Goldney ordered a charge. Spreading out and moving in from opposing flanks upon the sangars, the men scrambled up the rocks, firing at will and engaging the Ghazis at bayonet point. Surprised, and with no one to direct their movements, the Ghazis gave ground before the furious assault and the ridge was captured, completely without losses. Even as Sadullah was preparing to order his Ghazis into action, the first engagement of the battle was over and Castle Rock was captured.
Lucas and Andre watched with General Blood and his staff from the heights of Castle Rock as the British troops below pressed home the advantage of surprise. The infantry fixed bayonets and advanced into the Ghazi ranks. Without enemy fire from Castle Rock impeding their movements, they were able to deploy and press their way through. So quickly had Goldney’s men captured Castle Rock that the troops down below were already deployed and in position to force open the passage before the Ghazis knew that Castle Rock had fallen. By the time they realised what had happened, it was too late.
The assaulting troops charged into the Ghazi ranks. The Ghazis panicked and began to flee. As Sadullah watched in disbelief, his followers broke ranks and ran, scrambling from the rocks, where they were suddenly vulnerable to fire from the troops on Castle Rock. They took flight down the graded road to escape being trapped by their own numbers in the narrow pass.
“No!” Sadullah screamed uselessly. “Stand and fight! Stand and fight, you cowardly dogs!”
But his words were lost upon the wind.
“We’ve done it, General!’ said Hugo, standing beside Blood and watching the enemy in full flight. “We’ve broken through! We can post pickets in the pass and reinforce our position. Now we can—”
“No,” said Blood. “I will not allow them to escape so they can join with the tribesmen at Chakdarra and warn them. We’ll finish this here and now. They’ll be on the plain once they have retreated through the pass. Fully exposed and on foot. Order forth the lancers. No prisoners. No survivors.”
The signal was given and the four squadrons of cavalry charged. Delaney, leading the second squadron of Bengal Lancers, couched his lance and leaned forward slightly, bearing down upon the fleeing Ghazis before him. It was going to be a slaughter. The tribesmen still trapped in the pass were run down and trampled by the lancers as they thundered through. The cavalry formed a line upon the plain and charged the fleeing enemy. There was no escape. The Ghazis died in the rice fields, run through by the lances and hacked to death by sabres. Bodies fell everywhere as the lancers descended on the running Ghazis and butchered them.
“Christ,” said Hugo, turning away from the carnage down below. “I’m sorry, General, but that’s more than I can stand too watch. I’ve seen enough of death.”
Churchill was riveted by the spectacle. “They shall not forget this,” he said. “It’s probably the first time any of them have seen what cavalry can do, given room to deploy their strength. Henceforth the very words Bengal Lancers shall strike terror into their hearts.”
He turned away and walked toward Hugo. At that moment one lone Ghazi who had remained undiscovered, hidden behind the rocks of his crumbled sangar, rose to a kneeling position and brought his jezail to bear upon Hugo, whom he took to be the commander of the British forces. As he raised his rifle, Lucas spotted him.
“Hugo, look out!”
Instinctively, after so much time spent under enemy fire, Hugo reacted by throwing himself down flat upon the ground. In an instant, Lucas saw that Hugo’s combat-quick response had placed Churchill directly in the line of fire. In the white heat of adrenaline-charged clarity, he saw it all. He made a running dive for Churchill. The Ghazi fired. The .50 calibre ball slammed into Lucas’s chest, ploughing through the thorax and tearing everything in its path. Andre fired the revolver Hugo had given her, shooting the Ghazi right between the eyes.
Churchill stood, shocked, staring at the limp body at his feet. Lucas Priest lay facedown upon the ground, blood draining from the gaping hole in his chest. “My God,” he said.
He crouched down over the body and gently turned it over. The others gathered round.
“Doctor, can’t you do something?” Churchill said.
Hugo looked down and shook his head. “I’m sorry, son. There’s nothing to be done. He saved my life, and then he gave his to save yours. And all he came here for was to preach the word of God.”
Andre got down on her knees and gently stroked Lucas’s forehead. “No,” she said, softly, “he came here to do much more than that.”
She looked at Churchill, kneeling opposite her. He looked up at her, stricken. She looked back down at the lifeless body of her friend. She reached out and touched his face. It was still warm. She trailed her fingers across his forehead and closed his eyes for the last time.
They stood silently over the grave. General Blood had read the words, and when they had all said “Amen,” Churchill had added a heartfelt, “Rest in peace, Father.”
/> He won’t do that here, Finn thought. When this is over, Search and Retrieve will disinter the body and return it to the time where it belongs. And another name will be added to the Wall of Honour at Division Headquarters, with a posthumous commendation.
He could not believe it. He had seen men die in combat throughout all of history, but he could not bring himself to accept that Lucas could be one of them. They had been through so much together, had faced death a hundred times and laughed about it later. There would be no laughing anymore. No more bouts of drinking Irish whiskey in the First Division lounge to wash away the taste of the last mission and celebrate having completed it successfully. No more brawling in the dives of San Diego and Ensenada, no more quiet nights spent with the old man in his private sanctum, sipping ancient wine as they talked about old missions.
The relief force was departing for Chakdarra. The job for them had only just begun. After the brief service, Blood had ordered Andre back to Peshawar, from there to depart for Simla, and preferably from Simla to England—which was home to her, so far as the general knew. He felt that the Father’s death was his responsibility, that he never should have allowed him to accompany the unit in the first place, that if it wasn’t for the fact that medical aid was sorely lacking, he would have been firm from the beginning. The frontier was no place for civilian non-combatants.
Finn was to head up a small detachment that would escort Andre back to safer territory and deliver dispatches to be sent on from Peshawar. Mulvaney, Learoyd, and Ortheris would be among those to accompany them, since they would have to ride and Blood didn’t feet that he could spare any of his lancers. The cavalry had proved to be of great value, and he needed all the experienced horsemen under his command. Sending back one officer—the one with the least experience on the frontier—and several foot soldiers who could ride after a fashion, was the wisest choice. It would still be a hazardous journey, but one small mounted unit could move quickly and stood a better chance of getting through. All the tribes in the vicinity were up in arms, and most of them could be expected to join the forces at Chakdarra. There was far less risk in taking the opposite direction.
“I should have taken that bullet,” Churchill said. “I am a soldier whose duty is to die for queen and country if the need arises. He was a man of God who would not even carry a gun.”
He was about as far from being a man of God as a man could get, thought Finn. His duty was to die, as well, if the need arose. He had discharged it. His death was not for nothing.
“It’s over then,” said Finn, when they had gone. “We’ve done what we’ve come back here to do. Or Lucas has. Churchill will live now and go on to become prime minister of Great Britain. Ironic, isn’t it? We came here to find a disruption to adjust, and it found us.”
“Something’s wrong,” Andre said.”If I could think straight, maybe I could figure out what the hell it is, but I can’t manage to do that now. All I know is that something’s wrong. It isn’t over yet. Maybe we should have remained with the field force.”
“Not much chance of that, after Blood ordered us back,” said Finn. “Besides, I don’t know what the hell we should have done or should be doing. I just don’t know anything anymore, and I don’t much care either.”
“You didn’t remember Churchill before I told you about him, did you?” said Andre.