bcornwell.sharpstiger-第23部分

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oo　fond　of　liberty；　or　even　infected　with　equality；　and　so　he　had　removed　the　Tree　of　Liberty　andhad　the　declarations　torn　down；　yet　still　the　Tippoo　treasured　a　love　of　France。　He　had　never　built　the　guillotine；　not　for　lack　of　funds；　but　rather　because　Gudin　had　persuaded　him　that　the　machine　was　a　device　of　mercy；　constructed　to　end　a　criminal's　life　with　such　swiftness　that　the　victim　would　never　even　realize　he　was　being　killed。　It　was　an　ingenious　device；　the　Tippoo　admitted；　but　much　too　merciful。　How　could　such　a　machine　deter　traitors？
　'That　man'　…　the　Tippoo　now　pointed　to　the　Muslim　soldier　who　had　betrayed　the　secrets　of　the　gatehouse　…　'will　be　killed　first　and　then　his　body　will　be　fed　to　pigs。　I　can　think　of　no　fate　worse　for　a　Muslim；　and　believe　me；　Colonel；　he　fears　the　pigs　more　than　he　fears　his　death。　The　other　man　will　feed　my　tigers　and　his　bones　will　be　ground　to　powder　and　delivered　to　his　widow。　Their　deaths　will　be　short；　not　perhaps　as　quick　as　your　machine；　Colonel；　but　still　mercifully　short。'　He　clapped　his　hands　and　the　two　chained　prisoners　were　dragged　forward　until　they　stood　in　the　centre　of　the　courtyard。
　The　Muslim　soldier　was　forced　to　his　knees。　His　tiger…striped　uniform　had　been　stripped　from　him　and　now　he　wore　nothing　but　a　short　pair　of　loose　cotton　breeches。　He　stared　up　at　the　Tippoo　who　was　gaudy　in　a　yellow　silk　tunic　and　a　jewelled　turban；　and　the　man　raised　his　manacled　hands　in　a　mute　appeal　for　clemency　that　the　Tippoo　ignored。　Gudin　tensed　himself。　He　had　seen　the　jettis　at　work　before；　but　familiarity　did　not　make　the　spectacle　any　more　pleasant。
　The　first　jetti　placed　a　nail　on　the　crown　of　the　victim's　bare　head。　The　nail　was　of　black　iron　and　had　a　six…inch　shank　that　was　topped　by　a　flat　head　that　was　a　good　three　inches　wide。　The　man　held　the　nail　in　place　with　his　left　hand；　then　looked　up　at　the　balcony。　The　doomed　soldier；　feeling　the　touch　of　the　iron　point　on　his　scalp；　called　for　forgiveness。　The　Tippoo　listened　for　a　second　to　the　soldier'sdesperate　excuses；　then　pointed　a　finger　at　him。　The　Tippoo　held　the　finger　steady　for　a　few　seconds　and　the　soldier　held　his　breath　as　he　dared　to　believe　he　might　be　forgiven；　but　then　the　Tippoo's　hand　abruptly　dropped。
　The　jetti　raised　his　right　hand；　its　palm　facing　downwards；　then　took　a　deep　breath。　He　paused；　summoning　his　huge　strength；　then　he　slapped　the　hand　fast　down　so　that　his　open　palm　struck　the　nail's　flat　top。　He　shouted　aloud　as　he　struck；　and　at　the　very　instant　that　his　right　hand　slapped　the　nail　so　he　snatched　his　left　hand　away　from　the　long　shank　which　was　driven　hard　and　deep　into　the　soldier's　skull。　It　went　so　deep　that　the　nail's　flat　head　crushed　the　prisoner's　black　hair。　Blood　spurted　from　under　the　nail　as　its　shank　slammed　home。　The　jetti；　stepped　away；　gesturing　at　the　nail　as　if　to　show　how　much　strength　had　been　needed　to　so　drive　it　through　the　thick　bone　of　the　skull。　The　traitor　still　lived。　He　was　babbling　and　shrieking；　and　blood　was　spilling　down　his　face　in　quick　lacing　rivulets　as　he　swayed　on　his　knees。　His　body　was　shaking；　but　then；　quite　suddenly；　his　back　arched；　he　stared　wide…eyed　up　at　the　Tippoo　and　then　fell　forward。　His　body　shuddered　twice；　then　was　still。　One　of　the　six　chained　tigers　stirred　at　the　smell　of　blood　and　padded　forward　until　its　chain　stretched　to　its　full　length　and　so　held　it　back。　The　beast　growled；　then　settled　down　to　watch　the　second　man　die。
