The big guns were only three hundred paces from the village’s thick wall and each shot pulverized the mud bricks and started great clouds of red dust that billowed thick as gunsmoke. Wellesley summoned the survivors of the 74th and a Madrassi battalion and lined them both up behind the guns.
“They won’t stand, Wallace,” Wellesley said to the 74th’s commander.
“We’ll give them five minutes of artillery, then your fellows can take the place.”
“Allow me to congratulate you, sir,” Wallace said, taking a hand from his reins and holding it towards the General.
“Congratulate me?” Wellesley asked with a frown.
“On a victory, sir.”
“I suppose it is a victory.
“Pon my soul, so it is. Thank you, Wallace.”
The General leaned across and shook the Scotsman’s hand.
“A great victory,” Wallace said heartily, then climbed out of his saddle so that he could lead the 74th into the village.
McCandless joined him.
“You don’t mind if I come, Wallace?”
“Glad of your company, McCandless. A great day, is it not?”
“The Lord has been merciful to us,” McCandless agreed.
“Praise His name.”
The guns ceased, their smoke drifted northwards and the dying sun shone on the broken walls. There were no defenders visible, nothing but dust and fallen bricks and broken timbers.
“Go, Wallace!” Wellesley called, and the 74th’s lone piper hoisted his instrument and played the redcoats and the sepoys forward. The other battalions watched. Those other battalions had fought all afternoon, they had destroyed an army, and now they sprawled beside the Juah and drank its muddy water to slake their powder-induced thirst. None crossed the river, only a handful of cavalry splashed through the water to chase the laggard fugitives on the farther bank.
Major Blackiston brought Wellesley a captured standard, one of a score that had been abandoned by the fleeing Mahrattas.
“They left all their guns too, sir, every last one of them!”
Wellesley acknowledged the standard with a smile.
“I’d rather you brought me some water, Blackiston. Where are my canteens?”
“Sergeant Sharpe still has them, sir,” Campbell answered, holding his own canteen to the General.
“Ah yes, Sharpe.” The General frowned, knowing there was unfinished business there.
“If you see him, bring him to me.”
“I will, sir.”
Sharpe was not far away. He had walked north through the litter of the Mahratta battle line, going to where the guns fired on the village and, just as they stopped, so he saw McCandless walking behind the 74th as it advanced on the village. He hurried to catch up with the Colonel and was rewarded with a warm smile from McCandless.
“Thought I’d lost you, Sharpe.”
“Almost did, sir.”
“The General released you, did he?”
“He did, sir, in a manner of speaking. We ran out of horses, sir. He had two killed.”
“Two! An expensive day for him! It sounds as if you had an eventful time!”
“Not really, sir,” Sharpe said.
“Bit confusing, really.”
The Colonel frowned at the blood staining the light infantry insignia on Sharpe’s left shoulder.
“You’re wounded, Sharpe.”
“A scratch, sir. Bastard with sorry, sir man with a tulwar tried to tickle me.”
“But you’re all right?” McCandless asked anxiously.
“Fine, sir.” He raised his left arm to show that the wound was not serious.
“The day’s not over yet,” McCandless said, then gestured at the village.
“Dodd’s there, Sharpe, or he was. I’m glad you’re here. He’ll doubtless try to escape, but Sevajee’s on the far side of the river and between us we might yet trap the rogue.”
Sergeant Obadiah Hakeswill was a hundred paces behind McCandless.
He too had seen the Colonel following the 74th and now Hakeswill followed McCandless, for if McCandless wrote his letter, then Hakeswill knew his sergeantcy was imperilled.
“It ain’t that I like doing it,” he said to his men as he stalked after the Colonel, ‘but he ain’t giving me a choice. No choice at all. His own fault. His own fault.” Three of his men were following him, the others had refused to come.
A musket fired from Assaye’s rooftops, showing that not all the defenders had fled. The ball fluttered over Wallace’s head and the Colonel, not wanting to expose his men to any other fire that might come from the village, shouted at his men to double.