4 Under Siege Read Online Free PDF Page A

induce Welbeck to join the officer class. In his view, they were an odious breed. He retained a barely concealed contempt for those above him, having seen too many of his men killed because of foolish decisions taken in battle by people with no business to be in command. Daniel was the only officer who’d earned his respect and affection.
    They met outside Welbeck’s tent.
    ‘What news, Dan?’ asked Welbeck, puffing on his pipe.
    ‘We are to lay siege to Lille.’
    ‘Even I’d worked that out.’
    ‘What you don’t yet know,’ said Daniel, ‘is that Prince Eugene will be in command with fifty battalions and ninety squadrons, mostly of Dutch and imperial troops.’
    ‘Go on.’
    ‘They are to be supported by a brigade of five British regiments, one of which will be our own dear 24 th .’
    Welbeck’s nose wrinkled with displeasure. ‘So we’ll be taking orders from a foreigner, will we?’
    ‘Prince Eugene is a gallant soldier.’
    ‘He’s far too gallant, in my opinion,’ said Welbeck. ‘He likes to lead his men into battle and expose himself to unnecessary danger. I’d rather serve under a man like the duke who’s sensible enough to conduct affairs from a position of relative safety.’
    ‘His Grace doesn’t always hold back,’ Daniel reminded him. ‘I was there when he led a charge at Ramillies.’
    ‘It’s just as well you were there, Dan. My spies tell me that our beloved captain-general was thrown from his horse. If you hadn’t been on hand to rescue him, the Grand Alliance would now be under the control of some stupid, half-blind, weak-willed Dutch general with no idea of military strategy.’ He bared his teeth in a hostile grin. ‘The only thing the Dutch ever do with enthusiasm is to turn tail.’
    Smiling tolerantly, Daniel refused to rise to the bait. Welbeck was a stocky man of middle height, with an ugly face given a sinister aspect by the long scar down one cheek. The sergeant’s body, as his friend knew, bore even more livid reminders of a soldier’s life. In the course of various skirmishes and battles, Welbeck had been shot, stabbed by a bayonet and slashed in several places by a sabre. He bore his injuries without complaint.
    ‘So,’ he said, eyeing Daniel up and down, ‘while I’m undertaking the siege of Lille with the rest of the regiment, what will Captain Rawson be doing?’
    ‘I’m awaiting orders from on high.’
    Welbeck looked up at the sky. ‘I didn’t realise that you were in touch with the Almighty. You’ll be telling me next that you hear voices – just like Joan of Arc.’
    ‘The only difference is that she heard them in French,’ said Daniel with a laugh. ‘No, Henry, my orders come from closer to the earth. His Grace always dreams up something interesting for me.’
    ‘When is he going to dream up a peace treaty?’
    ‘When – and only when – we’ve finally won this war.’
    Before he could reply, Welbeck noticed someone coming towards them. Daniel recognised the newcomer at once. It was Rachel Rees, riding a horse and pulling her donkey behind her on a lead rein. She wore the same rough clothing as before but now sported a wide-brimmed hat with feathers stuck in it. When she waved familiarly at them, Welbeck was unwelcoming.
    ‘What, in the sacred name of Satan, have we got here?’
    ‘She’s a lady I met on my travels,’ said Daniel.
    ‘Then you must travel to some strange places, Dan. Look at her, will you? She didn’t get that fat on army food, and what is the woman wearing? I’ve seen better dressed beggars.’
    ‘Her name is Rachel Rees and she’s Welsh.’
    ‘That’s even worse!’ snorted Welbeck, pulling his pipe from his mouth and tapping it on the sole of his boot to dislodge the tobacco. ‘I know we’re desperate for recruits, but we’re surely not taking on roly-poly ragamuffins like her.’
    ‘Keep your voice down, Henry, and show her some respect.’
    ‘Respect? How can anyone respect a vagabond?’
    ‘Rachel