‘Keep them out, Robert. Don’t let anyone, even the Major, inside the walls.’
His uniform was damp and uncomfortable and he unstrapped his sword and belts, and stripped naked.
‘Get that fire bigger! Use the thorns!’
Rifleman Jenkins draped Sharpe’s clothes on stones near the blaze and Sharpe stood shivering, a mug of tea held in his hands, and stared at the two hundred horsemen who were aiming for the oak groves where El Catolico and his men had spent the night. Sharpe looked up at the sky, saw the ragged clouds and knew that the storm had passed. Soon it would be hot, under a shadowless blue, and he wondered how much water the Company had.
‘Sergeant McGovern!’
‘Sir?’
‘Take six men down to the river with all the canteens. Fill them up.”
McGovern looked at Knowles, back to Sharpe. ‘We’ve already done it, sir. The Lieutenant sent us down.”
‘Oh.’ He looked at Knowles and growled an apology. ‘No one interfered with you?’
Knowles shook his head. ‘It’s as you said, sir. They’re guarding the ford, not the castle.’
‘Any food?’
Knowles sighed. He had half hoped, against all experience, that Sharpe’s morning temper would have been moderated by Teresa. ‘Just hard tack, sir. And not much of that.’
Sharpe swore, flung the dregs of tea far out towards the oak trees that sheltered El Catolico’s men.
‘Right! All weapons cleaned!’ He ignored the grumbles, turned and leaned against the rampart. Everyone was better for some sleep, a few hours between sentry duty, but there had not been time or opportunity in the night for the Company to check their weapons. The night had gone quietly. Some time after midnight the rain had stopped, though the wind still blew cold, and Harper had got a small fire going in the shelter of the broken tower, burning the thorn bushes that grew like weeds in the old courtyard. Teresa had been right. The fortress was approached by a single precipitous track, easy to defend, and El Catolico had left them in peace.
Scraps of wispy cloud cleared away from the rising sun, shadows stretched over the courtyard, and a touch of warmth came which soon would bake the earth dry and sap the Company of its small energy. Sharpe leaned over the rampart. The spate was well over, the water sinking, and the rocks ,that marked the ford had broken the surface and collected ragged bundles of twigs and debris that the sudden flood had scoured from the banks. He saw Kearsey leave the oak grove and head his borrowed horse towards the path which led to the castle.
Sharpe pulled on his clothes, still damp, and nodded towards the tower. ‘Keep the girl inside, Robert.’ Knowles nodded. Sharpe was pulling on a damp boot that refused to go over his heel bone. ‘Damn!’ It slipped on. ‘I’ll meet the Major outside. Inspect the weapons and get ready to move.’
‘Already?’ Knowles seemed surprised.
‘Can’t stay here forever.’ Sharpe buttoned his jacket, picked up his sword. I’ll go and give Major Kearsey the good news.’
Sharpe walked briskly down the slope and waved cheerfully at Kearsey. ‘Morning, sir! A nice one!’
Kearsey reined his horse, stared down at Sharpe with unfriendly eyes. ‘What have you done, Sharpe?’
Sharpe stared up at the small Major who was silhouetted by the sun. He had expected anger, but not at him: he had expected Kearsey to be disillusioned at the Partisans and instead the Major’s opening words, spoken with a suppressed rage, were spat at Sharpe. He replied quietly.
‘I’ve brought the gold, sir, nearly all of it, as I was ordered.’
Kearsey nodded impatiently, as if it were the answer he expected. ‘You kidnapped the girl, locked up our allies; you have disobeyed my orders; you have turned men who fought for us into men who simply want to kill you.’ He paused, taking breath, but Sharpe interrupted.
‘And the men who killed Captain Hardy?’
Kearsey seemed to slump on his pommel. He stared at Sharpe.
‘What?’
‘El Catolico killed him. Stabbed him in the back. He’s buried beneath a manure-heap in the village.’ Teresa had told him the story during the night. ‘He found El Catolico moving the gold. It seems he made a protest. So they killed him. You were saying, sir?’