Fire and Sword (10 page)

‘That’s dreadful!’ exclaimed Valeran.

‘It’s more than that, Raoul,’ said Vendôme, angrily. ‘It’s utterly barbaric. I want the culprits identified and brought to me. If they’re so fond of flames, I’ll have them cooked over a slow fire.’

‘The raid was a long way away from here.’

‘That makes no difference. It occurred on territory we hold and which we should therefore safeguard.’

He dismissed the messenger with a flick of the hand and the man left the tent. Taking another bite out of the chicken, Vendôme brooded, ignoring the gravy that dripped onto his lapel. Valeran passed the report back to him.

‘What are you going to do, Your Grace?’

‘I’ll make every effort to find them as quickly as possible. And I’ll need someone to return to that village.’

‘Why?’

‘They have to be pacified and recompensed,’ said Vendôme. ‘No soldiers under my command should ever behave this way. When foraging is required, it’s sometimes necessary to use a little force but there’s never any call for a massacre like this.’

‘The whole farm was razed to the ground.’

‘Speak to the four men who used to work there.’

Valeran was taken aback. ‘You want
me
to go there?’

‘It’s a sign of how much trust I put in you,’ said Vendôme, swilling down his food with some wine. ‘Find out more details of what went on and assure those four men that we’ll make some kind of restitution. We can’t afford to rebuild the whole farm, of course, but a gesture on our part will show them how seriously we take this whole business. Leave with a patrol first thing tomorrow morning.’

‘Yes, Your Grace,’ said Valeran without enthusiasm.

‘But be sure to hurry back – I’ll miss you.’

The captain rallied immediately.

‘What’s his name, Henry?’ asked Daniel.

‘Ralph Higgins.’

‘And who is he?’

‘One of the sutlers,’ said Welbeck. ‘At least, that’s what he claims to be. I think he’s here for another reason altogether.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘It concerns you, Dan.’

When he received the note from his friend, Daniel had hurried across to the area of the camp occupied by the 24
^th
Foot. Knowing that he would not be summoned on a trivial matter, he met Welbeck outside the sergeant’s tent. Daniel was curious.

‘What’s the fellow doing among the 24
^th
?’

‘Pretending to sell provisions to the men,’ said Welbeck. ‘He sought me out because someone told him that I was a close friend of a certain Captain Rawson.’

‘Go on.’

‘Higgins was very plausible. He gave me some free tobacco to make me well disposed towards him. He’s an affable devil, I’ll give him that, and I was happy to chat with him for a while. Then he started to ask questions about you, Dan, far too many questions. That’s what aroused my suspicions. I think he’s a French spy.’

‘Where is he now?’

‘He’s being held inside.’

‘Then I’ll go in and introduce myself,’ said Daniel.

Crossing to the tent, Daniel pulled back the flap and
stepped inside. Welbeck followed him. Ralph Higgins was seated on a stool with an armed soldier beside him. Higgins leapt to his feet at once. He was a tall, well-built man in his thirties with curly brown hair above a swarthy face that wore an expression of mingled surprise and pain. ‘Could someone tell me what’s going on?’ he begged.

‘That’s exactly what we want to ask you,’ said Welbeck.

Higgins spread his arms. ‘I’m a sutler. I follow the army and sell to the soldiers. It’s how I make my living.’

‘Then why did you show such an interest in me?’ asked Daniel. ‘According to Sergeant Welbeck, you peppered him with questions about me. Are you intending to write a biography?’

‘Are
you
the famous Captain Rawson?’ asked Higgins, beaming. ‘It’s an honour to meet you, sir,’ he went on, offering his hand and giving Daniel a warm handshake. ‘You’re something of a legend in the 24
^th
, I hear.’

‘And from whom did you hear that?’

‘From just about everyone I’ve spoken to. The first person to mention your name was Lieutenant Ainley.’ The sutler laughed. ‘If ever you
do
want a biographer, sir, he’s the man for you. It was the lieutenant who told me that Sergeant Welbeck was your good friend.’

‘That’s right,’ said Welbeck, gruffly. ‘I was put on this earth to make sure that no harm comes to Captain Rawson. If I sense any danger – and you reek of it – then I become very suspicious.’

‘I don’t blame you,’ said Higgins, amiably. ‘In fact, I was very much counting on it.’

Welbeck blinked. ‘Were you?’

