Free Valiant Soldier, Beautiful Enemy by Diane Gaston Page B

with politics.
    Good thing he had never told Landon about partaking of the spoils of war. At Vittoria, in Spain, Napoleon’s brother, Joseph Bonaparte, had fled in panic, abandoning his riches, which were scattered across a field, tempting even the most honest of men. Gabe, like countless other soldiers, had filled his pockets. Not Landon, though. Landon had been appalled.
    The shack’s roof pounded with the rain. Gabe and Landon huddled near their small fire that gave them little relief from the chill.
    One of the junior officers, streams of water dripping off the capes of his cloak, appeared in their doorway of their shack. “General Tranville wants to see you, Captains.”
    Gabe groaned. “More nonsense. I’ll make a wager with you.”
    Landon clapped him on the back. “You know I never gamble.”
    They wrapped themselves in their cloaks and dashed through the downpour to the peasant’s hut that Tranville had made his billet.
    “Mind your boots! Mind your boots!” Tranville shouted as they entered. Edwin, a sour look on his scarred face, manned the door.
    They cleaned as much of the mud off as they could, the rain sneaking down the collars of their coats. After closing the door behind them, Edwin took a swig from a flask. Some sort of spirits, Gabe reckoned.
    Tranville barked orders at them, nothing more than mere posturing, however.
    He fixed the men with what he must have thought was a steely glare. “I’ll have no laggardly behaviour, do you hear? You tell your men they are to hop to or they’ll answer to me.”
    “Yes, sir!” chirped a young lieutenant.
    Gabe put on his most bland expression. He could endure Tranville for this brief period, but only because it was warm and dry in the hut.
    “Landon,” Tranville went on, “I want you to find Picton tonight. See if he has any message for me.”
    General Picton was the commander of the 5th Division of which the Royal Scots were a part. Landon’s task was to carry messages for Picton and Tranville during the battle, but it was ridiculous to send Landon out in this weather merely on the off chance Picton might have a message.
    Landon must have had the same reaction. He glanced over to the small window, its wooden shutters clattering from the wind and rain. “Yes, sir.”
    “And stay available to me tomorrow. I may need you during the battle.”
    Landon knew that already, of course. “Yes, sir.”
    Tranville nodded in obvious approval. His gaze drifted to Gabe and his lips pursed, but luckily his glance continued to his son, who was sitting on a stool sneaking sips from his flask.
    There was a knock on the door and Tranville signalled for Edwin to open it. With a desultory expression, Edwin complied.
    “Oh, Good God,” Edwin drawled, stepping aside.
    Jack Vernon, the ensign—now lieutenant—who’d been with them in Badajoz, stood in the doorway.
    Gabe poked Landon to call his attention to Vernon. He noticed that Tranville caught his gesture and quickly erased any expression from his face.
    Vernon slanted a glance at Gabe and Landon before turning back to Tranville and handing him a message.
    Tranville snatched the paper from Vernon’s hand and snapped at him, “You will wait for my reply.”
    Gabe exchanged another glance with Landon. This was not the first time Vernon and Tranville had encountered each other, obviously. Whatever had transpired between them had left them acrimonious.
    Tranville stretched his arm and seemed to be writing as slowly as he could. He dragged out this interaction with Vernon, presuming it would annoy the lieutenant, no doubt. Finally Tranville said, “Leave now.”
    Landon spoke up, “With your permission, I’ll leave now, as well.”
    “Go.” He waved him away.
    Vernon left, Landon right behind him.
    “Do you have further need of me?” asked Gabe.
    “Of course not,” snapped Tranville. “All of you go.”
    Once outside Tranville’s billet, Landon and Gabe pulled Vernon aside. “Do you have time for some