Sharpe's Fortress Part 28

"Come here, Brick."

"No, sir, please?"

"Shut up. And come here. You can kill these d.a.m.n moths while I get drunk."

Filthy drunk, he reckoned, for he had been scared today. He knew he had very nearly got caught when Sharpe had stripped the tent away from the purloined supplies, but by killing Naig quickly Torrance had protected himself, and now the price of his continued survival was Sharpe's death. Arrange that, he thought, and all his troubles would be past. He forced Brick to drink some arrack, knowing how she hated it.

Then he drank some himself. d.a.m.n Sharpe to h.e.l.l, he thought, d.a.m.n the interfering b.a.s.t.a.r.d to h.e.l.l, which was where Sharpe was going anyway so Torrance drank to that happy prospect. Farewell, Mister Sharpe.

CHAPTER 4.

Sharpe was not sure how far away Deogaum was, but guessed it was close to twenty miles and that was at least a seven-hour journey on foot, and so it was long before dawn when he stirred Ahmed from his sleep beside the smouldering remains of a bullock-dung fire, then set off under the stars. He tried to teach Ahmed some English.

"Stars," Sharpe said, pointing.

"Stars," Ahmed repeated dutifully.

"Moon," Sharpe said.

"Moon," Ahmed echoed.

"Sky."

"Moon?" Ahmed asked, curious that Sharpe was still pointing to the sky.

"Sky, you b.u.g.g.e.r."

"Skyoob.u.g.g.e.r?"

"Never mind," Sharpe said. He was hungry, and he had forgotten to ask Captain Torrance where he was supposed to draw rations, but their northward route took them through the village of Argaum where the fighting battalions of the army were bivouacked. Unburied bodies still littered the battlefield, and scavenging wild dogs growled from the dark stench as Sharpe and Ahmed walked past. A picquet challenged them at the village, and Sharpe asked the man where he would find the cavalry lines. He could not imagine taking Ahmed to the 74th's mess for breakfast, but Sergeant Eli Lockhart might be more welcoming.

The reveille had sounded by the time Sharpe came to the gully where the horses were picketed and the troopers' campfires were being restored to life. Lockhart scowled at the unexpected visitor through the smoky dawn gloom, then grinned when he recognized Sharpe.

"Must be some fighting to do, lads," he announced, 'the bleeding infantry's here. Good morning, sir. Need our help again?"

"I need some breakfast," Sharpe admitted.

"Tea, that'll start you off. Smithers! Pork chops! Davies! Some of that bread you're hiding from me. Look lively now!" Lockhart turned back to Sharpe.

"Don't ask me where the chops come from, sir. I might have to lie." He spat in a tin mug, scoured its interior with the end of his blanket, then filled it with tea.

"There you are, sir. Does your boy want some?

Here you are, lad." Lockhart, a mug of tea in his own hand, then insisted on taking Sharpe to the picketed horses.

"See, sir?" He lifted a horse's leg to show off the new horseshoe.

"My guvnor's beholden to you. I might introduce you after breakfast."

Sharpe a.s.sumed that Lockhart was talking of his troop commander, but once the pork chops and bread had been eaten, the Sergeant led Sharpe across to the lines of the native cavalry, and then to the tent of the 7th Native Cavalry's commanding officer who, it seemed, was in charge of all the army's cavalry.

"He's called Huddlestone," Lockhart said, 'and he's a decent fellow. He'll probably offer us another breakfast."

Colonel Huddlestone did indeed insist that both Lockhart and Sharpe join him for a breakfast of rice and eggs. Sharpe was beginning to see that Lockhart was a useful man, someone who was trusted by his officers and liked by his troopers, for Huddlestone greeted the Sergeant warmly and immediately plunged into a conversation about some local horses that had been purchased for remounts and which Huddlestone reckoned would never stand the strain of battle, though Lockhart seemed to feel that a few of them would be adequate.

"So you're the fellow who smoked out Naig?" Huddlestone said to Sharpe after a while.

"Didn't take much doing, sir."

"No one else did it, man! Don't shy away from credit. I'm d.a.m.ned grateful to you."

"Couldn't have done it without Sergeant Lockhart, sir."

"d.a.m.ned army would come to a stop without Eli, ain't that so?" the Colonel said, and Lockhart, his mouth full of egg, just grinned.

Huddlestone turned back to Sharpe.

"So they gave you to Torrance?"

"Yes, sir."

"He's a lazy b.u.g.g.e.r," Huddlestone said vengefully. Sharpe, astonished at the open criticism, said nothing.

"He's one of my own officers," Huddlestone went on, 'and I confess I wasn't sorry when he asked to be given duty with the bullock train."

"He asked, sir?" Sharpe found it curious that a man would prefer to be with the baggage when he could be in a fighting unit.

"His uncle is grooming him for a career in the Company," Huddlestone said.

"An uncle in Leadenhall Street. Know what Leaden-hall Street is, Sharpe?"

"Company offices, sir?"

"The very same. The uncle pays him an allowance, and he wants Torrance to get some experience in dealing with bhinjarries. Got it all planned out! A few years in the Company's army, another few trading in spices, then home to inherit his uncle's estate and his seat in the Court of Directors. One day we'll all be tugging our forelocks to the lazy b.u.g.g.e.r. Still, if he wants to run the baggage train it's no skin off our b.u.ms, Sharpe. No one likes the job, so Torrance is welcome to it, but my guess is that you'll be doing most of his work." The Colonel frowned.

"He arrived in India with three English servants! Can you believe it? It ain't as if servants are hard to find here, but Torrance wanted the cachet of white scullions. Two of 'em died of the fever, then Torrance had the nerve to say that one of them hadn't earned the cost of the voyage out and so he's forcing the widow to stay on and pay the debt!" Huddlestone shook his head, then gestured for his servant to pour more tea.

"So what brings you here, Ensign?"

"On my way to Deogaum, sir."

"He really came to beg his breakfast, Colonel," Lockhart put in.

"And I've no doubt the Sergeant fed you before you came to steal my victuals?" Huddlestone asked, then grinned.

"You're in luck, Ensign.