Suneyla lowered her eyes momentarily. ‘I do know. And I shall make it my business that her children are not in want.’

Hervey supposed her reply was reasonable. He could scarcely expect a princess to show grief at the death of one who served her. Not before a virtual stranger.

‘Ma’am.’

‘I shall of course reward you also in fullest measure.’

‘I am flattered, ma’am, but I should only be able to accept on behalf of my command.’

‘I understand that that is the practice, but I intend some other token of gratitude. Though what will be left to me when there is a treaty with Fort William I cannot say.’

He’d no idea what her purpose was. She must know that his influence in the matter would amount to nothing.

She held out her hand, and he took it to kiss in the usual way. She spoke instead, though, holding his hand the while, and his eyes too. ‘I believe I can count on our special trust always. We were once friends.’

That evening, when at last he’d shown himself and the Ranee to the troops, found her quarters in the old zenana, secured the palace, set in hand the urgent business of burial and cremation, disposed the field force in comfort and safety, and written a despatch for Somervile at Sthambadree, Hervey sat in an old cane chair at the window of the haveli over which his pennant flew, to contemplate the events of the past days. He supposed that Fort William would soon want to fete him as a great political, and his command, his regiments, salute him as a successful general – as some had tried to do that afternoon. For a while at least. But it was too soon to rejoice. There were too many men that the chaplains would have to read their words over – poor Garratt, for one, gone that very morning (and, God forbid, perhaps even St Alban). Too many of his dragoons and a good many others of the field force. The Duke had been right: Nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won.

Fairbrother came later, and there was none he was more glad to see, for his friend needed no orders, nor his concern. A curious equality.

‘Well, I never read, and certainly never saw, battle like it. What an extraordinary place is this India.’

He sat heavily and half-drained the glass of Malmsey. (The Ranee’s cellars had yielded up uncommon quality.)

‘Not a business for soldiers proper,’ replied Hervey, still half absorbed in thought; ‘but I suppose that only soldiers can do it.’

‘And so what now?’

‘We wait. That’s what, now. I exceeded my authority in coming here. As a rule I’ve found it easier to gain forgiveness than permission, but I’m not inclined to try the principle too much.’

‘Shall it be the ribbon or the rope, I wonder.’

‘You may jest.’

‘Only because Fort William couldn’t be so blind as not to see the gain at such very little expense.’