Craven's War: Standoff by Nick S. Thomas

Author:Nick S. Thomas [Thomas, Nick S.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Swordworks
Published: 2022-06-30T00:00:00+00:00

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The beautiful Spanish countryside was a welcome treat as they rode on in their scouting duties, keeping a keen eye out for French scouts whilst enjoying the fresh air, relieved to have left the hellish fields of Albuera behind. The wounded having departed, it was becoming easier to put the battle into the back of their minds, for it was no great victory to be celebrated, and they all knew it. Whispers of the true extent of the losses had spread like wildfire after the battle. Almost a half of all British troops on the field had become casualties many said, and few doubted it. Many of the best Spanish troops had suffered similarly horrific losses, whilst only the Portuguese had gotten off comparatively lightly.

French losses must surely have been equally as horrifying, a quarter of their army having fallen on that bloody day, but that was no relief to allied troops. The calm morning ride was soon interrupted by a lone British light cavalryman in his royal blue tunic. He thundered towards them with much urgency, though as he closed with them, he looked puzzled as to who he should address. For Craven was in the uniform of the infantry and Hunt was barely in a uniform at all.

“General Lumley requests your immediate presence!”

“What lies ahead?” Craven demanded.

“French cavalry, maybe three thousand or more,” replied the man sternly.

He checked a map he held in his pocket before launching off to gather up more of the scouting troops ready for battle. It had been a week since Albuera, and most of the troops had hoped the French had seen enough bloodshed for a little while, but all hopes had been dashed.

“How many does Lumley have?” Craven asked.

“Two thousand, maybe,” replied Hunt.

“So, we could be facing double our number?”

“Good odds for us, Sir!” Paget yelled excitedly.

“Do not fear, Craven, for you are led by a lucky man!” Hunt raced onwards to lead the way. Craven shook his head as he had little faith in Archie’s seemingly foolish faith.

“Perhaps he has a point, Sir? How do some men die in the first exchange of musket fire and others live through a dozen battles?”

Craven had no answers for Paget, but it did make him curious. He had always had such bad luck at cards, and yet he had survived a great many battles.

Perhaps I am lucky after all?

Hunt’s cavalry were already fifty yards down the track whilst Craven’s tiny detachment of Salfords hadn’t moved.

“Are we joining this fight?” Matthys asked.

“Wellington sent us to be his eyes, but what good is that if they are used to watch our comrades lose a battle?” replied Craven as he led them on to be by Hunt’s side.

“Does Soult march for Badajoz again?”

“I imagine he tests the water, and so let him find it deep and fast flowing!” Hunt shouted back to Craven.

Craven shook his head, as he imagined Archie would be the kind of man to avoid a fight wherever he could. Even so,

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