large sip of the hot cafe; it was obvious the three men had not tasted it before and the addition of the rum only went to make it more tasty for them. "Well then Mister Mate, if you are all in Davey Jones locker then how is it you sit before us. You don't strike me as one of those ghosts?" "Well Cap'n if I may have a little of your time, perhaps I can explain it all; of course if your man was to get another mug of this here drink then me throat may be able to spill a little more of the tale Cap'n?" Thomas smiled as he saw the Second Mate lift his now empty mug; Thomas was sure it was the rum the Mate wanted more of and not the cafe. Thomas nodded to the ever waiting Fairley and then sat back to wait for the Man to continue. "Well Cap'n, it's like this you see. We was all aboard the Mary Rae when we left Portsmouth to carry supplies for the war. Now we was carrying a full hold of dangerous stuff so was put at back of convoy like. Well Cap'n, as we was getting close to this here Portugal the old girl started to take on water. Well Cap'n, as you may know, we was carrying far too much in holds and the water was rising right fast. Now our Master was an old sea dog and could see there was no way O' saving ship and crew. Well Cap'n, the Master sent up rocket to warn convoy of trouble and; as it was approaching night he called for all to take to the boats." The Second Mate paused to take a deep drink of the cooling cafe before continuing. "Now then Cap'n, the Master took his boy what was working his way as cabin boy to his Da and also had two men to man the oars. As they pulled away into the dark the rest of us prepared the ship and watched as the skiff was swallowed up in the dark. Now once the skiff was not to be seen no more we went back below and closed all the cocks and began to pump out the bilges. The escort had come in close just before dark and saw we was low in the water and then left to protect the rest of the convoy as they had been ordered. Well Cap'n, here we was all alone in the dark and the last of the convoy had disappeared so it was time to save the ship and make for a safe harbour." "I don't see how you could have sunk and all died then Mister Mate?" "Ah now Cap'n, I be coming to that right soon. Well Cap'n here we was all lost in the dark of night and we hear this loud rushing of water, now we all knows what that was; rough water ahead it was Cap'n. Now the old girl was labouring hard to hold tack when we see's this here wild water ahead. Well Cap'n caught us fair and square it did and so down the old girl went with all hands and cargo. Right nasty time it was Cap'n. We be thinking that the army was going to be right put out by the loss of the old girl being as we was carrying such valuable cargo." "So I assume you must all have swum ashore and been saved as you are here right now?" "Not atall Cap'n, drowned we all was, the old girl hit bottom as we was shaking hands with Davey Jones himself." "Uhm Mister Mate it still does not tell me how you got here?" "I is coming to that part Cap'n. Well you see Cap'n, here we was waiting for old girl to sink right under us all when she hit bottom; seems we accidentally got into this here small bay and the ship was sitting on bottom with her bow on the shore. Right strange how she got there Cap'n but ours is not to reason the way of Davey Jones. Well Cap'n we waited for the light of day and then seen we was in this little bay and all hidden away from the open sea so I got out small letter written by Cap'n Rat and did as it said. Took us five days to find yon village and then get brought right to you Cap'n." "You have still not told me why Captain Rat asked you to find us Mister Mate?" "Oh aye, right you are Cap'n. You see Cap'n as I said before, we was carrying right important supplies for army but as how we was now sunk and all on board is dead, Cap'n Rat told us to find a place to unload said supplies where they would do most good." "And what are these supplies Mister Mate?" "Did I not tell you Cap'n?" Thomas did not miss the twinkle in the mate's eye. "No Mister Mate you overlooked that part." "Well bless me Cap'n, must be old age catching up to old bones. Well Cap'n we was carrying twenty of them twelve pounder gun's aboard deck with four caissons, the rest being aboard another ship; and our hold was filled with powder and shot. I was told there is enough there for two or three big battles were it to be saved from a watery grave Cap'n." Thomas's jaw dropped at the news, it seemed Mister Percy had his own way of helping Thomas and the Council of the Black Hand had done the rest. Thomas smiled at the Second Mate and then asked. "That's indeed fortunate that your ship sank right on the shore of a hidden bay Mister Mate. How long do you think it would take for someone to help you unload your cargo so you can take to the sea once again?" "Well Cap'n, if my timing is right I would hazard a guess that the men have mostly unloaded the cargo or a fair amount at least. If you were to have enough men and horses to make the bay I would say about four to five days to get there and then perhaps another day to refloat the old girl. Once that is done we may be able to spend a little time to change her look so the crew can find other employment with a new ship under them. If my memory serves me right I seem to recollect that the old Master did sell off all his rights to old ship before he went to look for safety with the convoy in the skiff." "I see Mister Mate; so If I knew where to get about seven hundred young men to help refloat the ship we could have all the cargo for payment?" "That's the thinking I was having Cap'n." "Well you may be in luck Mister Mate; I just happen to have a few men free in a day or so. This afternoon we have an important meeting with