but the most resolute.
As his mare splashed into the ford, and yet another artillery round whistled overhead, Hervey saw the Fifty- fifth standing like a red stone wall. Not for the first time he blessed the legionary infantry who would now bear the brunt of the fight. And he cursed himself for doubting them, as he cursed Somerset for doubting his Rifles.
XXVI
BATTLE HONOURS
Hervey sat with a blanket about his shoulders in a cane chair by the window while his Hottentot bearer changed the bed linen for only the second time that day. He was getting better, no doubt of it: for the best part of a week the bearer had changed the linen
‘‘Ave a bit o’ this, then, sir,’ coaxed Johnson.
Hervey took the enamel cup in both hands. He no longer trembled, but he felt strangely weak still, and he did not wish to spill Johnson’s precious brew.
‘Good God!’ he spat, his face contorted as he swallowed. ‘What infernal sort of tea’s this?’
‘It’s not tea, it’s whistlejacket.’
Hervey shook his head. ‘Johnson, I feel wretched enough without guessing games.’
‘Whistlejacket: gin ‘n’ treacle.’
‘One of your orphanage purgatives, was it?’
‘It’s right good for thee. None o’ t’stuff t’surgeon give thee did owt.’
Hervey was not inclined to dispute the latter, and thought it best to oblige his groom – for all his doubt as to the whistlejacket’s efficacy and all his certainty as to its ill taste.
Unquestionably he was feeling better, however. He had not yet regained his appetite, but at least he now cared. It had been a longer than usual attack of the fever, though several days had passed without his having any knowledge of them. At least there was no more pain from the wound in his leg. He would soon see two scars, a dozen years, but only inches, apart, and each made not with bullet or shrapnel, or even sabre, but with the thrusting point, as primitive a thing as any of the ancients’. There was no weapon too short in the hand for a brave man.
He sighed, but with some contentment. He had done well; he knew it. Everyone from General Bourke to the rudest burgher had told him. He had blooded the Rifles, and ably, and proved their worth. And in the fight at the river, the red and the blue and the green had worked with such mutual and effective support that the Zulu had never been able to close with them and test the power of their short spears. Matiwane had left so many men dead at the ford that it would be many months, if not years, before they would have the temerity to challenge the King’s army again. Kaffraria could expect a little peace; and wise counsel in Cape Town ought to be able to make good use of it. That was what Somervile had said to him before this fever had taken hold.
He drained the cup. Almost at once his head began to swim. ‘Is there a very lot of gin in this, Johnson?’
Johnson shrugged.
Hervey looked at the pile of letters on the table beside his bed: from home, from Hounslow, from the Horse Guards, from Kezia Lankester – all unanswered. Tomorrow he would make a beginning, perhaps, if he continued well; and if Johnson didn’t poison him with his cures.
‘Have you seen Serjeant Wainwright?’
‘I ’ave, sir. We ’ad a wet in t’canteen last night on account o’ ’is new stripe.’
Hervey nodded. ‘And you, Johnson?’
‘Ah’m all right, sir. Al’a’s am.’
He nodded again. Yes, Johnson was always ‘all right’. Except for the unfathomable business of the coral; or rather, his refusing to confide in him about it. It was good to have him back, and the same Johnson as in the best of times.
‘I mean that you did fine service. Never more so than when you brought up Molly when Gilbert fell. I’m excessively grateful.’
Johnson shifted awkwardly. He didn’t much like things singled out like that. And he had been as fond of Gilbert as had Hervey himself. It was the very devil of a thing to have to leave an old friend to the savages and the vultures – old
The bearer beamed happily as he tucked in the last of the corners.
‘
The bearer picked up the sweated linen, bowed several times while still smiling broadly, and trotted out of the room.
‘’E’s a good’n, sir, is Thandi. Reckon we should take ‘im back wi’ us.’
‘Perhaps we should.’
The door opened.
Johnson braced. ‘Sir!’
Hervey looked round to discover the cause of Johnson’s sudden soldiery. ‘Somervile! I am glad to see you.’
‘And I you,’ said his old friend, advancing on him with hand outstretched.
Hervey took it, though the vigour with which Somervile shook it reminded him he had a way to go before being back to hale condition. ‘Shall you stay? Will you have tea, or something stronger?’
‘I will have tea with you, gladly. Emma has forbidden me anything stronger in the afternoon.’
Johnson left for his tea-making duties.
‘Is there news from the frontier?’
‘Nothing but tranquillity. No reports of reiving in weeks.’
Hervey let the blanket slip from his shoulders: he was getting hotter and he was certain it did not help. ‘That is gratifying.’
Somervile pulled up a chair. ‘It most positively is. I have just been reading Somerset’s report to General Bourke. Admirable, Hervey; quite admirable.’
Hervey was unclear as to quite what was admirable. ‘I should like to see it.’
‘Oh, you will, you will. Admirable – a most handsome acknowledgement. Your Captain Fairbrother is evidently a man of resource and sensibility. I wonder the castle had never sought to employ him before. And most commending it is of you too – in the fullest terms imaginable. I declare I thought Somerset a tricky man when first I met him, but he has shown himself of a very true disposition.’
‘I am pleased for it. It would not have served without Fairbrother.’
‘You saved Somerset’s life.’
‘We were several. Believe me: no single man could have done anything for Somerset at that moment. I confess I thought him lost.’
‘He says he has written to his uncle FitzRoy;
Hervey tried a self-deprecating smile. He thought the praise overblown. But he would certainly not gainsay it.
‘I have approved your home leave.’
Hervey blinked. ‘But I have not requested it.’
‘You will not decline it?’
