Sharpe's Gold

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.

Somewhere a door scraped on old hinges, boots crossed a yard, and Sharpe knew it was time to be up.

'And you?

Her hand felt his scars. 'We will fight. Ramon, me, Father. Joaquim only thinks of what happens afterwards.

'Afterwards?

'When there is peace.

'And you? Her hair had the smell of a woman and his hand rested on the long, muscled waist.

'I want to kill Frenchmen.

'You will.

'I know.

Now, looking at the sudden smile, he wished that she was not going. He could, he decided, be happy with this woman, but he laughed inside as he remembered he had thought the same of Josefina.

'What are you smiling for?

'Nothing.

He swung his legs out of bed, pulled up his crumpled clothes and put them on the bed. She pulled the jacket towards her, opened the pocket.

'What's this? A silver locket lay in her hand.

'A locket.

She hit him. 'I know. She opened it and, inside, saw the gold-haired girl with the generous mouth. 'Who's that?"

'Jealous?

She seemed to understand and laughed. 'Who is she?

'Jane Gibbons.

She imitated him. 'Jane Gibbons. Who is she? Is she waiting for you?

'No. I've never met her.

She looked at the face in the miniature painting. 'She's pretty. Never?

'Never.

'Why do you have it?

'I knew her brother.

'Ah. Friendship made sense to her. 'Is he dead?

'Yes.

'The French? She said the word with her customary spite.

'No.

She looked exasperated at his answers. 'Was he a soldier?

'Yes.

'Then how did he die?

Sharpe pulled on the French overalls. 'I killed him.

'You?

Sharpe paused. 'No. The Sergeant killed him. I killed the other one.

'What other one? She sat up, flinched as he pulled back the curtain.

Across the street was a church with ornate stonework and a laddered bell-tower. The soldier in Sharpe automatically understood that the church roof must have a platform for the ladder, a possible firing position.

'They were enemies. They hurt a friend.

She understood the half truth. 'A woman?

He nodded. 'Not mine. Another half truth, but by the time the two Lieutenants had died, Josefina had already found Hardy.

She laughed. 'You're a good man, Richard.

'I know.

He gri

'You'll come back?

'I'll be back. The soldiers are here; you're safe.

She leaned off the bed, pulled up the rifle. 'I'm safe.

He left her in the bedroom, feeling his loss, and went down to where the kitchen fire was blazing and Lossow was drinking beer from an earthenware bottle. The German Captain gri

'A good night, my friend?"

Knowles winced, Harper looked at the ceiling, but Sharpe growled something approximately polite and crossed to the fire. 'Tea?

'Here, sir. Harper pushed a mug over the table. 'Just wet it.

A dozen men of the Company were in the kitchen, and some Germans, and they were sawing with knives at the new bread and looking surprised because there were pots of butter, fresh butter, on the table. Sharpe scraped his boot on the hearth and his men looked up.

'The girl. He wondered if he sounded embarrassed, but the men seemed not to mind. 'Look after her till I get back.

They nodded, gri

Robert Knowles cleared his throat. 'When will you be back, sir?

'Three hours. An hour till the message could be sent, an hour for the reply to come, and then another hour unpicking the details with Cox. 'Keep an eye out for El Catolico. He's here. Keep a guard, Robert, all the time, and don't let anyone in, no one.

The men gri

'We surprise the Spanish, yes? They think they have the gold? But they don't know about the telegraph. Ah! The wonders of modern war.

It was cold in the street, the sky still dark grey, but as Sharpe, Lossow, and Harper mounted the final steps to the rampart of the castle they could see the eastern sky blazing with the coming sun. The telegraph was unma

The sun shattered the remnants of night, dazzled over the eastern hills, and streaked its bleak, early light into the countryside round Almeida. As if in salute there was a blare of bugles, shouts from the walls, and Lossow clapped Sharpe's good shoulder and pointed south.

'Look!

The bugles had responded to the first formal move of the siege. The waiting was over, and through his undamaged telescope Sharpe saw that the dawn light had revealed a mound of fresh earth that had been thrown up a thousand yards from the fortifications. It was the first French battery and, even as Sharpe watched, he saw the tiny figures of men throwing up more earth and battening great fascines to the crest of the mound. It had been years since he had carried a fascine to war, a great wicker cylinder that was filled with soil and provided an instant battlement to protect men and guns from enemy artillery. The Portuguese gu

Lossow pounded his fist on the ramparts. 'Fire! You bastards!

A Portuguese gun team on the town defences seemed to hear him, for there was the flat crack of a ca

'Next one.

He let the telescope lie where it was and straightened up. Over the roofs of the town he could see the smoke of the ca

'Bravo! Lossow clapped his hands. 'That's held them up for five minutes!

Sharpe picked up the telescope and pa

'We can do it.

The German looked at the road, smiled. 'It will be a pleasure.

There were footsteps on the circular stone stairway and the young midshipman, holding a thick sandwich, emerged on to the ramparts and looked startled to see the waiting men. He put his sandwich in his mouth, saluted, rescued his sandwich.

'Morning, sir.

He put down the pile of books he was carrying in his other hand.

'Morning. Sharpe guessed the boy was no older than fifteen. 'When do you start sending?

'When the messages get here, sir.

Sharpe pointed to the books. 'What's that?

'Lessons, sir. Principles of navigation. I've got to pass the exam soon, sir, even though I'm not at sea.

'You should join the Rifles, lad. Harper picked up the book. 'We don't stuff your head with mathematics.

Sharpe looked westwards. 'Where's the relay station?

The boy pointed north-west. 'Between the two hills, sir. It's over the river, on a church.

Sharpe pointed the glass, held it steady by jamming it next to the telegraph's mast and, far away, like a speck of dust, he could see the tiny telegraph station. 'How the hell do you read it?

'With this, sir. The boy unlocked a trunk that was part of the mast's foundation and dragged out an iron tripod that carried a telescope twice the size of Sharpe's. Lossow laughed.