‘Sir?’ Fitzgerald writhed as the pike moved inside his stomach. Arthur gritted his teeth and wrenched the shaft and head of the weapon out and felt a rush of blood over his hands as the other man screamed.

‘Grenadiers!’ Arthur called out. ‘Over here! On me!’

There was a rustling as the men came back, breathing hard. ‘There you are, sir. Thought we’d lost you. Where’s Mr Fitzgerald?’

‘Here. He’s been injured. Did you deal with them? The enemy?’

‘Two down; the others ran for it. Not a scratch on us, sir.’

‘Good. Now, you, help Mr Fitzgerald. Get him over your shoulders.The rest of you find Williams and let’s get out of here. There’s nothing more we can do.’

‘What about you, sir?’ asked one of the grenadiers. ‘I heard you fall.’

‘I’m all right.’ Arthur replied through gritted teeth. ‘Don’t worry about me. Get moving.’

The nullah was closer than he had thought and shortly after the brief skirmish they emerged from the trees to see the bank rising up above them. As they struggled up the slope several figures rose up on either side.

‘33rd!’ Arthur snapped. ‘Colonel Wellesley. We’ve got wounded men here.We have to get them across to the other side. Lend a hand.’

The small party clambered into the water, helping Williams and Fitzgerald across to the other side.The lieutenant groaned in agony as he was manhandled over the nullah on the shoulders of three men, and he passed out before he reached the far bank. Arthur glanced back towards the impenetrable mass of the tope. There was still fighting going on in there, further off now, and he shook his head in pity and anger for the fate of his men before he turned and waded across the nullah.

‘Twenty-four casualties?’ Harris mused. ‘Not as bad as it could have been, Colonel. Too bad about Fitzgerald. He was a fine young man.’

It was shortly after midnight and Arthur stood before the general in the headquarters tent, still in sodden, muddy clothes. A bloodstained dressing had been tied round the flesh wound just above his knee. His face was rigid with barely suppressed rage as he replied. ‘Twenty-four of my men is bad enough, sir, considering they never should have been sent into the tope in the first place.’

‘It was a risk,’ Harris admitted. ‘And it failed. The tope is still in enemy hands. I had hoped we might save time by taking it tonight, but we’ll just have to make another attempt tomorrow, in daylight. I’ll give the job to Baird.’

‘Sir, I respectfully submit that I should command the second attempt.’

‘But you’re wounded.’

‘It was my task, sir. I deserve another chance.’