tea.
“Blame Dilly, sir, on account of him being a heathen bastard as black
as my new boots.”
“He’ll simply deny everything when questioned!” Torrance protested.
Hakeswill smiled.
“Won’t be in a position to deny anything, sir, will he? On account of
being .. .” He paused, stuck his tongue out, opened his eyes wide and
made a choking noise.
“Good God, Sergeant,” Torrance said, shuddering at the horrid picture
suggested by Hakeswill’s contorted face.
“Besides, he’s a good clerk!
It’s damned difficult to replace good men.”
“It’s easy, sir. Jama will give us a man. Give us a good man.”
Hakeswill grinned.
“It’ll make things much easier, sir, if we can trust the clerk as well
as each other.”
Torrance flinched at the thought of being in league with Obadiah
Hakeswill, yet if he was ever to pay off his debts he needed the
Sergeant’s cooperation. And Hakeswill was marvellously efficient. He
could strip the supplies bare and not leave a trace of his handiwork,
always making sure someone else took the blame. And doubtless the
Sergeant was right. If Jama could provide a clerk, then the clerk
could provide a false set of accounts. And if Dilip was blamed for the
late arrival of the pioneers’ stores, then Torrance would be off that
particularly sharp and nasty hook. As ever, it seemed as though
Hakeswill could find his way through the thorniest of problems.
Just leave it to me, sir,” Hakeswill said.
“I’ll look after everything, sir, I will.” He bared his teeth at Clare
who had brought his mug of tea.
“You’re the flower of womanhood,” he told her, then watched
appreciatively as she scuttled back to the kitchen.
“Her and me, sir, are meant for each other. Says so in the
scriptures.”
“Not till Sharpe’s dead,” Torrance said.
“He’ll be dead, sir,” Hakeswill promised, and the Sergeant shivered in
as he anticipated the riches that would follow that death. Not just
Clare Wall, but the jewels. The jewels! Hakeswill had divined that it
had been Sharpe who had killed the Tippoo Sultan in Seringapatam, and
Sharpe who must have stripped the ruler’s body of its diamonds and
emeralds and sapphires and rubies, and Sharpe, Hakeswill reckoned, was
still hiding those stones. From far away, dulled by the heat of the
day, came the sound of artillery firing. Gawilghur, Hakeswill thought,
where Sharpe should not reach, on account of Sharpe being Hakeswill’s
business, and no one else’s. I will be rich, the Sergeant promised
himself, I will be rich.
Colonel William Dodd stood on the southernmost battlements of Gawilghur
with his back against the parapet so that he was staring down into a
palace courtyard where Beny Singh had erected a striped pavilion.
Small silver bells that tinkled prettily in the small breeze were hung
from the pavilion’s fringed hem, while under the canopy a group of
musicians played the strange, long-necked stringed instruments which
made a music that, to Dodd’s ears, sounded like the slow strangulation
of cats. Beny Singh and a dozen pretty creatures in saris were playing
some form of Blind Man’s Buff, and their laughter rose to the ramparts,
making Dodd scowl, though if truth were told he was inordinately
jealous of Beny Singh. The man was plump, short and timid, yet he
seemed to work some magical spell on the ladies, while Dodd, who was
tall, hard and scarred to prove his bravery, had to make do with a
whore.
Damn the Killadar. Dodd turned sharply away and stared over the
heat-baked plain. Beneath him, and just far enough to the east to be
out of range of Gawilghur’s largest guns, the edge of the British
encampment showed. From this height the rows of dull white tents
looked like speckles. To the south, still a long way off, Dodd could
see the enemy baggage train trudgiilg towards its new encampment. It
was odd, he thought, that they should make the oxen carry their burdens
through the hottest part of the day. Usually the baggage marched just
after midnight and camped not long after dawn, but today the great herd
was stirring the dust into the broiling afternoon air and it looked,
Dodd thought, like a migrating tribe. There were thousands of oxen in