4 Under Siege (13 page)

‘How on earth did she know it was my favourite?’

‘She has a way of finding out these things.’

‘Well, she can stop finding out things about me because I don’t like anyone poking their nose into my business – especially if it’s a woman like her.’

‘Rachel is a courageous lady. When I asked her to go into Lille with me, she didn’t hesitate to come.’

‘And where did it get her? Locked up.’

‘That’s not her fault, Henry.’

‘The woman is a menace. Leave her there, I say.’

‘Don’t be so unkind,’ scolded Daniel. ‘You may not like Rachel Rees but she made lots of friends at the tavern where we stayed. A sergeant – looking rather like you, now I come to think of it – was so smitten that he tried to jump into bed with her. I had to dump him in the horse trough to cool his ardour.’

‘Well, you won’t have to do that with me,’ said Welbeck with asperity. ‘I’ve no ardour to cool.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Listen, Dan, I’m sorry that you have this problem but I’m not the person who can help you solve it. Take someone else – Lieutenant Ainley, for instance.’

Daniel grinned. ‘He’s the
last
person I’d choose.’

‘You wouldn’t need to ask him twice.’

‘I wouldn’t even bother to do it once. Jonathan knows the reason why. In fact, he admitted as much to me earlier. No matter what sort of disguise he had, he’d look and sound exactly what he is. He’d never convince anyone that he was a French soldier.’

‘French soldier?’ repeated Welbeck, incredulously.

‘Well, we can hardly ride up to Lille in
these
uniforms.’

‘I’m not going in any uniform, Dan. Whatever
harebrained
scheme you have this time, keep me out of it. My work is here, trying to turn the latest useless recruits into something akin to soldiers. It’s like making bricks without straw.’

‘Other sergeants could do that job. Only you can help me.’

‘You’re a liar, Dan Rawson.’

‘You are, Henry. I know that I can trust you. Besides, you have a personal interest. You know Rachel.’

Welbeck was puce. ‘I have no personal interest in
any
woman,’ he asserted, ‘least of all that particular harpy! I’m certainly not going to risk my life so that she can come back here to be a nuisance.’

‘You may have second thoughts. Yes,’ Daniel went on, quickly, ‘I know that it seems unlikely, but I ask you to remember this. Think how much you enjoyed that visit you and I made to the French camp before the battle of Oudenarde. I could see that you were thrilled by it. And when I was held captive, you didn’t turn your back on me. You used cunning and bravery to rescue me.’ He took a step closer. ‘It was reckless of us to go there but you loved every second of it, Henry.’

Leaving his friend to consider his request, Daniel mounted his horse and rode back to Marlborough’s quarters in the main camp to give a fuller account of the new defences he’d seen being built in Lille and to describe the inspirational effect of Marshal Boufflers’ arrival in the town.

‘It’s hardly surprising,’ said Cardonnel. ‘Boufflers used to be governor of French Flanders and of Lille itself. They adore him.’

‘He’s had a distinguished career,’ conceded Marlborough, ‘and, even at his advanced age, he has the energy for a fight. Pray God that
I’m
not still in uniform when I’m in my sixties. King Louis has sent the right man. He’ll be a worthy opponent.’

‘I agree, Your Grace. Marshal Boufflers is well versed in military engineering and no French commander has withstood so many sieges. It’s no wonder they cheered him to the echo.’

‘I was on the ramparts when it happened,’ recalled Daniel. ‘He was welcomed like a deliverer. However, he’s not always been the victor,’ he reminded them. ‘I fought with King William when we besieged Namur in 1695. The marshal was forced to surrender after losing two-thirds of his 13,000 men.’

‘Let’s hope we don’t have to kill quite so many before he gives in this time,’ said Marlborough, solemnly. ‘There’ll come a point when he realises it’s senseless to go on. To reach that point, of course, we have to maintain a constant bombardment of the town and have a ready supply of food and ammunition. It’s going to be a tricky exercise,’ he confessed, gazing down at the plan of Vauban’s defences. ‘We could be here until Christmas.’

The discussion went on for a long time and Daniel felt privileged to be taken into the captain-general’s confidence. The plan that he’d retrieved from Lille would be sent to Prince Eugene who was in charge of siege operations. It would help him to decide on the best mode of attack. Knowing exactly what they were up against was a real bonus. Because he didn’t intend to set out until evening, Daniel was going to dine with Ainley and some of the other officers. After all his exertions, it would be good to have a respite. Before that, however, he needed to return to his quarters. On the way there, he caught a glimpse of someone dodging between the tents. When he stopped to look more closely, the figure had disappeared. Deciding that he’d been mistaken, Daniel walked briskly on.

