JК
Sharpes Havoc :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 30 из 242I am the only officer of my company left, so who else could make the decision? Captain Rocha was killed by a cannonball up on the redoubt, and the others? I do not know what happened to them.”
„No,” Sharpe said, „before that. You shot your Sergeant?”
Vicente nodded. „I shall stand trial, of course. I shall plead necessity.” There were tears in his eyes. „But the Sergeant said you were all dead men and that we were beaten ones. He was urging the men to shed their uniforms and desert.”
„You did the right thing,” Sharpe said, astonished.
Vicente bowed again. „You flatter me, senhor.”
„And stop calling me senhor,” Sharpe said. „I’m a lieutenant like you.”
Vicente took a half step back, unable to hide his surprise. „You are a…?” he began to ask, then understood that the question was rude. Sharpe was older than he was, maybe by ten years, and if Sharpe was still a lieutenant then presumably he was not a good soldier, for a good soldier, by the age of thirty, must have been promoted. „But I am sure, senhor” Vicente went on, „that you are senior to me.”
„I might not be,” Sharpe said.
„I have been a lieutenant for two weeks,” Vicente said.
It was Sharpe’s turn to look surprised. „Two weeks!”
„I had some training before that, of course,” Vicente said, „and during my studies I read the exploits of the great soldiers.”
„Your studies?”
„I am a lawyer, senhor.”
„A lawyer!” Sharpe could not hide his instinctive disgust. He came from the gutters of England and anyone born and raised in those gutters knew that most persecution and oppression was inflicted by lawyers. Lawyers were the devil’s servants who ushered men and women to the gallows, they were the vermin who gave orders to the bailiffs, they made their snares from statutes and became wealthy on their victims and when they were rich enough they became politicians so they could devise even more laws to make themselves even wealthier. „I hate bloody lawyers,” Sharpe growled with a genuine intensity for he was remembering Lady Grace and what had happened after she died and how the lawyers had stripped him of every penny he had ever made, and the memory of Grace and her dead baby brought all the old misery back and he thrust it out of mind. „I do hate lawyers,” he said.
Vicente was so dumbfounded by Sharpe’s hostility that he seemed to simply blank it out of his mind. „I was a lawyer,” he said, „before I took up my country’s sword. I worked for the Real Companhia Velha, which is responsible for the regulation of the trade of port wine.
„No,” Sharpe said, „before that. You shot your Sergeant?”
Vicente nodded. „I shall stand trial, of course. I shall plead necessity.” There were tears in his eyes. „But the Sergeant said you were all dead men and that we were beaten ones. He was urging the men to shed their uniforms and desert.”
„You did the right thing,” Sharpe said, astonished.
Vicente bowed again. „You flatter me, senhor.”
„And stop calling me senhor,” Sharpe said. „I’m a lieutenant like you.”
Vicente took a half step back, unable to hide his surprise. „You are a…?” he began to ask, then understood that the question was rude. Sharpe was older than he was, maybe by ten years, and if Sharpe was still a lieutenant then presumably he was not a good soldier, for a good soldier, by the age of thirty, must have been promoted. „But I am sure, senhor” Vicente went on, „that you are senior to me.”
„I might not be,” Sharpe said.
„I have been a lieutenant for two weeks,” Vicente said.
It was Sharpe’s turn to look surprised. „Two weeks!”
„I had some training before that, of course,” Vicente said, „and during my studies I read the exploits of the great soldiers.”
„Your studies?”
„I am a lawyer, senhor.”
„A lawyer!” Sharpe could not hide his instinctive disgust. He came from the gutters of England and anyone born and raised in those gutters knew that most persecution and oppression was inflicted by lawyers. Lawyers were the devil’s servants who ushered men and women to the gallows, they were the vermin who gave orders to the bailiffs, they made their snares from statutes and became wealthy on their victims and when they were rich enough they became politicians so they could devise even more laws to make themselves even wealthier. „I hate bloody lawyers,” Sharpe growled with a genuine intensity for he was remembering Lady Grace and what had happened after she died and how the lawyers had stripped him of every penny he had ever made, and the memory of Grace and her dead baby brought all the old misery back and he thrust it out of mind. „I do hate lawyers,” he said.
Vicente was so dumbfounded by Sharpe’s hostility that he seemed to simply blank it out of his mind. „I was a lawyer,” he said, „before I took up my country’s sword. I worked for the Real Companhia Velha, which is responsible for the regulation of the trade of port wine.