Behind the Walls by Nicola Pierce Page B

what lay beyond the city he had grown up in. He dreamt of sailing the sea and seeing London. William Cairnes’s uncle had told him about the endless streets, the fancy buildings, the pretty girls and the sheer wealth of the aristocracy.
    A plan was forming in his head. He believed that a soldier’s life would give him all that he wanted: travel, a nice wife and untold riches. The possibilities were endless. Why, he might join King William’s army and make his mark in some exotic land he had yet to hear about. The world was finally opening up to him.
    But, first things first .
    He must help to hold Derry for his king and if that meant seeing nothing but these worn, well-familiar streets for another few months, well, so be it.
    Once the threats and proposed punishments for this and that were read out, the speaker moved on to the good news; that is, the rations that would be made available to every soldier in the garrison. As of yet, there was no actual money to pay the men, but this was a temporary situation that would surely be rectified by King William and the parliament in London.
    In the meantime, the speaker read: ‘Each soldier shall receive a weekly ration of eight quarts of meal, four pounds of meat and three pounds of meal. A daily measure of beer will also be provided.’
    The men cheered their gratitude.
    Lieutenant-Colonel Robert Lundy studied the faces of the men. How defiant they seem. Not one of them shows any uncertainty.
    Their belief was solid, God was on their side and therefore Derry would be saved.
    Lundy searched the sky above for a sign that they were right. After all, the Jacobites had their God too – the same God, by all accounts. Would He choose between the two kings of England, William and James?
    Oh, why can’t I just believe like they do? Lundy hoped, however vaguely, that Lord Mountjoy would return from Dublin, but he had had no word on how his commander had fared at the hands of an enraged Richard Talbot. Blast that man! Why doesn’t he come up here and see how things stand for himself?
    A raven landed on the roof of the building in front of him. Robert Lundy stared at the bird who seemed to be listening to the goings-on. Birds were believed to be messengers, so was this his sign? What was the other thing he had heard about ravens? Where had he read it, about them meaning war?
    He shivered. What exactly was it that bothered him? He took in the city around him, or at least the part he could see from where he stood. Most of the men in front of him were inexperienced. They were soldiers who had yet to fight a single battle. There weren’t nearly enough weapons and, if it came down to it, Derry was on a path of no return. Should the city dig in her heels and attempt to out-wait the Jacobites the lieutenant-colonel knew there wasn’t enough food. The population was far too big. Every soldier standing here, who was braced to fight, was local and so had parents, siblings, grandparents or children that would need to be fed. God help us all!
    It had been his idea to dismantle the old houses near the walls. They took up valuable space that would be needed by a fighting army.
    Of course, he had sensed his unpopularity growing day by day and had a brief, grim thought about the new gallows. I hope I don’t end up swinging from them. He sighed to himself. I’ll do my best for this city but it might not be good enough .
    As he stood there watching the enthusiastic crowd, he was unaware that he was the focus of someone else’s attention, someone who already believed that the governor was not good enough for the job in hand.
    A recent addition to the city, Reverend George Walker had made his way to Derry after Lundy ordered thebreak-up of the garrison at Dungannon. He was an Anglican reverend first and a soldier second: I’m a soldier of the Lord whether I am at the pulpit or on the battlefield . And so he was. A couple of short months ago, when he was rector at Donoughmore in Armagh, he heard about