His mind was still grappling with the problem of how to rescue Rachel Rees and with the more difficult task of persuading Henry Welbeck to join him in the venture. Preoccupied and off guard, he wasn’t ready for the attack. For as soon as he entered his quarters, he was tripped up and sent head first to the ground. Rolling quickly over, he saw that the point of a sword was being held inches from his neck.

‘Remember me?’ asked a voice.

Since the man was not in uniform, Daniel didn’t recognise him at first. His attacker was dressed in civilian clothing and wore a hat that came low over his forehead. It was the voice that told Daniel who his unwelcome visitor was. The Hessian cavalry officer whom he’d beaten and shamed had come for revenge. Poised for a fatal thrust, Erich Schlager stood over him and grinned malevolently.

‘Where is she?’ he demanded.

‘Who are you talking about?’

‘That fat sow who owes me two horses.’

‘Her name is Rachel Rees,’ said Daniel, calmly, ‘and she owes you nothing whatsoever.’

‘Tell me where she is. I came here for both of you.’

‘The horses have both been sold.’

‘That’s not what I asked,’ said Schlager, prodding Daniel’s chest with the point of his sword. ‘Where will I find her?’

‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’

‘If she’s in this camp, my man will sniff her out. He found you for me in the end. Where should he start looking for Rachel Rees?’

‘In the town of Lille,’ replied Daniel.

‘Don’t jest with me, Captain Rawson,’ warned the man, jabbing him again. ‘Be kind to yourself. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll make it a quick death. Lie to me and I’ll cut off your ears, your nose and your balls before digging out your heart.’

‘I swear to you that I’m telling the truth. Rachel is in Lille.’

‘And what could she possibly be doing there?’

Faint hope stirred. Daniel’s survival rested on his being able to keep the man talking for as long as he could. The Hessian could have killed him already but he needed information first. Daniel tried to turn that information to his advantage.

‘I was sent to Lille on an assignment,’ he explained. ‘It was at the special request of His Grace, the Duke of Marlborough.’

‘Yes, I know that you’re attached to his staff.’

‘To get into the town, I went in disguise, wearing those clothes over there.’ Schlager turned his head to look at the items draped over the back of a chair. ‘Rachel came with me, posing as my wife.’

Schlager goggled. ‘Your
wife
?’ he said with disgust. ‘Who’d ever think of marrying that bloated whore?’

‘She’s not a whore,’ said Daniel, stoutly. ‘She’s a brave woman who risked her life for a cause in which
you
ought to believe. Good heavens, man! We’re fighting on the same side. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?’ Schlager’s eyelids fluttered. It had obviously never entered his mind. ‘As for husbands, Rachel has already buried two of them after they’d been killed in battle. Such is the lot of a soldier’s wife. Since then she’s struggled along as best she can.’

Schlager took a step backward. ‘Why is she still in Lille?’

‘I don’t know. They arrested her as we left.’

‘Why was that?’

‘I wish I had the answer,’ said Daniel, mind whirring as he sought a means of escape. ‘I was the one carrying what we went there to steal but they stopped her at the main gate. If you don’t believe me, the Duke of Marlborough will confirm every word I say. He’ll also suggest to you that it’s not the function of Allies to kill each other when we have a common enemy to defeat. Do you want to do the French army’s work for them?’ He tried to reason with the man. ‘I can see why I made you so angry,’ he continued, ‘but you have to admit that it was a fair fight. I gave you far more chance than you’re giving me.’

‘You let that woman mock me,’ said Schlager, wincing at the memory. ‘When I got back to camp without a horse, I was a laughing stock. You and she must pay for that.’

‘Rachel is miles away in Lille.’

‘Then you must die first, Captain Rawson.’

‘Wait!’ said Daniel, sitting up and raising his palm. ‘Honour is at stake here. You have every right to demand satisfaction. I accept that. Let me have my sword and we’ll find somewhere quiet to fight a duel.’

Schlager sniggered. ‘I’m not such a fool as that. The minute you have a weapon in your hand, you’ll call out for help and your friends will come running. I’ll be outnumbered.’

‘I give you my word that I won’t do that.’

‘You won’t get the opportunity.’

Daniel was in earnest. ‘This is between you and me,’ he urged. ‘Let’s settle it like soldiers and men of honour. You can choose the place right now.’

