„And just what are we doing?” Sharpe wanted to know.
„Now that, Richard, is a very good question,” Hogan said. He helped himself to a pinch of snuff, paused, then sneezed violently. „God help me, but the doctors say it clears the bronchial tubes, whatever the hell they are. Now, as I see it, one of two things can happen.” He tapped the charcoal streak marking the Ponte Nova. „If the French are stopped at that bridge then most will surrender, they’ll have no choice. Some will take to the hills, of course, but they’ll find armed peasants all over the place looking for throats and other parts to cut. So we’ll either find Mister Christopher with the army when it surrenders or more likely he’ll run away and claim to be an escaped English prisoner. In which case we go into the mountains, find him and put him up against a wall.”
„Truly?”
„That worries you?”
„I’d rather hang him.”
„Ah, well, we can discuss the method when the time comes. Now the second thing that might happen, Richard, is that the French are not stopped at the Ponte Nova, in which case we need to reach the Saltador.”
„Why?”
„Think what it was like, Richard,” Hogan said. „A deep ravine, steep slopes everywhere, the kind of place where a few riflemen could be very vicious. And if the French are crossing the bridge then we’ll see him and your Baker rifles will have to do the necessary.”
„We can get close enough?” Sharpe asked, trying to remember the terrain about the leaping bridge.
„There are cliffs, high bluffs. I’m sure you can get within two hundred paces.”
„That’ll do,” Sharpe said grimly.
„So one way or another we have to finish him,” Hogan said, leaning back. „He’s a traitor, Richard. He’s probably not as dangerous as he thinks he is, but if he gets to Paris then no doubt the monsewers will suck his brain dry and so learn a few things we’d rather they didn’t know. And if he got back to London he’s slippery enough to convince those fools that he was always working for their interests. So all things considered, Richard, I’d say he was better off dead.”
„And Kate?”
„We’re not going to shoot her,” Hogan said reprovingly.
„Back in March, sir,” Sharpe said, „you ordered me to rescue her. Does that order still stand?”
Hogan stared at the ceiling which was smoke-blackened and pierced with lethal-looking hooks. „In the short time I’ve known you, Richard,” he said, „I’ve noticed you possess a lamentable tendency to put on shining armor and look for ladies to rescue. King Arthur, God rest his soul, would have loved you. He’d have had you fighting every evil knight in the forest. Is rescuing Kate Savage important? Not really. The main thing is to punish Mister Christopher and I fear that Miss Kate will have to take her chances.”
Sharpe looked down at the charcoal map. „How do we get to the Ponte Nova?”
„We walk, Richard, we walk. We cross the mountains and those tracks aren’t fit for horses. You’d spend half the time leading them, worrying about their feed, looking after their hooves and wishing you didn’t have them. Mules now, I’d saddle some mules and take them, but where will we find mules tonight? It’s either mules or shanks’s pony, but either way we can only take a few men, your best and your fittest, and we have to leave before dawn.”
„What do I do with the rest of my men?”
Hogan thought about it. „Major Potter could use them,” he suggested, „to help guard the prisoners here?”
„I don’t want to lose them back to Shorncliffe,” Sharpe said. He feared that the second battalion would be making inquiries about their lost riflemen. They might not care that Lieutenant Sharpe was missing, but the absence of several prime marksmen would definitely be regretted.
„My dear Richard,” Hogan said, „if you think Sir Arthur’s going to lose even a few good riflemen then you don’t know him half as well as you think. He’ll move hell and high water to keep you here. And you and I have to move like hell to get to Ponte Nova before anyone else.”