Warrior

Hervey smiled the more. He was not given to flattering to advantage, but if ever he had the inclination . . .

'But perhaps I should add "novi omnes dies", for certainly Pliny never saw such sights as these.'

Hervey frowned at his old friend's proposal to gild the lily. 'Recollect, Sir Eyre, that assiduous observation was in the end the death of him.'

Somervile scowled. 'Not only do you tempt the Fates, you betray a want of comprehension. Recollect that it was not the volcano that killed Pliny; he was found with not a mark upon him. He was by that time a corpulent man, and almost certainly placed a strain upon his heart wholly in excess of its capacity.'

Hervey smiled wryly, and raised an eyebrow, glancing at the spread (if undoubtedly diminished of late) that was the lieutenantgovernor's waist. 'Just so.'

Somervile appeared not to notice, intent as he was on a greenbacked heron that flapped low and awkwardly between them and the scouts. 'It was a heron that crossed our path the first time you and I rode together,' he replied absently.

Hervey did not recall it. 'At Cape-town?'

Somervile looked at him, puzzled. 'At Guntoor. A pair of them, indeed. The day we rode to see what ill the Pindarees had done.'

Hervey shook his head: Madras was an age ago. 'You astound me, Somervile. I remember the Pindaree depredations, but . . .'

'Do you not recall my quarters at Guntoor? I have a clear recollection of your being greatly discomfited by the house snakes.'

'I have no recollection of them, no, although I do remember your quarters,' he replied warily, for he was invariably discomfited by snakes, despite his years in India.

'They were night herons at Guntoor, however. I wonder if the species is to be found in these parts . . .'

A big black bird the size of a turkey, with a huge curved bill and vivid red face, scuttled out of the scrub a dozen yards ahead of them and made for the haven of a nearby thorn bush. Somervile's horse protested at the effrontery, resisting its rider's attempts to close with the bush for a better look, until shortened reins, and spurs, did the trick.

Hervey did not feel inclined to follow so eagerly; he had never been as keen an observer of the bird kingdom as Somervile (except birds of prey). They would surely see more if they stood off a little?

Johnson took the opportunity to come up alongside him. 'What were Mr Somervile sayin – liquid an' Africa? An' thee abaht dyin, sir? Ah couldn't catch it right.'

Hervey was long past protesting that being overheard was one thing, but having to repeat himself quite another. 'Latin, a saying by a general called Pliny: "There is always something new out of Africa." And I said that Sir Eyre should remember that Pliny's curiosity was the death of him, because, when the volcano erupted, he went to take a closer look, and was killed.'

'But there aren't no volcanoes 'ere, are there?'

'None that I can see. I meant in the general sense, that care killed the cat.'

'What?'

Hervey turned in the saddle, and thrust his hand out. ' "What, courage man! What though care killed a cat." '

Johnson looked at him strangely. 'Tha's chirrupy this mornin', sir.'

'Shakespeare, Johnson! "What though care killed a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care." '

'What? Shakespeare talked like that?'

'Like what?'

'Like me.'

Hervey looked at him quizzically. 'Now that you mention it—'

But Somervile had closed with him again, and so Johnson fell respectfully back a length.

'Some sort of hornbill, as I never saw before. What was that you were saying?'

'About Guntoor?'

'No; Private Johnson.' He looked over his shoulder and nodded, to Johnson's satisfaction. 'Much Ado About Nothing, was it not?'

Hervey had to think for a moment. 'It was.'

' "Thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care." And thou dost indeed, Hervey. And I am depending on it.'

Hervey scowled back. 'It is for that dependability that His Majesty pays me, Sir Eyre.'

Somervile affected no notice. 'You know, Hervey, this infantry command you are to take up . . . I am not so certain it is second best. There may perhaps be the greater opportunity for distinction.'

Hervey looked at his old friend, curious. 'What makes you say that? What greater distinction might there be than to make history with the lieutenant-governor of the Cape Colony?'

The sun's increasing warmth had brought out the horseflies – bigger even than those in Bengal. Somervile's charger was beginning to object to their attentions, and Hervey's Molly the same. 'Before I address that, I propose we trot a while to see if we can shake these beggars off.'

Hervey signalled to the column, though he doubted they would leave the flies behind at a mere trot; and he did not consider it wise to allow a canter just yet in country he did not know (bare country that it was, as poor grassland as the great plain in Wiltshire).

'And so: distinction?' he prompted, raising his voice a little as they bumped along.

Somervile looked pleased. 'There's much to be done in Canada. Not an affair of arms, of course – or rather, I trust not – but of consolidation, with the Americans, the border, the native Indians and the like.'

They had spoken only a little of Canada since Emma had told Hervey the good news. Both were of the view that contemplating the next posting was the besetting sin of the too-ambitious man.

The prospect was appealing, though; it did not do to be forever taking up arms. 'And when is it, you say, that you go?'

'To be decided. Indeed, I ought to repeat that the appointment is yet to be approved, but if Huskisson manages to stay at the Colonies Office the position will be mine. I did not mention, too, that it is upon the most agreeable terms.'

Hervey checked his mare, for she was beginning to force the pace. 'I am excessively pleased. When I was last—'

But the sudden activity of the scouts half a mile ahead stayed his recollections. Hervey's hand was raised even before Somervile noticed.

The column fell back to a walk, and then halted. Out came the telescopes.

'What do they signal, Hervey?'

One scout was circling around a second, anti-clockwise, in a twenty-yard radius, his horse on a long rein.

The movement contained all the information Hervey needed. 'Zulu, on foot, between one and two dozen, stationary.'

'Scouts, perhaps?' suggested Somervile, trying to keep his horse still enough to train his telescope.

'I would think so,' said Hervey, searching the ground to left and right. 'We expected them, did we not?' They had been marching for two hours and more – long enough for Shaka's standing patrols to have learned of the column's approach.

All Serjeant Hardy's scouts were now observing the Zulu from the crest of the hill.

Hervey was keen to close with them to make his own reconnaissance. 'Hardy's orders are to halt on first contact. Shall we take a look?'