Chapter 3 #2
“We’ve received our orders. We march at daybreak. There are ships awaiting us on the coast to carry us to England.”
“So you would abandon them?” Peter thought of Ana, bruised and bleeding somewhere in the forest, and his stomach heaved in anger.
“This business is bad enough as it is, Ashmore. Leave it where it lies. It is not your decision to make, nor mine, no matter how we may wish things had turned out differently.”
The soldiers eyed each other nervously, and it was as if Peter’s vision finally cleared.
The sacking of the city had not been the fault of overly drunk foot soldiers alone; it had also been the fault of great incompetence in command.
Where had all these leaders been? Clearly not in the throes of it all, fighting against their own, like Peter.
And if they wouldn’t acknowledge the serious indiscipline that occurred, then who would?
“Have you no shame? No sense of decency?” Peter’s voice had risen enough now to alert others. A man stood from where he had been seated at the mapping table. General Sir Thomas Graham.
“I understand that many of you may be concerned for what has occurred here,” he said, speaking to the group. “It is not surprising that such destruction would occur after so many months of French occupation. We’ll let Spain care for their own. I assure you all will be well.”
But how could he say that with such confidence, especially when they were leaving the city in ashes?
“Wellington has been alerted to the . . . repercussions of France’s surrender. Our trusted allies of Basque Country and Spain remain here. Major Bailon will make reparations on the part of the Spanish government.”
“He was killed,” Peter barked, his hands balled against his sides.
General Graham paused, genuine surprise freezing his features. “I am sorry to hear it. He was a great resource for us.”
No mention of Miss Bailon, a fact that only heightened his anger. He clenched his hands to keep from grabbing—or hitting—his superior.
“We have done Spain a great service by forcing the French to surrender this city and its ports,” Graham continued.
“I am sure they will repair any damage made by the French. Rest assured, these people rejoice to be freed from the French, even if they left such great destruction behind. We can aid them by returning to our own soil, allowing them to recover in peace. There is no need to take responsibility for the evils done by the French when we were not involved.”
There was no hope in helping San Sebastián if the colonel in charge of this battle would not admit the faults of his own regiment.
Fury raced through Peter, flaming and insatiable, as he thought of Ana María, nursing her wounds alone and entirely undeserving of the cruelty afforded her.
How many women like her had been subjected to such horrors?
And the children? It made him ill. The only thought that had kept him from losing his composure entirely over the past few days was the knowledge that he’d be able to return to the city, for however briefly it may be, and try to help in whatever way he could.
“You are dismissed,” Graham said curtly, his eyes finding Peter’s. “Return to England and recover. There will likely be a period of respite for all involved. We will write you when we expect you to report for duty again.” His tone left no room for protesting.
Graham was a hurried leader and often wavered, making contradictory decisions, but now there was a certain finality in his words.
Peter made no effort to hide the rage in his gaze, fisting his hand at his side while the others saluted.
He stormed away, but not before he heard muttering voices at his back.
“Ashmore’s position could incriminate us in the worst of ways. Even jeopardize your career, Colonel.”
“He is the least of our worries now. We have the angry Spanish to deal with.”
It was clear that Peter had no place here in San Sebastián.
He had no power to provide comfort, no authority to help the many injured.
Even if he tried, the people of the city would likely reject him.
The reality of that made his head throb even harder.
He had not been able to discipline his men enough to prevent this grave crime, and he had not been able to save their victims. Guilt wrapped about his throat, choking him as he turned his back on San Sebastián.
If only the ocean waves could wash over the city and cleanse it of the great pain that had been caused there.
The only thing he could do now was take Ana María away from this place, if she was willing.
Surely she could not remain in Spain, not when she could possibly be incriminated in the vile misdeeds that had occurred here.
Whether she was framed as a guilty party for her role as an ally translator or forced to be a witness of harm done against her, she would suffer immensely.
Peter simply could not allow it. They too would have to leave for London.
Ana had no one left for her here. She had attested as much in her heaving sobs as they buried the body of her father.
By the next morning, Peter and Ana had reached the border of Basque Country and were staring across the sea toward England as they left a burning, bleeding Spain.
Other soldiers gathered and boarded various ships to return home after the siege for a temporary so-called “period of recuperation.” To Peter, this respite indicated that their leaders, the Marquess of Wellington included, were scrambling to cover the damage their troops had done.
Repercussions, including legal trials, had already started in San Sebastián and other parts of Basque Country, and the British were no longer safe in the area.
Peter decided to travel back to London without his comrades.
Before the siege, the brotherhood of his division had brought him a great sense of strength and comfort.
But now he was glad to be separated from them, both for his sake and for Ana’s.
He would not be able to bear their company at present, not after witnessing what they had done.
And he would not force such a thing upon Ana, when her physical and emotional wounds were so fresh.
It was nothing short of miraculous that she would trust him, when his uniform and his language surely reminded her of her attackers at every turn.
Peter could not say what the future held for either of them. But the only aim in his mind was to provide Ana a place of refuge.