Free The Price of Glory by Seth Hunter

needed—and by river.
    Bennett was confident it could be done and that with the tide they could reach Auray in three or four hours.
    â€œAnd, in your opinion, can Charette hold the town, with the forces he has at his command?”
    â€œWell, that depends what is disposed against him, sir. But long enough, I reckon, if his men were better armed and provisioned.”
    But Nathan could not take Bennett’s word for this.
    â€œThat can be done,” he assured him. “If you are willing to go back there with one of my officers to arrange for their distribution.”
    â€œI’m your man there, sir—most willing.”
    It occurred to Nathan that as a pressed man in the King’s Service it did not matter if he were willing or not.
    â€œYou are back in the service now,” he reminded him, “and answerable to me and any other officer, not to any Tom, Dick—or de Batz.”
    â€œAye, aye, sir.” The grin again. “So I am to act as quartermaster.”
    â€œIn a manner of speaking,” Nathan replied cautiously, “but you will be entered on the ship’s books as able seaman and you are not to forget it and take it into your head to go wandering about the countryside again.”
    â€œWould that be dated back, sir, to when I was took?”
    Nathan reminded himself that the fellow was from Nantucket and certain allowances must be made.
    â€œI will instruct the purser accordingly. Is that to your satisfaction, Bennett?”
    If Bennett noted the sarcasm he did not let it trouble him. “Well, I guess I am in no position to haggle,” he conceded cheerfully.
    â€œNo, you are not,” Nathan assured him. “And you will remember that you are subject to the Articles of War—and the penalties for breaking them. Now get back to your men.”
    But there were other questions preying on his mind and for once time was not so pressing. The men were hunkered down for the night, the
Unicorn
as secure as she could be with half her masts down and the rest of his little fleet moored in the sheltered waters of the Gulf of Morbihan.
    â€œWait,” he called out, as the man turned away, pulling down his hat. “You have served the Chevalier de Batz for long?”
    â€œA few months, I reckon.”
    â€œAnd what impression did you form of his character?”
    â€œHis character?”
    â€œHis character, Bennett. As an officer and a gentleman.”
    The American turned his head aside and for a moment Nathan thought he was going to spit, but he only smiled grimly and said, “He’s a brutal swine of a man and incompetent with it. Whatever his title.” This was reassuring. What came next was not. “However, he is kin to the Comte de Puisaye who commands the Royalist troops at Quiberon.”
    â€œI see.”
    â€œWill that be all, sir?”
    â€œJust a moment. You heard his order—before I was obliged to … to seize him up?”
    â€œYes, sir.” Bennett had stepped a little away from the light and it was impossible to read his expression but his tone was cautious.
    â€œAnd what did you hear?”
    A moment before the answer came. “He ordered us to kill them.”
    â€œ
Kill them. Kill them all.”
    â€œI believe that was the gist of it.”
    â€œAnd what did you take him to mean by that?”
    â€œThat we was to kill the Blues.”
    â€œThe prisoners?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œAnd what of the rest of us?”
    Bennett frowned. “Well, truly I did not really give that much thought. It was all so quick—and then you had him by the throat.”
    â€œVery well, Bennett.” But there was another question he had to ask. He put his hand up to his breast pocket to check he still had the letter. “There is one more thing.”
    â€œSir?”
    â€œYou saw a great deal of the Vendée, I suppose, on your travels.”
    â€œMore than I wished, sir, the state it