And as the cry from the soldiers went up, the shooting began.

Effa staggered but recovered and continued, blood running from the wound in his leg, stippling the snow behind him. Hawkwood and Kodjeote, their arms still linked around Cageaga’s shoulders were bunched together and so presented the most tempting target. They were ten paces from safety when Hawkwood felt the strike high up on his left arm, propelling him forward so that he almost fell into Cageaga’s path. For a moment, Kodjeote had the weight of two wounded men hanging from him, but then as Hawkwood regained his balance, Tewanias grabbed his collar and with musket rounds striking the ground about them, they threw themselves down behind the log pile.

Breathing hard, Hawkwood picked himself up and peered over the top of the nearest trunk. The shooters had paused to reload while the soldiers behind them were moving up quickly to fill the gaps in the line, though none seemed prepared to engage in a full-frontal assault, which gave the Mohawk valuable seconds in which to reload as well.

Pain bloomed through Hawkwood’s left bicep and shoulder and he sensed the blood seeping down the inside of his sleeve. When he tried forming a fist, it felt as though someone had just stuck a red-hot poker through his flesh. He examined his coat and saw the blood-soaked gash in the material, indicating the ball had scored rather than penetrated his flesh. There was nothing he could do in the meantime, though, except grit his teeth and bear it; after all, it wasn’t as if a field surgeon was going to put in an appearance. Awkwardly, he fumbled in his pouch for a fresh cartridge.

Lawrence should have made it to the British lines by now. But would there be time to marshal a defence? Though it seemed aeons, the initial ambush back at the bridge had been only an hour ago. And since then, what had they achieved? The invading force remained intent on capturing its objective, whereas Hawkwood’s war band had lost half its number. Tucking in his neck as musket balls struck the trunks and cut through the air around them, he wondered whether they’d succeeded in putting so much as a dent in the Americans’ plan. Had the entire errand been nothing more than a waste of good men?

Their aim had been to distract Quade from his course by nipping at the column’s flanks for as long as possible. They had achieved only a modicum of success. Quade had lost officers and NCOs, but the ensuing disruption to the chain of command had not been enough to stem the assault.

Which left Hawkwood one of seven men – three of whom were nursing wounds – attempting to hold the line against four hundred.