‘Now then, the interruption is over.’ Arthur gestured to the paperwork on the table. ‘Come, let us finish this and get some rest. I suspect we will need it sorely in the days to come.’

Arthur sat in his saddle in silence. Behind him the thirty dragoons of his escort were halted, under strict orders not to make a sound as they waited in the darkness for the Spanish guide to return. He had reached the army in the morning, presenting his credentials from General O’Donoju, and been escorted into Arthur’s presence. The guide was a young peasant, dressed in a crude jerkin and filthy shirt and trousers. He wore a straw sun hat and rode on a mule which was accompanied by a swirling cloud of insects. The boy spoke only a few words of English and Arthur had been obliged to summon one of his Castilian-speaking staff officers to interpret. Despite promising that he could take Arthur to the fort, the youth had lost his way at dusk and the small party had been led up one path after another into the hills, before backtracking and trying yet another. The map that Arthur had brought with him was useless, with little reliable detail beyond the course of the river and the towns and villages lining the route to Madrid.

There was a sudden scrape of gravel on the track ahead and Arthur felt his muscles tense. His mount sensed the change and raised its head, ears twitching. The sound came again, stopped, and then a low voice sounded from the shadows.

‘English . . . English, where you?’

Arthur felt the tension drain from his muscles as swiftly as it had come. ‘Here!’

The guide clicked his tongue and flicked a cane on his mule’s rump as he came forward and then reined in a short distance from Arthur.

‘I find the fort! You come. This way.’

‘Are you certain?’

‘Come, come.’

Arthur held up his hand to stop the guide and turned back to the column. ‘Lieutenant, I’d be obliged if you translated.’

When the dragoon officer had joined him Arthur nodded towards the guide.‘Ask him if he is certain he has found the right path this time.’

There was a brief exchange before the lieutenant turned back to Arthur.‘He says it is. He also says that General Cuesta is not pleased that you failed to arrive at the appointed time.’

‘Really? Perhaps if he had provided us with a proper guide instead of this halfwit then I would have been there long ago . . . No, don’t translate that, you fool. Just tell him to lead us to the fort without any further delay.’