'Think what happened last year,' said Cardonnel. 'Our march to the Danube was a triumph because it took the French by surprise. They never imagined we'd take so many men so far south.'
'In doing so,' resumed Marlborough, 'we were able to save the Empire from widespread destruction if not total extinction. It's the reason we're able to sit here in Vienna. By deceiving Marshal Tallard with regard to our objective, we secured the most resounding victory of the war. I look for a similar triumph in Savoy.'
'There'll be an immediate advantage,' said Daniel. 'You'll be fighting alongside a brilliant soldier. Prince Eugene has something of your own daring, Your Grace.'
'I hold him in the highest esteem.'
'You'll find him more amenable than General Slangenberg.'
'A wild elephant would be more amenable than Slangenberg,' said Marlborough, chuckling. 'At least it would charge without having to reconnoitre the battlefield three times before doing so. No,' he went on, tapping the map, 'Savoy must be the point of attack. It straddles the mountain passes between Italy and France. When we reinforce Savoy, we open up a gateway into enemy territory. It may even be possible to use the English navy to secure ports like Nice and Toulon, allowing a secondary invasion.'
'That would flutter the dovecotes in Versailles,' said Cardonnel.
'We must strike hard and strike early, Adam.'
'Thanks to the intelligence that Daniel passed on from our tapestry-maker with the sharp ears, we know that the French will concentrate their activities in the Low Countries.'
'They'll be ill-prepared for a decisive thrust into northern Italy.' Marlborough saw the doubt in Daniel's eyes. 'You have reservations, I fancy.'
'None at all about the boldness of the plan, Your Grace,' said Daniel. 'I admire it. However, three things worry me.'
'What are they?'
'First, there's the problem of getting our army there. It will involve a march through the length of Germany, across Austria, over the Alpine passes and down into the Lombardy plains.' His finger described the route on the map. 'At a rough guess, that must be twice the distance we travelled on our way to the Danube.'
'Another reason why the French will never imagine we'd attempt such a march. I know what your second objection is,' Marlborough went on, anticipating him, 'and it's been voiced before. On such a long journey, how will we keep the army in bread and forage?'
'It will place a massive burden on our quartermasters.'
'We shall have to plan ahead with the utmost care, Daniel.'
'That brings me to my third worry, Your Grace. The campaign will entail the support of our allies. Without a concerted attack,' said Daniel, 'we'd not be able to repel the French. How can we be sure that all contingents will arrive at the rendezvous together?'
'They managed it on the march to the Danube last year.'
'Yet they failed abysmally on the Moselle.'
'They did,' Marlborough conceded, 'and steps will be taken to prevent a repetition of that farce. You raise legitimate objections, Daniel, and we've looked at all three of them. With commitment and organisation, they can all be overcome. Put it another way,' he said, folding up the map. 'Where would you rather fight? Would you prefer to be bogged down in the Low Countries with the Dutch or riding into battle with Prince Eugene of Savoy?'
'I'd choose Prince Eugene every time,' said Cardonnel.
'So would I,' added Daniel, brightly. 'Italian wine tastes so much better than Dutch beer.'
Weeks rolled by with surprising speed. Daniel's command of German was put to good use in an endless round of ceremonies, meetings, dinners and balls held in celebration of Marlborough's visit. From Vienna, they went on to Berlin and thence to Hanover where the Electress Sophia, struck again by his graciousness, fawned over him. In diplomatic terms, the tour had been an unqualified success but it had been exhausting. The year was coming to an end before Daniel returned to The Hague with the embassy. His first task there was to act as an interpreter between Marlborough and Anthonie Heinsius, Grand Pensionary of Holland. A fine statesman, Heinsius still exerted great influence in his country though his power had declined a little after the death of William III. He and the commander-in-chief shared an implacable hatred of France's expansionist policies. There was a deep mutual respect between the two men.
Daniel had responded to Amalia's letter and couched his reply in the same affectionate terms that she'd used. Since they were constantly on the move, it was difficult to maintain a correspondence with her and he hoped for a chance to see Amalia when they got back to Holland. All that he contrived was a flying visit to Amsterdam but it was enough to show him that her feelings for him had not changed. On his part, he thought she looked more beautiful than ever. Being with her father in the safety of their own home had removed all her anxiety. She was happy, relaxed and enchanting.
'What time do you sail for England?' she asked.
'We leave on the morning tide, Amalia.'
'When will you be back?'
'Not until the spring,' he said.
'That's months away,' she protested.
'It will soon pass.'
'What will you do in England?'
'Oh, I think His Grace will have plenty of work for me.'
'Will you promise to write?'
'Only if you promise to reply,' he insisted.
'Please hurry back, Daniel. I'll miss you.'
'You could always visit me in England.'
'Father needs me here,' she said, resignedly.
Daniel put a hand under her chin to lift it up. 'I, too, have my needs,' he said, stealing a kiss. 'Think of me often.'
'Will you be staying in London?'
'That depends on His Grace,' he explained. 'But the first place I'll visit is Somerset.'
'Why?'
'I have to pay my respects, Amalia.'
Though the return voyage to England was uncomfortable, it had none of the horrors they'd encountered on their earlier crossing to Holland. Daniel was glad to step back on to British soil again. As soon as he could, he rode off in the direction of the West Country. Long hours in the saddle were taken up with contemplation. He missed Amalia, he thought about Henry Welbeck and he wondered how Tom Hillier was now faring. Not for the first time, he speculated on what would have happened if he and Major Cracknell had not been interrupted when they came close to exchanging blows. His worry was that, in trying to defend Hillier, he'd only made it more likely that the drummer would be singled out again for punishment. There was nothing he could do about that now.
Somerset was sprinkled with snow and spangled with frost. Its wintry prettiness was belied by a gusting wind that made his hat flap about and an icy track that caused his horse's hooves to slide from time to time. By adopting a cautious pace, he eventually reached the village and went straight to its church. The graveyard was dusted with white and the ground as hard as iron. Daniel was only a boy when he buried his father there. Captain Nathan Rawson had been one of the many rebels taken captive and hanged after the battle of Sedgemoor. Sneaking up to the gallows at night, Daniel and some friends had cut down the body and given it a hasty burial in consecrated ground. As he'd done most of the digging, Daniel remembered how soft the earth had been in July.
Since it was an unauthorised burial, they had hidden Nathan Rawson's last remains in a grave tucked away in a corner. It was several years before his son was able to return and, after explaining the situation to the priest, secure a proper Christian burial in the place where Nathan had once been baptised. Every time he came to England, Daniel made a pilgrimage to the site. The same bitter memories were resurrected. His father had been a valiant soldier who'd made the mistake of fighting for the wrong side. When the rebel army was routed, his fate was sealed and so was that of his farm. Under the threat of eviction, Daniel and his mother had loaded some belongings on to a cart and driven to the coast to take ship to Amsterdam.
Daniel reached out to brush the snowflakes from the headstone. His father's name had been chiselled in the stone along with the date of his death. Few people now remembered the blatant savagery of his execution and the