Schlager paused long enough to consider the suggestion. The brief distraction was his downfall. Noting the hesitation, Daniel leapt to his feet in an instant and grabbed the chair, shaking the items of apparel to the ground. The next moment he was using it to fend off the violent attack that was suddenly unleashed. Schlager came at him as if in a cavalry charge, his sword flailing away with brutal power. Pieces of wood were hacked viciously off the chair and went spinning in the air. When one of the legs was snapped clean off by the force of a blow, Daniel realised that he couldn’t hold out for long. What his makeshift shield did, however, was to give him the opportunity to work his way to the corner where his own sword was hanging. Flinging the chair into the Hessian’s face, he drew his sabre and squared up to his man.

‘Now we can fight on equal terms,’ said Daniel, breathlessly. ‘Cowards like you only strike when they have all the advantages.’

‘I’m no coward!’ yelled Schlager, throwing his hat aside.

‘Prove it.’

The Hessian launched another attack, lunging dementedly away in a bid to slaughter his man quickly. Daniel parried every thrust and ducked under every desperate swing. Even in the confined space of a tent, he used his superior footwork to effect, dodging, weaving and throwing his adversary off balance. Sparks went everywhere as the blades clashed. The noise was deafening. There was a loud tearing sound as the point of Schlager’s sword ripped accidentally through the canvas. He was panting heavily and beginning to slow down. Sweat oozed out of every pore. His act of revenge had turned into a fight for his life. Cursing himself for not killing his prisoner when he had the chance, he hurled himself forward again and made one last, wild, murderous thrust. Daniel anticipated him and, as he parried the blade, stepped smartly to one side, bringing his own sword in a swift arc to cut clean through the Hessian’s wrist. Erich Schlager howled in agony. He looked down with mingled horror and disbelief at his sword, now on the ground with his hand still clasped around it. Blood was pouring out of the wound. Crying in pain, he put the stump under his other arm in a bid to stem the bleeding.

It was at that moment that Jonathan Ainley opened the tent flap and pushed in the man with the close-set eyes.

‘What’s going on, Captain Rawson?’ he asked, taking in the scene. ‘I heard sounds of a fight and found this man lurking outside your quarters.’

Daniel took control. ‘Fetch a surgeon, Lieutenant,’ he ordered, grabbing the shirt from the ground to use as a tourniquet. ‘We have to keep this devil alive to face a court martial.’

Rievers Hall was magnificent. Dating back to the reign of Henry VIII, it was a fortified manor house encircled by a deep moat. Amalia Janssen and her father were dazzled by its combination of architectural beauty and awesome solidity. Such daunting battlements would allow the inhabitants of the house to withstand a siege for a long time. The carriage delivered them to the massive oak front door and a liveried servant let them in and conducted them to their hosts. Both of the visitors had taken immense care with their dress and with their appearance but they were made to feel embarrassingly commonplace in the presence of the Duchess of Marlborough, who was attired with regal splendour. Diamond rings and a gorgeous diamond necklace added to her grandeur. Her manner was condescending but she did show a genuine interest in Emanuel Janssen’s design for the tapestry.

‘This is very stirring,’ she complimented. ‘My husband tells me that you had the help of someone who actually fought at Ramillies.’

‘That’s true, Your Grace,’ he said. ‘His name is Captain Daniel Rawson and he was beside your husband during the battle.’

‘Yes, I’ve met Captain Rawson more than once. He’s a most admirable soldier.’

Amalia was delighted to hear Daniel being praised. She’d hoped for an apology from the duchess for the offhand way the visitors had been treated at Blenheim Palace but it was not forthcoming. It soon became clear that Sarah never deigned to apologise. All that she was concerned about was the tardiness of the builders and what she perceived as their excessive costs. She railed against everyone, from the architect to the lowliest stonemason. Sir John Rievers tried to jolly her out of her obsession with the house and her interest shifted to the war. Another string of complaints followed, many of them directed against scheming politicians whom she accused of working behind Marlborough’s back to weaken his position as the overall commander. When she’d vented her fury, she rose to her feet, made a few gracious remarks to each of them and withdrew.

‘I thought Her Grace was dining with us,’ said Janssen.

‘No,’ replied Sir John. ‘She had a prior invitation but was kind enough to show her face here for your benefit. As you saw, she is in essence a delightful lady. Sarah’s bark is far worse than her bite.’

‘That’s a dreadful expression,’ complained his wife.

He gave a ripe chuckle. ‘But nevertheless apt, I think.’

‘I couldn’t disagree with you more.’

