Company Of Spears

Hervey at once had to check himself. In law Lieutenant Edward Fairbrother was most certainly at the governor’s call – the governor, the King’s person. ‘There is no question of obliging you, Mr Fairbrother. That is precisely why I came in person: to ask you. And as to any business interests, you may be assured that you would be properly compensated.’

Mama Anky brought tea. Fairbrother took his time pouring it, not appearing to be contemplating Hervey’s proposition in the least. ‘Colonel Hervey, when Lord Somerset – I should say Lord Charles Somerset – was governor, there were frequent opportunities for inter-course, but his lordship not once deigned to ask me to the castle, though he knew full well enough of my capabilities.’

Hervey sighed, though inwardly. He had no recommendation of Fairbrother other than that he spoke the language of the tribes on the Fish River frontier. This resentment of his would be altogether too tedious in but a few days’ marching. ‘I cannot imagine that Lord Charles Somerset would intend any slight on an officer who had served his king as you had.’

Fairbrother smiled pityingly and raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you know the family?’

Hervey was beginning to object to the tone. He fancied he never stood on his rank, but lieutenant-colonel, even by brevet, required some respect; Fairbrother had an arrogant presumption … ‘I had but a brief acquaintance with his younger brother, Lord FitzRoy – at Waterloo.’

Fairbrother at once sat up on the mention of Waterloo. He uncrossed his legs, turned his eyes to the teapot and occupied himself in replenishing his merely half-empty cup by way of allowing himself to begin anew. ‘A very noble and gallant man, Lord FitzRoy, by all accounts. Were you there when he lost his arm?’

An understanding of the battle of Waterloo: Hervey was indeed obliged. He intended to press to advantage this unexpected turn. ‘I rather think that at the moment Lord FitzRoy was hit there was so much smoke I could scarcely see the man next to me.’

The half-pay lieutenant’s whole demeanour was now changed. He asked several more questions about the battle, most of which Hervey was able to answer, though not all by his own exact experience. As he explained, the battle was of a scale he could barely contemplate still; quite unlike any of those in the Peninsula – not Corunna, not Talavera, nor Salamanca nor even Vitoria.

At length Fairbrother smiled – a warm, conceding smile which Hervey found himself returning willingly, and thankfully.

‘I believe I might arrange for you to be restored to the Active List, if that is what you wished. There are supernumerary posts in the Rifles.’

But Fairbrother shook his head, though still smiling. ‘No, Colonel Hervey, I should not wish to be so restored. There is, I am afraid to tell you, an impediment – Lord Charles Somerset’s son, whom his father promoted shamelessly during his time here. I do not care for his manners, nor much for his fashion of soldiery. I could not serve in a corps with such a man; and certainly not when he were my superior.’

Hervey now found himself saying what he would otherwise have regarded as improper. His instincts were ever for the correct practice of good order and military discipline (though he had rarely flinched, certainly of late, from respectfully speaking his mind), but he saw no reason to let that stand in the way of what seemed necessary for the execution of the King’s business. ‘Mr Fairbrother, between these four walls, I believe we may share the same opinion of Colonel Somerset. But it is I who have command of the Mounted Rifles, and I enjoy the confidence of the lieutenant-governor. You would need have no concerns on that account.’

Fairbrother said nothing, nodding slowly instead as if weighing Hervey’s words. Then he rose and went to a writing desk and opened a drawer. ‘See here,’ he said, holding out in turn two miniatures. ‘My father.’

Hervey saw a fine-looking man, as fine – and as white – as any he might see in the United Service Club.

‘My mother.’

Hervey could not entirely hide his surprise. The likeness was of a black woman, unquestionably a pleasing-looking woman, though frankly no more than pleasing. ‘I … I am not at all clear what is your purpose in this.’

‘You might wish to ask yourself, Colonel Hervey, whether I am my father’s son or my mother’s.’

Hervey no longer concealed his surprise. ‘You are both, I should imagine! Why should it be of any concern to me?’

Fairbrother took back the miniatures and replaced them in the writing desk, as if drawing a veil over his vexing provenance. ‘You may not be certain of my ultimate loyalties. Colonel Somerset for one would doubt what would be my true feelings towards the Xhosa, cousins of my mother’s people, albeit distant, that they are.’

‘Great Gods! You took the oath to King George and all his heirs and successors did you not? And I imagine there was not a doubt when you were with the Royal Africans?’