Once a Soldier (Rogues Redeemed) Read Online Free

through San Gabriel, looting and destroying. He also captured the ruler, King Carlos, and his son, Alexandre, the hereditary prince, when they rode out to parley under a flag of truce. Baudin appointed a senile old uncle, Prince Alfonso, as regent for the young Princess Maria Sofia, who managed to escape.”
    “Has the country collapsed into chaos or banditry with the rulers gone?”
    “I really don’t know,” Duval said. “There has been very little news out of San Gabriel. My guess is that the country has serious problems. As British allies, they deserve our aid in rebuilding. I hope you’re willing to lead the Gabrileño cavalry back and spend a week or two evaluating the situation.”
    “Aren’t the king and his son on the way home? Surely, French political prisoners are being released.”
    “We don’t know what happened to them,” Duval said, his expression grim. “I fear they’re dead, but I intend to learn the truth. In the meantime, San Gabriel has no effective leadership. Now that the war is over and the Spanish guerillas haven’t got the French to fight, I’m worried that a band of them might take over. The Alcantara residence, Castelo Blanco, is a formidable medieval fortress. If a gang of marauders move in, they’ll be very hard to dislodge.”
    All true. Will hesitated. With the war over, he yearned to return home as quickly as possible. Accepting Duval’s mission would delay him for weeks, perhaps months.
    But he’d never forgotten the question of redemption that had arisen during that long, tense night in Porto. Taking on this task wasn’t redemption, but it would be a service he was well qualified for. And though he’d prefer a speedy ship home, the long ride across Spain and Portugal would be a way of saying good-bye to his army life. He’d also be able to visit his friend Justin Ballard before leaving the Peninsula, possibly forever. “Very well, if the Gabrileño commander approves, I’ll lead his men home.”
    * * *
    Colonel da Silva was a wiry man with silver streaks in his dark hair and bandages on his right arm and leg. He was sitting in a camp chair in his tent and looked as if even that was too much effort, but his eyes sharpened when Duval introduced Will. “Major Masterson. Colonel Duval said you might be willing and suitable to lead my caballeros home.” He spoke in fluent but accented English.
    “That is for you to judge, sir,” Will said in Spanish. “How many men, and will they resent a British officer?”
    “Your Spanish is good,” da Silva said approvingly. “Duval said you speak Portuguese as well, and that you know how to fight. Those abilities ensure acceptance. There are only two dozen men fit to ride. The wounded will stay here until their injuries heal well enough for them to go home.” A shadow crossed his face. “Many of my men have been lost over the years. More would be alive if news of the emperor’s abdication had reached Toulouse before the battle for the city.”
    “God willing, there will be no more such unnecessary battles,” Will said quietly.
    Da Silva crossed himself with his left hand. But years as a soldier taught men not to brood over what couldn’t be changed, so he continued, “None of my surviving cavalry officers are fit to ride home, so the men are under command of the senior sergeant, Gilberto Oliviera. He understands the need to maintain good order on the journey across Spain. His father is the chamberlain at the Castelo Blanco, so Sergeant Oliviera knows the royal household well.”
    “How is San Gabriel faring without King Carlos?”
    Da Silva hesitated. “Not long after Baudin ravaged my country, a courier brought a message from Prince Alfonso. He said there was much destruction of property, but most of the people had survived and he would stand watch over San Gabriel until by the grace of God, King Carlos returned safely home to his people.”
    “That sounds promising.”
    “I doubt the letter was written by Prince