Sharpes Gold   ::   Корнуэлл Бернард

If Richard Sharpe wanted to lead them to Paris they would go, blindly confident that he would see them through, and they had grinned when he had told them they were to march behind the enemy patrols, across the Coa, across the river Agueda — for Hogan had known that much — and then back again. But something in Sharpe's voice had been wrong; no one had said anything, but the knowledge was there that the Captain was worried. Harper had picked it up. He had marched alongside Sharpe as the road dropped towards the Coa, its surface still sticky from the rain.

'What's the problem, sir?

'There isn't one. Sharpe's tone had shut off the conversation, but he was remembering Hogan's final words. Sharpe had been pushing and probing, trying for information that Hogan was not giving. 'Why us? It sounds like a job for cavalry.

Hogan nodded. 'The cavalry tried, and failed. Kearsey says the country's not good for horses.

'But the French cavalry use it?

Another tired nod. 'Kearsey says you'll be all right. There was something constrained about Hogan's voice.

'You're worried about it."

Hogan spread his hands. 'We should have fetched the gold out days ago. The longer it's there, the riskier it gets.

There had been a fraction of silence in the room. The moth had burned its wings, was flapping on the table, and Sharpe crushed it. 'You don't think we'll succeed, do you. It was a statement, not a question.

Hogan looked up from the dead moth. 'No.

'So the war's lost? Hogan nodded. Sharpe flicked the moth on to the floor. 'But the General says there are other tricks up his sleeve. That this isn't the only hope.

Hogan's eyes were tired. 'He has to say that.

Sharpe had stood up 'So why the hell don't you send three bloody regiments in? Four. Send the bloody army! Make sure you get the gold."

'It's too far, Richard. There are no roads beyond Almeida. If we attract attention, then the French will be there before us. The regiments could never get across both rivers without a fight, and they'd be outnumbered. No. We're sending you.

And now he was climbing the tight bends of the border road, watching the dull horizon for the telltale gleam of a drawn enemy sabre, and marching in the knowledge that he was expected to fail. He hoped Major Kearsey, who waited for the Company in Almeida, had more faith, but Hogan had been diffident about the Major. Sharpe had probed again. 'Is he unreliable?

Hogan shook his head. 'He's one of the best, Richard, one of the very best. But he's not exactly the man we'd have chosen for this job.

He had refused to elaborate.