Soldier of Fortune

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

He had never run so fast in all his life. Darting out of the courtyard, Daniel Rawson sped along a lane before zigzagging his way through a series of narrow alleys. He knew that pursuit would be immediate and that he would have dozens of soldiers on his tail. When he came out into a wide road, therefore, he slowed to walking pace so that he could mingle with the crowd. Anyone hurtling wildly along the thoroughfare would be identified at once as a fugitive. His only hope lay in blending with the people who thronged the main streets. It was market day and he was carried along by the mass of bodies converging on an array of stalls, hand-carts and wagons covering an entire square.

Daniel knew that General Salignac would not fight a duel with him for the second time. He would be baying for Daniel's blood and castigating himself for failing to kill the prisoner when he had the opportunity. The search would be thorough and the quarry would face certain death if caught. Daniel needed a hiding place. Escaping from Augsburg would be difficult in broad daylight so he had to lie low somewhere in the city until nightfall. The market offered all kinds of possibilities. When he heard the sounds of a chase somewhere behind him, he kept his head down and lengthened his stride until he was able to plunge in gratefully among the jostling hordes, buying, selling and haggling in the marketplace.

As soon as he could, he ducked under a wagon, crawled along the ground and came out behind a line of stalls. Piles of goods were stacked haphazardly and there was a multitude of empty wooden boxes, baskets and sacks left on the ground by vendors. Above the pandemonium of the market, Daniel could hear soldiers' voices rising in volume as they got nearer. The hunt was on in earnest. Since he was not allowed the luxury of time, he was forced to make an instant decision. Carpets were being sold on one of the stalls and, in case it was needed, an additional supply of them had been stacked upright at the rear. Daniel tucked himself in behind the carpets, unfurling the edge of one of them a little so that he was completely concealed. It was only a temporary refuge but it gave him chance to rest and to reflect on what had happened.

General Salignac had evidently discovered his wife's adultery and he was so obsessed with revenge that he had hired assassins to track down and murder her lover. One of them, Frederic Seurel, had now met his own death and it gave Daniel great satisfaction to know that he had killed the man who had so callously beheaded Lieutenant Hopwood. His satisfaction was marred by his fears for Berenice Salignac. A brief acquaintance with her husband had been enough to show him that the man was cruel and vindictive. He felt a stab of guilt at having left her in compromising circumstances and he prayed that she had not suffered too much on his behalf. Daniel had been deeply fond of Berenice and would have been drawn to her even if she had not been the neglected wife of a French general.

All thought of her was abruptly suspended when he heard soldiers, yelling above the tumult and demanding to know if anyone had seen a man fleeing down the road. There were loud complaints from the crowd as the troops forced a way through to conduct their search. Daniel risked a peep out of his hiding place and caught sight of bayonets glinting in the sun. They were being used to probe under tables, into stalls, into piles of hay and anywhere else where a fugitive might conceivably lurk. Slowed down by the sheer number of people, the soldiers were nevertheless methodical and painstaking. It would not be long before they explored the area behind the stalls.

Shrinking back behind the carpets, Daniel turned sideways so that he presented less of a target for an intrusive bayonet. Protests in the square grew louder still as more soldiers joined in the search and elbowed people roughly aside. Daniel braced himself. Hearing orders being barked in German, he knew that Bavarian soldiers were leading the search. The tramp of feet and the guttural commands got closer and closer. Daniel picked out a snatch of conversation.

'He won't get far,' said one soldier.

'All the gates will have been closed by now,' said another.

'He's trapped in the city and everyone's looking for him.'

'We'll roast him alive when we catch him.'

'He can have my bayonet up his arse.'

At the moment he made the threat, the soldier thrust his bayonet into the stack of carpets and missed Daniel by less than an inch. Before the man could repeat the exercise, the carpet dealer rushed around in a panic from the front of the stall and begged him not to damage any more of his ware. When the soldier relented and moved on, Daniel dared to breathe properly again. Had it made contact, the bayonet would have ripped him apart and the dealer would never have been able to sell a carpet that was sliced open and soaked with blood. The hunt continued but it was slowly moving away from Daniel. For the time being at least, he was safe.

