Читать книгу The Liberation Of Miss Finch - Diane Gaston - Страница 9

Badajoz, Spain, 1812

Twelve-year-old Claude Mableau cowered in the corner of the Spanish courtyard, covering his ears with his hands.

No use. The sounds of the rioting, his mother’s screams, fists pounding on his father’s body, continued to assault him. The siege of Badajoz was lost, and British soldiers swarmed the city, shouting and killing and looting. He’d been frightened when his father appeared at the door of their home, his French uniform torn and stained with blood. They’d fled. No time to pack. No time to think. The entire French army was in flight.

When they reached the courtyard, three British soldiers, wild-eyed and smelling of drink, attacked. His father fought. His mother pushed Claude away and one of the red-coated men seized her. Claude ran and hid.

But he could still see two of the soldiers beating on his father, over and over and over. Suddenly Claude watched his father’s eyes widen in shock. His father fell, hitting the stone pavement so hard Claude heard the thud. The British soldier backed away holding a knife dripping with blood.

Claude covered his mouth with his fist. Was his father dead? Where was his mother? One of the soldiers had forced her to the ground while the others laughed. Claude screwed his eyes shut.

A pistol shot rang out. Two of the red-coated soldiers ran, but the third straddled his mother and pulled up her skirt.

Claude heard his father’s voice in his head. You are not a helpless baby. Be brave.

Claude dashed from his hiding place and jumped on the British soldier’s back. The man was too big. Too strong. He flung Claude away like rubbish.

Other British soldiers came and he was terrified at what would come next. Would they kill his mother? Would they kill him?

Instead these men talked in calm voices. They led Claude and his mother away, away from the body of his father, back to his house, now a shamble of broken furniture and shattered dishes.

Through the fog in Claude’s mind, though, he remembered with clarity one British face, one British name.

Edwin Tranville.

Claude repeated the name over and over so he would never forget it.

Edwin Tranville.

Someday, even if he must travel to the ends of the earth, even if it took a lifetime, he would make Edwin Tranville pay for the death of his father and the attack on his mother.

Someday.