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Sharpe 3-Book Collection 2: Sharpe’s Havoc, Sharpe’s Eagle, Sharpe’s Gold. Bernard Cornwell
Читать онлайн.Название Sharpe 3-Book Collection 2: Sharpe’s Havoc, Sharpe’s Eagle, Sharpe’s Gold
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780007454686
Автор произведения Bernard Cornwell
Жанр Приключения: прочее
Издательство HarperCollins
Christopher ignored the comment. ‘I don’t think you’ve time to reach Lisbon. Cradock will be gone in a day or two and his army with him. They’re going home, Sharpe. Back to England, so probably the best thing for you to do is wait in Oporto. The French have agreed to repatriate all British citizens and a ship will probably be sailing from there within a week or two and you and your fellows can be aboard.’
‘Will you be aboard?’ Sharpe asked.
‘I very well might, Sharpe, thank you for asking. And if you’ll forgive me for sounding immodest I rather fancy I shall sail home to a hero’s welcome. The man who brought peace to Portugal! There has to be a knighthood in that, don’t you think? Not that I care, of course, but I’m sure Kate will enjoy being Lady Christopher.’
‘If you weren’t under a flag of truce,’ Sharpe said, ‘I’d disembowel you here and now. I know what you’ve been doing. Dinner parties with French generals? Bringing them here so they could snap us up? You’re a bloody traitor, Christopher, nothing but a bloody traitor.’ The vehemence of his tone brought a small smile to Major Dulong’s grim face.
‘Oh dear.’ Christopher looked pained. ‘Oh dear me, dear me.’ He stared at a nearby French corpse for a few seconds, then shook his head. ‘I’ll overlook your impertinence, Sharpe. I suppose that damned servant of mine found his way to you? He did? Thought as much. Luis has an unrivalled talent for misunderstanding circumstances.’ He drew on his cigar, then blew a plume of smoke that was whirled away on the wind. ‘I was sent here, Sharpe, by His Majesty’s government with instructions to discover whether Portugal was worth fighting for, whether it was worth an effusion of British blood and I concluded, and I’ve no doubt you will disagree with me, that it was not. So I obeyed the second part of my remit, which was to secure terms from the French. Not terms of surrender, Sharpe, but of settlement. We shall withdraw our forces and they will withdraw theirs, though for form’s sake they will be allowed to march a token division through the streets of Lisbon. Then they’re going: bonsoir, adieu and au revoir. By the end of July there will not be one foreign soldier remaining on Portugal’s soil. That is my achievement, Sharpe, and it was necessary to dine with French generals, French marshals and French officials to secure it.’ He paused, as if expecting some reaction, but Sharpe just looked sceptical and Christopher sighed. ‘That is the truth, Sharpe, however hard you may find it to believe, but remember “there are more things in …”’
‘I know,’ Sharpe interrupted. ‘More things in heaven and earth than I bloody know about, but what the hell were you doing here?’ His voice was angry now. ‘And you’ve been wearing a French uniform. Luis told me.’
‘Can’t usually wear this red coat behind French lines, Sharpe,’ Christopher said, ‘and civilian clothes don’t exactly command respect these days, so yes, I do sometimes wear French uniform. It’s a ruse de guerre, Sharpe, a ruse de guerre.’
‘A ruse of bloody nothing,’ Sharpe snarled. ‘Those bastards have been trying to kill my men, and you brought them here!’
‘Oh, Sharpe,’ Christopher said sadly. ‘We needed somewhere quiet to sign the memorandum of agreement, some place where the mob could not express its crude opinions and so I offered the Quinta. I confess I did not consider your predicament as thoroughly as I should and that is my fault. I am sorry.’ He even offered Sharpe the hint of a bow. ‘The French came here, they deemed your presence a trap and, against my advice, attempted to attack you. I apologize again, Sharpe, most profusely, but it’s over now. You are free to leave, you do not offer a surrender, you do not yield your weapons, you march out with your head held high and you will go with my sincerest congratulations and, naturally, I shall make quite certain that your Colonel learns of your achievement here.’ He waited for Sharpe’s answer and, when none came, smiled. ‘And, of course,’ he went on, ‘I shall be honoured to return your telescope. I clean forgot to bring it with me just now.’