Edward Marston

Soldier of Fortune

When news of the victory at Donauworth reached the Imperial capital, there was delight and celebration. Vienna toasted the success of the Confederate army and gave thanks to God for their deliverance from a menacing foe. The tidings were received with more muted enthusiasm in The Hague. While the States-General appreciated the significance of the victory, they were horrified by the high number of casualties in the battle and felt that the captain-general should have protected his troops more carefully instead of sacrificing them to enemy fire.

The Dutch, however, decided to mark the event by casting a victory medal. On the obverse side was an image of Louis, Margrave of Baden. A Latin inscription adorned the other side. In translation, it read: "The enemy defeated and put to flight and their camp plundered at Schellenberg near Donauworth." There was no reference whatsoever to the Duke of Marlborough, who had planned and achieved the signal victory. It was almost as if he had taken no part whatsoever in the engagement. The medal was a calculated insult to him.

Unaware of the snub that awaited him, Marlborough amused himself by reading out the letter sent to him by Leopold, Emperor of Austria. It was written in Leopold's own hand, an honour reserved only for an exceptional situation. When it had been translated, Adam Cardonnel was interested to hear the full text of the letter, filled, as it was, with an extravagance of expression totally at odds with the prosaic despatches from the Dutch.

'Illustrious, Sincerely Beloved,' Marlborough read. 'Your desert towards me, my house, and the common cause, are great and many, and the singular application, care and diligence, which you have expressed, in bringing up and hastening the powerful succours, which the most serene and potent Queen of Great Britain and the States-General of the United Netherlands, have sent me to the Danube, are not to be ranked in the last place; but nothing can be more glorious than what you have done, after the conjunction of your army with mine, in the most speedy and vigorous attack and forcing of the enemy's camp at Donawert, the second of this month; since my generals themselves, and ministers, declare that the success of that enterprise (which is more acceptable and advantageous to me, in the present time, than almost anything else that could befall me) is chiefly owing to your counsels, prudence and execution, and the wonderful bravery and constancy of the troops, who fought under your command. This will be an eternal trophy to your most serene Queen in Upper Germany, whither the victorious arms of the English nation have never penetrated since the memory of man.'

Though diverted by the flowery language, Marlborough was very touched. It proved that his arduous efforts had been given full recognition by someone. Cardonnel raised a mischievous eyebrow.

'Should we send a copy of the letter to The Hague?' he asked.

'They would denounce it as a forgery, Adam.'

'How would it be received in England?'

'Parliament would revile any praise of me.'

'You won a notable victory — what more do they want?'

'A miracle,' said Marlborough. 'Both Parliament and the States General want a battle in which the enemy suffers casualties while our troops survive miraculously without even soiling their uniforms.'

'They do not even give you credit for having come this far, Your Grace. To complete such a remarkable march and then to have such a triumph at the end of it, is an extraordinary achievement. It's a peal of bells that will ring down the centuries.'

'Now, now, Adam,' cautioned Marlborough. 'Let's not smile at the Emperor's exaggeration then indulge in some of our own. Instead of speculating about our place in history, we must simply look ahead a few days at the time. As for Emperor Leopold,' he added, 'instead of writing a letter, I would have much preferred him to send me the heavy guns that he promised. All I have from him is the mixed blessing of the Margrave of Baden.'

'Baden is wondering what our next move will be.'

'Ideally, I would either like to entice the Elector out of Augsburg so that we can fight another battle against his depleted forces. Or,' said Marlborough, 'I would like to persuade him that he should abandon his alliance with the French.'

'I foresee difficulties, Your Grace,' said Cardonnel with a frown. 'To achieve either objective, you'd need to lay waste to the Bavarian countryside. Only when he heard that his pretty towns and villages have been burnt to the ground, would the Elector be forced to fight or sue for peace.'

'On past experience, he may do neither.'

'His correspondence is markedly less hostile than it has been.'

