The Toymaster's Castle

Chapter Forty-Seven - New Recruits

"Report!" Daniel ordered in his best imitation of Sarge's voice.

"We won," Nathan managed to say at last. "We ambushed them out by the Amberton's farm. Seven of them are dead and nine captured. But Alan's dead... Sarge cut his throat." He collapsed into tears.

"And why did he do that, Son?" the chaplain asked. He had brought over a glass of water and put an arm around the distraught young man's shoulders.

"He'd been shot..." Nathan sobbed. "In the stomach... Sarge didn't think he was going to make it."

"These days, any sort of serious stomach wound is not survivable," the chaplain explained gently. "Your friend would have been in a great deal of pain and there was absolutely nothing anybody could do to help him. I hope that, in the same situation, my friends would have the courage to do the same for me."

"I suppose," Nathan sniffed.

"Then you suppose right."

The chaplain turned to Daniel. "Have you any further questions for this young man?" he asked.

Daniel thought about this then shook his head.

"Right," Daniel said as soon as Nathan had been led away. "I'd better get down there. You are going to stay here."

I nodded. After the last time, I certainly didn't want a repeat of the battlefield experience.

"If you have a few minutes to spare, you might want to give some thought as to how we are going to decide which of their guys are safe to keep and which ones we have to get rid of."

The phrase 'get rid of' had a horribly terminal feel to it but I had to keep telling myself that, if I hadn't got involved, then they would all have been 'got rid of' by now.

"Yes, Master," I said... well... more mouthed, really, without any noise. I mean... I didn't mind calling him that in private but out here, with all the normal people about, it would have just felt weird!

I really didn't know what else to do so I found myself helping to tidy up the church hall. I was carrying a pile of plates into the kitchen when the chaplain reappeared.

"When the time comes for him to drink himself into oblivion, make sure he's got a friend or two with him," he told me.

"You've dealt with this sort of thing before?"

"Twenty-five years as a chaplain in the Welsh Guards," he said. "Helping young men to come to terms with the concept of mortality does not get any easier but you do gain some experience and learn a few tricks."

I spent the afternoon with Susan and Mary. We didn't know Alan very well but it was still pretty shocking to lose one of our guys like that.

But I had the horrible feeling we were going to have to get used to it.

Our boys returned at about four o'clock. The young lad who was running errands for the landlord... I think it was his nephew or something... appeared to tell me that they had been spotted coming towards town.

I sent him on down to the cathedral to collect Nathan and then we hurried over to the edge of town to meet them. It just felt like the right thing to do.

When they appeared, the guys looked in a terrible state... exhausted from a night without sleep and numb from the loss of one of their companions. The prisoners were pushing a cart with the body on it and they looked pretty grim too. I guess they were expecting some sort of gruesome and ceremonial death.

But Sarge got the boys lined up in parade ground order... including Nathan... and they marched into town with their heads held high.

And the people of town came out to greet them. They stood in a respectful silence as the boys marched down the High Street. They carried the dead boy up into one of the hotel rooms and Sarge ordered a couple of lads, including Nathan, to deal with him.