all the men and then we should be free to assist any sailors that may have been accidently put ashore with their ship." "Thankee Cap'n, right happy we would be to get back asea; this here land walking is not good for old sea legs." "Then I will ask you and your friends to stay here for the night and we can make our way to your bay tomorrow with men to spare." "Thankee Cap'n; if you will tell us old sea dogs where to sling hammocks we will let you get back to your business of making the French run for their lives." Thomas gave a snort of laughter as he asked Fairley to take the three sailors to one of the barracks where they could spend the night; for himself there was still the need to finalise the meeting for this afternoon. As lunch was served to the three friends, Jones arrived with a stack of papers and three new ledgers which he placed on an empty section of the large table; his blush also told the three that he had also had a small surprise from the new orders. "So everything is finished Mister Jones?" "Yes Sir, all is ready as you wanted. Uhm...Sir?" "Yes Jones?" "Is it real you want me to have that rank and position?" "Was it written in those notes I gave you Mister Jones?" "Well yes Sir." "Then it must be true, I need you to fulfil that position for us Mister Jones; if you need help then find some of the others to help you; perhaps one or two of the wounded that can no longer fight. I feel bad that there is little for them now they are unable to march or help and I want to keep us all together like always." "Thank you Sir, I will do as you ask. Sir there is one thing that I think you should be made aware of." "What's that Mister Jones?" "The young lad that lost his leg Sir. Seems it has hit him pretty hard and I have fears for him Sir." "Thank you Mister Jones, perhaps you can find him for me and bring him to lunch with us; there has been enough losses for us without losing one more for no reason. I'll look over these papers while you go and find him; if everything is right then we can tell everyone that the meeting is for 4 of the clock." Jones nodded and turned away to go and find the young teen he had seen looking very morose and lost as the lad sat all alone and well away from all the other troops. Jones found the teen still sitting alone, the look on the teen's face was one of hopelessness and Jones was sure his fears were well founded. Jones asked the teen what was wrong but all he got was a forlorn look and more tears to join those already on the teen's cheeks. Jones sat beside the teen and then said. "The Patron asks if you will join him for lunch." The teen looked over at Jones and, through the light sobs asked. "Me, the Patron asks for me? Why would he be concerned for a cripple?" "Because he cares for all his men even if they can no longer fight they are still his friends and he feels it is his duty to watch over every one of them." The teen nodded slowly and then struggled to rise as he hooked his crutches under his thin arms; he had lost so much weight after his injuries that he was no longer as strong and fit as before the battle and the loss of his left leg. Jones slowly kept pace with the teen as they moved towards the home of the Patron. Thomas watched the two men approach where he and the others were sitting at table for lunch. Thomas almost let a tear slip as he saw the young Spaniard hobble on his crutches towards them; his left leg had been amputated above the knee and the teen looked underweight and weakened by the surgery. Thomas waited until the two were standing beside the table before asking the wounded teen about himself. "What is your name? I have seen you many times in the front rank and you were always a brave and hard fighting member of my army." "I am Flores De Silva Patron." "Come and eat with us Flores De Silva, you are welcome at our table." Flores blushed at being singled out by his Patron; he could not understand why such a great commander would be bothered with him, he could no longer fight and seemed to have little use for any future battles. Flores sat a few places away from his Patron so as not to seem to familiar; he was in a position that he was not used to. "So Flores, I have heard you are troubled because you were injured in the battle at Olivenca; why would you feel like that, are the other men giving you trouble?" "No Patron, the others have tried to help me many times, it is only me. I feel I have no use anymore. With no leg I cannot fight for the Patron so there is no use for me here and there is nowhere else for me to go. The Patron's army was my only home." "Nonsense Flores, for my men there is always a place for them in our army. What did you do before fighting for us?" "I found work on the farms when I could Patron. The pay was small but enough to put food on my plate and clothes on my back." "So you know about farming Flores?" "A little Patron, mostly I watched over the sheep and goats and took them to market for the farmer; he would sometimes let me do the selling for him but under his eye; I found it exciting to bargain with the others." "Were you good at the bargaining Flores?" "The farmer said I was very good Patron. I would often get him the top price for his sheep." Thomas sat back as he watched the underfed teen fill his plate while Fairley poured a glass of wine for the injured teen. Thomas went through his mind and the list he had made for the promotions; in all honesty he could not ignore one of his men just because he had been wounded. Thomas looked at Jones and then pushed the paper of Promotions towards him. "Mister Jones please add the name of Flores De Silva to the list of promotions. He is to be given the office of Procurement Officer and the rank of Lieutenant. Flores De Silva, from this day you are responsible for