‘How else could I get to meet Captain Rawson? Now that he’s a member of the Duke’s personal staff, he’s out of reach of humble folk like me. The only way to approach him was through you.’

Welbeck was indignant. ‘Are you saying that I was
used
?’

‘I meant no harm by it, Sergeant.’

‘And why should you want to meet me?’ asked Daniel.

‘First of all, I wanted to see if you were human.’

‘Oh, I’m very human, Mr Higgins, and I’m full of human failings. For instance, I’m very short-tempered when I find that someone is trying to waste my time.’

‘Forgive me,’ said Higgins with a placatory gesture, ‘I don’t mean to take up your time. I wanted to put a proposition to you, Captain Rawson. The truth of it is that I’m not only a sutler,’ he went on, slipping a hand into his pocket to take out a sheet of paper. ‘I’m something of an artist, as you can see.’

Unfolding the paper, he showed them a portrait he’d drawn. It was only a pencil sketch but it had discernible talent. They were both able to recognise the face smiling up at them.

‘That’s Lieutenant Ainley,’ said Welbeck.

‘It’s a good likeness,’ admitted Daniel.

‘This is only a preliminary drawing,’ explained Higgins.
‘I’ll use it to do a portrait in colour. I’m not a real artist like van Dyck, mark you. A sketch like this only takes me five minutes and I have the painting finished in little more than an hour.’

‘Why are you telling me this, Mr Higgins?’

‘I’m coming to that.’ He glanced at the soldier beside him. ‘Is there any chance that you can get rid of my guard? He intimidates me. I’m not going to run away.’ Welbeck gave a nod and the soldier left the tent. ‘Thank you, Sergeant. Having him stand over me was rather unnerving.’ He smiled hopefully at Daniel. ‘I wondered if I could possibly have the honour of painting a portrait of you, Captain Rawson?’

‘I can’t think why you’d want to do that,’ said Daniel.

‘Then you haven’t heard Lieutenant Ainley in full flow. He idolises you. He was telling me what you did at Blenheim and how you rescued someone from the Bastille in Paris.’

‘I shouldn’t believe everything he says.’

‘Are you interested in my offer?’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Higgins. I must decline. I’m not vain enough to want my portrait painted.’

‘In the time we’ve been talking, I could have done the sketch.’

‘Not without my permission,’ said Daniel, ‘and I’d never give that. It’s a tempting notion but I suggest that you choose someone else. If you can produce these things so swiftly, you must have had a lot of customers.’

‘Oh, I have,’ said Higgins, ruefully. ‘Some of the
ugliest men in the army have wanted a pretty painting of themselves. I have to show them what they want to see so I make hideous, old faces look young and handsome. Then, of course,’ he added, dropping his voice and rolling his eyes. ‘There are the other drawings.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Welbeck.

‘You know what soldiers are like, Sergeant. Most of them dream of nothing but drink and women. I sell them both. The beer is in the back of my wagon and the women are on sheets of paper like this.’

‘You’re talking about
naked
women, aren’t you?’

‘I have to meet a demand.’ His eyes flicked to Daniel. ‘Do you think that you could persuade the captain to sit for me? I won’t charge him a penny for the portrait. It will be a pleasure to paint.’

‘Captain Rawson makes his own decisions.’

‘And you’ve already heard what I think,’ said Daniel, pleasantly.

‘Well, he hasn’t heard what
I
think,’ warned Welbeck, squaring up to Higgins. ‘I think you have a nerve, coming here like this and using me as bait. It’s unforgivable. If I catch you anywhere near the 24
^th
again, I’ll kick seven barrels of shit out of you and shove your bleeding sketches down your lying throat. Do you understand?’

‘I apologise profusely, Sergeant,’ said Higgins, composing his features into a mask of contrition. ‘By way of recompense, I’ll happily do a portrait of you as well.’

‘No, you won’t, you cheating, two-faced scoundrel!’

‘Don’t yell at him, Sergeant,’ said Daniel, reproachfully. ‘Mr Higgins came here in good faith and he had a reasonable proposal to put to me.’

‘Only after he tricked me into getting you here,’ said Welbeck.

‘That’s as may be. No real hurt was intended.’

‘Yes, it was – my pride has been wounded.’

‘I had no alternative,’ argued Higgins.

