the smoke and scattered the little scraps of black ash that rose from
the small fires.
“And Jama, sir, being a gentleman, despite being an heathen bastard
blackamoor, added a thankee,” Hakeswill said, putting some gold coins
on the table.
“How much?”
“Seven hundred rupees there, sir.”
“He gave us more, I know that. You’re cheating me, Sergeant.”
“Sir!” Hakeswill straightened indignantly.
“On my life, sir, and I speak as a Christian, I ain’t ever cheated a
soul in my life, sir, not unless they deserved it, in which case they
gets it right and proper, sir, like it says in the scriptures.”
Torrance stared at Hakeswill.
“Jama will be back in the camp in a day or two. I can ask him.”
“And you will find, sir, that I have treated you foursquare and
straight, sir, on the nail, sir, on the drumhead, as one soldier to
another.”
Hakeswill sniffed.
“I’m hurt, sir.”
Torrance yawned.
“You have my sincerest, deepest and most fervent apologies, Sergeant.
So tell me about Sharpe.”
Hakeswill glanced at the punk ah boy.
“Does that heathen speak English, sir?”
“Of course not.”
“Sharpie’s no more, sir.” Hakeswill’s face twitched as he remembered
the pleasure of kicking his enemy.
“Stripped the bastard naked, sir, gave him a headache he won’t ever
forget, not that he’s got long to remember anything now on account of
him being on his way to meet his executioner, and I kept him trussed up
till Jama’s men came to fetch him. Which they did, sir, so now he’s
gone, sir. Gone for bleeding ever, just as he deserves.”
“You stripped him?” Torrance asked, puzzled.
“Didn’t want the bastards dropping off a body all dressed up in an
officer’s coat, sir, even though the little bleeder should never have
worn one, him being nothing more than a jumped-up dribble of dried toad
spittle sir. So we stripped him and burned the uniform, sir.”
“And nothing went wrong?”
Hakeswill’s face twitched as he shrugged.
“His boy got away, but he didn’t make no trouble. Just vanished.
Probably went back to his mummy.”
Torrance smiled. All was done, all was solved. Even better, he could
resume his trade with Jama, though perhaps with a little more
circumspection than in the past.
“Did Sajit go with Sharpe?” he asked, knowing he would need an
efficient clerk if he was to hide the treacherous transactions in the
ledger.
“No, sir. He’s with me, sir, outside, sir.” Hakeswill jerked his head
towards the front room.
“He wanted to go, sir, but I gave him a thumping on account of us
needing him here, sir, and after that he was as good as gold, sir, even
if he is an heathen bit of scum.”
Torrance smiled.
“I am vastly in your debt, Sergeant Hakeswill,” he said.
“Just doing my duty, sir.” Hakeswill’s face twitched as he grinned and
gestured towards the garden window.
“And hoping for a soldier’s reward, sir.”
“Brick, you mean?” Torrance asked.
“Me heart’s desire, sir,” Hakeswill said hoarsely.
“Her and me, sir, made for each other. Says so in the scriptures.”
“Then the fruition of the prophecy must wait a while,” Torrance said,
‘because I need Brick to look after me, and your duty, Sergeant, is to
assume Mister Sharpe’s responsibilities. We shall wait till someone
notices that he’s missing, then claim that he must have been ambushed
by Mahrattas while on his way here. Then you’ll go up the mountain to
help the engineers.”
“Me, sir?” Hakeswill sounded alarmed at the prospect of having to do
some real work.
“Up the mountain?”
“Someone has to be there. You can’t expect me to do it!” Torrance
said indignantly.
“Someone must stay here and shoulder the heavier responsibilities. It
won’t be for long, Sergeant, not for long. And once the campaign is
over I can assure you that your heart’s desires will be fully met.” But
not, he decided, before Hakeswill paid him the money Clare owed for her
passage out from England. That money could come from the cash that
Jama had given Hakeswill this night which, Torrance was sure, was a
great deal more than the Sergeant had admitted.
“Make yourself ready, Sergeant,” Torrance ordered.