bcornwell.sharpescompany-第37部分

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　Sharpe　nodded　and　held　out　his　hand。　It　was　no　musket　bullet。　The　grey　ball　was　just　half　an　inch　across　and　Sharpe　remembered　the　fore…shortened　yellow　flame。　The　seven…barreled　gun　used　half…inch　bullets。　'Doctor？'
　
　'Sharpe？'
　
　'The　other　wound。　Is　the　bullet　still　in？'
　
　'No。'　The　doctor　was　wiping　his　hands　on　his　apron；　already　stiff　with　blood。　It　was　the　mark　of　seniority　in　his　profession。　'Straight　through；　Sharpe；　all　it　did　was　break　the　skin。　Here。　'　He　held　out　a　tumbler　of　brandy。
　
　Sharpe　drank　it　and　leaned　back　on　the　table　while　the　orderly　washed　and　bandaged　his　leg。　He　felt　no　particular　anger　that　Hakeswill　had　tried　to　kill　him；　merely　a　curiosity　and　a　thankfulness　that　he　had　survived。　He　was　certainly　not　shocked。　Had　he　been　holding　the　volley　gun；　and　had　he　seen　Hakeswill；　he　would　have　pulled　the　trigger　and　sent　the　Sergeant　spinning　to　the　devil；　and　all　without　a　second　thought。　He　looked　at　the　doctor。　'What's　the　time；　sir？'
　
　'Dawn；　Sharpe；　dawn。　An　Easter　dawn；　when　all　men　should　rejoice。'　He　sneezed　violently。　'You　should　take　things　gently。'
　
　'Yes；　sir。'　He　swung　his　legs　off　the　table　and　pulled　on　the　cavalry　overalls。　There　was　a　neat　hole　in　the　leather　reinforcements　of　the　right　inner　thigh　where　the　bullet　had　entered。　The　doctor　looked　at　the　hole　and　laughed。
　
　'Three　inches　higher　and　you'd　have　been　the　last　of　your　line。'
　
　'Yes；　sir。'　Very　droll。　He　tested　his　weight　and　found　his　leg　could　take　it。　
　
　'Thank　you；　sir。'
　
　'For　nothing；　Sharpe；　except　my　small　skill　and　humble　duty。　Half　a　bottle　of　rum　and　you'll　be　skipping　like　a　lamb。　A　credit　to　the　Medical　Board　and　the　Apothecary　General　whose　obedient　servant　I　am。'　He　pulled　open　the　flap　of　his　tent。　'e　and　see　me　if　you　ever　need　a　limb　removed。'
　
　'I　shall　see　no　one　else；　sir。'
　
　The　troops　had　stood　down　from　the　morning　alert；　had　piled　arms；　and　were　finishing　meager　breakfasts。　The　guns　were　hard　at　work；　firing　now　at　the　Santa　Maria　bastion　as　well　as　the　Trinidad；　and　Sharpe　imagined　the　smoke　lying　over　the　lake。　Damn　the　powder！　The　amount　of　powder　needed　had　been　grossly　under…estimated　otherwise　Sharpe；　Harper　and　the　Riflemen　would　be　heroes　this　morning。　As　it　was　they　were　pariahs。　Trouble　was　brewing；　Sharpe　could　smell　it。　The　night's　failure　needed　scapegoats。
　
　Bells　clamored　from　the　city。　Easter。　Sharpe　limped　towards　his　shelter　and；　to　his　right；　saw　a　group　of　Portuguese　or　Spanish　women；　followers　of　the　army；　picking　small；　white　flowers　from　a　ditch　bank。　Spring　was　softening　the　landscape。　Soon　it　would　open　the　roads　and　the　rivers　to　the　French　armies　and　Sharpe　wondered　if　it　was　his　imagination　or　were　the　guns　today　firing　at　a　faster　tempo？　Pounding　at　a　city　that　the　British　must　take　if　they　were　to　carry　the　war　into　the　heart　of　Spain。　