JК
Sharpes Havoc :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 112 из 242” The Brigadier spoke of the men who tried to drag themselves toward the fire in the vain hope of extinguishing it. Vuillard laughed. „The rain will slow things,” he told Christopher, „but not by much.” The fire was crackling now, spewing thick smoke. „It’s when the roof catches fire that they die,“ Vuillard said, „and it takes quite a time. Best not to stay though.”
The dragoons left, locking the church behind them. A dozen men stayed out in the rain to make certain that the fire did not go out or, more unlikely, that no one escaped from the flames, while Vuillard led Christopher and a half-dozen other officers to the village’s largest tavern which was cheerfully lit by scores of candles and lamps. „The infantry will report to us here,” Vuillard explained, „so we must find something to pass the time, eh?”
„Indeed.” Christopher plucked off his cocked hat as he stooped through the tavern door.
„We’ll have a meal,” Brigadier Vuillard said, „and what passes in this country for wine.” He stopped in the main room where the village’s girls had been lined against a wall. „What do you think?” he asked Christopher.
„Tempting,” Christopher said.
„Indeed.” Vuillard still did not entirely trust Christopher. The Englishman was too aloof, but now, Vuillard thought, he would put him to the test. „Take your choice,” he said, pointing to the girls. The men guarding the girls grinned. The girls were crying softly.
Christopher took a pace toward the captives. If the Englishman was squeamish, Vuillard thought, then that would betray scruples or, worse, a sympathy for the Portuguese. There were even some in the French army who expressed such sympathies, officers who argued that by maltreating the Portuguese the army only made their own problems worse, but Vuillard, like most Frenchmen, believed that the Portuguese needed to be punished with such severity that none would ever dare lift a finger against the French again. Rape, theft and wanton destruction were, to Vuillard, defensive tactics and now he wanted to see Christopher join him in an act of war. He wanted to see the aloof Englishman behave like the French in their moment of triumph. „Be quick,” Vuillard said, „I promised my men they could have the ones we don’t want.”
„I’ll take the small girl,” Christopher said wolfishly, „the redhead.”
She screamed, but there was much screaming that night in Vila Real de Zedes.
As there was on the hill to the south.
Sharpe ran.
The dragoons left, locking the church behind them. A dozen men stayed out in the rain to make certain that the fire did not go out or, more unlikely, that no one escaped from the flames, while Vuillard led Christopher and a half-dozen other officers to the village’s largest tavern which was cheerfully lit by scores of candles and lamps. „The infantry will report to us here,” Vuillard explained, „so we must find something to pass the time, eh?”
„Indeed.” Christopher plucked off his cocked hat as he stooped through the tavern door.
„We’ll have a meal,” Brigadier Vuillard said, „and what passes in this country for wine.” He stopped in the main room where the village’s girls had been lined against a wall. „What do you think?” he asked Christopher.
„Tempting,” Christopher said.
„Indeed.” Vuillard still did not entirely trust Christopher. The Englishman was too aloof, but now, Vuillard thought, he would put him to the test. „Take your choice,” he said, pointing to the girls. The men guarding the girls grinned. The girls were crying softly.
Christopher took a pace toward the captives. If the Englishman was squeamish, Vuillard thought, then that would betray scruples or, worse, a sympathy for the Portuguese. There were even some in the French army who expressed such sympathies, officers who argued that by maltreating the Portuguese the army only made their own problems worse, but Vuillard, like most Frenchmen, believed that the Portuguese needed to be punished with such severity that none would ever dare lift a finger against the French again. Rape, theft and wanton destruction were, to Vuillard, defensive tactics and now he wanted to see Christopher join him in an act of war. He wanted to see the aloof Englishman behave like the French in their moment of triumph. „Be quick,” Vuillard said, „I promised my men they could have the ones we don’t want.”
„I’ll take the small girl,” Christopher said wolfishly, „the redhead.”
She screamed, but there was much screaming that night in Vila Real de Zedes.
As there was on the hill to the south.
Sharpe ran.