　The　Tippoo　and　his　entourage　applauded　the　first　jettfs　skill；　then　the　Tippoo　pointed　at　the　wretched　Hindu　merchant。　This　second　prisoner　was　a　big　man；　fat　as　butter；　and　his　gross　size　would　only　make　the　second　demonstration　all　the　more　impressive。
　The　first　jetti；　his　execution　successfully　pleted；　fetched　a　stool　from　the　gateway。　He　set　it　down　and　forced　the　fat；　weeping　merchant　onto　its　seat。　Then　he　knelt　in　front　of　the　chair　and　pinned　the　man's　manacled　arms　down　tight　against　his　sagging　belly　so　that　he　could　not　move。　The　chair　facedthe　Tippoo　and　the　kneeling　jetti　made　certain　he　stayed　low　so　that　he　would　not　spoil　his　master's　view。　'It　takes　more　strength　than　you　would　think；'　the　Tippoo　remarked　to　Gudin；　'to　drive　a　nail　into　a　skull。'
　'So　Your　Majesty　has　been　kind　enough　to　inform　me　before；'　Gudin　answered　drily。
　The　Tippoo　laughed。　'You　do　not　enjoy　this；　Colonel？'
　'The　death　of　traitors　is　ever　necessary；　sire；'　Gudin　said　evasively。
　'But　I　should　like　to　think　you　derive　amusement　from　it。　Surely　you　appreciate　my　men's　strength？'
　'I　do　admire　it；　sire。'
　'Then　admire　it　now；'　the　Tippoo　said；　'for　the　next　death　takes　even　more　strength　than　the　nail。'　The　Tippoo　smiled　and　turned　back　to　look　into　the　courtyard　where　the　second　jetti　waited　behind　the　prisoner。　The　Tippoo　pointed　at　the　merchant；　held　the　gesture　as　before；　then　dropped　his　hand　abruptly。　The　merchant　screamed　in　anticipation；　then　began　to　shake　like　a　leaf　as　the　jetti　placed　his　hands　against　the　sides　of　the　merchant's　skull。　His　touch　was　gentle　at　first；　almost　a　caress。　His　palms　covered　the　merchant's　ears　as　his　fingers　groped　to　find　a　purchase　among　the　skull　bones　beneath　the　victim's　fat　cheeks。　Then　the　jetti　suddenly　tightened　his　grip；　distorting　the　plump　face；　and　the　merchant's　scream　became　frantic　until；　at　last；　he　had　no　breath　left　to　scream　and　could　only　mew　in　terror。　The　jetti　drew　breath；　paused　to　concentrate　all　his　force；　then　gave　a　great　shout　that　made　the　six　tigers　leap　to　their　feet　in　alarm。
　As　he　shouted　the　jetti　twisted　the　merchant's　head。　He　was　wringing　his　victim's　neck　like　a　man　would　wring　a　chicken's　gullet；　only　this　neck　was　thick　and　fat；　but　thejettfs　first　great　effort　twisted　it　so　far　around　that　the　face　was　already　looking　back　across　its　right　shoulder　when　the　executioner　made　his　second　effort；　marked　by　a　grunt；　which　pulled　the　head　all　the　way　around　and　Gudin；　flinching　from　the　sight　on　thebalcony；　heard　the　distinct　crack　as　the　merchant's　spine　was　broken。　The　jetti　let　go　of　the　head　and　sprang　back；　proud　of　his　work　as　the　dead　merchant　collapsed　off　the　stool。　The　Tippoo　applauded；　then　tossed　down　two　small　bags　of　gold。　'Take　that　one　to　the　pigs；'　he　said；　pointing　at　the　Muslim。　'And　leave　the　other　here。　Let　the　tigers　loose。'
　The　balcony　shutters　were　closed。　Somewhere　deep　in　the　palace；　perhaps　from　the　harem　where　the　Tippoo's　six　hundred　wives；　concubines　and　handmaidens　all　lived；　a　harp　tinkled　prettily；　while　down　in　the　courtyard　the　tigers'　keepers　used　their　long　staves　to　herd　the　beasts　as　they　released　them　from　their　chains。　The　Tippoo　smiled　at　his　followers。　'Back　to　the　walls；　gentlemen；'　he　said。　'We　have　work　to　do。'