The　guns　of　Badajoz　could　be　heard　by　the　troops　far　to　the　north；　at　Alcantara　and　Caceres；　and　east　at　Merida；　where　British　outposts　stared　down　the　empty　roads　waiting　for　a　French　relief　army　and　listened　to　the　growl　of　the　distant　thunder。　The　guns。　They　dominated　the　Easter　service；　wrenching　the　thoughts　of　the　people　in　the　cathedral　away　from　the　celebrations。　The　High　Altar　was　resplendent　in　a　white　and　gold　facing；　the　Virgin　draped　in　gorgeous；　bejeweled　robes；　but　the　sound　of　the　guns　started　dust　from　the　high；　gold…painted　cornice　that　circled　the　Cathedral's　interior；　sifted　it　down　past　the　Stations　of　the　Gross；　and　the　women　prayed；　told　their　beads；　and　the　guns　foretold　a　bloody　assault。　Badajoz　knew　what　was　to　e；　the　city　had　a　long　memory　of　other　sieges　when　Moors　and　Christians　had　taken　turns　to　massacre　the　inhabitants。　Be　with　us　now　and　in　the　hour　of　our　need。
　
　'Sharpe！'　Major　Collett；　tired　and　irascible；　gestured　from　Windham's　tent。
　
　'Sir？'
　
　'How's　the　leg？'　The　question　was　grudging。
　
　'It　hurts。'
　
　Collett　offered　no　sympathy。　〃The　Colonel　wants　you。'
　
　The　light　was　yellowed　inside　the　tent；　the　canvas　giving　Windham's　face　a　tint　of　jaundice。　He　nodded　at　Sharpe；　not　unfriendly；　and　gestured　at　a　wooden　crate。　'You'd　better　sit。'
　
　'Thank　you；　sir。'　The　leg　was　shooting　pain　into　his　groin。　He　was　hungry。
　
　Collett　came　in　behind　Sharpe　and　pulled　the　flap　shut。　The　Major　was　short　enough　to　stand　upright　beneath　the　ridgepole。　For　a　few　seconds　there　was　silence　and　it　struck　Sharpe；　suddenly；　that　Windham　was　embarrassed。　He　felt　a　sympathy　for　the　Colonel。　It　was　not　Windham's　fault　that　Rymer　had　purchased　the　mission；　it　was　not　his　choice　to　follow　Lawford；　and　Windham；　in　the　little　Sharpe　knew　of　him；　seemed　a　decent　enough　man。　He　looked　up　at　the　Colonel。　'Sir？'
　
　The　word　broke　the　silence。　Windham　gestured　irritably。　'Last　night；　Sharpe。　A　pity。'
　
　'Yes；　sir。'　Whatever　the　Colonel　meant　by　a　pity。　The　dam　not　being　broken？　
　
　Matthews'　death？
　
　'The　General's　disappointed。　Not　with　us。　We　did　our　job。　We　got　the　powder　to　the　dam；　we　blew　it　up；　and　there　wasn't　enough　damn　powder。　It's　the　Engineers　to　blame；　not　us。'
　
　'Yes；　sir。'　Sharpe　knew　that　Windham　was　beating　round　a　very　thorny　bush。　He　had　not　brought　Sharpe　into　the　tent　to　tell　him　this。　Collett　gave　a　pointed　cough　and　the　Colonel　cleared　his　throat。
　
　'It　seems　there　was　chaos　at　the　dam；　Sharpe；　is　that　right？'
　
　The　word　must　have　e　from　Captain　Rymer；　Sharpe　thought；　so　he　shrugged。　'Night　attacks　are　prone　to　confusion；　sir。'
　
　'I　know　that；　Sharpe；　I　know　that。　God　damn　it；　man；　I　wasn't　breeched　yesterday！'　The　Rifleman　made　Windham　nervous；　the　Colonel　remembered　his　first　meeting；　back　in　Elvas；　when　he　had　felt　the　same　reluctance　to　ride　straight　at　the　fence。　He　glared　at　Sharpe。　'I　sent　you　to　bring　me　back　news；　nothing　else；　is　that　right？'
　
　'Yes；　sir。'
　
　'Instead　of　which　you　usurped　Rymer's　authority；　organized　an　attack；　stirred　up　the　French；　and　had　one　of　my　officers　killed。'
　
　Sharpe　could　sense　his　own　anger　flaring　and　he　fought　it。　He　ignored　the　reference　to　Matthews。　'Stirred　up　the　French；　sir？'
