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are less than enamoured with us of late. Even before the recent
declaration of war, a substantial number of American citizens have been drawn
to Bonaparte's flag; a legacy of American and French liaison during the
Revolutionary War. With that in mind, we thought you could assume the mantle of
an American officer attached to one of Bonaparte's regiments who has been
captured in the field. The fact that you are conversant in French gives us a
distinct advantage.
    "All that
remains is your identity. Something credible that will pass scrutiny,
preferably based on your own expertise and, ideally, involving an engagement of
which you have personal knowledge. The only problem with that, however, would
be the question of your whereabouts over the past three years. The most logical
choice would therefore seem to be something more recent, from which all the
facts have yet to be sifted. Captain Ludd and I have perused dispatches and
determined that the victory at Ciudad Rodrigo will best fit the bill. Reports
of the battle are still being disseminated. Are you familiar with any of the
details?"
    "Only from
what I've read in the news sheets," Hawkwood said.
    The Times had carried general reports of the battle, as had the Chronicle and the Gazette. Ciudad Rodrigo was a picturesque
Spanish town overlooking the Agueda River. Only a few miles from the border, it
guarded the main northern route between Spain and Portugal. Wellington had laid
siege to the town at the beginning of January. The attack had been a ferocious
affair. Casualties had been heavy, but Wellington had emerged victorious. Many
prisoners had been taken.
    Read nodded.
"Very good; a volunteer captain attached to the 34th Regiment d'Infanterie
Legere will be the most fitting for our purposes, I venture. The regiment was
created last year, drawing men from other units, so there is every possibility
they could have utilized foreign experts in the field. I'll leave you to
manufacture an appropriate biography for yourself."
    The Chief
Magistrate reached across his desk and picked up a small canvas pouch.
"These are some of the reports pertaining to the siege. Make use of them.
They contain details that are not public knowledge; for obvious reasons, as
you'll discover. Our own soldiers may well have emerged victorious, but they
did not cover themselves in glory. Such knowledge could assist in fending off
awkward questions. Use it to your advantage if you find yourself pressed.
Attack is the best form of defence. Denigrating your former comrades in arms
will help deflect attention from your alias. Read the dispatches. You'll see
what I mean."
    Read handed over
the pouch. "As an officer, you'll be permitted to carry a few personal
belongings. Mr Twigg will provide you with funds. French and British currency
is used on the hulks. I would urge you to be circumspect in your expenditure,
however. The coffers of the Public Office are not a bottomless pit.
    "The wounds
you received in the Hyde case will stand you in good stead. They're recent
enough to have been sustained around the supposed date of your defeat and
capture. They will add to your credibility."
    The scars from
his encounter with the escaped Bedlamite, Titus Hyde, had healed well. But that
wasn't to say he didn't sometimes wake in the small hours wondering what might
have become of him had the blade of Hyde's sword been an inch longer. The
razor-thin weal along the rim of his left cheek was a visible reminder that the
line between life and death can be measured by the breadth of a single hair or
the span of a heartbeat.
    "Who else
will know I'm a peace officer?"
    Read hesitated
before replying. "No one. Aside from myself , Captain Ludd and Mr Twigg, no one else will be privy
to your true identity."
    "Not the
hulk's commanding officer?"
    "No
one," Read repeated.
    "So, how do
I send word if I discover something?"
    "That's why
you'll be listed as an officer in the ship's register. It entitles you to apply
for parole. Captain Ludd