Path of the Tiger

knowingly. ‘His last will and testament was brought to me a few days ago, and I recall that in it he stated that his sword and sheath were to go to a Private Gisborne – you, evidently. It is a great honour for an officer to leave such a treasure to a mere private, to be sure, so he must have held you in high esteem. No mention was made of any promotion though, I’m afraid.’

‘He wrote a separate letter fir tha’, sir,’ William replied nervously. ‘It’s right here.’

William took the paper out of his jacket with trembling hands and handed it to Cardigan. Cardigan unfolded it and then pushed his reading spectacles up his nose, and for a few tension-brittle moments he peered at the letter while William waited with increasingly clammy palms, and his heart thudding frenetically in his chest.

It was not too long, however, before Cardigan looked up at William with a deep frown upon his long face. Dread sank its leaden weight into the depths of William’s belly as his eyes met Cardigan’s.

‘Is there a problem, sir?’ he managed to stammer.

‘This is a note written by your doctor, detailing the surgical procedures he performed. I’m sorry lad, but you’ve brought me the wrong paper.’

Panic gushed with icy force through William’s veins whilst simultaneously flooding his cheeks with a fever-hot blush.

‘I … sir, I promise you,’ he stammered, the panicked words seeming to tumble out of his mouth all at once, ‘Captain Liversage did write me a note in which he recommended me fir immediate promotion tae lieutenant, an’ he insisted tha’ I deliver it tae your hands personally, sir … I, um, I just, I must ha’ left it—’

‘You’re already demonstrating that you’re not fit to be an officer, boy!’ Whittington growled, his dark eyes fierce in his stormy face. ‘You approached us, with quite some gall I may add, and interrupted our business – business that I assure you is of the utmost importance, to hand Lord Cardigan a hastily scrawled doctor’s note! And this little bit of nonsense you outrageously claim represents Liversage’s last wish to have you granted an officer’s commission! How dare you! You’ve shown immense disrespect to—’

‘Calm down Whittington, calm down,’ Cardigan said. ‘The lad survived the charge at Balaclava, and by Liversage’s own hand it was written in his will that this private acted heroically. He’s been to hell and back, as I myself experienced on that fateful morning, and according to this doctor’s note he has survived some truly grievous wounds. Have some sympathy for the lad. I, in fact, am willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.’ He turned to William and locked an intense stare into his eyes before continuing. ‘Go and find Captain Liversage’s note, Private. I trust you when you say you merely picked up the wrong letter, although you would do well to double check things in the future, as a good officer must both be sure of his actions and thorough in the execution of them. If you can bring me that original note, then we will see about this officer’s commission.’

Blood was pounding in William’s temples and his mouth was dry with anxiety, but he managed to nod and reply.

‘Yes sir. I’ll get it immediately, sir.’

‘If you come back without it, boy, I promise I’ll personally see you flogged senseless for wasting our time!’ Whittington snarled. ‘Now get out of my sight!’

This time Cardigan did not defend William, and his face took on a harder, colder look.

‘Like I said Private, bring me that letter and we’ll see what can be done. But I warn you: do not come back if you cannot find it. I’ll not be so lenient with you next time.’

‘Aye sir,’ William said with as much confidence as he could fake.

He turned on his heels and hurriedly hobbled off down the hillside, feeling the officers’ eyes drilling their annoyance into the back of his head as he left. Cold sweat trickled down his neck as he limped, and it nipped its chill deep into his spine.

With gritted teeth he fought through the pain that was throbbing through all of his limbs, and he willed himself to push on, despite the weakness that made his legs feel as if they were fighting their way through a tar pit rather than merely walking atop smooth grass.

His legs burned and his chest heaved as he staggered back to the medical tent. As soon as he arrived, he lurched inside and dropped to his knees beside the bed, digging through his pile of belongings with desperate hands.

‘Come on come on, where is it, where is it, where is it?!’

‘Looking fir this, Will?’

William spun around at the sound of the familiar voice, and saw a tall and imposing figure silhouetted against the morning sun, the outline of which was as instantly recognisable as his own reflection in a mirror. William’s heart soared with ebullient joy, and effervescent bliss flushed its rejuvenating heat through his veins.

‘Michael! Mikey, my brother, my boyo, you’re alive! Oh praise the Father above, you’re alive!’

William could not contain himself and he sprang to his feet. With spontaneous tears of joy streaming down his cheeks, and his aches and pains temporarily forgotten, he raced to the door to hug Michael.

Michael, it seemed, was not as enthusiastic about this reunion. With his face granite-hard and his eyes frost-cold, he turned away from William and pushed his friend’s arms away from the embrace he attempted.

‘This is what you want, is it no’?’ Michael asked, his voice icy and flat as he held up Captain Liversage’s letter.

William stepped back, feeling a strange cocktail of emotions percolating with burning discomfort in his gut.

‘Well aye Mikey, I dae need tha’, but let’s first—’

Michael seemed not to hear William’s words. He began reading out the letter in a tone of mock flattery.

‘I, Captain Mortimer Harold Liversage of the 17^th Lancers hereby dae, upon this day, the 25^th ay October ay the year 1854,  recommend tha’