‘What are we going to give to the French next?’ asked Welbeck, cynically. ‘Are we going to sacrifice Brussels to them as well?’
‘We’re going to do what we always do — fight back hard.’
‘We have to find the enemy first.’
‘Our scouts are already at work, Henry.’
‘Where were they when the Frenchies made their dash for Bruges and Ghent? Why didn’t they raise the alarm?’
‘There’s no point in dwelling on the mistakes of the past.’
‘There’s every point, Dan. It’s the only way to stop the mistakes being repeated. Everyone in this army knows that forewarned is forearmed. Yet we had no bloody warning at all.’
‘The French deceived us,’ conceded Daniel. ‘They disguised their initial movements as large-scale foraging and we were thrown off the scent. They achieved a remarkable coup.’
‘In other words, they have better generals than we do.’
‘No, Henry, it simply means that they caught us napping this time. It won’t happen again.’
Welbeck was unconvinced. ‘I wish I could believe that.’
‘There’s something you’re forgetting,’ said Daniel. ‘I was inside the French camp only days ago. I know when an army is about to go on the march and I saw no sign of that whatsoever.’
‘That’s easy to explain,’ said Welbeck, bluntly. ‘You were too busy looking for your damn sword to notice anything else.’
The sergeant went off to yell at some soldiers who were too slow in taking down their tent. Wounded by the tart comment, Daniel had to admit that there was some truth in it. His single-minded pursuit of the sword had blinkered him. On his second visit to the camp, he should have taken more notice of what was going on there. He was still reflecting on his failure when Jonathan Ainley came up to him.
‘We’re on the move at long last,’ said the lieutenant.
‘It’s going to be a forced march. We can’t let the French outmanoeuvre us again. I hear that their main army has already crossed the River Dender and their pioneers will no doubt be breaking down the bridges at places like Alost and Ninove.’
‘What sort of a mood is His Grace in?’
‘I’m more concerned about his health,’ said Daniel. ‘His mood is as defiant as ever but he’s suffering from a fever as well as a migraine. His Grace is hardly in the best condition to wage a war.’
Marlborough put on his hat, straightened his back and adjusted his coat. He looked pale, drawn and in obvious pain. Alone with him in the tent, Cardonnel was anxious.
‘You shouldn’t push yourself like this, Your Grace,’ he said.
‘An army needs its captain general.’
‘Not if he’s indisposed. Your doctor advised complete rest.’
‘At a time like this,’ said Marlborough, ‘I can’t afford to rest.’
‘Your migraine has been worse than ever today.’
‘That’s why I’m so determined to strike back at those who gave it to me. Burgundy and Vendome are the authors of my headache.’
‘Too much activity will only make it worse, Your Grace.’
‘Then I’ll have to endure it.’
‘I think it’s time that you put your health first for once.’
‘Stop fussing over me,’ said Marlborough, good-humouredly. ‘You’re sounding like my dear wife. If I so much as cough, she thinks that I’m about to expire. Take heart, Adam,’ he went on, ‘I’m not nearly as bad as I must look.’
Though he recognised it as a patent lie, Cardonnel said nothing. Nobody had been in such constant contact with Marlborough as his secretary and he’d been able to gauge the steady deterioration of the other’s health. More worryingly, he’d also seen him sink lower and lower into melancholy. Physical exhaustion was matched by a mental fatigue that had taken its toll on Marlborough’s brimming confidence. There’d been moments when he’d lapsed into unqualified despair.
For his part, Marlborough steeled himself to withstand the drumming inside his head and the creeping heat that turned his body into a furnace. In the face of a daring French strategy, he’d been found wanting and that had inflicted a deep wound on his pride. Accustomed to receiving unstinting praise, he was now being roundly condemned in some quarters. Ordinarily, when he walked around his camp, he floated on a wave of respect and affection. Both, he feared, had been forfeited. Silent reproach from his officers could be borne far more easily than his loss of esteem among the common soldiers. Corporal John had to earn back their regard immediately.
As Marlborough was about to leave, Cardonnel had a request.
‘At the very least, travel in your coach,’ he said.
‘No, Adam,’ replied Marlborough, stoically. ‘I need to ride at the head of the army. I have to be seen.’
The hasty departure meant that Daniel had little time to take his leave of Amalia Janssen. While he was going in one direction, she was about to be taken back to Amsterdam with an armed guard.
‘When will I see you again?’ she asked.
‘It may not be for some time, Amalia,’ he warned.
‘Please write to me, if you can.’
‘I’ll endeavour to do so.’
She took his hands. ‘I’m sorry that I caused so much trouble.’
‘You caused none at all,’ he said.
‘I let myself be taken as a hostage, Daniel. That put your life in danger and I still shudder when I think about it.’
‘You didn’t get kidnapped deliberately.’
‘Nevertheless, I put you to a lot of trouble.’
Daniel smiled. ‘Coming to your rescue was no trouble at all, Amalia,’ he said. ‘My only regret is that I brought Mademoiselle Prunier with us. I should have left her with her paymasters.’ He looked over his shoulder as another regiment marched past. ‘I’ll have to go now. Think of me.’
‘Nothing could stop me doing that.’
‘Have a safe journey!’
‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘but I’m far more concerned about your safety than mine. You could be involved in a battle.’
‘I’m ready for it,’ he said, patting the sword that hung by his side. ‘Now that I have this back, I can’t wait for action in the field.’
Amalia trembled. ‘It worries me when you talk like that.’
‘Then don’t listen to what I say.’
‘You seem to welcome danger.’
‘The only thing I welcome is an end to this interminable war,’ he told her, ‘and I’m prepared to do anything I can to bring it about. Only then can I think about spending more time with you, Amalia.’
She squeezed his hands. ‘Good luck, Daniel!’
‘I was hoping for a farewell kiss.’
‘You don’t need to hope,’ she said with a laugh.
‘Thank you — this is the best way to part.’
Enfolding her in his arms, he gave her a long, lingering kiss, relishing every luscious second of it and ignoring the envious jeers of the soldiers who went swiftly past them.
One thing for which Marlborough’s soldiers were justly famed was their ability to put on a superb display of forced marching. They kept their shape, negotiated any undulations in their path with ease and maintained a considerable speed. Indeed, they moved so fast that they almost caught the French army in two separate columns halfway between Tubize and Ninove. In the event, all that the French rearguard lost was its baggage. The duc de Vendome saw it a reason for congratulation.
‘We fooled them again,’ he said, chortling. ‘We flourished our colours in the scrub and gave the impression that our entire army was about to give battle. That made them back off at once.’
‘Marlborough has been tricked once more,’ said Burgundy, sipping a celebratory glass of wine. ‘That won’t improve his temper.’
‘Or his health, for that matter — he’s a sick man.’
‘Is that what your intelligencer told you?’
‘Sophie Prunier — Madame Bouteron, I should say — met him in person. She said how old and ill he appeared.’
‘We’re not here to act as his physicians, my lord Duke. A sick commander is a serious handicap. We must exploit his weakness to the limit. The best way to do that, I feel, is to lay siege to Menin.’