Napoleon's Guard Page 6

  The colonel tut tutted, “Next time take a trooper with you. What happened?”

  “I was jumped by a Turk. If it had not been for Killer then I would be dead. How did I get here?”

  “Luckily for you the sentry knew what to do. He applied a tourniquet and brought you into camp. He saved your life. That was three days ago.”

  I struggled to rise, “Then I must thank him.”

  Jean put his arm on my shoulder and shook his head, “Trooper Carnet was killed on patrol yesterday.”

  I sank back and closed my eyes. Another dead trooper and a debt would now go unpaid. I heard Jean say. “Let us leave him alone. I think sleep may be the best medicine.”

  After they had gone I reflected that sleep might be the best medicine but it would not come. I could barely remember the trooper and yet he had saved my life. I thought of all the others who selfless actions had saved me in the past, Guiscard, Madame Lefondre, even my father and I had not thanked them or done anything in return. I resolved, as I lay in the tented hospital, that I would begin to live life differently. Each day would be as though it was my last and I would tell those around me that I valued them and I would thank them. I would make up for the omissions so far.

  I decided that I knew best and, the next day, when I awoke I was determined to ignore what the doctor had said. The problem was Jean. He had known me since birth and knew all of my ways; sometimes I believe that he knew what I was thinking. As I left my tent he strode up to me with a smile on his face that, in itself, was disconcerting. His smiles were rare. “Ah Captain Macgregor I am pleased to see that you are up. You are to be attached to the general’s staff for the next month. You are to become a temporary Guard for the general.” He pointed to the cot next to mine. On it was the red and green uniform of the Chasseur of the Guard.

  “What is this?”

  “Your new uniform until you recover and the general sends you back to us.”

  I slumped on to the bed. “But sir!”

  “It is for the best. That was a deep wound. With the heat and the dirt it could become infected. The headquarters building is cleaner and they have Bonaparte’s doctor on hand. I think you will enjoy it. Besides he asked for you. He has need of someone who can speak English. The wound means that the colonel and I can let you go without regrets.”

  I was defeated and I knew it. I pointed to the uniform. ”And this?”

  “The general wishes you to look the same his other Guards. This was made for an officer who died before he could join the army. It is new and we have had it altered to fit you.”

  “When?” I knew we had men with sewing skills in the regiment but I did not expect this.

  “It was done while you were unconscious. Now get into the uniform. Lieutenant Barrier and his troop will escort you to Cairo.”

  “His troop?”

  “Until you are well enough to command again, yes, it will be his troop. Why do you think he is not competent enough to run the troop? You promoted him.”

  “Of course I trust him but you make it sound permanent.”

  “Oh no, Robbie. You will be back here soon enough.”

  By the time I was dressed in my new uniform, Killer and my escort were waiting for me. Sergeant Manet looked quite concerned. “Sorry about your wound sir. I feel terrible about it. I should have sent a rider to tell you we were safe. Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “No sergeant, I have learned my lesson. I am not immortal and I cannot win this war all by myself.”

  I heard a chuckle from Tiny. I shot him a look which, in times past, would have made him shrivel but he just shrugged. “The troopers were worried sir; all of them. I am pleased that you have realised how close you came to death.” He appraised my uniform. “I like the uniform sir; very smart.”

  The lieutenant had grown up from the diffident and awkward youth into a confident leader. The troop would be in good hands. I wondered just what was in store for me at headquarters. My life, hitherto, had been one of action; how could I become a cipher? I looked at my right hand in a sling. I would not even be able to write. Would I just be a flunky for the general? I resigned myself to a boring month.

  General Bonaparte’s headquarters was quite obvious from the outside with the huge Tricolour and the large number of red and green guards. The sentry outside sharply saluted my new uniform. As I dismounted I said to Tiny, “Well lieutenant, you will need all the luck you can get. In my tent are the knife and the Mameluke sword I took from the men I killed. Take them. I shan’t need them for a while and I have learned that extra weapons are always handy.”

  “Thank you sir. I will put them to good use.”

  After they had trotted off I asked the sentry, “Where are the Guard stables?”

  He looked at me as though I had spoken a foreign language. “Sir? Just leave it here and someone will take it for you.”

  I looked at the trooper who was dressed as I was. He was not a real cavalryman. A real horseman looked after his horse. “Just point me in the right direction, trooper.” There was a snap to my voice I had not needed since my days as a sergeant.

  He snapped his heels together and pointed north. “Just around the corner sir.”

  After I had made sure that Killer had been fed and watered I returned to the trooper who was rigidly at attention as I entered the white building. Bessières smiled from his desk when I stood before him with my colpack in my hand. It felt insubstantial after the Tarleton helmet I had been used to “It suits you captain. I hope that you come to like us. We would like you to become a permanent member of the squadron.”

  I held up my bandaged arm which gave me the appearance of an injured bird. “I can’t see what use I would be like this.”

  He stood and led me out of the building. “And that is where you are wrong for we intend to have you working right now.” He turned to the lieutenant who was writing at the other desk. “Send Sergeant Delacroix to us. We will be with the prisoners.”