obtaining all the livestock for the armies needs. Mister Jones will give you the purse each month and it will be your duty to make sure there is always enough meat on the table for the men. You will deal honestly with the people who sell to you and will make a report of your spending to Mister Jones each month. Do you accept this post Flores De Silva?" "But Patron, how will I move around, with my legs missing it would take months to walk to the farms that are selling stock?" "The small cart will be yours to use from this day on; Don Estaban will find a good mule for your use and it will be stocked with what you need to set camp each night. I will also find you a boy to help with the camp if you like or perhaps you have someone in mind to help you?" "There is one of the younger boys who helps in the kitchen that is from the same place where I was born Patron, I am sure he would help me." "Then it is settled Lieutenant De Silva; you are now in charge of all live stock procurement. Your duties will begin tomorrow so that Don Estaban has time to get your cart ready. Now then eat up and tell us more about your life." Thomas tried to ignore the free flowing tears on the cheeks of Flores as the teen gulped before trying to swallow his food. Thomas suddenly felt a great deal better now that he could finally see the results of doing something good for one of his injured; he promised himself he would spend more time looking at ways to help those who could no longer fight due to wounds. After the slowly eaten lunch, Thomas and his friends went to find somewhere to spend the next two hours of siesta as the torrid heat of the middle of the day shone down on them. This year it was unseasonally hot and should have already gotten colder this close to winter even though the days were shorter and in the far distance was the ever present threat of rain or snow. Once he had awoken from his afternoon nap, Thomas began to dress in his work day uniform; once finished he went to read through the papers that Jones had prepared for the meeting. Thomas hoped he was doing the right thing by re-organising the army along new lines but he also wanted a more mobile force for what he planned in the not too distant future. There would have to be minor changes as he now would have the use of twenty guns; they also would need a new organisation for what he wanted to achieve. As the time for the general meeting approached, Thomas saw all of his army making their way to the newly built construction at the end of the valley. There was a lot of light laughter and speculation as to what the Patron was going to do now that he had returned to them. The last few months had been hard on all of the men even though they had much to do under the ever watchful eye of Don Estaban. Many days had been spent building the new additions to the camp as well as others going out to help the people of Vimeiro. They all felt like the people were now part of their own family and they also felt it was a small way to repay the village for the aide they had freely given when the small army had first stood to the guns on that far off day. Now that their Patron had returned to them in good health, they all wanted to get back to their main job of harassing the French in their own unique way. There was also the factor that they could once again seek their revenge on the French for past grievances done to their families or to their country as a whole. Thomas took one last look in the small mirror on the wall of the front room. While he did not like the idea of being stood out by the attachment of the gold braid; he at least had kept it to the minimum for his day uniform. His overall uniform was still the same cut and in the same black cloth. His sash was the same one he had now had for three years and was showing its age as some of the edges were a little frayed and; even though there had been many attempts to clean it, it still showed faint smudges where dried blood had been cleaned off. His hat was once again the same flat crowned black one that had been worn since the first time and his boots were also the same. There was no way Thomas would part with them if for no other reason than they held his hidden knives and were comfortable. Thomas's new jacket was the same style of Bolero but now it had three thin rings of gold braid around the edge of his right hand cuff and his thin shoulder tabs also had finely worked gold braid on them. Even this part had been remade for Thomas, there was no longer the usual pins, medallions or heavy braid covering any of their uniforms; Thomas had been happy to pare it all down to what was now seen. For the Colonels there were two rings of gold braid on the sleeve and the new Majors would have one. The new Captains would have three silver braid rings; the 1st Lieutenants would have two and the 2nd Lieutenants would have a single ring. For the soon to be new Sergeants there would be three white cloth rings and the Corporals would have two or one depending on their seniority. Thomas had determined that his Originals would still wear their special badge but now placed on their chest as a mark of their service to the little army of guerrillas as they were still highly respected by all those who came along later. All the men would have to re-sign articles for their inclusion in a Spanish force but their pay would not be altered although Jones would now keep a new set of ledgers for the new force but carry over all that was owed to the men from when they were under English orders. Thomas heard a soft cough at the front door and turned to see Carmelo and Estaban waiting for them in their new uniforms; it was time to tell all the men what was going to happen from this day forward. As Thomas and the other two approached the new meeting place; he