Another flurry of reports sounded and he ducked. Looking around him, no one appeared to be hit, which made him wonder if the troops had either lost sight of them or were just poor shots. His throat constricted when he saw what appeared to be smoke ahead. His first thought was that somehow the enemy had managed to outflank them. But then he realized, as the ground turned to porridge beneath him, that it wasn’t smoke at all but mist congregating over water. And it wasn’t Quade’s men who’d cut off their escape route; Nature had provided her own inimitable barrier.

Only quick thinking by one of Tewanias’s men prevented Hawkwood from being sucked into the bog. He was up to his knees and going down when the nearest warrior to him – Chohajo – thrust out his war bow, allowing Hawkwood to grasp the tip so that he could be pulled to safety. As his feet found firmer ground and he caught his breath, it struck him that Lawrence would have appreciated the irony of the situation after his own experience during their crossing of the Saranac.

All humorous thought quickly evaporated when he saw what lay before them.

With pockets of mist drifting across its surface like steam, it was impossible to tell how far the mire extended or which areas were solid and which were swamp. The fact that the cold had not penetrated the ground to the extent that it had become safe to walk upon was a warning not to be ignored. Had he struggled, he’d likely have sunk in a lot deeper. Attempting to cross such a treacherous area was asking for trouble.

Tewanias grasped Hawkwood’s arm. “This way, Mat-huwa!”

We’re being herded, Hawkwood realized when he saw the direction in which Tewanias was leading them. He saw then just how well Quade had played the game, forcing them towards the road and the column’s waiting guns.

Hawkwood thought about the road. Quade would have been briefed on the terrain before leaving Plattsburg. He’d have known about the swamp as a place to avoid. All he’d needed to do was drive Hawkwood and Tewanias’s men towards it, knowing they’d be forced to make a detour, with only two directions available to them: east, which would place them at the mercy of Quade’s extended right flank; or west, into the path of the advancing troops. This was the option Tewanias had chosen.

Because he knows that if we can get to the road first, Hawkwood thought, we can make it. Maybe.

But even as the thought formed he saw Tewanias raise a hand. Every man froze. Hawkwood looked towards the trees ahead and the shadows within them.

Soldiers from the column. They’ve got there first, damn it.