Sharpe's Regiment

Now it was polished. About the base of the Eagle was a laurel wreath. It seemed unfitting. Once those proud eyes and hooked beak and half-spread wings had been on a battlefield, and it still belonged there, not here, not with these fat, sweating, applauding people who stared and smiled and nodded at him as the staff was thrust towards him.

'Take it! Take it! the Prince Regent said.

Sharpe felt like a circus animal. He took it. He lowered the staff and he stared at the Eagle, no bigger than a di

'You must remind me of everything that happened! Just exactly! The Prince was struggling from the dais, coming towards Sharpe. 'I insist on everything, everything! Over supper! To Sharpe's horror the Prince, who, during his father's madness, was the Regent and acting monarch of England, put an arm about his shoulders and led him across the carpet. 'Every single small detail, Major Sharpe, in utter detail. To supper! Bring your bird! Oh yes, it's not every day we heroes meet. Come! Come!

Sharpe went to supper with a Prince.

There were twenty-eight courses in the supper, most of them lukewarm because the distance from the kitchens was so great. There was champagne, wine, and more champagne. The musicians still played.

The Prince of Wales was extraordinarily solicitous of Sharpe. He fed Sharpe's plate with morsels, encouraged his stories, chided when he thought Sharpe was being modest, and finally asked the Rifleman why he had come to England.

Sharpe took a breath and told him. He felt a small moment of pleasure, for he was doing what he had come to do; saving a Regiment. He saw some frowns about the table when he spoke of the missing Battalion, as if the subject was unfitting for such an evening, but the Prince was delighted. 'Some of my men are missing, eh? That won't do? Is Fe

A courtier was conducting the Secretary of State at War towards the Prince's table.

Lord Fe

The Prince demanded to know why Lord Fe

Fe

The Prince turned surprised eyes on Sharpe, then looked again to Lord Fe

'A paucity of recruits, sir.

'There were plenty of recruits! Sharpe said.

Lord Fe

The Prince was begi

'Missing, sir? Lord Fe

'Gone? Gone! Vanished into thin air, yes?

Fe

No authority, but influence. The Prince's brother, the Duke of York, commanded the army, while the War Office was run by politicians. The Prince Regent commanded nothing, though he had the massive power of patronage. Sharpe had tried, indeed had succeeded, in harnessing that influence, but Lord Fe

'Oh Lord! the Prince laughed. Everyone knew of the bad blood that existed between the Prince and the Duke of York, the army Commander in Chief. 'Freddie thinks the army belongs to him! The prospect of speaking to his brother was obviously hateful. 'So, Fe

'I fear not, sir.

The Prince turned his face that, extraordinarily, was thick with cream and powder, towards Sharpe. 'You hear that, Major? Lost in a welter of paperwork, eh?

Lord Fe

'Of course! The Prince beamed at Sharpe, then at Fe

Fe

'At the Rose Tavern.

'You will receive fresh orders tomorrow. Major Sharpe had tried to outflank Lord Fe

'Send him to Spain, you hear me! The Prince waved peremptorily at Fe

'Indeed, sir.

'Tell me, Major, was it not hot on the day we took the Eagle?

Lord John was making furious signs at Sharpe not to protest the word «we». Sharpe nodded. 'Very hot, sir.

'I do believe I remember it! Indeed, yes! Very hot! The Prince nodded at his companions. 'Very hot!

Sharpe wondered if the man, like his father, had lost his wits. He was speaking as if he had been there, in that valley of the Portina where the wounded sobbed for mercy. There had been small black snakes, Sharpe remembered, wriggling away from the grassfires. His mind seemed a whirl of black snakes, memories, and sudden shock because his journey had been useless. Lord Fe

The Prince nudged Sharpe and smiled again. 'We shocked them, Major, yes?

'Yes, sir.

'What a day, what a day! The Prince shook his head, sifting white powder from his hair into Sharpe's wine. 'Ah! A syllabub! Splendid! Serve the Major some. We have a French chef, Major. Did you know that?

It was four in the morning before Sharpe escaped. He had been invited to play whist, refused on the grounds that he did not know how, and he only managed to leave the Prince's company by promising to attend a levee in two days time.

He stood in the entrance of Carlton House in a mood of angry self-mockery. He had endured the flummery, the foolery, and he had failed. Lord Fe