Free 02 - Keane's Challenge by Iain Gale Page B

here.’
    Keane smiled. ‘I know, sir, I passed the general that message. We came from the front. From the outposts above Ciudad.’
    The man’s face, already florid, grew even redder. ‘You did, did you? And then I suppose you joined our lines?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘And you engaged the enemy and drove them off?’
    ‘Yes, sir, although we did not see them off. That was done by the cacadores.’
    Heredia smiled.
    The man, seeming at a loss for words, stared at Keane’s brown uniform. ‘What the devil d’you call that guise? That’s no uniform for an English officer. You’re Portuguese yourself, aren’t you?’
    ‘No, sir. Corps of Guides, as I said before.’
    He stared at Heredia. ‘But this man here’s a Porto isn’t he? How’s that?’
    ‘He is one of my men, sir. Late of the Portuguese cavalry. We have all sorts in our company.’
    The colonel frowned. ‘Yes, so I can see. Well, you’re to join us now, for our sins.’
    Silver arrived. ‘Sir, General Craufurd asks if you will attend him at once. He would know more of the French force.’
    The colonel stepped back in astonishment, stuck for speech. Keane smiled. ‘Thank you, Silver. Right, lads, you’d better follow me.’ He turned and looked up at the colonel. ‘Colonel, I think you might be as well to follow your own advice and General Craufurd’s orders and retire before the French arrive. They have a division on its way, you know.’ He turned before the officer could reply and led the way at the head of his men, knowing the air behind him would be blue with oaths.
    Once they were out of earshot, Ross laughed. ‘You’re a danger to yourself, sir. One of these days you’ll go too far.’
    ‘But not today, Ross, eh?’
    ‘Even so, sir, you’d be better not to do the same to Black Bob.’
    They found Craufurd standing on a large rock which gave a view out over the plain below them. He was raking the landscape with the telescope and it seemed at first as if he had not noticed them. But after a few moments, still with the glass to his eye, he looked down at them and spoke.
    ‘You’re Keane?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    The face was instantly familiar and yet at the same time not that of anyone he could call friend. General Sir Robert Craufurd was a legend in the army, as feared as he was loved. Black Bob, along with the late Sir John Moore, had created the Light Division as it now existed.
    The Light Division. A division of light infantry. A relatively new concept of units which fought using the tactics that had been developed in America during the revolution with such devastating results. There was something more. The individual intelligence of each and every one of the men was far above that of the rank and file. It took them, it was said, a mere seven minutes to get themselves under arms at night-time and just a quarter of an hour to form line of battle, day or night. The Light Division was Crawford’s child and he used it with care and good judgement. Wellington trusted him completely.
    Craufurd stared at Keane. Seemed to be judging him, as if he could read into his soul. ‘Good. Perhaps you can be of more use to me than this damned glass. How many of them are there? Exactly.’
    ‘As I understand it, sir, there is the best part of a division, but with support. Five thousand men, of all arms.’
    ‘Who commands?’
    ‘Général de Brigade Sainte-Croix, sir.’
    Craufurd nodded. ‘Sainte-Croix. Yes. I see.’ He climbed down from the rock and stood facing Keane. He was a little shorter, with straight dark hair parted in the centre, heavy eyebrows and a deeply furrowed forehead that seemed to warn of his quick temper. ‘Go on, Keane. How many cannon?’
    ‘Only some light guns as far as we could see, sir. Perhaps a half horse battery.’
    Craufurd nodded and thought for a moment. ‘That’s good work, Keane. Major Grant spoke well of you and he was as good as his word.’
    ‘Do you have any further orders for me, sir? Anything from Major