‘I’m sorry if the expression offended your sensibilities, my love,’ he said, penitently. ‘I’ll amend it. A better way of putting it is that Sarah may have a reputation for being combative but she has a softer side that can transform her into the semblance of an angel.’

Lady Rievers smiled. ‘That’s going too far, my dear.’

Amalia had taken to her hostess at once. Lady Rievers was a stately woman with a ravished beauty. Arthritis had crippled her joints and something was eating her slowly away. There was an almost deathly pallor on her cheeks. She bore her afflictions with remarkable dignity and without even a trace of self-pity. What struck Amalia was the way in which her husband treated her. Sir John was patient and attentive, helping her to her feet when they adjourned to the dining room and lowering her gently into her chair. It was noticeable that she could only use one hand. Throughout the meal, therefore, he sat beside her so that he could cut up some of the food on her plate. All the time, he kept the conversation flowing.

‘What is your next commission?’ he asked Janssen. ‘You’ll be weaving a tapestry of the battle of Oudenarde, I daresay.’

‘His Grace has not approached me yet,’ said Janssen. ‘Nor will he do so until he’s seen the Ramillies tapestry. What happens next depends on how pleased he is with my work.’

‘He’ll be thrilled, Mr Janssen.’

‘I endorse that,’ said Lady Rievers, sweetly. ‘I’ve seen one of your tapestries and thought it superb.’

‘Thank you, Lady Rievers.’

‘Listen to my wife,’ advised Sir John. ‘Barbara has excellent taste. It’s the reason she chose to marry me.’

His guests joined in the laughter. Amalia could see how little Lady Rievers ate of the meal but she herself was unable to match the appetite shown by the two men. The quantity and quality of the food was way beyond what she customarily had. The first course comprised a leg of mutton with cauliflower, a steak pie, a shoulder of lamb and a dish of peas. This was followed by a sweetbread pie, a capon, a gooseberry tart and a mixture of seasonal fruit. Wine was served at regular intervals but Amalia was abstemious.

‘How do you go about it, Mr Janssen?’ said Lady Rievers. ‘With a tapestry like your latest one, for instance, where did you start?’

‘You can’t expect him to give away the tricks of the trade, my love,’ joked Sir John. ‘He’s too afraid that we might pick his brains and set up as weavers ourselves.’

‘Not at all,’ said Janssen. ‘I’ll be happy to explain. In the case of a battle, it’s important to combine drama with verisimilitude. If it’s to hang in Blenheim Palace, it will be seen over the years by a large number of people, some of whom might well have fought at Ramillies.’

‘Captain Rawson will be one of them,’ said Amalia, involuntarily.

‘The first thing I was shown was the order of battle.’

‘Let me explain,’ said Sir John to his wife. ‘That’s the order of battle drawn up by the quartermaster-generals so that everyone knows his exact position in the field.’

‘At Ramillies,’ resumed Janssen, ‘the dragoons were on the wings, the cavalry were on the flanks and the infantry were in the centre. His Grace was on a hill overlooking the battlefield, so I was able to show it from his perspective. He will thus be on horseback in the foreground with the fighting taking place below him.’

‘And what of this fellow who offered expert advice?’

‘Captain Rawson was of immense help to me.’

‘What’s his regiment?’

‘It’s the 24
^th
Regiment of Foot, Sir John.’

‘I was a major in the dragoons.’

‘Don’t remind me,’ said Lady Rievers, raising a skeletal hand to her brow. ‘I worried so much when you were in the army. Appalling things can happen in warfare. I wanted my husband here with me where he was safe and sound.’

He gave her arm an affectionate squeeze. ‘That’s where I’m content to be, my love – at home in the bosom of my family. Not that we see anything of the twins these days. They’ve both flown the coop. But tell us more about this Captain Rawson,’ he went on. ‘He sounds like an interesting character.’

‘Oh, he is,’ said Amalia, face radiant.

‘My daughter is the best person to talk about him,’ said Janssen with a smile. ‘Captain Rawson rescued her from perilous situations on two separate occasions. I doubt if anyone is as well qualified to speak about him as Amalia.’

‘How ever did he get into the camp in the first place?’

‘That’s what I want to know,’ said Daniel, angrily. ‘I’ve asked Lieutenant Ainley to look into it while I’m away. What were the piquets doing letting unauthorised civilians walk around at will?’

‘Someone should be punished for this,’ said Welbeck, grimly. ‘Supposing you hadn’t been alone when you went into your quarters?’