‘We’re seen! Get at them!’ Arthur lurched forward, sensing clear ground under his feet as he entered an open space between the thickets. Another musket flashed out, no more than twenty feet away, and Arthur felt the rush of air as the ball passed close by his cheek. Instantly he raised his pistol and fired in the direction of the muzzle flash. By its light he saw the man, looking up from his musket. At once there was a cry of pain and Arthur shoved the pistol into his belt and went forward with his sword, slashing at the dim figure of the man he had shot. The blade connected with a jarring thud and the enemy soldier collapsed with a grunt. Then there were more figures all around him in the darkness and only the vague shapes of turbans or shakos allowed the combatants to identify each other.There was no chance for skills learned in bayonet drill or fencing practice to be used in the deadly game of blind man’s buff as the redcoats and Tipoo’s warriors fought it out, thrusting with their bayonets and swinging heavy musket butts, while the two officers made sword cuts at the swirling black forms to their front.

‘Bastard’s got me!’ one of the grenadiers cried out in surprise and terror, then added in astonishment, ‘It’s me shoulder!’

Then the sounds of fighting stopped, and Arthur could hear bodies crashing away through the undergrowth. Then there was only the hard breathing of those who remained, and a thin keening whine from the badly wounded man.

Arthur swallowed and drew a deep breath. ‘On me,’ he said quietly. ‘Fitzgerald?’

‘Here, sir.’

‘You grenadiers, over here.’ Arthur moved over to the wounded man and knelt down. ‘Who is this?’

‘Private Williams, sir,’ the man groaned. ‘Oh, God! It bloody hurts . . .’

Arthur turned to the others.‘Get Williams up.We have to take him back to the nullah.’

‘Yes, sir.’Two of the men leaned over and raised Williams from the ground, while another picked up his musket. Williams groaned in agony.

‘Keep yer bloody mouth closed,’ one of the men grumbled. ‘Or yer’ll ’ave all of ’em down on us in a flash.’

‘Quiet there,’ said Arthur, and then looked round. It was a moment before he realised that he had no idea in which direction the nullah lay.

‘Sir?’ Fitzgerald whispered. ‘Which way?’

‘Damn it, man, I don’t know!’ Arthur glanced round to try to make out some landmark, something familiar. Then he saw the faintest loom in the sky which had earlier revealed his men to the enemy concealed in the tope. ‘There.’