'I fancy he is trying to woo us into the belief that he may join us,' said Marlborough, 'while still holding firmly to the French. If and when Tallard appears on the horizon, the Elector's letters may take on a different tone.'

'Tallard is still crossing the Black Forest mountains.'

'It's the second time this year he's done that, Adam. The scenery will begin to bore him. He came through the forest in May to deliver reinforcements to Marshal Marsin and the Elector. Tallard will be shocked to learn how many of those troops we killed.'

Their discussion was interrupted by a British lieutenant. After announcing his arrival, he was invited into the tent. Over his arm was a long red coat with the insignia of a captain on it. In his other hand, he carried a tricorn hat covered in dust. He exchanged greetings then held up the two items.

'I led a patrol earlier today, Your Grace,' he said, 'and we found these discarded on the plain.'

Marlborough winced. 'Did they belong to Captain Rawson?'

'I fear that they did.'

'Is there any blood on the coat?'

'None at all,' replied the lieutenant.

'Then there's still a faint hope.'

'Why should Captain Rawson have taken off his coat and hat?' asked Cardonnel. 'Were they left there as some sort of signal?'

'We may never know,' said Marlborough sadly. He took the coat and held it with almost reverential care. 'No man wore his uniform with more pride and gallantry than Daniel Rawson. If he is no longer alive — and we must accept that grim possibility — he leaves a gap in our army that will never be filled.'

Edward Marston

Soldier of Fortune

Though the hunt had moved on from the market square, Daniel knew that he could not remain indefinitely in his hiding place. When the dealer finished trading for the day and loaded his carpets on to his wagon, he would find the fugitive and call for help. Sooner or later, Daniel had to get away. His problem was that he was too conspicuous and he could not always conceal himself in a crowd. Having lost his coat and hat by necessity, he was wearing a shirt, a waistcoat, a cravat, breeches and a pair of boots. The cravat was untied at once. Now that he had a moment to inspect the flesh wound in his arm, he was able to bind it with the cravat and stop the blood trickling down his arm.

Daniel needed a disguise. The soldiers involved in the search were looking for a British officer bereft of his coat and hat. They would have been given a rough description of his appearance. It had to be changed. Behind the adjacent stall were some sacks that had been emptied of the fruit and vegetables they had contained. Making sure that nobody saw him, Daniel crept over to grab one of the sacks, tearing a hole in one end and in both sides so that he could slip it over his head and put his arms through. When he rolled up his sleeves, he had already transformed himself into a countryman in a smock.

His boots, however, were too expensive for any rustic to wear yet he could hardly abandon them. Picking up a second sack, he tore it into strips and tied them around his boots like cross-gartering. Since the sack had been filled with potatoes, it had a liberal supply of earth in it as well. Daniel used it to rub on his face and on the sleeves of his shirt. Having no cap, he retrieved a wooden box from the ground and hoisted it up on to his shoulder, thus obscuring the side of his face. He felt confident enough to put his disguise to the rest.

Stepping between the stalls, he joined the crowd in the square. By leaning forward, hunching his shoulders and adopting a limp, he looked very different from the tall, striking, virile Captain Rawson. One or two people tossed him a curious glance but nobody stopped to question him, still less to hail the search party. He was dismissed by those who noticed him as a slow-witted country bumpkin who had drifted into the city on market day like so many from the surrounding area. It was a long time since he had last eaten. To stave off hunger, he bought a hunk of bread then drank water from the chained iron cup beside the pump. He felt restored.

Daniel realised that his disguise had limited use. It might deceive the casual observer in a crowd but it would not pass the more searching scrutiny of the guards at the various gates. If he tried to walk past them, Daniel would probably be arrested, and none of the people returning to their farms would be taken in by him. Close to, they would recognise him as an impostor. His hands were strong but they had not been mottled and hardened by work on the land. While his face might be dirty, his hair was still too well-groomed and had no resemblance to the unkempt thatch of a labourer.

