Sharpe 3-Book Collection 4: Sharpe’s Escape, Sharpe’s Fury, Sharpe’s Battle. Bernard Cornwell

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СКАЧАТЬ Colonel wants the company back,’ he said, sounding tired.

      ‘Major Forrest,’ Sharpe said, ‘let me introduce you to Captain Vicente. I fought with him at Oporto.’

      ‘Honoured,’ Forrest said, ‘honoured.’ His red sleeve was dark with blood from the musket ball that had struck him. He hesitated, trying to think of something complimentary to say to Vicente, but nothing occurred to him, so he looked back to Sharpe. ‘The Colonel wants the company now, Sharpe,’ he said.

      ‘On your feet, lads!’ Sharpe stood himself and shook Vicente’s hand. ‘Keep a look out for us, Jorge,’ he said, ‘we might need your help again. And give my regards to Kate.’

      Sharpe walked the company back across ground scorched by musket and rifle fire. The ridge was quiet now, no guns firing, just the wind sighing on the grass. Forrest rode beside Sharpe, but said nothing until they reached the battalion’s lines. The South Essex were in ranks, but sitting and sprawling on the grass, and Forrest gestured to the left-hand end of the line as if to order the light company to take their place. ‘Lieutenant Slingsby will command them for the moment,’ Forrest said.

      ‘He’ll do what?’ Sharpe asked, shocked.

      ‘For the moment,’ Forrest said placatingly, ‘because right now the Colonel wants you, Sharpe, and I daresay he isn’t pleased.’

      That was an understatement. The Honourable William Lawford was in a temper, though, being a man of exquisite politeness, the anger only showed as a slight tightening of the lips and a distinctly unfriendly glance as Sharpe arrived at his tent. Lawford ducked out into the sunlight and nodded at Forrest. ‘You’ll stay, Major,’ he said, and waited as Forrest dismounted and gave his reins to Lawford’s servant, who led the horse away. ‘Knowles!’ Lawford summoned the Adjutant from the tent. Knowles gave Sharpe a sympathetic look, which only made Lawford angrier. ‘You had best stay, Knowles,’ he said, ‘but keep other folk away. I don’t want what is said here bruited about the battalion.’

      Knowles put on his hat and stood a few yards away. Forrest hovered to one side as Lawford looked at Sharpe. ‘Perhaps, Captain’ he spoke icily, ‘you can explain yourself?’

      ‘Explain myself, sir?’

      ‘Ensign Iliffe is dead.’

      ‘I regret it, sir.’

      ‘Good God! The boy is entrusted to my care! Now I have to write to his father and say the lad’s life was tossed away by an irresponsible officer who committed his company to an attack without any authorization from me!’ Lawford paused, evidently too angry to frame his next words, then slapped his hand against his sword scabbard. ‘I command this battalion, Sharpe!’ he said. ‘Perhaps you have never realized that? Do you think you can swan around as you like, killing men as you see fit, without reference to me?’

      ‘I had orders, sir,’ Sharpe said woodenly.

      ‘Orders?’ Lawford demanded. ‘I gave no order!’

      ‘I was ordered by Colonel Rogers-Jones, sir.’

      ‘Who the devil is Colonel Rogers-Jones?’

      ‘I believe he commands a battalion of cazadores,’ Forrest put in quietly.

      ‘God damn it, Sharpe,’ Lawford snapped, ‘Colonel Rogers bloody Jones does not command the South Essex!’

      ‘I had orders from a colonel, sir,’ Sharpe insisted, ‘and I obeyed.’ He paused. ‘And I recalled your advice, sir.’

      ‘My advice?’ Lawford asked.

      ‘Last night, sir, you told me you wanted your skirmishers to be audacious and aggressive. So we were.’

      ‘I also want my officers to be gentlemen,’ Lawford said, ‘to show courtesy.’

      Sharpe sensed that they had reached the real point of this meeting. Lawford, it was true, had a genuine grievance that Sharpe had committed the light company to an attack without his permission, but no officer could truly object to a man fighting the enemy. The complaint had been merely a ranging shot for the assault that was about to come. Sharpe said nothing, but just stared fixedly at a spot between the Colonel’s eyes.

      ‘Lieutenant Slingsby,’ the Colonel said, ‘tells me that you insulted him. That you invited him to a duel. That you called him illegitimate. That you swore at him.’

      Sharpe cast his mind back to the brief confrontation on the ridge’s forward slope just after he had pulled the company out of the French panic. ‘I doubt I called him illegitimate, sir,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t use that sort of word. I probably called him a bastard.’

      Knowles stared westwards. Forrest looked down at the grass to hide a smile. Lawford looked astonished. ‘You called him what?’

      ‘A bastard, sir.’

      ‘That is entirely unacceptable between fellow officers,’ Lawford said.

      Sharpe said nothing. It was usually the best thing to do.

      ‘Have you nothing to say?’ Lawford demanded.

      ‘I have never done a thing,’ Sharpe was goaded into speaking ‘except for the good of this battalion.’

      That vehement statement rather took Lawford aback. He blinked. ‘No one is decrying your service, Sharpe,’ he said stiffly. ‘I am, rather, attempting to inculcate the manners of an officer into your behaviour. I will not tolerate crass rudeness to a fellow officer.’

      ‘You’d tolerate losing half your light company, sir?’ Sharpe asked.

      ‘Half my light company?’

      ‘My fellow officer,’ Sharpe did not bother to hide his sarcasm, ‘had the light company in skirmish order underneath the French. When they broke, sir, which they did, he’d have lost them all. They’d have been swept away. Luckily for the battalion, sir, I was there and did what had to be done.’

      ‘That is not what I observed,’ Lawford said.

      ‘It happened,’ Sharpe said bluntly.

      Forrest cleared his throat and stared pointedly at a blade of grass by his right toe. Lawford took the hint. ‘Major?’

      ‘I rather think Lieutenant Slingsby had taken the light company a bit too far, sir,’ Forrest observed mildly.

      ‘Audacity and aggression,’ Lawford said, ‘are not reprehensible in an officer. I applaud Lieutenant Slingsby for his enthusiasm, and that is no reason, Sharpe, for you to insult him.’

      Time to bite his tongue again, Sharpe thought, so he kept quiet.

      ‘And I will not abide duelling between my officers’ Lawford was back in stride ‘and I will not abide gratuitous insults. Lieutenant Slingsby is an experienced and enthusiastic officer, an undoubted asset to the battalion, Sharpe, an asset. Is that understood, Sharpe?’

      ‘Yes, sir.’

      ‘So you will apologize to him.’

      I bloody СКАЧАТЬ