The Cavalier's Commission

A decisive Imperial victory; a casket abandoned after battle. A hunt for vital letters begins as Bohemia simmers in a cauldron of religious conflict. With the brutal Thirty Years War broiling into the summer of 1619, Lieutenant Jack Channing takes on a cavaliers commission and pursues the malevolent Sbastian Grieux, who reclaims the parchments for the Bohemian rebels. While negotiating the attentions of Aneka, the Princess asn- tchov and alluring chatelaine of Velen Castle, and the distractions of Marianna, the countess that he adores, Jack searches for the casket and his nemesis, determined to recover the documents and preserve a reputation. This sequel to The Cavalier Club is a swashbuckling yarn of love, honour and adventure. The Cavaliers Commission captures the early events of Europes devastating conflict with genuine and immersive storytelling, woven from a rigorous study of historical material. Extract Jack thrust twice at Grieuxs throat, forcing him to parry and back away. Shuffling forward with short, measured steps, Jack lashed out with a leash of incisive sweeps which were awkwardly deflected. Grieux retreated from the advancing officer, rivulets of sweat glistening across his brow. Jack followed him, leaving his rapier tip low - his preferred starting position - and waited for the Frenchmans next move. Their eyes remained inexorably locked. Within two heartbeats, Grieux attacked again, craving a short fight. He stabbed at Jacks face with more optimism than threat. Easily evaded, Jack lunged again, piercing the gambeson above the right shoulder and leaving a neat gash, but only a wound to Grieuxs pride. Infuriated, Grieux charged, poking and prodding repeatedly; frantically probing for a weakness. The Frenchman foined wildly, erratic thrusts that proved more hopeful than deadly. Jack retreated, maintaining a measured distance between them, initially detruding with his rapier then turning the lunges aside with his gloved hand. He countered, jabbing in quick succession, and as Grieux hacked the envoys blade away, Jack shot out with his fist, rattling the mercenarys jaw. On the offensive now, the Polish officer slashed repeatedly at the shorter mans chest, slicing through the quilted jerkin and lacerating the skin. This drew a ripple from the crowd. Blood oozed freely from the wound, blotting his upper shirt and drawing a feral curse amidst his heavy panting. Jack recognised fear in Grieuxs eyes for the first time, as the Frenchman spat blood from his split lips. Hubris and swagger were yielding to indecision and concern.