Making use of the crowds, Daniel took the opportunity to get his bearings, noting which road led to the main gate and which to the other gates that pierced the city wall. He passed a group of Bavarian soldiers at one point and they ignored him completely. Hours slipped by and the first shadows of evening began to creep across Augsburg. Vendors dismantled their stalls and loaded their unsold wares on to wagons and carts. The last customers started to leave the marketplace. Deprived of his cover, Daniel sneaked off down a foul- smelling alleyway, still carrying the box on his shoulder and avoiding the gaze of anyone who went by in the opposite direction. He felt more vulnerable now, worried that he might encounter a patrol and be stopped for questioning.

General Salignac would not abandon the search. As long as Daniel was in the city, he was in grave danger. Having no weapon, his disguise was his only means of defence. When he came to a corner where two donkeys were tethered, he sat against the wall beside them to consider his next move. The animals shielded him from the gaze of the occasional passerby and enabled him to have his first proper rest since the exertions of the duel. With light fading out of the sky, he turned his thoughts to Abigail Piper and to the two men who had abducted her. On her behalf, Daniel had been able to kill Frederic Seurel and he hoped that he would one day be in a position to dispose of Charles Catto as well. It was Catto who had kidnapped Abigail and kept her in a state of terror. Daniel wanted him dead.

Edward Marston

Soldier of Fortune

General Armand Salignac was still shaking with fury. As he paced the floor of his quarters, he rid himself of a whole series of expletives before rounding on Charles Catto.

'Why did you let him get away like that?' he demanded.

'I was too busy helping my friend, General.'

'You should have gone after the rogue.'

'Frederic had been run through,' said Catto reasonably. 'I could hardly race off and leave him there in that condition. He and I have endured many misadventures these past couple of months. Captain Rawson has been an elusive quarry.'

'I want him caught and brought here!' roared Salignac.

'I'm sure that he will be — in time.'

'What's taking them so long?'

'Augsburg is a big place, General. It has lots of hiding places.'

'I want every one of them searched. I said from the start that we should have sent French soldiers after him. These mutton-headed Bavarians are as blind as bats.'

'They know the city,' Catto told him. 'Our soldiers do not. While we are waiting — and it will not be a long wait, God willing — you may wish to decide on a suitable death for Captain Rawson.'

'I'll have him hanged and left to rot.'

'Would you not prefer to take him on in a duel again? You are far superior as a swordsman and drew the first blood.'

'My wrist is still sore,' said the other, rubbing it gently with the other hand. 'When my sword hit that wall, it sprained my wrist and jolted my arm. Captain Rawson was very fortunate in that duel. He'll have no such luck next time.'

'I'm sorry that Frederic will not be there to see him die.'

'There's someone else I would like to have been present at his execution,' said Salignac, thinking of his wife.

'I kept a full reckoning of our expenses,' said Catto, taking some papers from his pocket. 'Is this a convenient time to give them to you?' 'No, it's not!'

'You told me to keep an accurate record, General Salignac.'

'What I told you to do was to kill Captain Rawson.'

'I felt that you would enjoy that more than either of us.'

'And I would have done,' said Salignac, 'had he not slipped through my fingers like that. On balance, it would have been better if you had obeyed the orders you were given.'

'Catching him alive was more difficult than killing him.'

'But you've not caught him,' said Salignac. 'The man is at large.'

'That was an accident, General.' He held up the papers. 'As for my reckoning…'

'Don't bother me with that now, Charles!'

'You promised to pay our expenses and give us a large reward.'

'The money has to be earned first. Until Captain Rawson has been captured and put to death, you'll get nothing. Put your papers away,' shouted Salignac, knocking them from his hand and sending them floating to the floor, 'and stop bothering me!'

Charles Catto controlled his indignation. 'I'll join the search,' he said and went swiftly out of the room.

Edward Marston

Soldier of Fortune

While darkness made it easier for Daniel Rawson to hide, it also intensified the hunt. More people were involved in the search and the Bavarians had been joined by French soldiers. Carrying torches, they went down every road, street and alleyway, banging on doors, storming into taverns and respecting nobody's privacy. Even the brothels were invaded and inspected. It took all of Daniel's speed and agility to keep ahead of the pack. When he was not diving into dark corners or lying flat behind a water trough, he was taking evasive action of another kind. At one point, with soldiers approaching him from both ends of a street, his only means of escape was to climb up the side of a house and spread-eagle himself on the roof.

