Hervey was impressed by the promptness with which it had been both written and delivered. Had it not been for the mention of casualties, he could have thought it composed in anticipation the night before. Why was the General Officer Commanding troubling to rise so early? Hervey had never known such dispatch, not even in the Peninsula. But without doubt it brought distinction, and that was some consolation. An ill wind, such as could do no harm to his purchase of command…
‘Gratifying,’ he said simply, handing back the paper. ‘You had better tell Sarn’t-major Armstrong he will stand duty for Mr Hairsine until Tully is returned from leave.’
‘He is already at orderly room, sir. Sarn’t-major Tully is not due back for another month. Shall I recall him?’
Hervey did not hesitate. Tully may have been the senior, but he was not Armstrong. ‘No. Would you have the sarn’t-major come in. And I’ll see him door-closed.’
The adjutant left him with his brandy. Moments later Hervey heard the words of command in the corridor: ‘Staff parade, stand easy!’ as the acting-RSM temporarily stood down his orderlies so he could attend on the acting commanding officer. To Hervey the voice sounded exactly as it ought: the ill wind had blown a little more good than he had first supposed.
‘Sarn’t-major Armstrong, sir.’
‘Thank you, Mr Vanneck.’
The adjutant closed the door as Armstrong marched in, very formally, and saluted. ‘Sir.’
Hervey, seated, put down the brandy glass. ‘Stand easy, Sarn’t-major.’
‘How’s Mr Hairsine and the others, sir?’
‘His shoulder is broken, but it will mend well the surgeon says. Captain Worsley’s leg is cut up, but he’ll make good. The dragoons will be well, too, though Brunton’s very poorly. We’ll not see him at duty in months.’
Armstrong sighed. ‘Bastards!’
Hervey stood up and walked to the window.
‘What do you make of it all?’
‘I can tell you what the men’s saying, sir. They weren’t no frightened paddies doing all the shooting last night.’
Hervey nodded. ‘We walked into something, and I’m damned if I know what it was.’
‘And I don’t know why we couldn’t have waited till morning and had a proper scout about.’
‘We were ordered very emphatically to withdraw before daylight.’
‘Bad business.’
Hervey turned. ‘It is. But we’d better gather the reins up quickly. I want to put Wainwright in Brunton’s place, make him lance-serjeant. What do you think?’
Armstrong tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.
Hervey knew from long years what this signalled. ‘I know the objections, but the man is quite exceptional, and if we do not promote younger men then how shall we have sarn’t-majors enough to find good RSMs?’
‘An eight-year man for serjeant? They’ll say he’s your favourite, sir. That you’re promoting him for what happened in Spain.’
‘And Ava.’
‘Ay, sir, and Ava.’
‘And why not? If we promote alone by seniority then it’s mere dead men’s boots. Are we not to reward address and courage?’
‘There’s two men in E Troop alone his senior. There must be a dozen more in the regiment. What will that say to them as does their duty quietly every day?’
‘It will say that exceptionally a corporal their junior merits superseding them. See, it wasn’t so bad when there were eight troops, but the reductions—’
‘He’ll have the devil of a time from the serjeants, and some of the serjeant-majors won’t be too pleased either.’
‘He has the disposition to deal with the serjeants, and you have it to deal with the serjeant-majors. Do you oppose me in this then?’
Armstrong frowned. ‘Not at all, sir. I’d make ‘im serjeant tomorrow. You asked me what I thought, and I think there’ll be trouble. But I wouldn’t be frightened by it.’
Hervey nodded, slowly. ‘Very well. I’ll publish in today’s orders.’ He sat down. ‘Now, if you can see to the day’s routine, I shall go to see Mr Kirwan and A Troop’s horses.’
Armstrong shook his head. ‘There’s a dozen of ‘em down this morning, I heard.’
That was close to the last straw. Hervey felt as if one of them had kicked him in the groin.
‘Mr Kirwan, a word, if you please.’ It was entirely proper for Hervey to address the veterinary officer formally in front of dragoons, but it sounded so alien, even to Hervey’s own ears, that he regretted saying anything at all. Yet say something he must, for the farcy had very evidently taken a hold of A Troop’s horses, and the contagion might be abroad in others even as they spoke.
The veterinarian, coatless, was bathing the eyes of one of the older geldings. He peered over his spectacles. ‘Why certainly, Major Hervey.’ He gave the bowl to his assistant. ‘Just a minute or so more sponging, Tress. Just see all the detritus is out.’
He took up his coat and walked towards the end of the stalls, where Hervey stood tapping the side of his overalls with his whip.
‘Worm in the aqueous humour. You must have seen it often enough in India. Rare here, though. Can’t think how it could have got there; certainly nothing to do with the other condition, though I wouldn’t have seen it had I not been looking at them all so closely for the symptoms.’
But Hervey was unimpressed. ‘I gave orders for the infected horses to be destroyed. Why did not you carry them out?’
Sam Kirwan looked surprised. ‘Because you gave the orders when you believed the sickness to be farcy or glanders. But it is no such thing. I have observed it very closely, and I may with some certainty pronounce it to be influenza.’
Hervey in turn looked puzzled. ‘Influenza? How can influenza be confused with farcy or glanders? And is influenza not bad horse-management? A Troop’s men aren’t greenheads!’
Sam Kirwan looked about. ‘Hervey, may we go to my surgery? I should feel better able to explain myself.’
Hervey was not entirely placated by the news that it was neither farcy nor glanders, though in his own mind he was already conceding that the veterinarian was correct in staying the destruction of the horses. Except that influenza passed from horse to horse even more quickly than glanders, and the complications were sometimes lethal. It was not impossible, therefore, that the regiment’s losses would be worse.
‘Will you sit down?’ asked Sam as they entered his surgery, a room lined with bottles, and enough bones for three skeletons. ‘I can’t offer hospitality, I’m afraid.’
Hervey was content to forgo coffee, smarting as he still was from the unnecessary order to have fifty troopers destroyed. ‘Why the damned scare about glanders if all it is is a cold?’
‘It’s more than just a cold, Hervey,’ said Sam, shaking his head. ‘Any horse that gets it won’t be fit for hard work this side of a month.’
