here in Portugal. I will not be able to rely on our Spanish friends for supplies, and so if I am to wage war in Spain I shall need far more gold to pay our way.’ He gave a weary smile. ‘So, Henry, you see how I am constrained from taking the fight to the enemy.’
‘I understand that well enough, but then what is your plan?’
‘If we cannot attack the enemy then we must lure him into attacking us. That is why I have given orders for the construction of the defence lines to the north of Lisbon. For the moment Napoleon has fashioned a peace with the other powers on the continent. That means he will be able to concentrate a large army in Spain, tasked with crushing my forces here in Portugal. So, I will make a show of preparing to fight the French, while the land in front of the lines is cleared of people and stripped of food, shelter and forage. Then I will fall back into the defences and wait there for the enemy. The French will face the choice of trying to starve us out, or retreating back into Spain. Since we can be readily supplied by sea we shall not go hungry. The enemy on the other hand will begin to starve, yet they will not retreat for fear of incurring the Emperor’s wrath. That dilemma will destroy them.’ Arthur eased himself back into his chair. ‘That, Henry, is my strategy. We may not be able to win the war here, but we certainly won’t lose it, provided England is patient and generous with its supplies of men and money. It may seem perverse, but I would welcome a French attack. I only hope it arrives before the government in London loses its nerve and orders me to withdraw.’
Henry was silent for a moment and then nodded. ‘I will do what I can to prevent that, but you must realise that England expects victories, sooner rather than later.’
‘Victories we will have, when I am ready to deliver them.’ Arthur refilled their glasses and looked closely at his brother. Henry’s face was lined and his hair was streaked with grey. His duties in the service of his nation had aged him.
There was a tap on the door and Arthur twisted round towards the noise. ‘Come!’
The door opened and Somerset entered. Behind him, in the corridor, stood another junior officer, waiting in the shadows.
‘What is it, Somerset?’
‘Sir, I have to report that Captain Devere has returned.’
‘Ah, good! Show the man in.’
Somerset stood aside and beckoned to the officer outside. He strode into the room, the firelight gleaming off the braid adorning the pelisse of his hussar’s uniform. Devere was a recent arrival. He had been assigned a position on Arthur’s staff as a favour to one of Richard’s allies in Parliament. He was competent enough, but his arrogance was yet to be tempered by experience. Arthur had sent him out at dawn to negotiate the sale of a herd of cattle from a Portuguese landowner. The sound of his footsteps echoed off the walls as he strode across the tiled floor and halted in front of Arthur with an elaborate salute.
‘Sir, beg to report that I have returned from my assignment.’
‘Good. How many head of cattle did you manage to buy?’
‘None, sir.’ Devere stared straight ahead.
‘None?’ Arthur frowned. ‘What is the meaning of this? Explain fully, man! I assume you found his estate? The directions were clear enough.’
‘Yes, sir. I reached the house just after noon, and presented your terms to him for the purchase of his herd.’
‘And?’
Devere’s steadfast gaze faltered and he could not help glancing warily at his commander before snapping his eyes front once again. ‘Sir, I told him our price and how many we required, and he seemed somewhat put out by my direct manner. After we agreed a price, he told me he would not complete the transaction unless I begged him to sell me the cattle.’
‘Begged?’
‘Yes, sir. Don Roberto Lopez ordered me to go down on one knee and beg.’
Arthur rubbed his brow. ‘I assume that you refused his request?’
‘Yes, sir. Of course. I’m an English gentleman and I’ll be damned if I’ll go down on bended knee to some dago.’
Arthur shut his eyes and winced. ‘And did you actually say that to him?’
‘In as many words, yes sir. Through my translator, naturally. After all, I don’t speak the lingo and the bloody man refused to speak any English.’
‘I see.’ Arthur looked up. ‘And what happened then?’
‘Then?’ Devere frowned. ‘Nothing, sir. Don Roberto said that he refused to sell me the cattle. Not until I went down on my knee. I told him his cattle could go to hell and that we would find another seller. After that I took my leave and came back here to report. I’ve returned the gold to the clerk in charge of the war chest, sir.’
Arthur stared at the young officer. ‘Tell me, Devere, do you have any idea how much trouble I have been to in order to locate such a quantity of meat for our troops? There is hardly a herd left within twenty miles of Lisbon. Our men need to be fed. Now, thanks to your petulant display of hubris, they will go hungry.’
Captain Devere instinctively opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it and clamped it shut instead as he stood stiffly and stared straight ahead.
‘Look here, Devere, you’re a cavalry officer. What is the maxim of such officers? It seems that you need to be reminded: you look after the horses before the men, and the men before yourself. That means you put aside all other considerations until horses and men are properly fed. Correct?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Arthur gazed levelly at Devere for a moment. ‘See here, Captain. We are a small army of which a great deal is expected by our country. We need every ally we can get. In future let that thought be your guide in all your dealings with the Portuguese and the Spanish. Is that understood?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Very well, dismissed.’
The officer saluted, turned and marched from the room as swiftly as he could, shutting the door behind him. Henry cocked an eyebrow at his brother.
‘The man is not a natural diplomat, it would appear.’
‘He is young.’ Arthur shrugged. ‘And that melancholy affliction will soon pass. If Devere lives long enough I think he will do good service for his country. But for now, alas, he has left me with yet one more problem to resolve.’ Arthur pulled out his watch and glanced at the hands. ‘Nearly eleven. The hour is late, my dear Henry. Forgive me, but I have some work to do before turning in. I am sure you are tired after your voyage from Cadiz. We can continue our conversation in the morning.’
Henry smiled. ‘As you wish.’ He drained his glass and rose from his chair. ‘I’ll bid you good night then.’
Arthur nodded, and sat staring into the fire as Henry left the room. He waited a few minutes before making for the door and ordering the duty orderly to bring Somerset to him. Somerset entered, stifling a yawn, a few minutes later.
‘You sent for me, sir.’
‘Yes. I want two squadrons of dragoons in their saddles, immediately. And I’ll want some gold from the war chest.’
‘Gold?’ Somerset blinked.‘You intend to buy something at this hour, sir?’
Arthur stifled a yawn and smiled wearily. ‘Merely some goodwill.’
The estate was two hours’ ride from Lisbon. The route was hard to follow in the dark, made worse by the rain clouds that obscured the stars and moon. Three times they lost their way, and were obliged to find a farmhouse and wake the occupants to get directions to put them back on the right path, but finally, at two in the morning, the column passed through the gates of the estate belonging to Don Roberto Lopez. A long drive weaved through groves of fruit trees, bare-limbed in the winter, and stretches of pasture where the dark humps of cattle and goats clustered for shelter beside ancient walls. At length Arthur spied a single lantern burning in a portico. Around it loomed the barely visible mass of a large house.
The column halted by the portico and Arthur dismounted. He beckoned to his translator and strode stiffly towards the door and rapped the heavy iron ring against the stout timber. There was no reply and he waited a moment before rapping again, more insistently. The hiss of the rain and the low moan of the wind made it