　The　keepers　released　the　last　tiger；　then　followed　the　jettis　out　through　the　gateway。　The　dead　soldier　had　been　dragged　away。　For　a　moment　the　tigers　watched　the　remaining　body；　then　one　of　the　beasts　crossed　to　the　merchant's　corpse　and　eviscerated　the　fat　belly　with　one　blow　of　its　huge　paw。
　And　so　Ravi　Shekhar　had　died。　And　now　was　eaten。
　Sharpe　was　back　with　his　pany　before　sunset。　He　was　greeted　ebulliendy　by　men　who　saw　in　his　release　from　the　flogging　a　small　victory　for　the　lower　ranks　against　blind　authority。　Private　Mallinson　even　clapped　Sharpe　on　the　back；　and　was　rewarded　with　a　stream　of　curses。
　Sharpe　ate　with　his　usual　six　panions　who；　as　ever；　were　joined　by　three　wives　and　by　Mary。　The　supper　was　a　stew　of　beans；　rice　and　salt　beef；　and　it　was　at　the　end　of　the　small　meal；　when　they　were　sharing　a　canteen　of　arrack；　that　Sergeant　Hakeswill　appeared。　'Private　Sharpe！'　He　was　carrying　a　cane　that　he　pointed　towards　Sharpe。　'I　wants　you！'
　'Sergeant。'　Sharpe　acknowledged　Hakeswill；　but　did　not　move。'A　word　with　you；　Private。　On　your　feet　now！'
　Sharpe　still　did　not　move。　'I'm　excused　pany　duties；　Sergeant。　Colonel's　orders。'
　Hakeswill's　face　wrenched　itself　in　a　grotesque　twitch。　'This　ain't　your　duty；'　the　Sergeant　said；　'this　is　your　bleeding　pleasure。　So　get　on　your　bloody　feet　and　e　here。'
　Sharpe　obediently　stood；　flinching　as　his　coat　tugged　at　his　grievously　wounded　back。　He　followed　the　Sergeant　to　an　open　space　behind　the　surgeon's　tent　where　Hakeswill　turned　and　rammed　his　cane　into　Sharpe's　chest。　'How　the　hell　did　you　escape　that　flogging；　Sharpie？'
　Sharpe　ignored　the　question。　Hakeswill's　broken　nose　was　still　swollen　and　bruised；　and　Sharpe　could　see　the　worry　in　the　Sergeant's　eyes。
　'Didn't　you　hear　me；　boy？'　Hakeswill　shoved　the　cane's　tip　into　Sharpe's　belly。　'How　e　you　was　cut　down？'
　'How　e　you　were　cut　down　from　the　scaffold；　Sergeant？'　Sharpe　asked。
　'No　lip　from　you；　boy。　No　lip；　or　by　God　I'll　have　you　strapped　to　the　tripod　again。　Now　tell　me　what　the　General　wanted。'
　Sharpe　shook　his　head。　Tf　you　want　to　know　that；　Sergeant；'　he　said；　'you'd　better　ask　General　Harris　yourself。'
　'Stand　still！　Stand　straight！'　Hakeswill　snapped；　then　cut　with　his　cane　at　a　nearby　guy　rope。　He　sniffed；　wondering　how　best　to　worm　the　information　out　of　Sharpe　and　decided；　for　a　change；　to　try　gentleness。　'I　admire　you；　Sharpie；'　the　Sergeant　said　hoarsely。　'Not　many　men　have　the　guts　to　walk　after　getting　two　hundred　tickles　of　the　whip。　Takes　a　strong　man　to　do　that；　Sharpie；　and　I'd　hate　to　see　you　getting　even　more　tickles。　It's　in　your　best　interest　to　tell　me；　Sharpie。　You　know　that。　It'll　go　bad　with　you　else。　So　why　was　you　released；　lad？'
　Sharpe　pretended　to　relent。　'You　know　why　I　was　released；　Sergeant；'　he　said。　'The　Colonel　announced　it。'
　'No；　I　don't　know；　lad；'　Hakeswill　said。　'Upon　my　soul；　I　don't。　So　you　tell　me　now。'Sharpe　shrugged。　'Because　we　fought　well　the　other　day；　Sergeant。　It's　a　reward；　like。'
　'No；　it　bleeding　ain't！'　Hakeswill　shouted；　then　dodged　to　one　side　and　slashed　his　cane　onto　Sharpe's　wounded　back。　Sharpe　almost　screamed　with　the　pain。　'You　don't　get　called　away　to　a　general's　tent　for　that；　Sharpie！'　Hakeswill　said。　'Stands　to　reason！　Never　heard　nothing　like　it　in　all　my　born　days。　So　you　tell　me　why；　you　bastard。'
　Sharpe　turned　to　face　his　persecutor。　'You　lay　that　cane　on　me　again；　Obadiah；'　he　said　softly；　'and　I'll　tell　General　Harris　about　you。　I'll　have　you　skinne