Warrior

'I saw him last night, sir. He'll mend right enough.'

Hervey smiled to himself. He might have known that Collins would lose no time in calling on a brother NCO. 'Anything more?' Collins sighed. 'Quilter.'

Hervey sighed too. Serjeant Quilter looked the part, but he had risen more by seniority than merit. He was not an E Troop man: he had come on promotion from B. At eighteen years' service he was one of the oldest corporals to be made serjeant, and for the two years since then he had never looked at ease in the rank.

Collins, who had known him many years, shook his head. 'He does his best, mind.'

Hervey raised his eyebrows. 'That in its way is discouraging.'

'Ay, sir. Even if I decided everything for him, he'd still make a muddle of it. Armstrong said as 'e was fed up with putting him on report. And what with Wainwright on box rest, it makes things twice as bad.'

'You would prefer Corporal Hardy to stand duty, I imagine.'

'I don't know Hardy well enough to say, sir, but Armstrong rates him.'

'He did well in the skirmish at the frontier, by all accounts – very cool-headed, and economical with the sabre.' Hervey nodded slowly. 'I'll speak with Captain Brereton. And we should have someone slated for rear details – Quilter, I mean. I can't have him in the field. Though in fairness I should say he did not disgrace himself at Umtata.'

When they had walked the huttings, Hervey dismissed Collins and took his leave of Brereton, telling him that he would dine in the officers' house, but that first he must call on the lieutenantgovernor. He went then to the charger stables, which was hutting no different from the troop lines, but with the usual extra space for loose boxes rather than standing stalls. Here he found Private Toyne, his second groom. Toyne, a quiet-spoken Westmorland man who had learned horses at the gypsy fair in Appleby, had joined the Sixth in India. Hervey had liked him at once, as (more importantly) had Johnson; he felt confident always of leaving a horse in his charge.

Toyne greeted him as if he had seen him but an hour ago. 'Both of 'em's doin' right, sir,' he added, nodding to Hervey's two mares.

Hervey had not doubted it would be so; not, at least, as far as husbandry was concerned (the perdesiekt was another matter). He looked into Eli's box. Eli – Eliab – was Jessye's foal, nine years old, fifteen hands three, a pretty bay and now a handy charger, with all her dam's sturdiness, and a fair bit of bone. She was a 'good doer', as the saying went: she did not lose condition quickly when her rations were changed or reduced. But he had yet to take her into the field. Gilbert had been his battle-charger, a fast and seasoned one, and for the foray into Kaffraria he had taken Molly as his second, for Eli had coughed once or twice the day before, and he had decided not to risk it. But now Eli was his second, for he had had to put a bullet in Gilbert's brains when an aneurysm brought him down only yards from the Zulu.

Eli turned at his voice, and whickered. She came up to the door of the box and put her nose out to him. Hervey took her head in his left hand and rubbed her muzzle with his right. 'Well, my girl, how good it is to see you. I hope you still have your sea legs.'

'She'll 'ave em, sir, right enough. I 'eard we were goin, an' I've been puttin Stock'ollum on 'er feet.'

Hervey nodded approvingly.

'And on Molly's,' added Toyne, turning to the adjacent box. 'She went lame a bit when you were gone, sir, but it were nothin' really – just a week's box rest an' she were back on t'road soon enough.'

Molly did not immediately turn, finding the hay rack altogether more compelling than her master's voice. It was in any case not nearly as familiar to her as it was to Eli, for Hervey had bought her only just before leaving England, and although she had carried him faithfully at Umtata they were not yet truly acquainted. Molly was nearer black than dark bay (she had certainly looked so in her summer coat and a good sweat), and stood half a hand higher than Eli. She had been an officer's charger, in the Tenth, a good five years before coming to him, and at rising twelve she was a sound prospect for what lay ahead.

He watched her calmly grinding the hay. 'I've a hack from the castle, but I shall take him back tonight, and then tomorrow I'll take her out,' he said, reaching forward to pat her quarters.

'She'd like that, sir.'

Hervey nodded again. Would she like it? Would she know it was he riding her? Eli would; and Jessye would have, certainly . . . Would he take Molly with him to Canada? And Eli? Would he take Toyne with him? It could be arranged, no doubt. Johnson would most definitely come with him, although he had not really told him yet. That is, they had not discussed it. Johnson had so much reckonable service that he could have his free discharge at any time, and he could easily re-enlist in the Eighty-first if there were any administrative objection to his transfer. He would promote him corporal, too. Johnson had always refused promotion on the grounds that it brought 'responsibility' (by which he really meant the scrutiny of the RSM) without any benefit save a few shillings a week. But without rank, in the Eighty-first he would not have the standing.

As he left the charger stables, Hervey began wondering again who else he might be allowed to claim for his new command.Would he be able to tempt an officer or two? There again, what would it profit them? The only ones he knew well enough to be sure of – sure in his estimation that they would be better than those with whom they might exchange – were two or three of the captains, and why would they exchange a troop for a company, the spur for the gaiter? For they were all of sufficient means to be comfortable in Hounslow. It was not as if there was the prospect of any action in Canada.

Somervile was not returned from office when Hervey called at the residence. Jaswant showed him to Emma's sitting room.

'Matthew, what a pleasing surprise. Shall you join us for dinner?' she asked as they kissed.

'No, forgive me, Emma; I must dine with my officers. I came but briefly to speak with Somervile about the arrangements for Natal.'

'I expect him in an hour. He sent word that he was receiving someone from the frontier. Will you have some wine?'

'Thank you, yes.'

Emma nodded to the khansamah.

'I much enjoyed the table last night,' Hervey said, taking a chair at Emma's bidding. 'The ship's fare was a