That damned dog must have smelt the French sentries and gave me no warning. Instead of helping out he had just slunk away. I was not even sure if he was still with me. I whispered his name out into the darkness. A few seconds later a familiar shadow flitted alongside. ‘You bastard,’ I hissed at him. ‘I could have been bloody killed. Just because I ran out on you does not mean you can do the same.’ The brown eyes glinted up at me. ‘Do that again and you can bloody well fend for yourself,’ I snarled angrily, but the hound just placidly strolled on alongside my horse. As my anger receded a new sensation took its place: unease. I was right at the forefront of the enemy lines. But it was not just one enemy, in my current uniform I also had the partisans to worry about. While the hillside seemed calm and peaceful in front of me, the hair on the back of my neck had risen, like some kind of primordial warning of trouble ahead. I was not the only once sensing it, the horse’s ears where twitching and now Boney was sniffing the air ahead.
What do You think about Flashman In The Peninsula?