‘In that case,’ returned Welbeck, holding up a fist, ‘I’ll have no alternative but to punch the living daylights out of you.’

‘There’s no need for that,’ said Daniel, stepping between them to protect the sutler. ‘I’m certain that Mr Higgins won’t rely on a device like this again. I suggest that we let him get back to his wagon.’

Higgins was relieved. ‘Thank you, Captain,’ he said. ‘Can’t I make you reconsider my offer?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

‘Would you like to hear my offer again?’ shouted Welbeck, waving a fist in his face. ‘Now, get out before I throw you out.’

Still muttering apologies, Higgins retreated from the tent. Welbeck was livid. He was about to speak when Daniel silenced him with a wave. He peeped out through the gap between the tent flaps.

‘He’s gone,’ noted Daniel. ‘I thought he’d stay to eavesdrop.’

‘You should have let me teach him a lesson.’

‘That will come later, Henry.’

‘I hate being deceived like that.’

‘You should be grateful to Ralph Higgins.’

‘Why…for wasting our time like that? Using me like that makes me seethe. Left to myself, I’d have tipped him headfirst into the deepest latrine.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry I dragged you over here for no reason, Dan. I was wrong about the man.’

‘But you weren’t – he’s a spy.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I have done a little spying myself, you know,’ said Daniel, smiling, ‘and I know that the first thing you need is a glib tongue. Higgins certainly had that. In offering to do a portrait of me, he gave himself away.’

‘Did he?’

‘Who do you imagine would have got that portrait?’

‘I thought he’d do it for you, Dan?’

‘I might have been given the painted version but the original sketch would have been sent off to the enemy. Somebody has designs on me, Henry, and they need to know what I look like.’

Welbeck was lost. ‘If you think he’s a spy, why let him go?’

‘I wanted to test my theory,’ said Daniel. ‘Find six men and we’ll guard the road out of here. When Higgins drives his wagon towards us, we’ll stop him and take him into custody.’

‘How do you know that that’s what he’ll do?’

‘Because,’ said Daniel with a soft chuckle, ‘it’s exactly what I’d do in his shoes.’

Seated in his wagon, Ralph Higgins worked swiftly. After drawing the sketch of Daniel Rawson from memory, he put it on top of the letter he’d just written and folded the two pages tightly until he could insert them into a pouch of tobacco. He then jumped down from the wagon. A soldier who’d been watching strolled casually over to him.

‘Ah, good afternoon, Corporal,’ greeted Higgins.

‘I’ve come for my tobacco,’ said the man.

‘It’s all ready for you.’ Handing him the pouch, Higgins spoke in an undertone. ‘Have this delivered at once. It’s important.’ He took some money from his customer. ‘Thank you, Corporal. It’s always a pleasure to do business with you.’

As soon as the soldier had gone, Higgins clambered up onto the seat of his wagon and picked up the reins. Feeling the flick of leather, the horse responded by pulling the vehicle away. It went past the other sutlers and the baggage wagons until it came to the road out of the camp. Nobody challenged him. Higgins was free. He allowed himself a congratulatory smirk. It soon froze on his face. Six armed soldiers suddenly emerged from the trees to block his way, muskets trained on him. Henry Welbeck was with them.

‘Stop there or we’ll shoot the horse dead,’ he called out.

Higgins was perplexed. ‘What’s the meaning of this,
Sergeant?’ he asked, innocently. ‘Have I done something wrong?’

‘Yes, you have,’ said Daniel, coming into view from behind a large bush. ‘You made a fatal mistake. There’s something I require from you, Mr Higgins,’ he added. ‘Hand it over, please.’

‘Hand what over, Captain?’

‘The codebook you use to send reports to your masters in the French camp.’

‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Higgins tried to bluff his way out of the situation but he soon realised that it was futile. He’d been found out. As a last resort, he reached inside the wagon for the pistol he kept hidden there. Welbeck gave him no time to use it. Jumping forward, he grabbed the sutler by the leg and yanked him off the seat. As Higgins hit the ground, he groaned in agony and the weapon was discharged harmlessly into the air. Daniel went and stood over him.

‘Now, then,’ he said, politely. ‘Will you tell me where your codebook is or must I ask Sergeant Welbeck to jog your memory?’

Ralph Higgins quailed. He was trapped.
 

