The corporal had spoken of seven or eight warriors. Quade was prepared to gamble that the total number of attackers was indeed small, perhaps a dozen to fifteen guns at the most. Notwithstanding the bridge having the potential to be a killing ground, there was a limit to the firepower such a small number of shooters could discharge successfully against a much larger body of well-armed troops. All he needed to do was get the men across the bridge. Force of numbers would do the rest. But he’d have to move fast.

It was said a bad workman blamed his tools. Hawkwood had enough faith in his own ability as a marksman, however, to know that in all likelihood it had been a fault with the musket that had caused him to miss the shot, though in his own defence Quade had only been in view for a second. Had it been a Baker rifle, the chances were Quade would now be lying in the snow with a bullet through his heart. But that wasn’t the case. As a result, by the time Hawkwood had reloaded, he was wondering if he wouldn’t have been better off using a damned bow.

That thought notwithstanding, the trap had worked well, thanks to Tewanias who, when Hawkwood had enquired about a possible place of ambush, had known exactly the spot to head for. The forest and the fog had lent the necessary cover and, while it was no Thermopylae, the bridge had provided an ideal choke point.

But although breathing space had been won, the respite was likely to be short-lived. It wouldn’t be long before Quade led his men back over the creek and Hawkwood knew that when that time came, his meagre band of warriors would have no option but to give way. Though that didn’t necessarily mean they would run.

If his time in Spain with the guerrilleros had taught him anything it was that you didn’t have to meet the enemy head-on to be effective. Havoc could be visited upon a foe in many ways, if the right strategy was employed. Hawkwood’s strategy was based on the Iroquois understanding of forest warfare and the Americans’ fear of native auxiliaries, which was why he’d told Tewanias and Cageaga to use their traditional weapons – tomahawks, clubs and knives – and that no quarter was to be given.

It was also why he’d wanted warriors armed with bows. Swift to deploy – an Iroquois warrior could launch fifteen arrows in the time it took to load a musket – the bow had the advantage of being a silent killer, capable of delivering death without warning. To the Americans, it was a weapon used by savages who lived beyond the borders of civilized men, who fought without honour, who treated their prisoners in ways too awful to mention. A bow, when added to an arsenal, could instil terror. And it had done just that.