‘And have some of the howitzers brought forward as well, in case we have to deal with any enemy formations out in the open.’

Somerset saluted and ran off to do his general’s bidding. Arthur turned to inspect the enemy’s positions again as dusk began to settle over the land. As the light faded his eyes briefly passed over a large structure close to the river at the foot of the towering cliffs opposite. Some kind of convent or seminary, he guessed.There was no sign of life within, as if the building had been abandoned. Arthur’s keen eyes searched the south bank as far up and downriver as he could, but there was no sign of a single boat on his side of the Douro.

As night fell, the struggle around the French bridgehead on the south bank died away until there was peace and quiet from that sector, broken occasionally when the men on either side called out to each other, offering items in trade, or simply ribald insults. Arthur had taken over the Serra convent to act as his field headquarters and had a desk set up on the terrace where he snatched a quick supper before settling down to read the evening reports, and then, shortly after midnight, draft his plans for the assault on the pontoon bridge. He had finished his notes and was in the act of handing them over to Somerset to have them copied up in a neat hand when there was a sudden brilliant flash from the direction of the river, then another, and at once a concussive blast that shook the terrace to its foundations.

‘What the hell?’ Somerset hurried across to the edge of the terrace, and Arthur rose to follow him. Small fires and flames flickered from the remains of the bridge and were gradually snuffed out as the pontoons sank into the current. By the light of the stars and a dim crescent moon Arthur could see enough to know that the bridge had been utterly destroyed. Only fragments remained, attached to each bank.The rest had been blown to pieces, or was already drifting away down the river towards the ocean.

Arthur stared at the scene a moment longer before he returned to his desk and picked up the plans he had made for the taking of the bridge. He held the sheaf of paper and slowly ripped it in half. Somerset joined him.

‘What now, sir?’

‘What now?’ Arthur shook his head. ‘Unless we find another way to cross the river, our campaign will have been frustrated almost as soon as it has begun.’

Chapter 56

Chapter 56