Amalia Janssen sat in the parlour and read through the letters in chronological order. It was the one sure antidote to her sadness. Whenever she pined for Daniel Rawson, she took out the correspondence he’d sent over the years and undid the pink ribbon around it. There were few letters and they contained very little about what he was doing and where he actually was at any given time. That didn’t concern her. Amalia understood the need for caution. In case the letters fell into the wrong hands, Daniel ensured that he gave away no information whatsoever of military value. The missives were therefore essentially personal. Short and hastily written, they brought immense comfort to her because they were steeped in so much affection. Daniel’s
words made her feel that he was sitting there beside her.

When her father came into the room, he could see at a glance what she was doing. He placed a paternal kiss on her head.

‘Are you reading those letters
again
, Amalia?’ he said.

She put them in her lap. ‘Yes, Father.’

‘You must know every word by heart now.’

‘I like to see Daniel’s hand,’ she said. ‘His writing is so neat.’

‘Then it’s at variance with his character,’ opined Emanuel Janssen. ‘Captain Rawson is such a brave, adventurous man that you’d expect his calligraphy to be much larger and bolder.’ He sat down opposite her. ‘When did the last letter come?’

‘A fortnight ago – but it seems like a year.’

‘Time hangs heavy when a beloved is absent. Console yourself with the fact that it must be the same for him, Amalia.’

‘I doubt it,’ she said, resignedly. ‘Daniel has so many responsibilities that there’s not much time to think about me. I’m not complaining about that,’ she added. ‘I’d hate to be a distraction.’

‘My guess is that Captain Rawson needs a distraction now and then. He’s told us often enough that this war consists largely of watching and waiting until the French make up their minds what they’re going to do. No,’ he said, ‘I fancy that you’re in his thoughts very often.’

‘I hope so.’ She put the letters aside. ‘Have you finished work for the day?’

‘I had to, Amalia. I had that pain in my fingers again.’

She was alarmed. ‘You ought to consult the doctor.’

‘He’ll only tell me what’s becoming more and more obvious. I’m getting old. It’s as simple as that.’

‘How bad is the pain?’

‘I had a sharp twinge now and again, that’s all. I could have carried on but I felt that it was more sensible to hand over to Kees. His fingers are younger and more nimble than mine.’

‘But he doesn’t have your experience.’

‘That will come.’

‘How much work is left on the tapestry?’

‘A fortnight, at most, I’d say.’ He saw the concern etched in her face. ‘It’s nothing to worry about, Amalia. It just means that I won’t be able to work for such long periods. Hand-sewing requires such care and stamina. Eyes get tired. Fingers are bound to hurt.’

‘Yet you’ve never had pain in the past, Father.’

He smiled. ‘You mean that I’ve never told you about it before.’

‘Has this been happening for a long time?’ she asked, anxiously.

‘No, it hasn’t. At the end of a long day, my hands have often been sore but that’s to be expected. One must suffer for one’s art.’

‘I was thinking about the Duke of Marlborough’s tapestry.’

‘What about it?’

‘Well,’ she said, fretfully, ‘it would be a tragedy if your hands got so bad that you weren’t able to complete it. I mean, it will be such an honour for you to have your work hanging in Blenheim Palace.’

‘Have no fears,’ he assured her. ‘My fingers have lost nothing of their skill. They’re not about to drop off yet, Amalia. Work on the battle of Ramillies will start again as soon as we’ve finished this tapestry. It’s a much bigger project, of course, so I’ll have to take on more assistants. We’ll all work side by side on different looms. It may be a long time before it can go to England to take its rightful place at Blenheim Palace but at least it will be ready.’

Amalia was relieved. ‘I’m so pleased to hear that.’

‘I’ll be producing tapestries for years yet. One of them, I trust, will commemorate the Duke’s next triumph.’

‘Where will that be?’

‘I was counting on you to tell me that,’ he teased. ‘I hoped that Captain Rawson might have given us forewarning in his last letter.’

‘He never mentions things like that.’

‘One thing is certain, anyhow.’

‘What’s that, Father?’

‘Wherever the next battle does take place, we can be sure that the captain will be in the thick of it.’

‘Well done, Daniel,’ said Marlborough, cheerily. ‘It’s yet another feather in your cap.’

‘Thank you, Your Grace,’ replied Daniel, ‘but the person who deserves the praise is Sergeant Welbeck of the 24
^th
. It was he who first suspected the fellow.’

