“Yes my lord.” replied General Musgrove, a grin on one side of his face as he surveyed the relentless march of enemy troops swarming the land.
“I’m very glad that you supported this idea of mine” Davenport-Whit continued as the General rolled his eyes. “Yes, we’ll have them Musgrove.”
The wind howled across the blasted plains, pennants cracked like whips. The horses whinnied and snorted, shaking their manes and pawing at the ground, nostrils flared.
“I say Musgrove, is there something that you want to say to me?” enquired Davenport-Whit, frowning and tugging at the reins of his errant steed.
“About the impending massacre my Lord?”
“Well, yes, erm…no Musgrove, the other matter.”
“Oh don’t play coy with me man! Y’know damned fine what I’m talking about – Colonel Vanderbilt’s cousin, Lady Fitzcharles!”
“Lady Fitzcharles my Lord?”
“Yes! You don’t approve of her; you think that she’s an enemy spy. Well I think she’s a fine filly, jolly decent sort, so there.”
“Quite so my Lord.”
“Thoroughly reliable, loyal to her fellows.”
“Indeed my Lord, in fact I took this into consideration when I told her that we would ride here.”
“Musgrove! Did you really?”
“Yes my Lord” General Musgrove replied as his horse turned to face the mountains which loomed behind them. He held a small mirror aloft, causing it to glint in the evening light. Then he brought his arm down, swiftly.
Thousands of arrows fell upon the enemy and their horses as they charged screaming into stakes part-hidden in the ground.
“I say Musgrove, you’ve done it again!” as the company of nine galloped into the foothills. “Jolly good show!”
Inspired by the ‘Jeeves & Wooster’ stories by P.G. Wodehouse.