thought that she was about to be sick. Desperation made her do the only thing she could think of. Twisting her head slightly to the left, she bit deep into his lower lip and felt his blood spurt across her face.
Otto bellowed in pain and rolled off her, hitting the ground with a thud. The noise brought two people running to see what had happened. First through the door was the landlord, his candle lending a dull glow to the sordid scene. Realising what had happened, he began to wave a walking stick at Otto and abuse him in high-pitched German. The second person to arrive was Emily Greene and she did not waste any words. When she saw her mistress, hunched up in bed, shielding herself with a pillow, she grabbed the stick from the landlord and used it to belabour the midnight lover, hitting him with such force that he begged for mercy and crawled out of the room on his hands and knees. The landlord went after Otto to remonstrate with him. Annoyed that she had not been there to protect her mistress from the assault, Emily shut the door and put her back against it.
'Fetch our things,' said Abigail, still shaking. 'We're leaving.'
Emily was practical. 'It's the middle of the night, Miss Abigail.'
'Do as I tell you — please.'
Edward Marston
Soldier of Fortune
Daniel Rawson finally got a taste of the action he wanted. When they reached Coblenz, a sizeable force was sent off in the direction of the Moselle valley but only as a means of distracting Marshal Villeroi and his men. Daniel remained with the main army as it moved south and crossed the Rhine where their ranks were swelled by the addition of 5000 Hanoverians and Prussians. To the French observers who were tracking them, it looked as if they were heading for
Mainz and were prepared to go much deeper into Germany than they had ever done before. Daniel finally got a clearer idea of what was in the Duke of Marlborough's mind.
As usual, their commander rode on ahead with the cavalry squadrons, leaving the infantry, artillery and supply wagons to follow at a more sedate pace. Mounted on his horse, Daniel was near the front of a multi-coloured column of soldiers that stretched back into the distance. Having marched through open country at a steady pace, they now entered woodland. The farther they went, the darker it got as overhanging branches blocked out the light or filtered it through their leaves to throw dazzling patterns on the ground. Birds sang in the trees, undisturbed by the tramp of many feet and rumble of supply wagons. There was no sense of danger.
When it came, therefore, it took them completely by surprise. As the leading regiments reached a large clearing, they stepped into the sunlight and became open targets. A volley of musket fire rang out, scattering the birds in a squawking cacophony, and hitting a number of men in Daniel's regiment. He reacted swiftly and ordered those under his command to fan out and take cover before the next hail of lead was discharged. Dismounting from his horse, he led it quickly into the trees for safety. From the sound of the attack, he guessed that somewhere between two and three dozen weapons had been fired. A couple of his men had been killed outright, many more had been injured.
Since there was no second volley, Daniel knew that the French snipers must have fled and he signalled his men to move forward in pursuit of them. Mounting his horse again, he drew his sword and kicked it into a canter. Other officers followed his example but he was way ahead of them, furious that they had been caught off guard and lusting for revenge. He soon caught the sound of many horses, pounding their way through the undergrowth until they came out of the woodland. Daniel emerged from the trees to see the familiar French uniforms strung out in front of him as they galloped away. His estimate had been fairly accurate. He counted thirty of them.
Spurring his horse on, he slowly began to gain on the stragglers. Two of them were dropping behind the other riders and they veered off to the left in an attempt to shake off the pursuit. Daniel left it to others to chase the main body of snipers and followed the pair who had become detached from it. His horse was fleet of foot and he was soon within thirty yards of the two men. Glancing over his shoulder, one of them was alarmed to see how close Daniel was but reassured by the fact that he was completely isolated from his fellows.
The musket slung around the Frenchman's shoulders had been discharged but he was also carrying a loaded pistol. Pulling it out, he waited until Daniel got closer then raised it to fire. Even at a short distance, accuracy was impossible from the saddle of a galloping horse and the ball went harmlessly past Daniel's ear. The next moment, Daniel drew level with him and slashed at the man's outstretched hand, slicing it off at the wrist and sending it tumbling to the ground with the pistol still in its grasp. The man gave a howl of pain and held the bleeding stump under his other arm in a vain attempt to stem the flow.
The other Frenchman had seen enough. He put his own safety before that of his comrade, abandoning him without a second thought as he rode away. Daniel was therefore able to sheath his sword, grab the reins of the wounded man's horse and bring round in a circle as he slowed it to a halt. He promptly dismounted. Swearing at his attacker, the Frenchmen tried to kick at him but Daniel hauled him unceremoniously from the saddle and pushed him to the ground. When he tried to examine the wound, however, a gob of spit hit him full in the face. Daniel wiped it away then punched the man hard on the chin to subdue him before he pulled off his coat, easing the blood-soaked sleeve gently over the wounded wrist. He had seen too many hideous injuries on the battlefield to be distressed by the sight of blood. It was an emergency. Daniel turned army surgeon.
'You need a tourniquet, my friend,' he said affably, pulling at the man's shirt and tearing it into strips. 'We have to keep you alive so that you're able to talk to His Grace, the Duke of Marlborough. I'm sure you have a lot of interesting things to tell him.'
Edward Marston
Soldier of Fortune
When the Allied armies crossed the River Main, it became certain to the enemy that the march on the Moselle valley had been a cunning ploy to mislead them. They set up camp and Daniel handed over his prisoner for interrogation. The ambush in the woods had inflicted serious injuries on some of his men, one of whom had been blinded while another had had to suffer amputation as a result. After checking on their condition and trying to cheer them up, he went back to his tent. Daniel was about to enter it when he saw Henry Welbeck in conversation with a tall, slim man in the uniform of a private. The sergeant was pointing at Daniel. His companion nodded. After studying Daniel for a moment, the man gave a nod of thanks to Welbeck and walked away. The sergeant strolled over to his friend.
'Who was that?' asked Daniel.
'A new recruit,' replied Welbeck. 'He joined us yesterday. The bugger has too many airs and graces for me but he was keen to serve in the ranks and he looks fit enough.'
'What's his name?'
'Will Curtis.'
'Why did he choose this regiment?'
'He says that his father served in it when it was first raised in 1689 by Colonel Sir Edward Dering. Curtis's father was killed in action against the French.'
'What was his name?'
'You'll have to ask him, Dan,' said Welbeck. 'All I see is another stupid Englishman willing to throw his life away in this pointless war. Besides, Eve got more important things to worry about than Private Will Curtis. He's simply target practice for the enemy.'
'Why were you pointing me out?' wondered Daniel.
'He'd heard about this hare-brained officer who went charging off alone after those Frenchies and brought back a prisoner single-handed.' He bared his few remaining teeth in a grin. 'It seems the poor man lost his other hand somehow.'
'I hacked it off, Henry.'
'That was the rumour Curtis heard. He wondered who this intrepid Captain Rawson really was. Now he knows. He also knows how crafty these Frenchies can be,' he went on. 'That ambush killed two men, blinded a third, took a leg off a fourth and left another ten unfit for action. It cost me fourteen soldiers, Dan.'
'The French just wanted to let us know they are here.'
'I thought they'd all be waiting for us in the Moselle valley.'
'Marshal Villeroi might be,' said Daniel, 'so he's behind us now. Somewhere in front of us are Marshal Marsin and the Bavarians. We'll have them to contend with them before the summer is over.'
'Will we have enough men to take them on?'
'When we cross the River Neckar, the hope is that we'll be joined by 14,000 Danes and Prussians. That's
