Beresford lowered his head in thought and sat silently for a moment. In truth, Arthur was bitterly disappointed with the man. He was a fine trainer of men and had fashioned his Portuguese battalions as well as Arthur could have hoped, but he lacked the necessary ambition and confidence to act independently.

With a sudden insight, Arthur realised that this was part of the price of being a successful commander. The more he achieved, the greater the degree to which his men depended on him and came to distrust their own abilities.

He cleared his throat. ‘Well, Beresford? What’s it to be?’

The other man looked up, staring into his commander’s eyes, and then nodded. ‘I’ll do as you wish. If it helps our cause.’

‘Good man,’ Arthur replied warmly, and then before Beresford could speak again he rose to his feet. ‘I will leave you to compose your report again, then. Be sure to send a fair copy to me to read before you return to Lisbon.’

‘Return to Lisbon? I don’t understand, sir. Are you relieving me of my command?’

‘Your skills are needed elsewhere. I need more men. You are to return to Lisbon to recruit and train more Portuguese battalions to fill out our ranks.’

Beresford stared at him a moment. ‘Sir, I do not deny that I am weary, and my heart is heavy with the thought of all those who were lost at Albuera, but I beg you, do not humiliate me in this way.’

‘That is not my purpose. I no more desire to humiliate you than I would thrash a horse who had stumbled beneath me. It is clear to me that you require a rest from the strains of command. That is all. Once you have made me some more soldiers you shall return to the campaign. You have my word.’

‘I see. And what of my army? Who will command it?’

‘I shall. Since I am here. I will continue the good work that you have begun here, my dear Beresford.’

Beresford considered the situation for a moment and then nodded. ‘As you wish, sir. Thank you.’

It pained Arthur to see the pathetic look of gratitude that Beresford shot at him but he nodded anyway and turned towards the door. ‘Send the report to me as soon as it is rewritten.’

‘Yes, sir. Where will you be?’

‘I’ll see the wounded. Where were your casualties taken?’

‘They’re in Elvas, sir. Being well cared for at a Franciscan monastery.’

‘Then that is a small mercy.’ Arthur nodded. ‘Send the report to me at Elvas.’