It turned out to be his salvation. When the soldiers had finally marched past and the acrid smell of their torches had been dissipated by the cool night air, Daniel was able to take a cautious look across the city. Blazing light told him that he was surrounded by search parties but they all seemed to be moving away from him. The street below was deserted. Before he could climb down, however, he heard the clatter of hooves and saw a rider coming out of the gloom. Daniel obeyed instinct. As the soldier arrived below him, he hurled himself down the roof and landed on the man's back, knocking him from the saddle and staying on top of him as they dropped to the ground.

The soldier was stunned by force of the impact. Though he tried to defend himself, he was no match for Daniel, who pinned him down and got both hands to his neck. Life was slowly squeezed out of the man and he went limp. It was only when he had throttled him that Daniel realised he had killed a French soldier. Of equal importance was the fact that he had just acquired a horse. Startled by the attack, the animal had been too well-trained to bolt and had simply trotted a little way along the street. Daniel soon retrieved it. When he had tethered the horse, he dragged the corpse into a lane and began to strip it of the uniform. He was glad to possess a sword once more.

He could have wished for a bigger man but he took what he had with gratitude. Shedding his own rough garb, he put on the coat, hat and breeches of a soldier in a French cavalry regiment, using the sacking to cover part of the dead body. As he mounted the horse, he realised how tight the uniform was on him but nobody would observe sartorial deficiencies in the dark. Anxious to be out of the city before the dead body was discovered, Daniel headed for the main gate. By the light of the torches, he saw to his relief that Bavarians were on guard duty. Talking his way past French soldiers, while wearing an ill-fitting uniform, might have posed more problems.

Digging in his heels, he cantered along the road to give a sense of urgency then drew the horse in a semi-circle as he came to a halt.

'Open the gates!' he said, speaking in German.

'Why?' asked one of the guards.

'I have despatches for Versailles and must leave post haste.'

'Show us your pass.'

'I'm acting on the authority of General Salignac,' said Daniel impatiently. 'If you insist on holding me up, you'll answer to him.' The guards hesitated. 'Very well,' he went on, turning his horse, 'I'll fetch the general in person and he'll have you all flogged.'

'Wait!' called the guard.

'You are obstructing a royal courier.'

'I am sorry, my friend. We were told to stop everyone. There's a fugitive in the city and nobody must be allowed to leave.'

'The fellow has been caught,' said Daniel. 'When you Bavarians failed to capture him, some sharp-eyed French carabiniers tracked him down. I saw the man being dragged off to General Salignac. Well?' he challenged. 'Do you want to suffer the same fate as the fugitive?'

'Open the gate,' said the guard and two men rushed to obey. 'I owe you an apology, my friend. Take your despatches to Versailles.'

'I will,' said Daniel. 'I bid you all good night!'

Without waiting to hear their farewells, he kicked his horse and went swiftly out through the half-open gate. The city of Augsburg remained full of noise and intrusion as the search continued but the fugitive was never found. Daniel Rawson was riding hell for leather through the night.

Edward Marston

Soldier of Fortune

Having crossed the Danube, the Confederate army established a camp from which it could range into the whole of Bavaria. British soldiers were now further away from home than they had ever been during the war and one of them in particular found it irksome. Henry Welbeck had been drilling his men under the watchful eye of Charles, Lord Churchill. When it was all over, the sergeant sought information.

'How much farther do we have to go, my lord?' asked Henry Welbeck, his face a study in displeasure. 'We've been marching for months now.'

'We may have to continue for a few months more yet,' replied Churchill. 'This is a long campaign, Sergeant. It will be autumn before we can think of returning to England.'

'Some will never return.'

'That's true, alas. Our losses have been severe and the one prediction we can make is that several other names will be added to the list before we're done.'

'At least, she won't be there to see it happen.'

'Who?'

'Miss Abigail Piper,' said Welbeck. 'The young lady is on her way back home and I, for one, was glad to see her go.'

