Chapter Three, The First Last Stand

True to his word, Lord George Paget returned the very next morning, his lined face triumphant as he commented on my incredible progress, watching approvingly as I struggled, unassisted, to my elbows.  I eventually managed to sit upright, propped against the back of the bed, after much difficulty and at least an equal amount of swearing, I might add.  For although I endeavoured to maintain a brave face throughout my recovery – I didn’t want Raglan to send me home, and even went so far as to lie through my teeth about how much the pain had reduced, something I would regret later, as it turned out – I failed to totally disguise how bad things really were.

But behind him, lingering nervously in the doorway, stood a pale, anxious-looking man, who stepped forward into the light to reveal his full form, fragile and battered though it was.  The man was so tense and gaunt that he looked more like a mere skeleton, draped in an ill-fitting skin, than a human being.  When he caught sight of me, tentatively moving to sit upright in my bed, his sunken eyes seemed to light up, as if he had just witnessed the most glorious of things.  He hurried to my side, as quickly as his weak state could manage, and lifted me gently into a sitting position, without a word.  His hazel eyes never left my face the whole time he was helping me, as he took in my taut skin, my red-rimmed eyes, my matted hair, my lined forehead.  He saw me bite back a yelp as he repositioned my legs, and his whole face filled with anguish.  Finally satisfied that I was sitting as comfortably as circumstances allowed, the silent man perched himself on the edge of the bed, and sat there quietly, watching me.

I must confess, this hollow man frightened me a little at first, and unsettled me too.  But more than that, his condition appalled me.  He looked terrible at first sight, and closer viewing only made more plain his fragile state.  He had deep purple pouches beneath his eyes, and the haunted look of one who has seen and done things that other men can draw near to only in their most horrific nightmares.  “Harvey?” I asked uncertainly.  Was this the same man that Paget had described as being well on the road to recovery, vivid and eager for action?  I couldn’t credit it.  “William Harvey?”  I repeated, for there was no response from the shadow of a man sitting by my feet.

The man looked at me carefully, and said, “Yes.  I am William Harvey.  You are George Montgomery, as I have learned from the esteemed Lord Raglan,” and here he waved a hand in Lord George’s general direction.  “It seems that I owe you a debt of honour, sir, for without your intervention I feel sure that I would have been just another Russian prize, bagged in the game hunt we call war.”  Harvey paused to draw breath, and I interjected, “Lieutenant, it was more than my conscience could have stood, to leave behind any man who could be saved.  I know in my heart that my actions were those I felt were right and honourable, and it was no more than my duty to serve and protect my senior officers.  I am of course deeply moved that you consider my actions worthwhile and of such significance, but I beg you not to be over-hasty in your judgement of my so-called heroics.”  There I stopped abruptly, and looked the Lieutenant right in his wide, hazel-coloured eyes.  I had said my piece, and I waited with bated breath to see whether he would make a more reasonable judgement of my conduct than Lord Paget, or if he would allow his emotions carry him away on a sea of undeserved praise of my conduct.

Harvey sat there a moment, his lips turned up at the corners in a faintly bemused expression.  He turned his frame to face George Paget, who – still lingering by the door – wore a matching look of amusement tinged with disbelief.  “Sound like you were right sir,” the Lieutenant called across to the other man.  “Denial.  Ha, half the men out there were cowering behind a rock the whole time, or else running from the fight like cowards, and not one man amongst them would claim that they acted with anything less than unquestionable heroism.  And here, a man who truly has earned the title ‘hero’ says he did no more than any other – incredible!”  Harvey chuckled, and turned back to me.  “Surely, surely you cannot be so naïve as to think your actions were merely ordinary!  Nor are there more than a handful of men in this world so modest as to dismiss such an act of pure nerve and self-sacrifice on their part as merely doing their duty, and yet-” here he paused, for breath or dramatic effect I have never been quite sure, “and yet here you are.”

With a heavy, laboured sigh, I replied: “You know my opinions, gentlemen, but if you require of me that I assume another mantle then I shall fulfil my role fittingly – though I am not entirely comfortable with the masquerade.  Put simply, sirs, I shall play the hero if you ask it of me, though I cannot believe it to be true.”  Raglan beamed across his weathered face, and Harvey gave a small smile and shrugged.  “Well, my boy, it seems that we cannot change your mind on the matter – a great pity, too – but I thank you deeply for your willingness to co-operate.  A symbol such as yourself will provide great inspiration for the men, I know.  You have set the standard high, young sir, and no mistake.  But you’re someone for them to look up to, to emulate – even despite your tenderness of years you have shown a maturity and courage in your heart that goes beyond mere age,” said Lord George, and William Harvey cried: “Hear, hear!”

They seemed in remarkably high spirits, so I decided to capitalise on the popularity my decision had brought.  “Lieutenant,” I began, only to be interrupted and told to ‘Call me William, please!’, “William, could I impose upon you to ask a favour?  Your arm, a moment?”  William seemed a little taken aback at my odd request, but complied.  I grasped his arm with both hands so hard that my knuckles turned bone-white and, bracing myself, I pulled myself up to my feet, gritting my teeth against the pain of movement.  The two men both let out shocked gasps at my sudden burst of movement, and stood stock still for a moment, just watching me.  “Don’t just stand there, help me!” I growled through my teeth.  It was not my place to speak in such a way to my superior officers, but I could feel the strength in my arms waning, and knew that without support I would soon lose my grip and fall down again.  The men seemed to awake from their shocked trances at my voice, and they immediately rushed into action, one man at each of my elbows, holding my frame upright.  “What the devil do you think you’re playing at boy?” demanded George Paget, his face red.  “Do you want to undo all of the doctor’s hard work?  You could have fallen and made your state one hundred times worse- or even been killed!  What are you thinking?”  I managed a smile, and spoke, my words coming in bursts as I regained my breath: “Got to… set a standard, sir… for the men.  Now that I’m a… hero, and all… can’t be seen… lying about wasting… time, sir.”  A sudden rush of pain had me doubled over in an instant, taking me by surprise.  I remained immobile that way for a matter of minutes, before the pain had subsided enough for me to consider straightening up again.  I coughed feebly, all my energy sapped by the agonising episode.

“What exactly is wrong with me, sir?”  I managed to wheeze.  “I mean, why is this happening?  It can’t be so bad, after all – I’m still standing aren’t I?” I added on the end as I caught a glimpse of Harvey’s face.  His features had become contorted into a mask of sorrow, and when he spoke I would swear he choked back a sob.  “Your leg, when you fell, it didn’t just break.  The shattered bone tore through the muscle in the back of your leg – that’s why you couldn’t walk.  The doctor assures us it’ll heal, but… you need time.  Aside from that, that sword blow you took barely missed your lung, as you were told.  But a cut that deep, right through the flesh, will leave you with an impressive scar, at least, and most likely will never fully recover.  Oh, and a couple of cracked ribs to boot – but they’re the least of your worries, my friend.”  It was my turn to be shocked – stunned actually.  I’d guessed my condition was fairly serious, but this?  It was too much for me to take in, and for a few seconds I blacked out.  Coming to, I replied: “All that, eh?  Ha!  Well, lads, you’d better appreciate the show I’m about to give you, seeing as I mightn’t be around to give another!”  With that, I began my steady progress across the room and out into the camp, virtually carried by William on my left and Lord George on my right, each man taking half my slight weight.  “Showtime,” I muttered to myself, then lifted my head to face the amassing crowd of expectant soldiers.