In his 12 novels about the British officer Flashman, George MacDonald Fraser has sent this tormented coward to many of the greatest battles of the mid-19th century. His only real accomplishment has been to flee from all of them. Flashman is Blackadder without jokes, a cynic and egotist who would like nothing more than to enjoy life at home with his wife, (and the occasional lover and prostitute), but because of his undeserved reputation as a war hero the British government won’t let him. It’s the glory days of Empire, and there’s always a dangerous situation somewhere to sort out.

In Flashman and the Mountain of Light, Flashman is sent as a spy to Lahore in Punjab, to prepare for the Sikh war of 1845-46. Lahore at this time is a cauldron of dynastic intrigue, where leaders betray each other at first chance, and everybody has conflicting agendas. A swashbuckling hero would feel right at home. Naturally, Flashman hates every second of it.

Flashman’s curse is to be surrounded by madmen: heroes and great generals who glorify war and self-sacrifice in the name of some bloody stupid cause. He doesn’t want to die on a battlefield in India. Who would? Flashman is a hypocrite, but he’s honest with himself and the reader, and he despises the lower type of hypocrite who pretends that building an empire is a clean affair.

These are not pacifist novels, and they’re not targetted at the British empire as such. It’s just honest history: Bloody and absurd.