Daniel Rawson had every reason to dislike Henry Welbeck. In almost every way, they were direct opposites. While Daniel revelled in military life, Welbeck loathed it and never stopped complaining about its many shortcomings. Captain Rawson was a cheerful optimist but Sergeant Welbeck was a sour pessimist. The one took his pleasures where he found them while the other was a confirmed bachelor with a deep suspicion of women. Religion provided the other profound difference between them. Daniel was so committed to the Protestant cause that he was prepared to fight to the death for it. Henry Welbeck was an unashamed atheist.

Yet the two men had, improbably, become close friends. Welbeck was older, stouter and decidedly uglier than Daniel and he had a fiery temper that cowed the men under him. Fearless on the battlefield, he was a veteran soldier who had saved the lives of many of his own troops by prompt action. Most of his battle scars were hidden by his uniform but the long, livid gash down one cheek was a visible memento of the dangers of fighting the French.

'I hate the army,' said Welbeck disconsolately.

'Then why did you join it?' asked Daniel.

'I thought it would make a man of me. When the recruiting officer came to our village, I was a scrawny lad who'd never been more than ten miles from the cottage I was born in. I was stupid enough to like what I heard, Dan. The officer made it sound wonderful.'

'It is wonderful when you get used to it, Henry.'

'We were tricked,' moaned Welbeck. 'They fed us on arrant lies and as much ale as we could drink. By the time we were sober again, we found that we'd signed our lives away — and for what?'