JК
Sharpes Escape :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 56 из 283The first assault, the heaviest, would follow the lesser road up to the lowest part of the ridge, capture its wide summit, then turn north to drive in the defenders desperately fending off the second blow. Marshal Massena, waiting close to the troops who would deliver that second thunderous strike, imagined the English and Portuguese troops reduced to panic; he saw them fleeing from the ridge, throwing down packs and weapons, discarding anything that would slow them, and then he would release his cavalry to sweep across the ridge's northern end and slaughter the fugitives. He drummed his fingers against his saddle's pommel in time to the fog-muffled rhythm of the drums that sounded to the south. Those drums were driving the first attack up the slope. "What's the time?" he asked an aide.
"A quarter to six, sir."
"The fog's lifting, don't you think?" Massena stared into the vapor with his one eye. The Emperor had taken the other in a shooting accident while they were hunting, and, ever since, Massena had worn a patch.
"Perhaps a little, sir," the aide said doubtfully.
Tonight, Massena thought, he would sleep in the monastery said to be on the ridge's far slope. He would send a troop of dragoons to escort Henriette from Tondela from where he had been so abruptly summoned the previous night, and he smiled as he recalled her white arms reaching playfully for him as he dressed. He had slept an hour or two with the army, and risen early to find a cold, foggy dawn, but the fog, he reckoned, was France's friend. It would let the troops get most of the way up the slope before the British and Portuguese could see them, and once the Eagles were close to the summit the business should not take long. Victory by midday, he thought, and he imagined the bells ringing out in Paris to announce the triumph of the Eagles. He wondered what new honors would come to him. He was already the Prince of Essling, but by tonight, he thought, he might have earned a dozen other royal titles. The Emperor could be generous in such things, and the Emperor expected great things of Massena. The rest of Europe was at peace, cowed into submission by the armies of France, and so Napoleon had sent reinforcements into Spain, had formed this new Army of Portugal that had been entrusted to Massena, and the Emperor expected Lisbon to be captured before the leaves fell. Victory, Massena thought, victory by midday, and then the enemy's remnants would be pursued all the way to Lisbon.
"You're sure there's a monastery across the ridge?" he enquired of one of his Portuguese aides, a man who fought for the French because he believed they represented reason, liberty, modernity and rationality.
"There is, sir.
"A quarter to six, sir."
"The fog's lifting, don't you think?" Massena stared into the vapor with his one eye. The Emperor had taken the other in a shooting accident while they were hunting, and, ever since, Massena had worn a patch.
"Perhaps a little, sir," the aide said doubtfully.
Tonight, Massena thought, he would sleep in the monastery said to be on the ridge's far slope. He would send a troop of dragoons to escort Henriette from Tondela from where he had been so abruptly summoned the previous night, and he smiled as he recalled her white arms reaching playfully for him as he dressed. He had slept an hour or two with the army, and risen early to find a cold, foggy dawn, but the fog, he reckoned, was France's friend. It would let the troops get most of the way up the slope before the British and Portuguese could see them, and once the Eagles were close to the summit the business should not take long. Victory by midday, he thought, and he imagined the bells ringing out in Paris to announce the triumph of the Eagles. He wondered what new honors would come to him. He was already the Prince of Essling, but by tonight, he thought, he might have earned a dozen other royal titles. The Emperor could be generous in such things, and the Emperor expected great things of Massena. The rest of Europe was at peace, cowed into submission by the armies of France, and so Napoleon had sent reinforcements into Spain, had formed this new Army of Portugal that had been entrusted to Massena, and the Emperor expected Lisbon to be captured before the leaves fell. Victory, Massena thought, victory by midday, and then the enemy's remnants would be pursued all the way to Lisbon.
"You're sure there's a monastery across the ridge?" he enquired of one of his Portuguese aides, a man who fought for the French because he believed they represented reason, liberty, modernity and rationality.
"There is, sir.