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Sharpes Sword :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 109 из 213The man screamed, fell backwards, and he fell on the seven barrelled gun and the impact made Harper’s finger pull on the trigger and the huge gun fired. The bullets hammered uselessly on the flagstones, ricocheted into the balustrade, and the recoil of the huge gun, a recoil that could throw a man clear from the fighting top of a battleship, slewed Harper round and backwards.
The Sergeant fought for balance. There was only the staircase behind him and he stood at the very top at the inside of the curve where the steps were steepest. He was falling and his right hand flailed for support and the sentry, screaming because he could not see, fell at Harper’s feet and scrambled for safety and his arm went to the back of the huge Sergeant’s ankles and Harper was falling.
Harper’s hand caught the balustrade, he heaved on it with all his huge strength, and then he saw the French officer coming for him and the sword was reaching for Harper’s chest and the blade seemed to speed up as the Frenchman’s strength went into the lunge.
The blade caught him. The point slammed between the tiny carved thighs on Harper’s crucifix. He let go of the balustrade, shouting in alarm and warning, and his legs were trapped by the sentry, and he lashed uselessly with his arm for balance and then he fell away from the blade. He toppled.
His head hit the eighth stair down. The sound of it could be heard throughout the courtyard and it was a dull crack. The head seemed to bounce up, light brown hair flapping, the blood already dripping, and then the head slumped down again and Harper’s body slipped until it was caught on the stair’s bend and he lay, spreadeagled and bloody, head downwards, on the scrubbed stone stairway.
Leroux turned away and shouted at the French wounded to stay out of his way. He ran to his left, the shortest route to the rear of the college, and two sentries, startled, came together and levelled their muskets. One knelt, pulling back his flint, and Leroux checked. They were too far away for him to charge. The one man fired and the ball went harmlessly past the Frenchman, but the other held his fire, waited, and Leroux turned away. He would go the long way round, hoping no sentries waited, and the sword felt marvellous in his hand, like a live thing, and he laughed at the pleasure of it.
Sharpe was inside the surgeons’ rooms when he heard the bellowing echo of the seven-barrelled gun and he turned and was running, leaping the bodies laid out on the grass, and he saw Harper fall, saw the huge body bounce on the steps, and Sharpe was shouting with an inchoate anger that cleared the hospital orderlies from his path.
The Sergeant fought for balance. There was only the staircase behind him and he stood at the very top at the inside of the curve where the steps were steepest. He was falling and his right hand flailed for support and the sentry, screaming because he could not see, fell at Harper’s feet and scrambled for safety and his arm went to the back of the huge Sergeant’s ankles and Harper was falling.
Harper’s hand caught the balustrade, he heaved on it with all his huge strength, and then he saw the French officer coming for him and the sword was reaching for Harper’s chest and the blade seemed to speed up as the Frenchman’s strength went into the lunge.
The blade caught him. The point slammed between the tiny carved thighs on Harper’s crucifix. He let go of the balustrade, shouting in alarm and warning, and his legs were trapped by the sentry, and he lashed uselessly with his arm for balance and then he fell away from the blade. He toppled.
His head hit the eighth stair down. The sound of it could be heard throughout the courtyard and it was a dull crack. The head seemed to bounce up, light brown hair flapping, the blood already dripping, and then the head slumped down again and Harper’s body slipped until it was caught on the stair’s bend and he lay, spreadeagled and bloody, head downwards, on the scrubbed stone stairway.
Leroux turned away and shouted at the French wounded to stay out of his way. He ran to his left, the shortest route to the rear of the college, and two sentries, startled, came together and levelled their muskets. One knelt, pulling back his flint, and Leroux checked. They were too far away for him to charge. The one man fired and the ball went harmlessly past the Frenchman, but the other held his fire, waited, and Leroux turned away. He would go the long way round, hoping no sentries waited, and the sword felt marvellous in his hand, like a live thing, and he laughed at the pleasure of it.
Sharpe was inside the surgeons’ rooms when he heard the bellowing echo of the seven-barrelled gun and he turned and was running, leaping the bodies laid out on the grass, and he saw Harper fall, saw the huge body bounce on the steps, and Sharpe was shouting with an inchoate anger that cleared the hospital orderlies from his path.