Sharpes Havoc   ::   Корнуэлл Бернард

„I hate the bloody ground the bastards walk on, sir,” Harper said cheerfully, then saw Vicente cast a bewildered glance at Sharpe. „I didn’t say I hated them all,” Harper added.

„Life is complicated,” Hogan said vaguely. „I mean there’s a Portuguese Legion in the French army, I hear?”

Vicente looked embarrassed. „They believe in French ideas, sir.”

„Ah! Ideas,” Hogan said, „they’re much more dangerous than big or little neighbors. I don’t believe in fighting for ideas”-he shook his head ruefully-”and nor does Sergeant Harper.”

„I don’t?” Harper asked.

„No, you bloody don’t,” Sharpe snarled.

„So what do you believe in?” Vicente wanted to know.

„The trinity, sir,” Harper said sententiously.

„The trinity?” Vicente was surprised.

„The Baker rifle,” Sharpe said, „the sword bayonet, and me.”

„Those too,” Harper acknowledged, and laughed.

„What it is,” Hogan tried to help Vicente, „is that it’s like being in a house where there’s an unhappy marriage and you ask a question about fidelity. You cause embarrassment. No one wants to talk about it.”

„Harris!” Sharpe warned, seeing the red-headed rifleman open his mouth.

„I was only going to say, sir,” Harris said, „that there’s a dozen horsemen on that hill over there.”

Sharpe turned just in time to see the horsemen vanish across the crest. The rain was too thick and the light too poor to see if they were in uniform, but Hogan suggested the French might well have sent cavalry patrols far ahead of their retreat. „They’ll be wanting to know whether we’ve taken Braga,” he explained, „because if we hadn’t then they’d turn this way and try to escape up to Pontevedra.”

Sharpe gazed at the far hill. „If there’s bloody cavalry about,” he said, „then I don’t want to be caught on the road.” It was the one place in a nightmare landscape where horsemen would have an advantage.

So to avoid enemy horsemen they struck north into the wilderness. It meant crossing the Cavado which they managed at a deep ford which led only to the high summer pastures. Sharpe continually looked behind, but saw no sign of the horsemen. The path climbed into a wild land. The hills were steep, the valleys deep and the high ground bare of anything except gorse, ferns, thin grass and vast rounded boulders, some balanced on others so precariously that they looked as if a child’s touch would send them bounding down the precipitous slopes.