Sharpe’s Havoc by Bernard Cornwell

„La Manche,” Vuillard said dryly, meaning the English Channel. He drew on his cigar. „You came to me,” he said, „with news of mutinv. But you never told me what you wanted in exchange. So tell me now, Englishman.”

„The port trade,” Christopher said, „I want the port trade.”

The simplicity of the answer made Vuillard check his pacing. „The port trade?”

„All of it. Croft, Taylor Fladgate, Burmester, Smith Woodhouse, Dow’s, Savages, Gould, Kopke, Sandeman, all the lodges. I don’t want to own them, I already own Savages, or I will soon, I just want to be the sole shipper.”

Vuillard took a few seconds to understand the scope of the demand. „You’d control half the export trade of Portugal!” he said. „You’d be richer than the Emperor!”

„Not quite,” Christopher said, „because the Emperor will tax me and I can’t tax him. The man who becomes impressively rich, General, is the man who levies the tax, not he who pays it.”

„You’ll still be wealthy.”

„And that, General, is what I want.”

Vuillard stared down at the black lawn. Someone was playing a harpsichord in the House Beautiful and there was the sound of women’s laughter. Peace, he thought, would eventually come and maybe this polished Englishman could help bring it about. „You’re not telling me the names I want,” he said, „and you’ve given me a list of British forces. But how do I know you’re not deceiving me?”

„You don’t.”

„I want more than lists,” Vuillard said harshly. „I need to know, Englishman, that you’re willing to give something tangible to prove that you’re on our side.”

„You want blood,” Christopher said mildly. He had been expecting the demand.

„Blood will do, but not Portuguese blood. British blood.”

Christopher smiled. „There is a village called Vila Real de Zedes,” he said, „where Savages have some vineyards. It has been curiously undisturbed by the conquest.” That was true, but only because Christopher had arranged it with Argenton’s colonel and fellow plotter whose dragoons were responsible for patrolling that stretch of country. „But if you send a small force there,” Christopher went on, „you will find a token unit of British riflemen. There are only a score of them, but they have some Portuguese troops and some rebels with them. Say a hundred men altogether? They’re yours, but in return I ask one thing.”

„Which is?”

„Spare the Quinta. It belongs to my wife’s family.”

A grumble of thunder sounded to the north and the cypresses were outlined by a flash of sheet lightning. „Vila Real de Zedes?” Vuillard asked.

„A village not far from the Amarante road,” Christopher said, „and I wish I could give you something more, but I offer what I can as an earnest of my sincerity. The troops there will give you no trouble. They’re led by a British lieutenant and he didn’t strike me as particularly resourceful. The man must be thirty if he’s a day and he’s still a lieutenant so he can’t be up to much.”

Another crackle of thunder made Vuillard look anxiously to the northern sky. „We must get back to quarters before the rain comes,” he said, but then paused. „It doesn’t worry you that you betray your country?”

„I betray nothing,” Christopher said, and then, for a change, he spoke truthfully. „If France’s conquests, General, are ruled only by Frenchmen then Europe will regard you as nothing but adventurers and exploiters, but if you share your power, if every nation in Europe contributes to the government of every other nation, then we will have moved into the promised world of reason and peace. Isn’t that what your Emperor wants? A European system, those were his words, a European system, a European code of laws, a European judiciary and one nation alone in Europe, Europeans. How can I betray my own continent?”

Vuillard grimaced. „Our Emperor talks a lot, Englishman. He’s a Corsican and he has wild dreams. Is that what you are? A dreamer?”

„I am a realist,” Christopher said. He had used his knowledge of the mutiny to ingratiate himself with the French, and now he would secure their trust by offering a handful of British soldiers as a sacrifice.

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