JК
Sharpes Havoc :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 122 из 242”
And soon, he thought, it would be murderous for the fugitives on the hill.
At dawn, a wet dawn with clouds scudding away southeast and a wind still gusting about the ragged summit, Dodd had spotted the fugitives halfway down the hill’s northern slope. They were crouching in the rocks, evidently hiding from the French picquets who lined the edge of the wood. There were seven, all men. Six had been survivors from Manuel Lopes’s band and the seventh was Luis, Christopher’s servant.
„It is the Colonel,” he had told Sharpe.
„What is?”
„Colonel Christopher. He is down there. He brought them here, he told them you were here!”
Sharpe stared down toward the village where a black smear showed where the church had stood. „He’s a bastard,” he said quietly, but he was not surprised. Not now. He only blamed himself for being so slow to see that Christopher was a traitor. He questioned Luis further and the servant told him about the journey south to meet General Cradock, about the dinner party in Oporto where a French general had been the guest of honor, and how Christopher sometimes wore an enemy uniform, but Luis honestly admitted he did not know what webs the Colonel spun. He did know that Christopher possessed Sharpe’s good telescope and Luis had managed to steal the Colonel’s old telescope, which he presented to Sharpe with a triumphant flourish. „I am sorry it is not your own, senhor, but the Colonel keeps that one in his tail pocket. I fight for you now,” Luis said proudly.
„Have you ever fought?” Sharpe asked.
„A man can learn,” Luis said, „and there is no one better than a barber for slitting throats. I used to think about that when I shaved my customers. How easy it would be to cut. I never did, of course,” he added hastily in case Sharpe thought he was a murderer.
„I think I’ll go on shaving myself,” Sharpe said with a smile.
So Vicente gave Luis one of the captured French muskets and a cartridge box of ammunition and the barber joined the other soldiers among the redoubts that barricaded the hilltop. Lopes’s men were sworn in as loyal Portuguese soldiers and when one said he would rather take his chances on escape and join the partisan groups to the north Sergeant Macedo used his fists to force the oath on him. „He’s a good lad, that Sergeant,” Harper said approvingly.
The damp lifted. The sodden flanks of the hill steamed in the morning sun, but that haze vanished as the morning became hotter. There were dragoons all about the hog-backed hill now.
And soon, he thought, it would be murderous for the fugitives on the hill.
At dawn, a wet dawn with clouds scudding away southeast and a wind still gusting about the ragged summit, Dodd had spotted the fugitives halfway down the hill’s northern slope. They were crouching in the rocks, evidently hiding from the French picquets who lined the edge of the wood. There were seven, all men. Six had been survivors from Manuel Lopes’s band and the seventh was Luis, Christopher’s servant.
„It is the Colonel,” he had told Sharpe.
„What is?”
„Colonel Christopher. He is down there. He brought them here, he told them you were here!”
Sharpe stared down toward the village where a black smear showed where the church had stood. „He’s a bastard,” he said quietly, but he was not surprised. Not now. He only blamed himself for being so slow to see that Christopher was a traitor. He questioned Luis further and the servant told him about the journey south to meet General Cradock, about the dinner party in Oporto where a French general had been the guest of honor, and how Christopher sometimes wore an enemy uniform, but Luis honestly admitted he did not know what webs the Colonel spun. He did know that Christopher possessed Sharpe’s good telescope and Luis had managed to steal the Colonel’s old telescope, which he presented to Sharpe with a triumphant flourish. „I am sorry it is not your own, senhor, but the Colonel keeps that one in his tail pocket. I fight for you now,” Luis said proudly.
„Have you ever fought?” Sharpe asked.
„A man can learn,” Luis said, „and there is no one better than a barber for slitting throats. I used to think about that when I shaved my customers. How easy it would be to cut. I never did, of course,” he added hastily in case Sharpe thought he was a murderer.
„I think I’ll go on shaving myself,” Sharpe said with a smile.
So Vicente gave Luis one of the captured French muskets and a cartridge box of ammunition and the barber joined the other soldiers among the redoubts that barricaded the hilltop. Lopes’s men were sworn in as loyal Portuguese soldiers and when one said he would rather take his chances on escape and join the partisan groups to the north Sergeant Macedo used his fists to force the oath on him. „He’s a good lad, that Sergeant,” Harper said approvingly.
The damp lifted. The sodden flanks of the hill steamed in the morning sun, but that haze vanished as the morning became hotter. There were dragoons all about the hog-backed hill now.