JК
Sharpes Battle :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 176 из 244He could hardly have avoided learning of it for a succession of officers came to the ammunition park to give Sharpe their condolences and to complain that an army which persecuted a man for killing the enemy must be an army led by idiots and administered by fools. Tarrant did not understand Wellington's decision either. "Surely the two men deserved to die? I agree they hardly endured the proper processes of the law, but even so, can anyone doubt their guilt?" Captain Donaju, who was sharing Tarrant's late supper with Sharpe, nodded agreement.
"It's not about two men dying, sir," Sharpe said, "but about bloody politics. I've given the Spanish reason to distrust us, sir."
"No Spaniards died!" Tarrant protested.
"Aye, sir, but too many good Portuguese did, so General Valverde's claiming that we can't be trusted with other nations' soldiers."
"This is too bad!" Tarrant said angrily. "So what happens to you now?"
Sharpe shrugged. "There's a court of inquiry, I'm blamed, which means a court martial. The worst they can do to me, sir, is take away my commission."
Captain Donaju frowned. "Suppose I speak to General Valverde?"
Sharpe shook his head. "And ruin your career, too? Thank you, but no. What this is really about," he explained, "is who should become Generalisimo of Spain. We reckon it should be Nosey, but Valverde doesn't agree."
"Doubtless because he wants the job himself!" Tarrant said scornfully. "It is too bad, Sharpe, too bad." The Scotsman frowned down at the dish of liver and kidney that Gog and Magog had cooked for his supper. Traditionally the officers received the offal of newly slaughtered cattle, a privilege Tarrant would happily have foregone. He tossed a peculiarly nauseating piece of kidney to one of the many dogs that had attached themselves to the army, then shook his head. "Is there any chance at all that you might avoid this ridiculous court of inquiry?" he asked Sharpe.
Sharpe thought of Hogan's sarcastic remark that Sharpe's only hope lay in a French victory that would obliterate all memories of what had happened at San Isidro. That seemed a dubious solution, yet there was another hope, a very slender hope, but one Sharpe had been thinking about all day.
"Go on," Tarrant said, sensing that the rifleman was hesitant about offering an answer.
Sharpe grimaced. "Nosey's been known to pardon men for good behaviour. There was a fellow in the 83rd who was caught red-handed stealing money from a poor-box in Guarda and he was condemned to be hanged for it, but his company fought so well at Talavera that Nosey let him go."
Donaju gestured with his knife towards the village that was beyond the eastern skyline. "Is that why you fought down there all day?" he asked.
Sharpe shook his head.
"It's not about two men dying, sir," Sharpe said, "but about bloody politics. I've given the Spanish reason to distrust us, sir."
"No Spaniards died!" Tarrant protested.
"Aye, sir, but too many good Portuguese did, so General Valverde's claiming that we can't be trusted with other nations' soldiers."
"This is too bad!" Tarrant said angrily. "So what happens to you now?"
Sharpe shrugged. "There's a court of inquiry, I'm blamed, which means a court martial. The worst they can do to me, sir, is take away my commission."
Captain Donaju frowned. "Suppose I speak to General Valverde?"
Sharpe shook his head. "And ruin your career, too? Thank you, but no. What this is really about," he explained, "is who should become Generalisimo of Spain. We reckon it should be Nosey, but Valverde doesn't agree."
"Doubtless because he wants the job himself!" Tarrant said scornfully. "It is too bad, Sharpe, too bad." The Scotsman frowned down at the dish of liver and kidney that Gog and Magog had cooked for his supper. Traditionally the officers received the offal of newly slaughtered cattle, a privilege Tarrant would happily have foregone. He tossed a peculiarly nauseating piece of kidney to one of the many dogs that had attached themselves to the army, then shook his head. "Is there any chance at all that you might avoid this ridiculous court of inquiry?" he asked Sharpe.
Sharpe thought of Hogan's sarcastic remark that Sharpe's only hope lay in a French victory that would obliterate all memories of what had happened at San Isidro. That seemed a dubious solution, yet there was another hope, a very slender hope, but one Sharpe had been thinking about all day.
"Go on," Tarrant said, sensing that the rifleman was hesitant about offering an answer.
Sharpe grimaced. "Nosey's been known to pardon men for good behaviour. There was a fellow in the 83rd who was caught red-handed stealing money from a poor-box in Guarda and he was condemned to be hanged for it, but his company fought so well at Talavera that Nosey let him go."
Donaju gestured with his knife towards the village that was beyond the eastern skyline. "Is that why you fought down there all day?" he asked.
Sharpe shook his head.