‘You forgot nothing, you bastard,’ Sharpe growled.
‘Sharpe,’ Christopher said reprovingly, ‘try not to be brutish. Try to understand that diplomacy employs subtlety, intelligence and, yes, deceit. And try to understand that I have negotiated your freedom. You may leave the hill in triumph.’
Sharpe stared into Christopher’s face which seemed so guileless, so pleased to be the bearer of this news. ‘And what happens if we stay?’ he asked.
‘I have not the foggiest idea,’ Christopher said, ‘but of course I shall try to find out if that is, indeed, your wish. But my guess, Sharpe, is that the French will construe such stubbornness as a hostile gesture. There are, sadly, folk in this country who will oppose our settlement. They are misguided people who would prefer to fight rather than accept a negotiated peace, and if you stay here then that encourages their foolishness. My own suspicion is that if you insist upon staying, and thus break the terms of our agreement, the French will bring mortars from Oporto and do their best to persuade you to leave.’ He drew on the cigar, then flinched as a raven pecked at the eyes of a nearby corpse. ‘Major Dulong would like to collect these men.’ He gestured with the cigar towards the bodies left by Sharpe’s riflemen.
‘He’s got one hour,’ Sharpe said, ‘and he can bring ten men, none of them armed. And tell him some of my men will be on the hill, and they won’t be armed either.’
Christopher frowned. ‘Why would your men need to be on the open hillside?’ he asked.
‘Because we’ve got to bury our dead,’ Sharpe said, ‘and it’s all rock up there.’
Christopher drew on the cigar. ‘I think it would be much better, Sharpe,’ he said gently, ‘if you brought your men down now.’
Sharpe shook his head. ‘I’ll think about it,’ he said.
‘You’ll think about it?’ Christopher repeated, looking irritated now. ‘And how long, might I ask, will it take you to think about it?’
‘As long as it takes,’ Sharpe said, ‘and I can be a very slow thinker.’
‘You have one hour, Lieutenant,’ Christopher said, ‘precisely one hour.’ He spoke in French to Dulong who nodded at Sharpe, who nodded back, then Christopher threw away the half-smoked cigar, turned on his heel and went.
‘He’s lying,’ Sharpe said.
Vicente was less certain. ‘You can be sure of that?’
‘I’ll tell you why I’m sure,’ Sharpe said, ‘the bugger didn’t give me an order. This is the army. You don’t suggest, you order. Do this, do that, but he didn’t. He’s given me orders before, but not today.’
Vicente translated for the benefit of Sergeant Macedo who, with Harper, had been invited to listen to Sharpe’s report. Both Sergeants, like Vicente, looked troubled, but they said nothing. ‘Why,’ Vicente asked, ‘would he not give you an order?’
‘Because he wants me to walk off this hilltop of my own accord, because what’s going to happen down there isn’t pretty. Because he was lying.’
‘You can’t be sure of that,’ Vicente said sternly, sounding more like the lawyer he had been rather than the soldier he now was.
‘We can’t be sure of bloody anything,’ Sharpe grumbled.
Vicente looked into the east. ‘The guns have stopped at Amarante. Maybe there is peace?’
‘And why would there be peace?’ Sharpe asked. ‘Why did the French come here in the first place?’
‘To stop us trading with Britain,’ Vicente said.
‘So why withdraw now? The trading will start again. They haven’t finished the job and it isn’t like the French to give up so quick.’
Vicente thought for a few seconds. ‘Perhaps they know they will lose too many men? The further they go into Portugal the more enemies they make and the longer the supply roads they have to protect.