Words of Command (Hervey 12) (Matthew Hervey) by Allan Mallinson Page A

away to give his orders, while Hervey reined about to give him the privacy to do so in the manner he saw fit, for it was Worsley’s parade not his.
    ‘Did not Marcus Aurelius see himself as the bringer of peace rather than as conqueror?’ asked Fairbrother when they were out of earshot. ‘I’ve never been to Rome, of course, but I’ve read of the statue and seen images of it. He bears no sword, if I recall it rightly. Perhaps it’s more apt than at first seems.’
    Hervey had both seen the statue and listened carefully in his lessons at Shrewsbury. And he did now recall that his friend might be right. ‘We need Agar to tell us definitively, of course, though I suspect Jenkinson could offer an opinion. Indeed, I am rather surprised he didn’t … But you are the most valuable fellow. What error I might fall into without your counsel!’
    ‘I liked the way Jenkinson spoke freely,’ said Fairbrother, tightening his girth strap again in anticipation of a gallop, having eased it while they stood watching. ‘It pays you a compliment – and, of course, Worsley.’
    ‘Just so. By the bye, I’ll be interested to see what post the duke does give the new Liverpool, Jenkinson
père
, for he was conspicuously without one throughout his brother’s time.’
    Fairbrother inclined his head in a knowing way. ‘Ah, the sibling rival, the stock trade of drama – and sibling loyalty too: “Is there no voice more worthy than my own / To sound more sweetly in great Caesar’s ear / For the repealing of my banished brother?”’
    ‘I think that is enough of the Ancients, Fairbrother. Let us get ourselves across the bourne yonder and then give these horses their head up Snow Hill.’
    Fairbrother gave him a somewhat rueful look. ‘A hill aptly called. A gallop on snow will be entirely novel to me. I may well be down the other side faster than the grand old Duke of York.’

IV
AN EYE LIKE MARS

Later
    The chimneys of Windsor in winter, and all about, were at their labours. In the still, cold air the smoke rose but a few feet before spreading edgewise, joining with that of adjacent chimneys in a great, grey canopy. But one column rose higher – far higher; bigger too, and darker.
    From the top of Snow Hill they could see for miles.
    ‘Something well alight to the west,’ said Hervey, pulling off a glove to get his telescope from its holster.
    Worsley was doing the same. ‘Towards Winkfield, I reckon,’ he replied, getting the glass to his eye; ‘and flames, distinctly.’
    ‘Well, no smoke without the proverbial fire, but what’s the cause of it? And a prodigious blaze, by the look of it. I think it worth your inquiry.’
    ‘I was about to ask leave to explore, Colonel. Innocent or not they’ll have need of hands to extinguish it. I’ll save the pivot drill for another day and take the troop whole, for it’s on route back to Maidenhead. They’ll enjoy the gallop.’
    ‘Go to it, then,’ said Hervey, lowering his ’scope. ‘And write me word of what you find. And my compliments on your field day. Dine with me when you’re returned.’
    ‘Very good, Colonel.’
    Worsley saluted, visibly encouraged, then, reining round, set off down the slope at a bold pace.
    Words of praise; words of encouragement, and an invitation to hospitality – words of command. Hervey was ever mindful of those his own captain had spoken when first he had joined: some officers need driving, most need encouraging, very few need restraining. Words in command were mightier than the sword.
    Fairbrother smiled to himself. ‘“An eye like Mars to threaten and command, / A station like the herald Mercury / New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill”.’
    Hervey turned. ‘What is that you say? Speak plainly, for my ears are as numb as my toes.’
    Fairbrother shook his head. ‘I was merely recalling something I read.’
    Hervey frowned; his friend could be extraordinarily arch. He turned instead to the adjutant. ‘Well, Malet, what think you now: