the flogging had taken far more from the Private than he realized. ‘I still think Mrs Bickerstaff should go back to the army,’ he said gently.
‘She can’t,’ Sharpe said curtly. ‘Tell him, Mary.’
Mary ran to catch up. Tm not safe while Hakeswill’s alive,’ she told Lawford.
‘You could have been looked after,’ Lawford suggested vaguely.
‘Who by?’ Mary asked. ‘A man looks after a woman in the army and he wants his price. You know that, sir.’
‘Call him Bill!’ Sharpe snarled. ‘Our lives might depend on it! If one of us calls him “sir” then they’ll feed us to their bloody tigers.’
‘And it isn’t just Hakeswill,’ Mary went on. ‘Sergeant Green wants to marry me now, which is at least more than Hakeswill does, but I don’t want either. I just want to be left in peace with Richard.’
‘God knows,’ Lawford said bitterly, ‘but you’ve probably jumped out of the frying pan into the fire.’
Til take my chances,’ Mary said obstinately, though she had taken what care she could to reduce her chances of being raped. She had dressed herself in a torn dark frock and a filthy apron, both garments as drab and greasy as she could find. She had smeared ashes and dirt into her hair, but she had done nothing to disguise the lively beauty in her face. ‘Besides,’ she said to Lawford, ‘neither you nor Richard speak any of the languages. You need me. And I brought some more food.’ She hoisted the cloth bundle.
Lawford grunted. Behind them the horizon was now marked with a pale glow that silhouetted trees and bushes. He guessed they had travelled about a dozen miles and, as the pale glow turned brighter and the dawn’s light seeped across the landscape, he suggested they stop and rest. Mary’s bundle held a half-dozen loaves of flat unleavened bread and had two canteens of water which they shared as their
breakfast. After he had eaten, Lawford went into the bushes for privacy and, as he came back, he saw Sharpe hit Mary hard in the face. ‘For God’s sake, man,’ Lawford shouted, ‘what are you doing?’
‘Blacking my eye,’ Mary answered. ‘I asked him to.’
‘Dear God!’ Lawford said. Mary’s left eye was already swelling, and tears were running down her cheeks. ‘Whatever for?’
‘Keep the buggers off her, of course,’ Sharpe said. ‘Are you all right, love?’
‘I’ll live,’ Mary said. ‘You hit hard, Richard.’
‘No point in hitting softly. Didn’t mean to hurt you, though.’
Mary splashed water on her eye, then they all started walking again. They were now in an open stretch of country that was dotted with groves of bright-blossomed trees. There were no villages in sight, though they did come to an aqueduct an hour after dawn and wasted another hour trying to find a way across before simply plunging into the weed-filled water and wading through. Seringapatam lay well below the horizon, but Lawford knew the city was almost due west and he planned to angle southwards until he reached the Cauvery and then follow that river to the city.
The Lieutenant’s spirits were low. He had volunteered for this mission readily enough, but in the night it had begun to dawn on him just how risky the errand was. He felt lonely too. He was only two years older than Sharpe and he envied Sharpe Mary’s companionship, and he still resented the Private’s lack of deference. He did not dare express that resentment, for he knew it would be scorned, but nor did he really wish to express it, for he had discovered that he wanted Sharpe’s admiration rather than his deference. Lawford wanted to prove that he was as tough as the Private, and that desire kept him stoically walking on towards the horrid unknown.
Sharpe was equally worried. He liked Lawford, but suspected he would have to work hard to keep the Lieutenant out of trouble. He was a quick study, the Lieutenant, but so ignorant of the world’s ways that he could easily betray the fact that he was no common soldier. As for the Tippoo, he was an unknown danger, but Sharpe was canny enough to know that he would have to do whatever the Tippoo’s men wanted. He worried about Mary too. He had persuaded her to come on this fool’s errand, and she had not taken much persuading, but now she was here Sharpe was concerned that he could not protect both her and Lawford. But despite his worries he still felt free. He was, after all, off the army’s leash and he reckoned he could survive so long as Lawford made no mistake, and if Sharpe survived he knew how to prosper. The rules were simple: trust no one, be ever watchful and if trouble came hit first and hit hard. It had worked for him so far.