  Although I had only been in the building for a few minutes the bright sun and the white buildings were blinding as we left. I was just grateful that winter was almost upon us and it was much cooler than it had been when we had fought at the pyramids.

  “You are able to speak English, captain and we have captured some sailors from the English fleet. Even though our fleet was defeated we still managed to capture some of the men who survived in the sea. There are eight of them in the prison. We need you to question them. The general wishes to find out as much as he can about their fleet and their bases.”

  I remembered my times in prison. I had been in prison in San Marino as well as the dreaded Conciergerie and I felt some empathy for these sailors. “What will happen to them sir?”

  He gave me a puzzled look. “What do you mean captain?”

  “Are they to be exchanged? Sent to a prison hulk? What is their fate?”

  I could see that nothing had been planned for them beyond the basic questioning from me. He looked confused and puzzled. “I am not sure. What a curious question. We have no ships left never mind hulks and there are no English nearby with whom we could exchange them.” He paused and looked at me. “What would you suggest, captain?”

  “They may well be reluctant to speak with me unless I can offer them something in return. They will cost money to feed. If I promised them their freedom then they might give me information in return.”

  We continued walking as the colonel considered my words. “Your idea has merit. I suppose we could send them to Cyprus or Naples on the ‘Carillon’. ” He smiled, “We have at least retained the lucky sloop of yours. Yes, you have my permission to make that offer. Who knows the young lieutenant on the ‘Carillon’ may be able to gather intelligence when he lands them.”

  I was not bothered about any intelligence. I doubted that they would know much unless they were officers. I just did not like the idea of men rotting in a cell. The prospect had terrified me on two occasions and I would be able to do something to alleviate someone
else’s suffering.

  There were armed sentries on the main doors. I guessed that this had been a Turkish prison and the general had taken it over. Bessières took me to an empty room. It contained only a table and three chairs. “This is yours to use to interrogate the men. When the sergeant arrives he will act as your scribe to keep notes. The general will want daily reports but I expect this task to take you but a couple of days.” He looked at my hand and saluted. “I shall leave you now. The sergeant will bring you to the quarters you will be using.” He chuckled, “Here, we do not sleep in tents there are some benefits to serving in the city!”

  I looked down the corridor. “Where are the cells?”

  “Down there. They are the only prisoners. The general had those who were criminals executed and so each man has his own cell. They talk to no-one.” I realised that these men had been in solitary confinement since the battle some weeks earlier. It might make my task a little easier. “Well good luck captain.”

  With that he left and I looked at the bare office. I decided to wander down and inspect the men. The guard at the end saluted. The smell of human faeces hit me as soon as I walked along the dark and disturbingly damp corridor. I wondered how often they slopped out their waste. Perhaps I could do something about that and get the men on my side. They would be resentful. To them, when I spoke, I would appear a traitor. The last time I had interrogated a prisoner he had resented my uniform. I peered through the grille of the first cell. It was so dark I was not sure if it was occupied but a movement from a shadowy shape showed me that it was. The smell from the grille was even more powerful than the smell of the corridor. While I interrogated them I would see to it that their cells were cleaned.

  When Sergeant Delacroix arrived it was like meeting Albert Aristide again. He was of an age with the colonel and had the same look with the fine queue, pigtails and moustache. I wondered what he thought as he looked at this young officer he had to call sir.

  “Hello sergeant. I am Captain Macgregor.” I pointed to the table. We will be in here.”

  He nodded and said, “Sir.” There was no trace of any feelings in his words or his look. This soldier was a professional.

  I summoned the sentry. “Bring me the first prisoner and while we interrogate him have some of the workers clean out the cell.” I saw his mouth begin to open as he glanced at the sergeant. “Just do it trooper or I will have you and the rest of the detail doing it instead.” He snapped to attention and left. I caught the ghost of a smile from the sergeant.

  I turned to him. “I will tell you what to write in French. I am assuming they will not know French and it will mean you have to write down less. Much of what they say will be irrelevant anyway.”

  The first sailor I interrogated I would have guessed was in his twenties although, beneath the matted hair in which I could see the head lice crawling and the dirt on his face, it was hard to tell. Even though he did not appear to be wounded there were many scabs and scars on his hands, arms and legs. I suspected rats. I gestured to the seat and he sat down.

  I saw him blinking in the bright lights. He had been in the dark for so long he was almost a mole. I waited patiently until his eyes had adjusted and he looked at me. When I spoke I kept my voice calm and quiet. I remembered the Regent of San Marino when he had spoken to me in his prison. It had been his calm voice which had reassured me.

  “What is your name?”

  I saw him start as I spoke in English without an accent. “Er, Jamie Webb sir.”

  “My name is Captain Macgregor. What ship were you on?”

  It was an easy question to start and I already knew, from the information given to me by Colonel Bessières that they had all come from two ships. “The Orion sir.”

  “Good.” I pointed to his arms. “How did you come by those wounds Jamie?”

  “Rats sir. The cells are filled with the little buggers.”

  “Ah.” I would do something about that too. “Who commanded the fleet?” Again I knew I was on safe ground here but I needed confirmation.

