`Bugger, darling.’
`Ah! You kill the bugger Lavin, yes?’
Sharpe smiled. `He tried to kill me.’
Verigny shrugged. `You should kill him. I hate buggers.’
Montbrun hastened, with a courtier’s smoothness, to recommend the red wine which, though Spanish, had a certain plangency, he thought, which Major Sharpe might find pleasing. Major Sharpe, who was thirsty, found it very pleasing. He drank.
La Marquesa toasted him with her glass. `You should have more champagne, Richard.’
`I shall save it.’
`Why? There’s plenty!’ There was, too. The bottles of wine and champagne stood in ranks at the end of the table.
Montbrun poured a separate glass of champagne for Sharpe. `I hear it’s scarce in your country now, Major, because of the war.’
Sharpe, who had never drunk champagne in England, and only in Spain when he was with La Marquesa, agreed it was scarce.
`Indeed,’ Montbrun poured himself a glass, `I was told by an Englishman we took prisoner that you’re paying twenty-three shillings a bottle now in London! Twenty-three shillings! Why that’s nearly thirty francs a bottle!’
La Marquesa looked astonished and wondered how anyone could possibly live with prices like that, and asked why there were not riots in the street by a champagne-starved populace. What did the English drink instead?
`Beer, my Lady.’
Montbrun helped Sharpe to some cold ham and cold chicken. He apologized for such simple fare. The ham had been baked in a glaze of honey and mustard.
La Marquesa wanted some English beer and seemed unhappy that there was none immediately available in Burgos castle. General Verigny promised to find some. He grunted as he drew the corks of two more bottles of the red wine. `We have to drink it. We cannot take it with this bloody army.’
Montbrun frowned.
Sharpe smiled. `Bloody army?’
Verigny tossed back a glass of wine and poured himself another. `It is not an army, Major, not a true army. We are a – ` he paused, frowned, ‘un horde l ambulant?’
`I think you’ll find the terrine especially good, Major.’ Montbrun smiled. `You’ll allow me to cut you some bread?’
`A what?’ Sharpe asked.
`A walking brothel, Major.’ La Marquesa smiled brightly. `There do seem to be rather a lot of ladies with us. Especially since King Joseph joined us.’
`Allow me, Major.’ Montbrun put some of the terrine onto Sharpe’s plate. `More wine? Champagne, perhaps?’
`Wine.’
When the meal was over, and when the peel of oranges littered the table among grape-stalks and the rinds of cheeses, Major Montbrun brought the talk to Sharpe’s future. He took from the tail pocket of his gilt-encrusted jacket a folded sheet of paper.
`We’re most pleased to offer you parole.’ Montbrun smiled and put the paper in front of Sharpe. `General Verigny will count it an honour, Major, if you will let him provide you with all your necessities. A horse, your expenses.’ Montbrun shrugged as though the generous offer was a mere nothing.
`The General has done me enough honour already.’ Verigny, in addition to providing this room and Sharpe’s food, had given Sharpe a new razor, a change of shirt, new stockings, and even a fine new tinder box; all to replace the articles stolen from Sharpe since he fell into Ducos’ hands.
Sharpe opened the paper, not understanding the French words, but seeing his own name, misspelt, on the top line. He looked at Montbrun. `Is my name to be submitted for exchange?’
They must have expected the question. An officer was rarely kept as a prisoner of war if he was captured close to the battlelines. Montbrun frowned. `We fear not, Major.’
`May I ask why?’
`You have, Afsieu, a certain notoriety?’ Montbrun smiled. `It would be foolish of us to release so formidable a soldier to wreak further damage on our cause.’
It was a pretty enough compliment, but not the answer Sharpe wanted. If he was not to be exchanged, then he faced a journey to the frontier, where he would be released on his parole to make his unescorted way across France. Verigny, speaking eagerly, explained that it would be his pleasure to provide Sharpe with the means to stay only in the best hotels, that he would, indeed, furnish him with introductions and the Major would be welcome to linger on his journey north to savour the summer delights of France. `Take the entirely summer, Major. You can drink, there are women, there are more drink!’ He demonstrated by finishing his glass. Already, Sharpe noted, Verigny was slurring his words.