sash, and that if he were to buy the usual appurtenances of an officer
a horse and a telescope and an expensive sword then he would be mocked
by those in the army who claimed he should never have been commissioned
in the first place. Nor should he, he thought. He had been happier as
a sergeant. Much happier. All the same, he wished he had a telescope
as he gazed up at the stronghold and saw a great billow of smoke jet
from one of the bastions. Seconds later he heard the fading boom of
the gun, but he saw no sign of the shot falling. It was as though the
cannonball had been swallowed into the warm air.
A mile short of the foothills the road split into three. The sepoy
horsemen went westwards, while the igth Light Dragoons took the right
hand path that angled away from the domineering fortress. The country
became more broken as it was cut by small gullies and heaped with low
wooded ridges thfe first hints of the tumultuous surge of land that
ended in the vast cliffs. Trees grew thick in those foothills, and
Deogaum was evidently among the low wooded hills. It lay east of
Gawilghur, safely out of range of the fortress’s guns. A crackle of
musketry sounded from a timbered cleft and the igth Dragoons, riding
ahead of Sharpe, spread into a line. Ahmed grinned and made sure his
musket was loaded. Sharpe wondered which side the boy was on.
Another spatter of muskets sounded, this time to the west. The
Mahrattas must have had men in the foothills. Perhaps they were
stripping the villages of the stored grain? The sepoys of the East
India Company cavalry had vanished, while the horsemen of the igth were
filing into the wooded cleft. A gun boomed in the fort, and this time
Sharpe heard a thump as a cannonball fell to earth like a stone far
behind him. A patch of dust drifted from a field where the shot had
plummeted, then he and Ahmed followed the dragoons into the gully and
the leaves hid them from the invisible watchers high above.
The road twisted left and right, then emerged into a patchwork of small
fields and woods. A large village lay beyond the fields Sharpe guessed
it must be Deogaum then there were shots to his left and he saw a crowd
of horsemen burst out of the trees a half-mile away. They were
Mahrattas, and at first Sharpe thought they were intent on charging the
igth Light Dragoons, then he realized they were fleeing from the
Company cavalry. There were fifty or sixty of the enemy horsemen who,
on seeing the blue-and-yellow-coated dragoons, swerved southwards to
avoid a fight. The dragoons were turning, drawing sabres and spurring
into pursuit. A trumpet sounded and the small fields were suddenly a
whirl of horses, dust and gleaming weapons.
Sharpe reined in among a patch of trees, not wanting to be at the
centre of a Mahratta cavalry charge. The enemy horse pounded past in a
blur of hooves, shining helmets and lance points. The Company cavalry
was still a quarter-mile behind when Ahmed suddenly kicked back his
heels and shot out of the hiding place to follow the Mahratta
cavalry.
Sharpe swore. The little bastard was running back to join the
Mahrattas. Not that Sharpe could blame him, but he still felt
disappointed. He knew he had no chance of catching Ahmed who had
unslung his musket and now rode up behind the rearmost enemy horseman.
That man looked round, saw Ahmed was not in British uniform, and so
ignored him. Ahmed galloped alongside, then swung his musket by its
barrel so that the heavy stock cracked into the Mahratta’s forehead.
The man went off the back of his horse as though jerked by a rope.
His horse ran on, stirrups flapping. Ahmed reined in, turned and
jumped down beside his victim. Sharpe saw the flash of a knife. The
sepoy cavalry was closer now, and they might think Ahmed was the enemy,
so Sharpe shouted at the boy to come back. Ahmed scrambled back into
his saddle and kicked his horse to the trees where Sharpe waited. He