‘I’ll make a point of writing to thank him.’

It was no idle promise. Marlborough was always ready to give credit where it was due. Daniel was part of the entourage that was following him on his tour through the camp on a beautiful June day. Corporal John had fought under commanders who were aloof and detached. One or two of them had openly despised the ranks, viewing them as no more than cannon fodder. Marlborough, by contrast, respected the most humble members of his army and let them see him in person from time to time. The sight of their captain general, striding through the camp in his finery, was always uplifting.

‘Where’s this sutler now?’ asked Marlborough.

‘He’s still in custody, Your Grace.’

‘Has he been interrogated?’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Daniel with a grin. ‘Ralph Higgins was thoroughly examined. I invited Sergeant Welbeck to take part in the exercise. He has a rare talent for loosening a man’s tongue.’

‘What did you learn?’

‘For a start, we know the cipher that he’s been using.’

‘Excellent!’

And we’ve also identified his accomplice – a corporal in the Royal Scots Fusiliers. Higgins refused to give us the man’s name at first but Sergeant Welbeck eventually drew it out of him. What we don’t yet know is the name of the go-between.’

‘The go-between?’ echoed Marlborough.

‘There were three of them involved. Higgins gathered the intelligence and gave it to the corporal. He in turn passed it on to someone who delivered it to the enemy. Corporal Rennie proved to be a harder man to crack,’ said Daniel. ‘He admitted nothing.’

‘Couldn’t you get the name of this third man from Higgins?’

‘He swears that he doesn’t know it and I believe him.’

‘Keep interrogating him.’

‘We will, Your Grace.’

Marlborough broke off to exchange a few words with some officers he encountered. When he moved on, he waved to a group of privates who were unloading a wagon. Daniel noticed how pleased they were to be acknowledged. The tour continued.

‘You and Sergeant Welbeck are to be congratulated, Daniel,’ said Marlborough. ‘You caught this man
red-handed
, so to speak.’

‘It takes a spy to recognise a spy.’

‘Why did you suspect him?’

‘He tried to be too clever,’ recalled Daniel. ‘To convince us that he was genuine, he told us far more than he needed.
I’ve learnt to keep explanations to a minimum. Higgins talked too much. The only way to be certain, of course, was to give him the chance to escape. That would be an obvious confession of guilt. So we prepared a little welcome for him.’

‘How long has he been with us?’

‘Since the start of the campaign, Your Grace.’

Marlborough pondered. ‘I suppose that a sutler would be in a position to hear all the gossip in the camp,’ he said at length. ‘Soldiers are off guard when they’re buying things from the back of a wagon.’

‘Don’t forget his sketches,’ said Daniel. ‘They were a means of wheedling himself into the company of officers. He’d flatter them by offering to paint their portraits then draw what information he could from them. He was an artist of no mean talent.’

‘He should have put it to better use.’

‘Higgins felt that it
was
put to good use, Your Grace. When he questioned him, he confessed that his father was English and had died when his son was just a boy. He was brought up by his mother, who was French by birth. That’s where his allegiances lay.’

‘Not any more,’ said Marlborough. ‘He’s finished.’

‘And so is Corporal Rennie. He comes from a proud regiment. They were appalled to discover that they had a traitor in their midst. However,’ Daniel said, ‘Higgins was the real danger. He was a spy. Rennie simply handed on reports to a courier.’

‘We must find out who that courier was.’

Marlborough paused again to pass a few remarks to a sergeant major. There was no sense of condescension. He talked to the man as if they were on an equal footing and the sergeant major appreciated that. After a few minutes, they were on the move again.

‘I’m surprised that I was not on Higgins’ list,’ said Marlborough.

‘What list is that?’

‘Well, the obvious way to get the most reliable intelligence was to try to inveigle me into providing it. To manage that, he’d have had to do a sketch of me.’

‘That would have been unnecessary,’ said Daniel.

‘Why?’

‘Every soldier in Europe would recognise you, Your Grace. It was different in my case. He was desperate for a portrait of me.’

‘You’re a handsome fellow, Daniel. Any artist would enjoy painting a picture of you.’

‘Higgins wouldn’t have done it for his own benefit,’ said Daniel. ‘I think the portrait had been commissioned. Somebody is very keen to know exactly what I look like.’

