Until the next order did not come.
“They’re retreating!” shouted the soldier next to him.
A new noise exploded. The sound of two thousand riflemen celebrating with shouts and laughter. William felt himself being roughly embraced by many hands.
As if his body had been kept upright by force of will alone, William now sank to the ground.
“Bring a horse!” Larson commanded. “Even a French one will do.”
William sensed himself being lifted. He gripped the saddle as soon as his fingers recognized it. Then the bulk of another body climbed up in front of him.
“Can you steer with that shoulder, soldier?” Larson asked. “We don’t want the animal taking you behind enemy lines.”
“I’ll manage, sir,” said the nameless man on the horse with William.
“Get going, then. Have them send wagons for the more gravely injured men. Tell them it is safe to do so now.”
“Yes, sir. God save the king, sir!”
There was a pause. Then the captain replied solemnly, “God save us all.”
For William, the world went black.
