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explained the cold-eyed major. ‘We think Nana Sahib was also there. It’s a great shame. We could have dealt a double blow to the rebels. You know how badly we want Nana Sahib.’
    Nana Sahib was believed to be responsible for several atrocities committed against British families, one of them being the massacre in Cawnpore. There were men in the British Army who would have given a fortune to have Nana Sahib at their mercy. In fact the word mercy would not have been heard. It would have been lost in the baying of the wild dogs as they tore their victim to pieces.
    ‘Campbell is now going to push on to Bareilly. He’s going after Khan Bahadur Khan. You and your men need to ride ahead to assess the size of Khan’s army, his strength in the field and the lie of the land. You’ll report back directly to the general.’
    ‘I tried that with Brigadier Walpole and got snubbed,’ replied Jack.
    ‘Walpole is an idiot,’ Lovelace said. ‘You and I know Campbell’s worth.’
    Jack turned his mind to the task. It was not an easy mission, going on ahead alone, with bands of malefactors wandering the countryside just looking for an opportunity to hang some British soldiers. The pot was boiling and several armies of rebels had fractured into smaller groups, either trying to find their way to an area where they could hide from retribution or seeking revenge themselves. Two years ago a European could have walked from one end of the country to the other and felt safe from attack – Thugs and Gujars accepted – but all that had changed since the mutiny.
    ‘It won’t be a cricket match,’ said Jack.
    ‘No, but it’s necessary. I wouldn’t send you out there, if I didn’t believe that.’
    Lovelace was a calculating man. Not thoroughly callous, but certainly uncompromising when it came to his work. Jack Crossman had seen him kill in cold blood without compunction in order to extract or protect information necessary to win battles. He was a user of men. It was not that he thought his own soldiers totally expendable – far from it; he knew that a good man saved today could be used again tomorrow – but given the opportunity he would exchange any one of them for a prize like Khan. Major Lovelace was not the sort of man you wanted to know outside the army.
    Jack said, ‘We’ll do our best, you know that, Nathan.’
    Major Lovelace gave him a rare smile. ‘Of course, Jack. By the by, I hear you’ve been in a spot of bother.’
    Jack knew immediately what Nathan was talking about.
    ‘You mean the duel.’
    ‘Yes – a Captain Deighnton I understand? He seems to like duelling. I’m told he’s just killed his third man. Very expensive, having a chap like that in our army. Good men are not easy to find.’
    ‘How does he get away with it?’ asked Jack frowning. ‘Duelling isn’t exactly condoned by authority. I felt I was between a rock and a hard place. If he killed me, well then I would be dead. If I killed him, however, I feared a court martial and subsequent punishment. Yet nothing seems to happen to this man, however many duels he fights.’
    Lovelace’s eyes half-closed as he drew on a cigarello.
    ‘I made inquiries,’ he said, as he blew out a thin veil of smoke. ‘Someone’s protecting him. Those around him, his colleagues, are quite afraid of him – scared to speak out against him. Of course they’re also terrified of being ostracized by their fellow officers if they break the code of honour and bear witness. There have actually been two Courts of Inquiry, but the case has petered out both times. Deighnton leads a charmed life. He’s under the wing of some high-ranking official – or perhaps more than one?’
    ‘Well, the last officer he killed was just a boy.’
    Lovelace raised his eyebrows.
    ‘You saw it? You wouldn’t care to bear witness, I suppose?’
    ‘Nathan, I’m as weak as any man when it comes to protecting my honour. I’d be a ruined man . . . even you would look the other way when I