JК
Sharpes Havoc :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 124 из 242All the food that hadbeen brought up to the watchtower had been stored in one corner of the ruin where Sharpe could keep an eye on it, but the men had taken no breakfast so he had Harper supervise the distribution. „Give them hunger rations, Sergeant,” he ordered, „for God alone knows how long we’ll be up here.”
Vicente followed Sharpe onto the small terrace outside the watch-tower entrance from where he stared at the distant dragoons. He looked distracted and began fiddling with a scrap of the white piping that decorated his dark-blue uniform and the more he fidgeted, the more piping was stripped away from his jacket. „Yesterday,” he suddenly blurted out. „Yesterday was the first time that I killed a man with a sword.” He frowned as he pulled another inch or two of the piping from his jacket’s hem. „A hard thing to do.”
„Especially with a sword like that,” Sharpe said, nodding at Vicente’s scabbard. The Portuguese officer’s sword was slim, straight and not particularly robust. It was a sword for parades, for show, not for gutter fights in the rain. „Now a sword like this”-Sharpe patted the heavy cavalry sword that hung from his belt-”batters the bastards down. It don’t cut them to death so much as it bludgeons them. You could batter an ox to death with this blade. Get yourself a cavalry sword, Jorge. They’re made for killing. Infantry officers’ swords are for dance floors.”
„I mean it was difficult to look in his eyes,” Vicente explained, „and still use the blade.”
„I know what you mean,” Sharpe said, „but it’s still the best thing to do. What you want to do is to watch the sword or bayonet, isn’t it? But if you keep watching their eyes you can tell what they’re going to do next by where they look. Never look at the place you’re going to hit them, though. Keep looking at their eyes and just hit.”
Vicente realized he was stripping the piping from his jacket and tucked the errant length into a buttonhole. „When I shot my own sergeant,” he said, „it seemed unreal. Like theater even. But he was not trying to kill me. That man last night? It was frightening.”
„Bloody well ought to be frightening,” Sharpe responded. „A fight like that? In the rain and dark? Anything can happen. You just go in fast and dirty, Jorge, do the damage and keep on doing it.”
„You have done so much fighting,” Vicente said sadly, as though he pitied Sharpe.
„I’ve been a soldier for a long time,” Sharpe said, „and our army does a lot of fighting. India, Flanders, here, Denmark.
Vicente followed Sharpe onto the small terrace outside the watch-tower entrance from where he stared at the distant dragoons. He looked distracted and began fiddling with a scrap of the white piping that decorated his dark-blue uniform and the more he fidgeted, the more piping was stripped away from his jacket. „Yesterday,” he suddenly blurted out. „Yesterday was the first time that I killed a man with a sword.” He frowned as he pulled another inch or two of the piping from his jacket’s hem. „A hard thing to do.”
„Especially with a sword like that,” Sharpe said, nodding at Vicente’s scabbard. The Portuguese officer’s sword was slim, straight and not particularly robust. It was a sword for parades, for show, not for gutter fights in the rain. „Now a sword like this”-Sharpe patted the heavy cavalry sword that hung from his belt-”batters the bastards down. It don’t cut them to death so much as it bludgeons them. You could batter an ox to death with this blade. Get yourself a cavalry sword, Jorge. They’re made for killing. Infantry officers’ swords are for dance floors.”
„I mean it was difficult to look in his eyes,” Vicente explained, „and still use the blade.”
„I know what you mean,” Sharpe said, „but it’s still the best thing to do. What you want to do is to watch the sword or bayonet, isn’t it? But if you keep watching their eyes you can tell what they’re going to do next by where they look. Never look at the place you’re going to hit them, though. Keep looking at their eyes and just hit.”
Vicente realized he was stripping the piping from his jacket and tucked the errant length into a buttonhole. „When I shot my own sergeant,” he said, „it seemed unreal. Like theater even. But he was not trying to kill me. That man last night? It was frightening.”
„Bloody well ought to be frightening,” Sharpe responded. „A fight like that? In the rain and dark? Anything can happen. You just go in fast and dirty, Jorge, do the damage and keep on doing it.”
„You have done so much fighting,” Vicente said sadly, as though he pitied Sharpe.
„I’ve been a soldier for a long time,” Sharpe said, „and our army does a lot of fighting. India, Flanders, here, Denmark.