'I suspect that most of us were,' said Churchill evenly. 'Miss Piper was a charming addition to the camp but an army on the march has no need of such charm and beauty. Most of us would prefer to meet someone like Miss Piper at a ball in London.'

'Not me, my lord.'

'Are you not a dancing man, Sergeant?'

'Only when I have to dodge the enemy's fire,' said Welbeck. 'I can dance like a dervish then. As for female company, I shun it in and outside the army. It always leads to mishap.'

'That's not true at all.'

'I speak as I find, my lord.'

'Then you have clearly never found the right woman to grace your life. I daresay that you have never even looked for one but most of our troops have been fortunate in that regard. Marriage can be a great comfort, even when you are apart from your wife.'

'I get my comfort from staying apart from all women.'

Churchill laughed. 'Then you are a real oddity.'

'I've seen the harm they can bring,' said Welbeck soulfully. 'Take that Miss Piper, my lord. She caused a real stir when she first arrived in camp. There was crude gossip about her among my men and the flash of her skirt will have brought out the jokers in other regiments as well. Worst of all, she distracted Captain Rawson.'

'Yes,' said Churchill sorrowfully. 'That was a bad business.'

'I rode with him when the young lady was held hostage. I felt as if I was taking him to the scaffold. It's not right, my lord.'

'Captain Rawson is a brave man. He saved her life.'

'And lost his own in return,' snapped Welbeck, letting his anger show. 'I'm sorry, my lord,' he continued, speaking more calmly, 'but I held the captain in the highest respect. If there's fighting ahead, he's the sort of officer we need most.'

'I couldn't agree more,' said Churchill, 'but all may not be lost. I refuse to believe that Daniel Rawson is dead until I have clear proof of the fact. He's had amazing escapes before. Who knows? He may yet have survived this latest crisis.'

Lips pursed, Welbeck shook his head. 'He's gone, sir. Not even Captain Rawson will come through this,' he decided. 'He surrendered to a man who'd already tried to kill him twice — and he did so in order to save a silly young woman. That's not bravery, my lord, it's sheer bloody madness.'

Edward Marston

Soldier of Fortune

Daniel Rawson did not slow down until he was well clear of Augsburg. If the dead soldier was discovered, and if it transpired that someone had left by the main gate in a uniform taken from the corpse, there would definitely be a chase. Daniel was still deep behind enemy lines and he could not afford to relax. At the same time, he could not over-tax his horse by pushing him too hard. Stopping at the first village, he went into a tavern to take directions from the landlord, knowing that he would be leaving a clue for any pursuit but needing to ensure that he was on the right road. Once out of the village, he proceeded due north at a steady canter.

Daniel still had the best part of twenty miles to go through the Bavarian countryside. Rain began to fall and he was soon drenched. His uniform felt tighter than ever, pinching him under his arms and climbing a couple of inches above his wrist. Yet he dared not discard it in case he met an enemy patrol. It was well past midnight when he reached the next village and it was in total darkness. Skirting the houses, he rejoined the road on the other side of the little community. An hour later, when the rain had stopped, he felt able to stop in order to rest his horse and allow the animal to drink from a stream and crop some grass. Slipping off his hat and coat, Daniel scooped up handfuls of water to wipe the dirt from his face.

It was only now that he was free at last that he realised how weary he was. From the moment when he had been taken captive, he had not had a wink of sleep and had been in a state of continuous tension. Daniel had to fight to stay awake. Looking to the future, he hoped that Abigail Piper would have departed from the camp. Though he had rescued her from the clutches of her captors, he did not relish the prospect of being showered with her apologies and overwhelmed by her gratitude. Daniel yearned for a long passage of time before he and Abigail ever met again.

In spite of his efforts to keep his eyes open, he eventually dozed off for a while, waking with a start and scolding himself for falling asleep. He put on his hat and coat again and untied his horse. Resuming his ride, he kept to the road as it meandered through a thick forest before straightening when it met open country. A first finger of light pointed to the approach of dawn. Daniel found the silence comforting and, after a period of captivity in a boisterous city, the sense of being completely alone was a positive tonic.

