JК
Sharpes Siege :: Корнуэлл Бернард
Страница: 85 из 223“How the hell do you know that?”
“I took care to look up the respective pages before we left, sir.”
“Jesus. I should have done that!” Sharpe snatched up his shako and led the way downstairs. “But he’s commanding the Vengeance. That gives Post and makes him a full Colonel!”
“He’s not on board,” Frederickson said persuasively, “and the Vengeance is a half mile offshore. If he commands anything, it’s the Scylla, and frigates aren’t Post.”
Sharpe shrugged. The quibble seemed dubious grounds for taking command from Bampfylde.
Frederickson clattered down the stairs behind Sharpe. “And may I remind you of the next paragraph?”
“You’re going to anyway.” Sharpe pushed open a door and went into the pitiless cold of the courtyard. The air stung his cheeks and brought tears to his eyes.
“”Nothing in these regulations is to authorize any Land Officer to command any of His Majesty’s Squadrons or Ships, nor any Sea Officer to command on Land.“‘ Frederickson paused, raised his heel, and slammed it down on the iced cobbles. ”Land, sir.“
Sharpe stared at Frederickson. The carpenter’s mauls sounded like small cannons thumping to increase the throbbing agony of his skull. “I don’t give a damn, William, if they hang Killick. The bloody Americans shouldn’t be butting into this bloody war anyway, and I don’t give a tuppenny damn if we hang every mother’s son of them. But you gave your word?”
“I did, sir.”
“So I give a damn that your word’s kept.”
Sharpe did not bother to knock on Bampfylde’s door, instead he kicked it in and the crack of the swinging wood slamming against the wall made Captain Bampfylde jump in alarm.
This time there were two Rifle officers, both scarred, both with faces harder than rifle butts, and both displaying an anger that was chilling in the fire-heated room.
Sharpe ignored Bampfylde. He crossed the room and stooped to the fallen men who had been further punched and kicked since Frederickson had left. Sharpe straightened and looked at the bo’sun. “Untie them.”
“Major Sharpe…” Bampfylde began, but Sharpe turned on him.
“You will oblige me, Captain Bampfylde, by not interfering with my exercise of command on land.”
Bampfylde understood instantly. He knew a quotation from the Regulations and he knew a lost battle. But a battle was not a campaign. “These men are the Navy’s prisoners.”
“These men were captured by the Army, on land, where they were fighting as auxiliaries to the Imperial French Army.” Sharpe was making it up as he went along.
“I took care to look up the respective pages before we left, sir.”
“Jesus. I should have done that!” Sharpe snatched up his shako and led the way downstairs. “But he’s commanding the Vengeance. That gives Post and makes him a full Colonel!”
“He’s not on board,” Frederickson said persuasively, “and the Vengeance is a half mile offshore. If he commands anything, it’s the Scylla, and frigates aren’t Post.”
Sharpe shrugged. The quibble seemed dubious grounds for taking command from Bampfylde.
Frederickson clattered down the stairs behind Sharpe. “And may I remind you of the next paragraph?”
“You’re going to anyway.” Sharpe pushed open a door and went into the pitiless cold of the courtyard. The air stung his cheeks and brought tears to his eyes.
“”Nothing in these regulations is to authorize any Land Officer to command any of His Majesty’s Squadrons or Ships, nor any Sea Officer to command on Land.“‘ Frederickson paused, raised his heel, and slammed it down on the iced cobbles. ”Land, sir.“
Sharpe stared at Frederickson. The carpenter’s mauls sounded like small cannons thumping to increase the throbbing agony of his skull. “I don’t give a damn, William, if they hang Killick. The bloody Americans shouldn’t be butting into this bloody war anyway, and I don’t give a tuppenny damn if we hang every mother’s son of them. But you gave your word?”
“I did, sir.”
“So I give a damn that your word’s kept.”
Sharpe did not bother to knock on Bampfylde’s door, instead he kicked it in and the crack of the swinging wood slamming against the wall made Captain Bampfylde jump in alarm.
This time there were two Rifle officers, both scarred, both with faces harder than rifle butts, and both displaying an anger that was chilling in the fire-heated room.
Sharpe ignored Bampfylde. He crossed the room and stooped to the fallen men who had been further punched and kicked since Frederickson had left. Sharpe straightened and looked at the bo’sun. “Untie them.”
“Major Sharpe…” Bampfylde began, but Sharpe turned on him.
“You will oblige me, Captain Bampfylde, by not interfering with my exercise of command on land.”
Bampfylde understood instantly. He knew a quotation from the Regulations and he knew a lost battle. But a battle was not a campaign. “These men are the Navy’s prisoners.”
“These men were captured by the Army, on land, where they were fighting as auxiliaries to the Imperial French Army.” Sharpe was making it up as he went along.