  “Our Nel, Admiral Nelson sir.” There was clear pride and affection in his voice.

  I deliberately chose not to tell anything to the sergeant yet. As soon as he began to write then the prisoner would realise he was giving away information. I could see Jamie relaxing as we chatted. He had been on his own for so long I must have appeared as a saviour rather than an enemy. “Your Nel, he captured many ships, where would he take them?”

  “Leghorn or Naples those are the ports we sailed from.”

  This was much easier than I had expected. In my mind I determined that I would still tell the colonel that I had offered them their freedom. This young man before me was a sad picture of what could have happened to me but for fate. “And the rest of the fleet is still at Gibraltar?”

  “Sir? Should I be telling you all this?”

  I turned to the sergeant. “Their bases are Naples and Leghorn. I believe their fleet is at Gibraltar.” I looked the young man in the eye. “Do you want to get home, Jamie?”

  His eyes filled with tears. “Of course I do.”

  “Then just answer my questions and I give you my word that we will put you in a ship to take you to Naples.”

  He nodded, “Yes sir Gibraltar.”

  It became much easier then and he gave us the names of the captains and the ships. As he left he turned and asked, “Sir, did you mean what you said about going home?”

  “Yes Jamie, I did.”

  “Then God bless you sir.”

  The next five sailors all said roughly the same and the sergeant had a sheet of paper filled with the precious intelligence we had gathered. I decided that I would only interview the sixth man as I was certain that the information would be the same. The guard had told me that the sixth man was some sort of officer. As he came in I could understand why. His clothes looked to be of a slightly better quality but I suspected that he was not an officer but a naval version of a sergeant. He had tattoos and a scowling face. He was the antithesis of Jamie. He sat and stared sullenly at me.

  “What is your name?”

  As soon as I spoke he launched himself across the table at me. “You traitor!”

  He took the sergeant by surprise but I had seen the flicker of anger in his eyes and I had already begun to move out of the way. Sergeant Delacroix fell off the chair and crashed to the floor. I punched the sailor on the side of the head with my left hand as he lost his balance over the table. The guard rushed in with his musket levelled. I waved my hand. “We are safe. Drag him back to his cell.” The sentry called for aid and the two of them bumped the unconscious sailor back to his cell.

  As I helped the sergeant to his feet he grinned. “Well sir, you are deceptive. I thought a young officer like you would have been felled by that animal especially with the injured hand. That was a hefty punch!”

  “Thank you sergeant. I grew up working hard. I think we have gathered enough information for the colonel.”

  He nodded, “You ought to think about doing this regularly sir. You got more information out of those prisoners than most officers would have managed.”

  I shook my head. “I did not enjoy the experience. I have been a prisoner and I understand what they are going through.”

  The colonel was more than pleased with my speedy work. “Well done captain. This is useful information.” He leaned into me and spoke quietly, “Since your visit to Naples the general has become interested in that region. I believe that this will further pique his curiosity.”

  As Sergeant Delacroix handed the report over he saluted, “Good working with you sir. I hope you enjoy the posting.”

  The colonel said, “I am afraid we will be moving tomorrow and heading back to Alexandria. The general has business there.”

  “And the prisoners sir? I promised them…”

  “Of course and it means we will no longer have to maintain a guard.” He scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to his orderly. “Requisition a wagon for tomorro
w and inform the guards that the prisoners are to be made ready to move when we leave in the morning.”

  I chose not to eat in the mess with the others but found a local place which served some of the indigenous food. It was not that I did not wish to socialise with the officers of the Guard but I missed my comrades. I also did not relish the questions I knew I would have to endure. The food was cheap and wholesome. It was also far spicier than any food I had eaten before. I enjoyed it.

  Before we could head for Alexandria the populace rose in riot and revolt. We were in the old part of the town, called Old Cairo but Dupuy, the general in charge of the remainder of the garrison, was amongst those killed by the rioters. We were all ordered to present ourselves to the general. He was in no mood for any dissent. Colonel Bessières gave us our orders. “We are to drive the rioters back into the city. The infantry and the artillery will be there by the time we arrive.”

  General Bonaparte noticed me. He pointed to my hand, “I heard about your escapade Scotsman. Take care.” He tapped the leather satchel Bessières carried, “Thank you for that information.”

  “I just did my duty sir.”

  “True but you did it efficiently and I like that. I think the news of the freedom for the prisoners should come from you.”

  I wondered how much use I would be with one hand but I rode next to the sergeant and the colonel. The rest of the squadron rode behind us. I thought this strange as the general was in the fore. If we were attacked then he would be the first to be in danger. I surreptitiously checked that my pistol in my holster was loaded. The sergeant saw my movement. “Never had much use for them before sir. Do you like them?”

  “Like? No. Use? Yes. The trouble is once you have fired they are useless although they do make a nice club!”

  He laughed. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

  General Bonaparte turned round and smiled, “It seems you two are as calm about this as I am. My officers fear we will all be killed by these rioters.”

  I felt he wished a comment and I gave him one. “They are not soldiers and will not stand up to discipline sir.”