It did not last long. From somewhere ahead of him came the sound of many hooves clacking on the surface of the road. Daniel turned his own mount off the track and hid behind a stand of trees nearby. Minutes later, a troop of cavalry went past in the direction of Augsburg. He could not see the colour of their uniforms but they were clearly going to reinforce the garrison. Daniel's immediate fear was that, on the way, they might meet riders pursuing the fugitive and join in the chase. It made him urge his horse into a gallop.

The blanket of darkness gradually lifted to reveal a beautiful landscape that Daniel had no time to enjoy. Intent on putting as much distance as possible between himself and any pursuit, he pressed on until he reached a range of hills. The peak of the first hill commanded a view that stretched back for miles. Nobody was following him and he was, in any case, well over halfway to his destination. Daniel allowed himself and his horse a longer rest this time before pressing on. His dash for freedom had succeeded and he could maintain a less frantic pace from now on. He was even able to notice the rural splendour of his surroundings. Arriving at a hamlet, he chose to ride straight through it, wondering what the inhabitants would make of a French trooper in a uniform that was visibly too small for him.

The miles rolled steadily by. When he stopped to speak to a farmer, he was offered food and drink in return for news of what was happening in the war. His horse appreciated a mouthful of hay and the chance to dip his nose in the water trough. Donauworth was now less than five miles away and he guessed that the camp would be even closer than that by now. Daniel continued on his way until he came to a wooded rise that looked tranquil in the sunshine. It was an illusion. Almost as soon as he entered the trees, a shot was fired and his horse buckled underneath him.

Daniel's reactions were swift. Jerking his feet from the stirrups, he rolled clear of the animal as it hit the ground with a thud and neighed in distress. He then darted for the nearest cover, pulling out his sword as he did so. He could hear muffled voices approaching. Seeing some large bushes behind him, he plunged deeper into the undergrowth and hid behind them, straining his ears for telltale sounds. The snap of bracken warned him that someone was close and the first thing that came into view was a musket. With one swish of the sword, Daniel knocked it to the ground, jumping out to confront the soldier who had been holding it, only to find that he was face to face with a corporal from his own regiment.

'What the devil are you doing, Reynolds?' he demanded.

The corporal blinked. 'Is that you, Captain Rawson?'

'Of course, it is, man!'

'We took you for a French soldier, sir.'

'Then you should have tried to capture me. All you've done is to lose us a valuable cavalry horse.' Sheathing his word, Daniel picked up the musket. 'Listen to the poor animal. Let's put him out of his misery — and call off the others.'

'Hold your fire!' yelled the corporal. 'It's Captain Rawson!'

Daniel went back to the road where the horse was still convulsed in pain. The musket ball had shattered a hind leg and it was unable to stand. Its head was flailing about and its eyes rolling fearfully. Daniel put the musket to its head and fired the ball into its brain. After quivering violently for a few moments, it lay dead. The other members of the foraging party came out of the trees to stare in wonder at their captain. The corporal spoke for all of them.

'Why are you dressed like that, sir?' he asked.

Edward Marston

Soldier of Fortune

Daylight exposed the ugly truth in Augsburg. The discovery of the dead trooper was linked with the news of a courier who left the city at night by the main gate. It fell to Charles Catto to pass on the tidings and they brought a fresh explosion from General Salignac.

'He's escaped?' he bellowed.

'So it would appear, General.'

'How on earth could he escape from a whole army? Is every soldier in the city a complete imbecile?'

'The guards on duty at the main gate are being punished,' said Catto. 'It was they who foolishly let him out.'

'Has pursuit been organised?'

'There's no point in it, General Salignac. He has been gone over eight hours. They could never catch up with Captain Rawson.'

'Someone must do so.'

'I know,' agreed Catto, teeth clenched, 'and the task must be mine. He belongs to me. I'll set off at once.'

'Make no mistakes this time,' said Salignac, jabbing a finger at him. 'Captain Rawson must be killed. Don't come back unless you bring unequivocal proof of his death.'