The Cossacks had clearly expected the redcoats to break and run as the line of powerful horses bore down on them. The Cossacks had turned fast, their even ranks as precise as when they first charged. The gaps in their formation had been closed and their files were ordered, as if not a single rider had been knocked from the saddle. The cloud of rifle smoke had dispersed enough to give Jack a good sight of the enemy. Without command the front rank of cavalry surged forward. Jack stood in the centre of the square, his attention focused on the enemy. He was aware of his men moving around him, the sergeants pulling at the ranks to force the men into a better formation, closing the gaps in the wall of bayonets, their industrious bustle steadying the men as they watched the Cossacks charge for a second time. He could sense his men’s resolve, their determination hardening as they realised they had survived the first desperate moments of the fight.
