would suffer, not him, so it did not really matter. And what was
Sharpe anyway? Nothing but an upstart from the ranks, so who would
care if he died? Torrance killed another moth, then opened the kitchen
door.
“Come here, Brick.”
“No, sir, please?”
“Shut up. And come here. You can kill these damn moths while I get
drunk.”
Filthy drunk, he reckoned, for he had been scared today. He knew he
had very nearly got caught when Sharpe had stripped the tent away from
the purloined supplies, but by killing Naig quickly Torrance had
protected himself, and now the price of his continued survival was
Sharpe’s death. Arrange that, he thought, and all his troubles would
be past. He forced Brick to drink some arrack, knowing how she hated
it.
Then he drank some himself. Damn Sharpe to hell, he thought, damn the
interfering bastard to hell, which was where Sharpe was going anyway so
Torrance drank to that happy prospect. Farewell, Mister Sharpe.
CHAPTER 4
Sharpe was not sure how far away Deogaum was, but guessed it was close
to twenty miles and that was at least a seven-hour journey on foot, and
so it was long before dawn when he stirred Ahmed from his sleep beside
the smouldering remains of a bullock-dung fire, then set off under the
stars. He tried to teach Ahmed some English.
“Stars,” Sharpe said, pointing.
“Stars,” Ahmed repeated dutifully.
“Moon,” Sharpe said.
“Moon,” Ahmed echoed.
“Sky.”
“Moon?” Ahmed asked, curious that Sharpe was still pointing to the
sky.
“Sky, you bugger.”
“Skyoobugger?”
“Never mind,” Sharpe said. He was hungry, and he had forgotten to ask
Captain Torrance where he was supposed to draw rations, but their
northward route took them through the village of Argaum where the
fighting battalions of the army were bivouacked. Unburied bodies still
littered the battlefield, and scavenging wild dogs growled from the
dark stench as Sharpe and Ahmed walked past. A picquet challenged them
at the village, and Sharpe asked the man where he would find the
cavalry lines. He could not imagine taking Ahmed to the 74th’s mess
for breakfast, but Sergeant Eli Lockhart might be more welcoming.
The reveille had sounded by the time Sharpe came to the gully where the
horses were picketed and the troopers’ campfires were being restored to
life. Lockhart scowled at the unexpected visitor through the smoky
dawn gloom, then grinned when he recognized Sharpe.
“Must be some fighting to do, lads,” he announced, ‘the bleeding
infantry’s here. Good morning, sir. Need our help again?”
“I need some breakfast,” Sharpe admitted.
“Tea, that’ll start you off. Smithers! Pork chops! Davies! Some of
that bread you’re hiding from me. Look lively now!” Lockhart turned
back to Sharpe.
“Don’t ask me where the chops come from, sir. I might have to lie.” He
spat in a tin mug, scoured its interior with the end of his blanket,
then filled it with tea.
“There you are, sir. Does your boy want some?
Here you are, lad.” Lockhart, a mug of tea in his own hand, then
insisted on taking Sharpe to the picketed horses.
“See, sir?” He lifted a horse’s leg to show off the new horseshoe.
“My guvnor’s beholden to you. I might introduce you after
breakfast.”
Sharpe assumed that Lockhart was talking of his troop commander, but
once the pork chops and bread had been eaten, the Sergeant led Sharpe
across to the lines of the native cavalry, and then to the tent of the
7th Native Cavalry’s commanding officer who, it seemed, was in charge
of all the army’s cavalry.
“He’s called Huddlestone,” Lockhart said, ‘and he’s a decent fellow.
He’ll probably offer us another breakfast.”
Colonel Huddlestone did indeed insist that both Lockhart and Sharpe
join him for a breakfast of rice and eggs. Sharpe was beginning to see
that Lockhart was a useful man, someone who was trusted by his officers
and liked by his troopers, for Huddlestone greeted the Sergeant warmly
and immediately plunged into a conversation about some local horses
that had been purchased for remounts and which Huddlestone reckoned
would never stand the strain of battle, though Lockhart seemed to feel
that a few of them would be adequate.