‘So
this
is the intrepid Captain Rawson, is it?’ said Vendôme, studying the rough sketch. ‘He’s just as I imagined him to be.’

‘This note came as well,’ said the messenger, offering the paper. ‘It’s been deciphered.’

‘Thank you.’

Snatching it from him, Vendôme read it. As he did so, his eyes bulged and his mouth fell open. He was patently startled. He looked at the sketch again with renewed interest. Before he could make any comment, however, the flap of the tent was held open by a guard so that the duc de Burgundy could sail in. Greeting the newcomer with a bow, the messenger scurried out. Burgundy took up a pose.

‘I’m glad that I find you standing up for once,’ he said.

‘I think best when seated on my
chaise-percée,
’ Vendôme told him. ‘Contemplation helps the bowels to function.’

‘I’ll take your word for it, my lord Duke. As it happens, that’s not something I came here to discuss.’

‘Have you heard from Versailles?’

‘Word has just arrived from His Majesty.’

‘Go on,’ pressed Vendôme. ‘What does he say?’

‘He concedes that there’s some degree of merit in your plan,’ said Burgundy, pursing his lips in distaste. ‘Grandfather can see the value of laying siege to Huy.’

‘I knew he would! He thinks like a soldier.’

‘I, however, remain opposed to the notion.’

‘That’s immaterial. The King’s word is final.’

‘I haven’t finished yet.’

‘Even though you were against it, I gave orders for preparations to be made for a siege. I felt certain that common sense would prevail in the end. You’ve been overruled by your grandfather.’

‘Not exactly,’ rejoined Burgundy. ‘I questioned the order and it’s been placed in abeyance.’

Vendôme exploded. ‘Placed in abeyance?’

‘News has arrived of Prince Eugene. He’s gathering his forces at Coblenz. Until his purposes are definitely revealed, you must suspend preparations against Huy.’

‘But the plan has royal approval.’

‘It’s been withdrawn,’ said Burgundy, enjoying Vendôme’s discomfiture. ‘In time, His Majesty will come to accept the wisdom of my strategy.’

‘We should move against Huy
now
,’ maintained Vendôme.

‘Stand your men down.’

‘Will you consign us to another month of inactivity?’

‘We’re not inactive,’ replied Burgundy. ‘We gather intelligence, we anticipate the enemy’s movements, we respond accordingly. In the end, our superior tactics will be vindicated.’

‘What tactics? We have none worthy of the name!’

‘There’s no need for insults, my lord Duke.’

‘Huy is at our mercy,’ said Vendôme with passion. ‘Seize that and we have control of that stretch of the River Meuse.’

‘And what if Eugene is coming north? We’d be squeezed between his army and that of Marlborough’s like a piece of cheese between two slices of bread.’ Burgundy was adamant. ‘Forget all thought of Huy.’

‘Marlborough may be a threat but what kind of army
can Eugene raise? Not a very large one, in my estimation. Besides, we’ve no indication that he’s heading this way. All the signs are that he’ll stay in the Moselle Valley. It’s the kind of ruse Marlborough always employs in an attempt to divert us.’

Burgundy was unmoved. ‘We obey orders and stay here.’

‘The King has given us latitude to act.’

‘You heard me, my lord Duke.’

‘What I hear is a recipe for stagnation.’

‘We are merely keeping our powder dry.’

‘That amounts to the same thing,’ said Vendôme, mordantly. ‘We should move swiftly while we still outnumber the Confederate forces and while Prince Eugene is still trying to muster an army. It’s the perfect way to catch them off guard.’

‘Your advice is – as always – welcome,’ said Burgundy, loftily. ‘On this occasion, however, I choose to ignore it.’

‘You
always
choose to ignore it!’

‘There’s no need to shout, my lord Duke.’

‘I apologise,’ said Vendôme, struggling to regain his composure. ‘All I ask of you is that you give this matter serious thought and take my opinion into account.’

‘You’ve heard the decision – I take my leave of you.’

After a polite nod, Burgundy swept out of the tent with an imperious stride. Vendôme stamped his foot hard on the ground and rid himself of a few imprecations. During the previous year, he’d been in supreme command and able to
trust his own judgement. It was galling to be at the beck and call of someone he considered to be a novice in the field. He paced up and down like a caged lion in search of someone to maul. When the flap of his tent opened, he rounded on the man who put his head through.