Sharpe’s Fortress [181-011-4.2] By: Bernard Cornwell

British pursuit, but, twisting in his saddle, Dodd saw some infantry of

Gawilghur’s garrison standing on the fire step He also saw Manu Bappoo

who had out ridden the British pursuit and now gestured to Dodd from

the gate-tower’s turret.

Dodd told one of his men to hold his horse, then climbed the black

walls to the top fire step of the tower where he stopped in awed

astonishment at the view. It was like standing at the edge of the

world.

The plain was so far beneath and the southern horizon so far away that

there was nothing in front of his eyes but endless sky. This, Dodd

thought, was a god’s view of earth. The eagle’s view. He leaned over

the parapet and saw his guns struggling up the narrow road. They would

not reach the fort till long after nightfall.

“You were right, Colonel,” Manu Bappoo said ruefully.

Dodd straightened to look at the Mahratta prince.

“It’s dangerous to fight the British in open fields,” he said, ‘but

here .. . ?” Dodd gestured at the approach road.

“Here they will die, sahib.”

“The fort’s main entrance,” Bappoo said in his sibilant voice, ‘is on

the other side. To the north.”

Dodd turned and gazed across the roof of the central palace. He could

see little of the great fortress’s northern de fences though a long way

away he could see another tower like the one on which he now stood.

“Is the main entrance as difficult to approach as this one?” he asked.

I “No, but it isn’t easy. The enemy has to approach along a narrow

strip of rock, then fight through the Outer Fort. After that comes a

ravine, and then the Inner Fort. I want you to guard the inner

gate.”

Dodd looked suspiciously at Bappoo.

“Not the Outer Fort?” Dodd reckoned his Cobras should guard the place

where the British would attack. That way the British would be

defeated.

“The Outer Fort is a trap,” Bappoo explained. He looked tired, but the

defeat at Argaum had not destroyed his spirit, merely sharpened his

appetite for revenge.

“If the British capture the Outer Fort they will think they have won.

They won’t know that an even worse barrier waits beyond the ravine.

That barrier has to be held. I don’t care if the Outer Fort falls, but

we must hold the Inner. That means our best troops must be there.”

“It will be held,” Dodd said.

Bappoo turned and stared southwards. Somewhere in the heat-hazed

distance the British forces were readying to march on Gawilghur.

“I

thought we could stop them at Argaum,” he admitted softly.

Dodd, who had advised against fighting at Argaum, said nothing.

“But here,” Bappoo went on, ‘they will be stopped.”

Here, Dodd thought, they would have to be stopped. He had deserted

from the East India Company’s army because he faced trial and

execution, but also because he believed he could make a fortune as a

mercenary serving the Mahrattas. So far he had endured three defeats,

and each time he had led his men safe out of the disaster, but from

Gawilghur there would be no escape. The British would block every

approach, so the British must be stopped. They must fail in this high

place, and so they would, Dodd consoled himself. For nothing

imaginable could take this fort. He was on the world’s edge, lifted

into the sky, and for the redcoats it would be like scaling the very

heights of heaven.

So here, at last, deep inside India, the redcoats would be beaten.

Six. cavalrymen in the blue and yellow coats of the igth Light

Dragoons waited outside the house where Captain Torrance was said to be

billeted. They were under the command of a long-legged sergeant who

was lounging on a bench beside the door. The Sergeant glanced up as

Sharpe approached.

“I hope you don’t want anything useful out of the bastards,” he said

acidly, then saw that the shabby-uniformed Sharpe, despite wearing a

pack like any common soldier, also had a sash and a sabre. He

scrambled to his feet.

“Sorry, sir.”

Sharpe waved him back down onto the bench.

“Useful?” he asked.

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