saw that all of the flat stone seats were filled and there was a hub-bub of talk going on as the mass of his army tried to work out what it was all going to be about. Thomas walked to the flat stone table set up below the new seating; he found he could easily see everyone from that central point; it was a well planned addition to the valley. It took only seconds for silence to descend as Thomas, who was flanked by Carmelo and Estaban, laid the papers on the stone table top; with a last glance at all the men gathered he gave a soft cough to clear his throat before beginning. Much to Thomas's surprise and before he could say a word, all the men jumped up and stood at attention; after giving a smart salute they all called out as loud as their voices would allow. "Viva Patron, Viva Patron, Viva Patron." The loud sound reverberated around the valley as Thomas felt a tear dribble down his cheek; the outgoing of welcome and friendship was not lost as the men finally sat back on their seats to wait for his words. Thomas unconsciously wiped the tear from his cheek with the sleeve of his jacket before getting down to business; with a final glance at all the expectant faces before him he began. "Thank you all for the welcome home, I'm really glad to be back with you all. Over the last few months I have been giving a lot of thought about how we should continue and in what form we will fight the French. His Highness the Prince of Anglona and the Cortes of Spain have given us a new name and new direction. As most of you may already know, the English have forgotten about us and declared that we no longer exist in their army. The Cortes has seen fit to give us new hope and for that we have to reorganise and fight in a new way. The Cortes has said we have free reign to fight the French in any manner we wish as long as it rids Spain and Portugal of their presence. Now then, towards this end I have new promotions and new formations for us to use." Thomas paused to take a breath and wait for everything to sink in before continuing. "Before we go further I would like to tell our gunners of some news we have just received. It appears that a ship has gone aground in a bay only a few days from here, on board the ship are twenty new guns that we can use and all we have to do is go and get them. Mister Morgan I would like you to arrange for your gunners and the horses for twenty guns; Colonel Colosio will see to the wagons needed to bring back the powder and shot." Thomas paused again as the talk went around the men at the news they would once again have guns to help them. When there was silence once more, Thomas continued. "I have here a list of the new Officers and the new arrangement of the army, as I read out the new Officers names I would like you to come up here so the men can see who is who." Thomas stopped once again as he sorted through the papers on the table until he had the one with the promotions written on it along with the new formations before beginning again. "Firstly we will now be known as the 1st Regiment of Spanish Guerrillas, we will keep our colours as they are except for the English flag which will no longer be flown alongside our own. If, when you have all heard what I have to say, you no longer wish to fight with us then Mister Jones will see to your payment of all money owed to you; if you wish to stay and fight them we will need for all of you to re-sign articles as members of the Spanish forces. The final decision is yours alone and we will not interfere with any man or boy who wants to leave." Thomas paused again before taking up the two pages he wanted. "I am staying to fight and will accept the rank given to me by the Cortes as will Colonel Colosio and Colonel Grey. The following promotions will be effective from today if they are accepted by the men concerned and they wish to stay and fight. The following are the new formations and the new Officers who will take charge of them." Thomas looked at the expectant faces of the men on the stone seats around the meeting place; it was time to tell them what was ahead. "Colonel Colosio is now overall Commander of the Cavalry. Colonel Grey is overall Commander of Infantry and Colonel Lorenco will be overall Commander of Scouts. Lieutenant Morgan will be promoted to Major and will Command the guns and the following men are promoted also to Major and take charge of their respective forces and positions." Thomas then read out the rest of the new promotions and their place in the new forces. When he had finally finished this first part of the meeting he stopped and waited while the mass of his army talked over the new promotions and renewed types of forces and what it would mean for them all. When the men seemed as though they had accepted and were also mostly in favour of the new forces and Officers, Thomas began again after raising his hands for silence. "I see that most of you think the new ideas are better than being under the orders of the English. Before I continue I would like to ask all those who no longer wish to fight to come and tell Mister Jones so he can see to your due payments of wages so you may leave when you feel ready." Thomas stopped and waited but was not really surprised that not a single man wanted to leave; some had nowhere else to go and felt that this strange little army was their family; others wanted another chance at revenge on their French invaders but whatever the reason no one wanted to leave, they had all thrown their lot in with the young Patron and where not about to change anything just because they now had a new name. "There is one important promotion that needs to be mentioned and is under the direct orders of the Cortes. Private Maketja! Please come to the front." Thomas and the others waited until the young figure