JК
Sharpes Havoc :: Корнуэлл Бернард
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„They don’t know that yet,” Sharpe guessed, „they’re taking any road east that they can find.” Infantry had now appeared from the trees, then another battery of artillery. Sharpe was watching a small army march eastward and there was only one reason to send so many men and guns to the east and that was to capture the bridge at Amarante and so protect the French left flank. „Amarante,” Sharpe said, „that’s where the bastards are going.”
„Then we can’t,” Vicente said.
„We can go,” Sharpe said, „we just can’t go on that road. You say there’s a main road?”
„Up here,” Vicente said, and scratched the earth to show another road to the north of them. „That is the high road,” Vicente said. „The French are probably on that as well. Do you really have to go to Amarante?”
„I’ve got to cross the river,” Sharpe said, „and there’s a bridge there, and there’s a Portuguese army there, and just because the bloody Frogs are going there doesn’t mean that they’ll capture the bridge.” And if they did, he thought, then he could go north from Amarante until he found a crossing place, then follow the Tamega’s far bank south until he reached a stretch of the Douro unguarded by the French. „So how do we reach Amarante if we don’t go by road? Can we go across country?”
Vicente nodded. „We go north to a village here”-he pointed to an empty space on his map-”and then turn east. The village is on the edge of the hills, the beginning of the-what do you call it? The wilderness. We used to go there.”
„We?” Sharpe asked. „The poets and philosophers?”
„We would walk there,” Vicente said, „spend the night in the tavern and walk back. I doubt there will be Frenchmen there. It is not on the road to Amarante. Not on any road.”
„So we go to the village at the edge of the wilderness,” Sharpe said. „What’s it called?”
„Vila Real de Zedes,” Vicente said. „It is called that because the vineyards there once belonged to the King, but that was long ago. Now they are the property of-”
„Vila Real de what?” Sharpe asked.
„Zedes,” Vicente said, puzzled by Sharpe’s tone and even more puzzled by the smile on Sharpe’s face. „You know the place?”
„I don’t know it,” Sharpe said, „but there’s a girl I want to meet there.”
„A girl!” Vicente sounded disapproving.
„A nineteen-year-old girl,” Sharpe said, „and believe it or not, it’s a duty.” He turned to see if the stretcher was finished and suddenly stiffened in anger.
„They don’t know that yet,” Sharpe guessed, „they’re taking any road east that they can find.” Infantry had now appeared from the trees, then another battery of artillery. Sharpe was watching a small army march eastward and there was only one reason to send so many men and guns to the east and that was to capture the bridge at Amarante and so protect the French left flank. „Amarante,” Sharpe said, „that’s where the bastards are going.”
„Then we can’t,” Vicente said.
„We can go,” Sharpe said, „we just can’t go on that road. You say there’s a main road?”
„Up here,” Vicente said, and scratched the earth to show another road to the north of them. „That is the high road,” Vicente said. „The French are probably on that as well. Do you really have to go to Amarante?”
„I’ve got to cross the river,” Sharpe said, „and there’s a bridge there, and there’s a Portuguese army there, and just because the bloody Frogs are going there doesn’t mean that they’ll capture the bridge.” And if they did, he thought, then he could go north from Amarante until he found a crossing place, then follow the Tamega’s far bank south until he reached a stretch of the Douro unguarded by the French. „So how do we reach Amarante if we don’t go by road? Can we go across country?”
Vicente nodded. „We go north to a village here”-he pointed to an empty space on his map-”and then turn east. The village is on the edge of the hills, the beginning of the-what do you call it? The wilderness. We used to go there.”
„We?” Sharpe asked. „The poets and philosophers?”
„We would walk there,” Vicente said, „spend the night in the tavern and walk back. I doubt there will be Frenchmen there. It is not on the road to Amarante. Not on any road.”
„So we go to the village at the edge of the wilderness,” Sharpe said. „What’s it called?”
„Vila Real de Zedes,” Vicente said. „It is called that because the vineyards there once belonged to the King, but that was long ago. Now they are the property of-”
„Vila Real de what?” Sharpe asked.
„Zedes,” Vicente said, puzzled by Sharpe’s tone and even more puzzled by the smile on Sharpe’s face. „You know the place?”
„I don’t know it,” Sharpe said, „but there’s a girl I want to meet there.”
„A girl!” Vicente sounded disapproving.
„A nineteen-year-old girl,” Sharpe said, „and believe it or not, it’s a duty.” He turned to see if the stretcher was finished and suddenly stiffened in anger.