　
　'Damn　it；　man；　you　fired　at　them！'
　
　'Captain　Rymer　told　you　that；　sir？'
　
　'I'm　not　here　to　argue　with　you！　Did　you　or　didn't　you？'
　
　'I　returned　their　fire；　sir。'
　
　Silence。　Rymer　had　obviously　told　a　different　story。　Windham　glanced　at　Collett；　who　shrugged。　Both　men　believed　Sharpe；　but　Rymer's　authority　had　to　be　backed　up。　Windham　changed　tack。　'But　nevertheless　you　disobeyed　my　orders？'
　
　'Yes；　sir。'
　
　Silence　again。　Windham　had　not　expected　the　answer；　or　perhaps　he　had　expected　excuses；　and　Sharpe　had　made　a　simple　admission　of　disobedience。　But　to　ask　the　reason　why；　was　to　invite　a　criticism　of　Rymer　that　the　Colonel　did　not　want　to　hear。　He　looked　at　Sharpe。　The　Rifleman　seemed　so　damned　confident。　He　sat　there；　seemingly　unworried；　the　strong；　scarred　face　spoke　of　a　petence　and　trustworthiness　that　disarmed　the　Colonel。　Windham　shook　his　head。　'Damn　it；　Sharpe；　Rymer's　in　an　impossible　position。　He's　trying　to　establish　his　authority　over　a　pany　and　he's　finding　it　difficult　while　you're　on　his　heels。'
　
　Collett　stirred；　perhaps　disapprovingly；　but　Sharpe　nodded　slowly。　'Yes；　sir。'
　
　'The　rifles；　for　instance。'
　
　Sharpe　felt　a　flicker　of　alarm。　'The　rifles；　sir？'
　
　Collett　broke　in；　his　voice　harsh；　'Rymer's　opinion　is　that　they　led　to　our　casualties　last　night。　They're　too　slow　to　load　and　last　night　they　let　us　down。　Muskets　would　have　been　faster；　more　effective。'
　
　Sharpe　nodded。　'True；　but　that　was　only　last　night。'
　
　'And　that's　only　your　opinion。　Rymer　disagrees。　'　Collett　paused。　'And　Rymer　has　the　pany。'
　
　'Which　he　must　run　as　he　sees　fit。'　Windham　took　up　from　Collett。　'Which　means　the　rifles　must　go。'
　
　Sharpe's　voice；　for　the　first　time；　rose。　'We　need　more　rifles；　sir；　not　less。'
　
　'Which　is　what　I　am　talking　about！〃　Windham's　voice　rose　as　well。　'You　cannot　run　the　Light　pany。　One　man　must　do　it！'
　
　Which　was　Rymer。　Sharpe's　anger　subsided。　He　was　being　punished　not　for　his　own　failure；　but　for　Rymer's　and　all　three　men　knew　it。　He　forced　a　rueful　smile。　'Yes；　sir。'
　
　Silence　again。　Sharpe　could　feel　that　there　was　one　more　thing　to　be　said；　one　thing　the　Colonel　was　shying　from；　and　he　had　had　enough。　He　would　make　it　easy；　get　the　damned　interview　over。　'So　what　happens　now；　sir？'
　
　'Happens？　We　go　on；　Sharpe；　we　go　on！'　Windham　was　avoiding　the　answer；　but　then　he　plunged　in。　'Major　Hogan　talked　to　us。　He　was　upset。'　The　Colonel　paused。　He　had　plunged　in　at　the　wrong　place；　but　Sharpe　could　guess　at　what　had　happened。　Windham　wanted　rid　of　Sharpe；　at　least　for　the　moment；　and　Hogan　had　engineered　an　answer　that　Windham　was　hesitant　about　mentioning。
　
　'Yes；　sir？'
　
　'He'd　like　your　assistance；　Sharpe。　For　a　few　days；　anyway。　The　Engineers　are　short…handed；　always　are；　damn　them；　and　he　asked　for　your　help。　I　said　yes。'
　
　'So　I'm　to　leave　the　Battalion；　sir？'
　
　'For　a　few　days；　Sharpe；　for　a　few　days。'
　
　Collett　stirred　by　the　tent　pole。　'Damn　it；　Sharpe；　they'll　be　handing　out　Captaincies　like　pound　no