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‘With the declaration of war, I need every talented individual I can get hold of. I want to bring you on board, not as an irregular, but as a full operative of the Department.’
    â€˜I see.’
    â€˜I’m organising a special intelligence and espionage corps. I want you to be part of it.’
    Aubrey sat upright. ‘But aren’t I a little young?’
    Craddock smiled grimly. ‘You’re eighteen. Many of our army volunteers are younger than that. Besides, how old do you have to be to die for your country?’
    Aubrey swallowed. ‘I’d prefer to live for my country. I could get more done that way.’
    â€˜So do I, but I want you to understand what’s at stake here.’ Craddock took a large, leather-bound ledger from a desk drawer. He opened it. ‘I’m going to need all sorts of people, young and old. We’ll be recruiting women, too, plenty of them.’
    â€˜For active service?’
    â€˜Of course. We’re not going to overlook talent, wherever we find it. The regular army can shilly-shally on such matters, but we can’t afford to. I anticipate that members of these special units will have to work in different places, blending in unobtrusively.’
    â€˜Overseas?’
    â€˜Wherever they’re needed. Behind enemy lines, in Gallia, in the Goltans.’
    When Aubrey had committed himself to being a soldier, he’d accepted that he would be sent to the front. He’d worked up his courage to encompass this eventuality, and now his expectations were thrown out of the window. This was not what he’d been planning – but it was altogether more exciting.
    â€˜I’m not sure what my parents will think.’
    Craddock paused. ‘That, of course, is up to you. But I had imagined that you’d sorted it out before going to enlist.’
    Aubrey opened and closed his mouth. ‘What do I have to do?’ he said finally.
    Craddock opened another desk drawer. ‘Sign here, and here.’
    With a feeling that his life would never be the same, he took the pen that Craddock offered and signed.
    â€˜Now the oath.’
    As Aubrey repeated the words after Craddock, promising loyalty to the King and to Albion, he had a sudden sense of the vast machinery of war gobbling him up. He hoped that he was gristly enough and tough enough for it to spit him out in one piece.
    â€˜Now.’ Craddock handed him a copy of his enlistment papers. ‘Go home.’
    â€˜Go home?’
    â€˜Every recruit gets forty-eight hours before he has to report.’ Craddock smiled icily. ‘Consider it your first task as part of the military. If you survive talking to your parents, we’ll see you in two days.’

Seven

    It wasn’t cowardice that made him slip in a side entrance of Maidstone, Aubrey assured himself. It was simply good tactics. No sense in confronting his mother before his father came home. One scene was better than two.
    He stood just inside the door, his back to the wall of the box room. Appetising aromas came from the kitchen, reminding Aubrey that he’d missed lunch. For a moment he considered nipping in and cadging something from cook, but he chose not to press his luck.
    He knew the discussion with his parents would be a battle, but he hoped it wouldn’t be a major battle. A skirmish would be preferable, with only light wounds on both sides, but he had his doubts. His parents had plans for him and he was sure that signing up for a clandestine espionage unit wasn’t one of them.
    Scholar Tan’s advice came to him: Make choices before your foe makes them for you.
    He ticked off the usual decisions facing a battle commander. Site? Well, no choice there. He supposed he could try to catch both his parents on neutral ground, but with the uproar over the declaration of war, he’d be lucky to see his father at all. Timing? Again, that was out of his hands. When his father managed to get home,