The noise her intelligence produced was extraordinary both in volume and in the change of tone; out of proportion perhaps for a victory that only left them no worse off, than they had been before. But even a small taste was sweet to those who had been long deprived. Eldon was silenced, and Wellesley sprang up to shake her hand.

‘So he cannot bring over any more—How many men does he have, now?’ Perceval said, urgently.

‘He can still bring them by air, at night,’ Jane put in. ‘We will patrol, and so will the Navy, but we won't catch every Fleur-de-Nuit that slips over the Channel. They can carry as many as two hundred.’

‘He may send ten of them every night,’ Wellesley said. ‘He cannot meet our forces before we are ready to meet him. Sir—, gentlemen,’ he said, turning to sweep his eye over all of the table, ‘no war was won at the conference table, but many have been lost there. Do not let me see a room of cowards before me, but one of Britons. Give me your confidence and a hundred thousand men, for I do not fear Bonaparte.’

There was a pause; several men looked at Dalrymple. ‘Perhaps, a joint command—’ one man started.

‘No,’ Wellesley said, cutting him off short. ‘If you have no faith in me, choose another man.’

The silence fell again; only a moment's hesitation, but Wellesley had timed his challenge well, the glow of victory and success, lingered still, and carried the day. Perceval stood and put his hands flat on the table. ‘So be it. Lord Bathurst, you will inform our guests the parley is at an end. General Wellesley, you have command, and may God be with you.’

Not a minute later, Wellesley was halfway down the corridor outside, ‘A wretched waste of time and spirit, but at least it is over with, and no irreparable harm done. Roland, I need a hundred dragons, for transport—’

‘I can't hand you off a hundred beasts when I have five hundred miles of coastline to watch,’ Jane said, matching his stride.

‘I have another thirty thousand men to get here, and forty to Edinburgh,’ Wellesley snapped.

‘Tell me where the men are to be found and where you want them landed, and I will contrive,’ she said, ‘with what dragons are on patrol, in flying distance.’

‘Well enough.’ He gave her a curt nod. ‘Rowley, get her the list of garrisons,’ he said, over his shoulder. ‘Tell me, what sort of supply do you imagine Bonaparte needs?’

‘For the beasts? A hundred bullocks a day,’ Jane said. ‘More if he is heavy on fighting-weight beasts, and they are working for their supper. He is managing it, though; has foragers out, of course, and we have fewer dragons south of the mountains to eat up the supply.’

He nodded. ‘Very good. I must get to Edinburgh, and get the rest of this army into order—’