Page 267 of The Armor of Light
‘From what I hear, it was a close-fought contest.’
Henry shook his head. ‘At moments, perhaps, but in my mind there was never any doubt about the final result.’
This was not what Amos had heard. ‘Blücher seems to have arrived in the nick of time.’
For a moment Henry was nonplussed. ‘Blücher?’ he said. ‘Who’s Blücher?’
‘The commander of the Prussian army in the Netherlands.’
‘Oh! Yes, yes, of course, Blücher. But it was Wellington who won it, you know.’
Amos was puzzled. Warfare had always been the one thing that interested the earl, and he knew a lot about it. But he was conducting this conversation in platitudes, like an ignoramus in a tavern. Amos changed the subject. ‘For myself, I’m glad to be back in England and Kingsbridge. How is Hal?’
Henry answered: ‘He’ll start at the local grammar school next year.’
Jane made a face. ‘I don’t see why he can’t just have a tutor, as you did, Henry, when you were a boy.’
Henry disagreed. ‘A lad needs to spend time with other boys, learn how to rub along with all sorts, as you do in the army. We don’t want to raise the kind of officer who doesn’t know how to talk to the men.’
Amos was momentarily taken aback by the assumption that Hal – his son – would become a soldier; then he remembered that one day Hal would have all the duties of the earl, including becoming colonel of the 107th (Kingsbridge) Foot Regiment.
Jane sighed. ‘Whatever you think best, of course, Henry.’ Amos was sure she did not mean that. The argument would resurface.
Hal came in. He was now ten, so it was almost time for him to go to school.
Henry glanced at Hal, frowned, then looked away, almost as if he had not recognized the boy. Then Jane said brightly: ‘Here’s Hal to have tea with us, Henry. Isn’t our son growing fast?’
Henry looked momentarily startled, then said: ‘Hal, yes, come in, my lad, and have some cake.’
That was a strange interaction. It seemed to Amos that Henry had not known who Hal was until Jane had spoken. And he had forgotten Blücher, the third most important man at Waterloo after Wellington and Bonaparte. Perhaps that fragment of a gun carriage flying through the air had done more than scratch Henry’s scalp. He was behaving like a man with brain damage.
Hal ate three slices of cake – just as he had in Brussels – then drank his tea and left. The earl followed soon after. Amos looked at Jane, and she said: ‘So now you know.’
Amos nodded. ‘How bad is it?’
‘He’s a different man. Much of the time he gets along all right.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Then he’ll say something, and you think: Oh, Lord, he has no idea what is going on.’
‘That’s very sad.’
‘He’s completely incapable of organizing the regiment, and he leaves all the decisions to Joe Hornbeam, who’s supposed to be his aide but is a major now.’
Amos did not care about Henry, but was concerned for his son. ‘Does Hal understand that the earl is...?’
‘Of unsound mind? Not really.’
‘What have you told him?’
‘That his father is still confused on account of the wound, and we’re sure he’ll get better soon. The truth is I don’t think he will ever recover. But it’s better for Hal to realize that gradually.’
‘I’m very sorry to hear this – for the earl’s sake, and yours, but most of all for Hal’s.’
‘Well, there’s something you could do to help.’
Amos guessed this was why he had been asked to tea. ‘Gladly,’ he said.
‘Be a kind of mentor to Hal.’
Amos perked up. He would love an excuse to spend more time with Hal.
