‘So, I am resolved that we will only fight on advantageous terms. When we come to face Marshal Masséna in battle you will all be required to move your men swiftly so that we may be strong where the enemy is weak, and that we quickly reinforce any points on our line that come under pressure.’ Arthur paused. ‘Any questions, gentlemen?’

One of the officers raised a hand, a stocky man in his early thirties, with piercing brown eyes and an almost completely bald pate.

‘Yes, Colonel Cox?’

‘Have you decided where to face Marshal Masséna, sir?’

Arthur was silent for a moment, wondering if he should take his senior officers into his confidence. If anything should happen to him, then it might be as well for them to know his mind, and adapt to his strategy for facing the enemy. On the other hand, Arthur realised that much as it might benefit them to carry on his plan, they would be handicapped by constantly attempting to pursue his intentions too strictly and thus lack the flexibility that characterised effective leadership. He fixed Colonel Cox with a steady look.

‘I have a location in mind.’

There was a brief, expectant silence, but Arthur said no more.

‘Where might that be, sir?’ Cox persisted.

‘All in good time, Colonel. You will find out soon enough.’

Two days later, Arthur was riding in the company of Somerset and a squadron of light cavalry scouting the landscape north of the Mondego river, the route along which Masséna was likely to advance, once he had disposed of the frontier fortresses. Most of Arthur’s army had already crossed the river and was camped around the town of Coimbra. The officers and men were in high spirits, almost eager to close with the enemy after so many months of waiting in camp, with the unending routine of exercise and drilling that their commander insisted on. Arthur was well aware that the army was spoiling for a fight, but so far Masséna had defied his expectations. The French had invested Ciudad Rodrigo slowly and the latest report from Arthur’s scouts revealed that the enemy had not even begun to dig any approach trenches, or establish any siege batteries. It would be some weeks before Masséna was ready to assault the fortress. The danger was, by that time the English soldiers might have lost some of their edge. The greater danger was that the longer it took for the invasion of Portugal to begin, the greater the chance that the government back in London might lose its nerve and issue orders for the evacuation of Arthur and his army.

As the small party reached the crest of a ridge on the road to Mortágua they came upon the whitewashed walls of a convent. Arthur turned to Somerset.

‘What is this place?’