Rules of War. Iain Gale

Saw the dead French infantry, the ground awash with their blood. He grinned at Steel. ‘By God, sir. You have done well. Six dead and two more to go? You surprise me, Steel. I had taken you for a weaker man.’

      He turned to the sergeant who had followed up with the rest of the redcoats. ‘You see, McKellar. You must not judge a man by first appearances. Well done, sir.’

      Steel shook his head: ‘You mistake me, My Lord. I am not the author of this murder. This is the work of the village militia. It is torture, sir. No more than torture and murder, done in cold blood. If we had not come upon them when we did the commandant here and his lieutenant would have also suffered horribly.’

      Argyll’s grin fell away. ‘Torture? Murder? By God, sir. I was not mistaken then. You are a friend of the French.’

      Slaughter had arrived back from the barn and, seeing Argyll, snapped to attention next to Steel. ‘That’s all the men locked away, sir. Under guard. Their officer too, sir.’

      Argyll squinted: ‘What? Who’s locked away? What officer?’

      Slaughter turned directly to the question: ‘Why the village militia, Your Honour. Them that did this. We have them under guard, sir.’

      ‘Then you will damn well remove your guard, sergeant. Forthwith.’

      Slaughter smiled: ‘Now that, Your Honour, I cannot do as Captain Steel himself has ordered me to place them under guard.’

      Argyll, his face puce, turned to Steel: ‘Captain Steel, I will not have this rank insubordination in my brigade. Place this man on a charge and then see to the release of your prisoners. My God man, they’re on our side!’