‘Write that down. Exactly … as I said it … Do not argue.’
‘Aye, sir.’
William wrote his own name down on the will, just as the captain had dictated.
‘Now … take a fresh … sheet of paper … I have … one more thing … to dictate.’
William did as he was told and readied a fresh sheet of paper.
‘Ready, sir.’
‘I, Captain Mortimer Harold Liversage … of the 17th Lancers … hereby do, on … this day … the 25th of October of the year … 1854 … recommend that … due to … valour and feats of bravery … upon the field of battle … at Balaclava Valley in the Crimea … Private William Gisborne of the … 17th Lancers … be hereby promoted … to the rank … of lieutenant.’
William sat bolt upright the instant he heard this.
‘Sir! I—’
‘Did I or did I not instruct you … to record my words exactly … as I utter them, Private? Are you … my amanuensis … or my adviser? Which one … boy?’
‘I’m sorry for interrupting, sir. No more questions from me.’
‘Good. Now, one more sentence … Are you ready?’
‘I am, sir.’
‘I recommend that … this promotion take place under … immediate effect.’
William could scarcely believe what he was hearing, and was almost at a loss for words. He nonetheless managed to ask Captain Liversage one more question.
‘That’s all sir?’
‘That’s all … Bring me … those papers … so I can … sign them.’
William heaved himself up from the chair, almost fainting in the process, and having to stifle a gasp of pain as his wounded legs shot bursts of agony through his body, and he hobbled over to the cot in which Captain Liversage was lying. He was breathing very shallowly now, and accompanying every inhalation of air there was a rasping rattle from deep within his chest. With weak, trembling fingers he beckoned to William to kneel down next to the cot. William handed him the papers and the quill, and Liversage signed his name on each with a shaky hand.
‘It is … done.’
‘Thank you sir, thank you so much, you dunnae know what this means tae me,’ William murmured, his heart bursting with joy and sorrow at once, his eyes glistening with rims of tears in the auburn glow of the oil lamp.
‘On the contrary, my boy … I know … exactly … what it means. True love … is worth everything … It is worth … more than everything … And I do believe … that you … certainly have it … So I am merely … giving you … the chance … I never had.’
William wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, but more kept on forming and pooling with relentless persistence.
‘Sir,’ William began through barely stifled sobs of sadness, ‘you never told me about your one true love. You said you’d tell me some day. Perhaps now is the time, sir.’
A sad smile appeared on Captain Liversage’s pale, blood-flecked lips.
‘Yes, perhaps, my boy,’ Liversage rasped, chuckling weakly before he continued. ‘He … was the son … of one of my father’s … best friends, Lord Callaghan…’
‘He?Son of? I’m no’ sure tha’ I understand, sir.’
‘I have a confession … I am … a homosexual, William.’
William blushed and began to stammer, not knowing how to react to this admission.
‘Oh, I … er, I’m—’
‘Hush my boy … Do you now … think less … of me?’
William was resolute and sincere in his answer, which he delivered with swift clarity.
‘No sir. Absolutely no’, no’ at all. Truth be told Captain, you’re … you’re my hero, sir. You’re like the father I ne’er had. And nowt will e’er change tha’, sir.’
The Captain reached over to William and clasped his hands in his. The Captain’s grip was weak, his strength almost non-existent; not much life was left in him.
‘Good … good. You are … a wonderful lad, William … Yes … Nigel Callaghan was … my one true love … As I said … was a childhood friend … We grew up together … He was my first … and my last love … When I joined … Her Majesty’s Army … and was stationed in India … He travelled there … to be with me … However … our love … was discovered … There was a great scandal … My father disowned me and … stripped me of my title … and inheritance … My lover … his father sent him … off to Southern Africa, to … the Cape Colony … in exile … never to return … or see me again … on pain of death.’
‘I’m sorry sir,’ William murmured. ‘I can, I can write some words tae deliver tae him, sir, if you so wish. Just speak your heart, sir, I’ll take it down and make sure tha’ no eyes but his see what’s written.’
A single tear trickled from the captain’s eye down his cheek, and his face tightened; a deep, crushing pain had just been resurrected in him, a pain that dwarfed even the agony of his protracted physical death.
‘Thank you for … the offer, William … But he is … dead … He passed from … this incarnation … more than ten years ago.’
‘Oh, I—’
‘Hush my dear boy … I just hope … that your story … will turn out … better than mine … did … That is why … I have given … you … this officer’s commission … For love, William, for the greatest … and most magnificent thing … that exists.’
‘Sir, you’ve honoured me well beyond what I deserve, sir, I—’
‘Shh William. There is … one … condition.’
‘Anything sir, anything.’
‘Have a physician … remove my heart … after my soul … has left this … body … Take it … to South Africa … Find his grave … Nigel Edward Callaghan … He was posted … by Her Majesty’s colonial government … to a town … in a new colony called