of the gypsy boy stood before them; he had a rather nervous look on his young face as he watched his friends standing before him. Thomas raised his voice as he looked around the tiered seating at the expectant men. "Maketja, you came to us as a prisoner and with little hope for a future. Over time we have all come to accept you and many of us owe you our lives more than once. At Olivenca you stood alone and exposed to the French Cavalry so you could help to save all of us from a sure defeat and death; for these acts of bravery, the Cortes of Spain has given a special decree that you be promoted to Captain and awarded the medallion of a Hero of Spain. Captain Maketja your duties will now be as the Scout Commander of the Cartographers. Your duty will be to see to the safety of the new formation to be known as the Cartographers under the command of Major Smithson. All of your duty will probably be behind the French lines so that Major Smithson can make detailed maps of all the possible sites where we may face the French. The lives of Major Smithson's men will be entirely in your hands and in those who you wish to select for your force. Captain Maketja: Every man here thanks you for what you did to save us all at Olivenca; we will never be able to repay you for saving so many." Thomas watched as Maketja blushed for the first time that Thomas could remember. For Maketja it was a new feeling that he had never felt before. The Romani were usually the object of jibes and curses so it was completely new for him to be the centre of attention and pointed out as someone special; it got even more pointed when Thomas called out loudly so everyone could hear. "Men of the 1st Regiment of Spanish Guerrillas: Attention. Three cheers for Captain Maketja: hero of Olivenca and saviour of the Corps. HIP, HIP?" All around the valley the echo of every voice in the camp was heard as they answered. "HUZZAH" Thomas called the cheer three times with the same result and all Maketja could do was blush as he felt a tear run down his face; nowhere had he ever felt so welcome as he did at that moment. Gone was any suspicion that usually hung around the Romani gypsies when they made contact with outsiders, here he was truly one of them. At last Maketja had found his home and now he had even more reason to rid the land of the French. Once everyone had settled down Thomas went back to reading out the new promotions and how they would now form up the army. There was to be an increase in the number of mounted musket riders and the Infantry was reduced to two smaller Corps but would now follow a new and tougher training regime. The soon to be new guns would now be changed into four batteries of five guns even though a battery was normally only two guns but there was also now a special battery made up of the newly used rockets but it would have sixteen frame launchers so that they could fire thirty two rockets in a barrage. Estaban as Commander of Cavalry was now tasked with finding enough mounts for the extras he would have to train as; even with all the French horses they had captured there would still not be enough for the planned three full troops that they hoped would be of one hundred men each. Thomas soon passed onto Estaban about the collection he had started back at the Hacienda; it would only need for Estaban to take enough men back there to bring the horses through to Vimeiro. Finally as the afternoon grew towards dusk Thomas closed the large meeting; he now needed to organise for the march tomorrow to get their guns and supplies from the waiting ship in the bay north of Peniche where it was hidden from prying eyes by the men with Second Mate Bowden. It turned out that when they left the following morning with the many empty wagons and unencumbered artillery horses, they were to make the bay in only two and a half days. The speed at which this young army of men, many of whom were not much older than boys totally surprised the Second Mate and his friends; they had had to ride on one of the wagons as they would have had little hope of staying the pace with the others. For Second Mate Bowden it had been a real eye opener; he could now understand the awe in which this young army of misfits had been held by the powers that be and now he could see why they were able to harry the French for more than three years and not be caught. As they came in full sight of the small bay Thomas was able to see the full vista before him. For some little time they had been able to make out the two tall masts of a ship in the distance but now he could really see what was lying in wait for he and his men. The ship was, just as he had been told; slipped with its stubby bow on the beach but there were two thick rope cables laying out to sea from the stern which was still in the water. At the bow ran two more cables which ended in two large and heavy anchors set into the deep sand of the beach. Above the beach were huge stacks of what appeared to be many kegs and boxes under the canvas of what must have been spare sails. It was easy to pick out the covers of the guns by their shape and the way they were neatly lined up in two ranks on the more solid ground above the sand. Thomas was awed at the amount of cargo he saw and it was still being brought ashore by means of the main masts being used as cranes and then the crew would either carry the boxes or; if they were too large or heavy; roll them on smaller spars across the sand. Thomas knew that the ship's crew must have been working like slaves to get so much ashore with so few men. It was time to meet the crew and see to their windfall. Craven Morgan looked as though he was chomping at the bit when his eyes settled on the two lines of covered guns; Thomas was not going to keep him waiting any longer. TBC.