‘Ask for a description of where the patrols went and the names of those men involved. We may have to do this by a process of elimination but we’ll catch them in the end. They’re not British soldiers — they’re vicious criminals.’
‘And they wear our uniforms,’ said Cardonnel, ruefully.
‘I’m not certain about that,’ Daniel put in.
‘You just told us that redcoats committed this atrocity.’
‘They did, but that doesn’t mean they belong to us. I’ve been thinking how difficult it would be for one of our patrols to rustle livestock then burn down a farm. Where would they keep the animals? They could hardly bring them back here to camp. Nor could they rely on being sent out on patrol again at a time of their choosing. Do you see the problem here?’ he went on. ‘The boy talked of nine or ten soldiers who raided the farm. When patrols are sent out, they vary greatly in size. It’s unlikely that the same group would be dispatched together each time.’
‘That’s true,’ agreed Marlborough, grasping at the possibility that his men might not, after all, be responsible. ‘We may have a smattering of god-forsaken rogues in our midst but we also have thousands of honest, decent, responsible men who’d draw back at such horrors. If they had the faintest whiff of it, they’d report it to their superiors.’
Daniel became pensive. Cardonnel watched him carefully.
‘I know that look in your eye, Daniel,’ he said at length. ‘You’ve been meditating on this, haven’t you? I suspect you have a theory.’
‘As it happens,’ Daniel answered, ‘I have two.’
‘If either exonerates our soldiers, let’s hear it.’
‘The first theory does that. I believe that these redcoats might actually be French soldiers, deliberately wearing our uniforms to give the impression that we’ll slash and burn for the sheer love of it. It would be easy for them to get hold of uniforms,’ Daniel continued. ‘After any engagement, the battlefield is littered with them.’
‘That sounds very plausible,’ said Marlborough, thoughtfully. ‘Burgundy and Vendome know that we don’t enjoy the unqualified support of the Flemish population. We’ve yet to win their loyalty, let alone their affection. What better way to stir up enmity against us than to portray us as callous murderers? Thank you, Daniel. Your theory has the ring of truth about it.’
‘Yet it is only a theory, Your Grace,’ Daniel reminded him.
‘And it’s partnered with another,’ noted Cardonnel.
‘This one is not so reassuring, I’m afraid,’ cautioned Daniel, ‘because it puts the onus back on us. It would be very comforting to think that French soldiers have carried out the three raids, thereby lifting suspicion off British soldiers. However…’
‘Go on,’ Marlborough encouraged.
‘I incline towards my second theory.’
‘Which is?’
‘That these men are deserters from our own ranks,’ said Daniel, ‘hiding behind our uniforms and initiating another attack whenever they want a fresh supply of food or some more excitement.’
‘Ha!’ cried Marlborough, smacking the table. ‘What excitement can there be in shooting unarmed men and raping their womenfolk? What kind of warped minds take delight in the wilful destruction of property? They behaved like wild animals. If they really are British renegades, there’s all the more reason to track them down.’ He turned to Cardonnel. ‘When you send those letters, Adam, ask for a list of any deserters from our cavalry regiments.’
‘I will, Your Grace,’ replied Cardonnel, reaching for pen and paper, ‘and I’ll do it promptly.’
‘They may not all be from the cavalry,’ said Daniel. ‘Some of them could equally well have fled from regiments of foot and stolen some horses. May I suggest that we examine the lists of all deserters?’
‘That’s a wise precaution,’ agreed Marlborough, studying the map. ‘Meanwhile, I’ll send out patrols to search for them. So far, there have been three raids. The victims have all been roughly in this area to the west,’ he went on, tapping the map with his finger. ‘That’s where the search must start. The attacks are obviously planned with care. They always choose small, isolated farms where they can expect little resistance.’ He sat back. ‘Where will they strike next, I wonder?’
‘We can only hazard a guess, Your Grace,’ said Daniel. ‘With your permission, I’ll pursue another line of enquiry. The third attack is very similar to the others but there’s a significant difference.’
‘What’s that, Daniel?’
‘We have a witness.’
‘He’s only a frightened ten-year-old boy.’
‘Nevertheless, he may have seen something that could help us. When the lad has had a little time to recover, I’d like to talk to him. He may, for instance, have heard those men speak.’
‘That would be valuable evidence,’ said Cardonnel. ‘At least, we’d know what language they used. It’s a good suggestion.’
‘I concur,’ added Marlborough. ‘Take a patrol with you.’
‘I’d prefer to go on my own, Your Grace,’ said Daniel.
‘Why is that?’
‘The boy has had enough of a scare already. If he sees another troop of redcoats descending on him, he’ll be terrified. I’ll go on my own and I won’t wear my uniform.’
‘That’s very sensible.’
‘I have to win the boy’s confidence somehow,’ said Daniel, ‘and that will be difficult. Might I suggest that any patrols sent out are kept well clear of this farm where the lad is now staying?’
‘I’ll ensure that they are, Daniel.’
‘Thank you, Your Grace. I’d like to think that this is all part of some French plot to discredit us in the eyes of the local people. In my heart, however,’ Daniel went on, sadly, ‘I have a lurking suspicion that the men we’re after served in the British army and ran from their colours. That, in itself, is a heinous crime. What they’ve done since, I’m afraid, is quite monstrous. They soiled our reputation and stirred up hatred against us.’ Daniel’s face hardened. ‘That’s unforgivable.’
The farmhouse stood beside a stream in the shadow of a hill that protected it from the worst of the weather. The summit commanded views in all directions. A lookout posted on it could see anyone approaching across the plain from miles away so they always had advance warning of company. It was a paradox. Men who made a living by burning down farmhouses had actually restored this one. When they first found the place, it was little more than a shell, its walls crumbling, its roof collapsed, its stone-flagged floors overgrown with weeds. After stealing tools, timber and tiles, they’d set about repairing their new home, building a snug refuge to see them through the winter. There’d been no shortage of wood for the fire.
The roof was now sound, the rooms swept clean, the shutters mended and new doors kept out the wind and rain. They’d even made some crude furniture. Anything else they’d needed, they’d simply looted. From the ruins of the barn, a new one had risen, stocked with hay and straw. Animals penned behind the farmhouse were killed and roasted when the need arose. A pig was turning on the spit today, the tempting aroma of pork wafting through the air. The men were already licking their lips.
There was another paradox. Soldiers who’d deserted from an army that imposed too much discipline on them had readily accepted an even stricter regimen. They knew that it was essential to follow orders now or forfeit their lives. There was, however, a difference. In the army, they were at the mercy of loathsome superiors against whom they had no redress. They were now part of a band that had elected their leader. Matthew Searle was one of them, a soldier from the rank and file, a strong-minded man who’d refused a chance to become a corporal out of sheer bloody-mindedness. Yet now he was wearing the uniform of a captain, albeit one that was stained with blood and ventilated by bullet holes. Searle was bold, cunning and decisive. He held the ragged band together by force of character.
Edwin Lock was a short, skinny, rat-faced man with bulging eyes and a twitching moustache. Sucking on his pipe, he sidled across to Searle, who was seated at the kitchen table, counting money.
‘I need to speak to you, Matt,’ he said.
‘Shut up,’ ordered Searle.
‘We’ve been talking, you see.’
‘I don’t care what you’ve been doing, Edwin. You can just hold your tongue until I finish. Open that big mouth
