Flashman Papers 3-Book Collection 1: Flashman, Royal Flash, Flashman’s Lady. George Fraser MacDonald
Damned sight more than I learned in thirty years. Eh, Bennet? Too many ‘ee’s’ and ‘um’s’ for me. But that’s damned extraordinary, young man. How’d you pick it up?”
I did more explaining, about my gift for languages, and he shook his bald head and said he’d never heard the like. “A born linguist and a born lancer, bigod. Rare combination – too dam’ good for Company cavalry – all ride like pigs, anyway. Look here, young Flashman, I can’t think at this time in the morning. You call on me tonight, d’ye hear? We’ll go into this further. Hey, Bennet?”
And presently away he went, but I did call on him that evening, resplendent in my Cherrypicker togs, as he called them, and he looked at me and said:
“By God, Emily Eden mustn’t miss this! She’d never forgive me!”
To my surprise, this was his way of indicating that I should go with him to the Governor-General’s palace, where he was due for dinner, so of course I went, and had the privilege of drinking lemonade with their excellencies on their great marble verandah, while a splendid company stood about, like a small court, and I saw more quality in three seconds than in my three weeks in Calcutta. Which was very pleasant, but Crawford almost spoiled it by telling Lord Auckland about my duel with Bernier, at which he and Lady Emily, who was his sister, looked rather stiff – they were a stuffy pair, I thought – until I said fairly coolly to Crawford that I would have avoided the whole business if I could, but it had been forced upon Me. At this Auckland nodded approval, and when it came out that I had been under Arnold at Rugby, the old bastard became downright civil. Lady Emily was even more so – thank God for Cherrypicker pants – and when she discovered I was only nineteen years old she nodded sadly, and spoke of the fair young shoots on the tree of empire.
She asked about my family, and when she learned I had a wife in England, she said:
“So young to be parted. How hard the service is.”
Her brother observed, fairly drily, that there was nothing to prevent an officer having his wife in India with him, but I muttered something about winning my spurs, an inspired piece of nonsense which pleased Lady E. Her brother remarked that an astonishing number of young officers somehow survived the absence of a wife’s consolation, and Crawford chortled, but Lady E. was on my side by now, and giving them her shoulder, asked where I was to be stationed.
I told her, and since it seemed to me that if I played my cards right I might get a more comfortable posting through her interest – Governor-General’s aide was actually in my mind – I indicated that I had no great enthusiasm for Company service.
“Don’t blame him, either,” said Crawford. “Man’s a positive Pole on horseback; shouldn’t be wasted, eh, Flashman? Speaks Hindustani, too. Heard him.”
“Really?” says Auckland. “That shows a remarkable zeal in study, Mr Flashman. But perhaps Dr Arnold may be to thank for that.”
“Why must you take Mr Flashman’s credit away from him?” says Lady E. “I think it is quite unusual. I think he should be found a post where his talents can be properly employed. Do you not agree, General?”
“Own views exactly, ma’am,” says Crawford. “Should have heard him. ‘Hey, rissaldar’, says he, ‘um-tiddly-o-karo’, and the fellow understood every word.”
Now you can imagine that this was heady stuff to me; this morning I had been any old subaltern, and here I was hearing compliments from a Governor-General, and General, and the First Lady of India – foolish old trot though she was. You’re made, Flashy, I thought; it’s the staff for you, and Auckland’s next words seemed to bear out my hopes.
“Why not find something for him, then?” says he to Crawford. “General Elphinstone was saying only yesterday that he would need a few good gallopers.”
Well, it wasn’t the top of the tree, but galloper to a General was good enough for the time being.
“Bigod,” says Crawford, “your excellency’s right. What d’you say, Flashman? Care to ride aide to an army commander, hey? Better than Company work at the back of beyond, what?”
I naturally said I would be deeply honoured, and was starting to thank him, but he cut me off.
“You’ll be more thankful yet when you know where Elphinstone’s service’ll take you,” says he, grinning. “By gad, I wish I was your age and had the same chance. It’s a Company army mostly, of course, and a damned good one, but it took ’em a few years of service – as it would have taken you – to get where they wanted to be.”
I looked all eagerness, and Lady E. sighed and smiled together.
“Poor boy,” she said. “You must not tease him.”
“Well, it will be out by tomorrow, anyway,” says Crawford. “You don’t know Elphinstone, of course, Flashman – commands the Benares Division, or will do until midnight tonight. And then he takes over the Army of the Indus – what about that, eh?”
It sounded all right, and I made enthusiastic noises.
“Aye, you’re a lucky dog,” says Crawford, beaming. “How many young blades would give their right leg for the chance of service with him? In the very place for a dashing lancer to win his spurs, bigad!”
A nasty feeling tickled my spine, and I asked where that might be.
“Why, Kabul, of course,” says he. “Where else but Afghanistan?”
The old fool actually thought I must be delighted at this news, and of course I had to pretend to be. I suppose any young officer in India would have jumped at the opportunity, and I did my best to look gratified and eager, but I could have knocked the grinning idiot down, I was so angry. I had thought I was doing so well, what with my sudden introduction to the exalted of the land, and all it had won me was a posting to the hottest, hardest, most dangerous place in the world, to judge by all accounts. There was talk of nothing but Afghanistan in Calcutta at that time, and of the Kabul expedition, and most of it touched on the barbarity of the natives, and the unpleasantness of the country. I could have been sensible, I told myself, and had myself quietly posted to Benares – but no, I had had to angle round Lady Emily, and now looked like getting my throat cut for my pains.
Thinking quickly, I kept my eager smile in place but wondered whether General Elphinstone might not have preferences of his own when it came to choosing an aide; there might be others, I thought, who had a better claim …
Nonsense, says Crawford, he would go bail Elphinstone would be delighted to have a man who could talk the language and handle a lance like a Cossack, and Lady Emily said she was sure he would find a place for me. So there was no way out; I was going to have to take it and pretend that I liked it.
That night I gave Fetnab the soundest thrashing of her pampered life and broke a pot over the sweeper’s head.
I was not even given a decent time to prepare myself. General Elphinstone (or Elphy Bey, as the wags called him) received me next day, and turned out to be an elderly, fussy man with a brown wrinkled face and heavy white whiskers; he was kind enough, in a doddering way, and as unlikely a commander of armies as you could imagine, being nearly sixty, and not too well either.
“It is a great honour to me,” says he, speaking of his new command, “but I wish it had fallen on younger shoulders – indeed, I am sure it should.” He shook his head, and looked gloomy, and I thought, well, here’s a fine one to take the field with.
However, he welcomed me to his staff, damn him, and said it was most opportune; he could use me at once. Since his present aides were used to his service, he would keep them with him just now, to prepare for the journey; he would send me in advance to Kabul – which meant, I supposed, that I was to herald his coming, and see that his quarters were swept out for his arrival. So I had to gather up my establishment, hire camels and mules for their transport, lay in stores for the journey, and generally go to a deal of expense and bother. My servants kept well out of my way in those days, I can tell you, and Fetnab went about