JК
Sharpes Gold :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 132 из 179We sleep!
Knowles had done well, unbarring a huge house that stabled the Germans' horses, housed everyone, and on the second floor, behind a huge, polished door, was a bedroom with a feather mattress, a canopied bed, rugs, and the smell of old wood and fresh sheets. Sharpe closed the door, cutting off the sounds of his men who were sharing wine with the Germans, and looked at the girl.
'El Catolico's here.
She nodded. 'What did you expect?
He unbuckled his belt, untied the faded red sash, and knew that his shoulder was too stiff, too painful, for him to undress properly. Teresa saw it, pushed back the sheet, and he saw she was already naked. She crossed the floor, helped him, went back to the huge, soft bed with him. Sharpe lay flat and the girl propped herself beside him.
'What does he want?
'Later, Sharpe said. 'Later. His right arm was still good and he pulled the girl on top of him, felt her hair fall either side of his face, her hands explore the scars on his back. Her mouth was beside his ear.
'Can I keep the rifle?
'It's all yours, he said. 'All yours. And it was.
CHAPTER 19
Her finger pressed on the scars of the flogging. 'Who did it?
'A man called Morris, and a Sergeant. Hakeswill.
'Why?
He shrugged. 'They lied.
'You kill them?
'Not yet.
She nodded slowly. 'You will?
'I will. It was not yet dawn, but the sky had the grey luminance that came before first light, and Sharpe wanted to be at the telegraph early. He was reluctant to move, to lose the warm body, but others were stirring in the house and a cockerel, exploding into sound in the courtyard, jerked him upright. He lay back again, taking five more minutes, and pulled Teresa close.
'Did Hardy want you?
She smiled, said something in Spanish, and he assumed she was asking if he was jealous.
'No.
She wagged her head, seemed to shrug. 'Yes. He wanted me.
'And did you?
She laughed. 'No. Joaquim was too close.
Joaquim, damned Joaquim Jovellanos, El Catolico, Colonel and crook. The girl had told him, when they were lying hot and sweaty in the wide bed, of her father, of El Catolico, of the business of staying alive in the mountains when the enemy is everywhere and there is no law and no government. Her father, she said, was good, but weak.
'Weak? Sharpe had winced as he propped himself on an elbow.
'He was strong. Teresa still had problems with English and she shrugged helplessly.
Sharpe helped her. 'And El Catolico?
She smiled, pushed hair away from her eyes. 'He wants everything. My father's men, land, money, me. He's strong.
Knowles had done well, unbarring a huge house that stabled the Germans' horses, housed everyone, and on the second floor, behind a huge, polished door, was a bedroom with a feather mattress, a canopied bed, rugs, and the smell of old wood and fresh sheets. Sharpe closed the door, cutting off the sounds of his men who were sharing wine with the Germans, and looked at the girl.
'El Catolico's here.
She nodded. 'What did you expect?
He unbuckled his belt, untied the faded red sash, and knew that his shoulder was too stiff, too painful, for him to undress properly. Teresa saw it, pushed back the sheet, and he saw she was already naked. She crossed the floor, helped him, went back to the huge, soft bed with him. Sharpe lay flat and the girl propped herself beside him.
'What does he want?
'Later, Sharpe said. 'Later. His right arm was still good and he pulled the girl on top of him, felt her hair fall either side of his face, her hands explore the scars on his back. Her mouth was beside his ear.
'Can I keep the rifle?
'It's all yours, he said. 'All yours. And it was.
CHAPTER 19
Her finger pressed on the scars of the flogging. 'Who did it?
'A man called Morris, and a Sergeant. Hakeswill.
'Why?
He shrugged. 'They lied.
'You kill them?
'Not yet.
She nodded slowly. 'You will?
'I will. It was not yet dawn, but the sky had the grey luminance that came before first light, and Sharpe wanted to be at the telegraph early. He was reluctant to move, to lose the warm body, but others were stirring in the house and a cockerel, exploding into sound in the courtyard, jerked him upright. He lay back again, taking five more minutes, and pulled Teresa close.
'Did Hardy want you?
She smiled, said something in Spanish, and he assumed she was asking if he was jealous.
'No.
She wagged her head, seemed to shrug. 'Yes. He wanted me.
'And did you?
She laughed. 'No. Joaquim was too close.
Joaquim, damned Joaquim Jovellanos, El Catolico, Colonel and crook. The girl had told him, when they were lying hot and sweaty in the wide bed, of her father, of El Catolico, of the business of staying alive in the mountains when the enemy is everywhere and there is no law and no government. Her father, she said, was good, but weak.
'Weak? Sharpe had winced as he propped himself on an elbow.
'He was strong. Teresa still had problems with English and she shrugged helplessly.
Sharpe helped her. 'And El Catolico?
She smiled, pushed hair away from her eyes. 'He wants everything. My father's men, land, money, me. He's strong.