bcornwell.sharpstiger-第3部分

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n　once　again　and　saluted　by　bringing　his　spear…tipped　halberd　across　his　body。　'pany　all　present；　sir！'　he　shouted　in　a　voice　that　must　have　been　audible　on　the　enemy…held　ridge。　'All　present　and　quiet；　sir！　Have　their　backs　whipped　bloody　else；　sir。　'
　Lieutenant　William　Lawford　curbed　his　horse　and　nodded　at　Sergeant　Hakeswill。　Lawford　was　the　Light　pany's　second　officer；　junior　to　Captain　Morris　and　senior　to　the　brace　of　young　ensigns；　but　he　was　newly　arrived　in　the　battalion　and　was　as　frightened　of　Hakeswill　as　were　the　men　in　the　ranks。　'The　men　can　talk；　Sergeant；　'　Lawford　observed　mildly。　'The　other　panies　aren't　silent。　'
　'No；　sir。　Must　save　their　breath；　sir。　Too　bleeding　hot　to　talk；　sir；　and　besides；　they　got　heathens　to　kill；　sir；　mustn't　waste　breath　on　chit…chat；　not　when　there　are　black…faced　heathens　to　kill；　sir。　Says　so　in　the　scriptures；　sir。　'
　'If　you　say　so；　Sergeant；　'　Lawford　said；　unwilling　to　provoke　a　confrontation；　then　he　found　he　had　nothing　else　to　say　and　so；　awkwardly　aware　of　the　scrutiny　of　the　Light　pany's　seventy…six　men；　he　stared　at　the　enemy…held　ridge。　But　he　was　also　conscious　of　having　ignominiously　surrendered　to　the　will　of　Sergeant　Hakeswill　and　so　he　slowly　coloured　as　he　gazed　towards　the　west。　Lawford　was　popular；　but　thought　to　be　weak；　though　Sharpe　was　not　so　sure　of　that　judgement。　He　thought　the　Lieutenant　was　still　finding　his　way　among　the　strange　and　sometimes　frightening　human　currents　that　made　up　the　33rd；　and　that　in　time　Lawford　would　prove　a　tough　and　resilient　officer。　For　now；　though；　William　Lawford　was　twenty…four　years　old　and　had　only　recently　purchased　his　lieutenancy；　and　that　made　him　unsure　of　his　authority。
　Ensign　Fitzgerald；　who　was　only　eighteen；　strolled　back　from　the　column's　head。　He　was　whistling　as　he　walked　and　slashing　with　a　drawn　sabre　at　tall　weeds。　'Off　in　a　moment；　sir；　'　he　called　up　cheerfully　to　Lawford；　then　seemed　to　bee　aware　of　the　Light　pany's　ominous　silence。　'Not　frightened；　are　you？'　he　asked。
　'Saving　their　breath；　Mister　Fitzgerald；　sir；　'　Hakeswill　snapped。
　'They've　got　breath　enough　to　sing　a　dozen　songs　and　still　beat　the　enemy；　'　Fitzgerald　said　scornfully。　'Ain't　that　so；　lads？'
　'We'll　beat　the　bastards；　sir；　'　Tom　Garrard　said。
　'Then　let　me　hear　you　sing；　'　Fitzgerald　demanded。　'Can't　bear　silence。　We'll　have　a　quiet　time　in　our　tombs；　lads；　so　we　might　as　well　make　a　noise　now。　'　Fitzgerald　had　a　fine　tenor　voice　that　he　used　to　start　the　song　about　the　milkmaid　and　the　rector；　and　by　the　time　the　Light　pany　had　reached　the　verse　that　told　how　the　naked　rector；　blindfolded　by　the　milkmaid　and　thinking　he　was　about　to　have　his　heart'sdesire；　was　being　steered　towards　Bessie　the　cow；　the　whole　pany　was　bawling　the　song　enthusiastically。
　They　never　did　reach　the　end。　Captain　Morris；　the　Light　pany's　manding　officer；　rode　back　from　the　head　of　the　battalion　and　interrupted　the　singing。　'Half…panies！'　he　shouted　at　Hakeswill。
　'Half…panies　it　is；　sir！　At　once；　sir。　Light　pany！　Stop　your　bleeding　noise！　You　heard　the　officer！'　Hakeswill　bellowed。　'Sergeant　Green！　Take　charge　of　the　after　ranks。　Mister　Fitzgerald！　I'll　trouble　you　to　take　your　proper　place　on　the　left；　sir。　Forward　ranks！　Shoulder　firelocks！　Twenty　paces；　forward；　march！　Smartly　now！　Smartly！'
　Hakeswill's　face　shuddered　as　the　front　ten　ranks　of　the　pany　marched　twenty　paces　and　halted；　leaving　the　other　nine　ranks　behind。　All　along　the　battalion　column　the　panies　were　similarly　dividing；　their　drill　as　crisp　as　though　they　were　back　on　their　Yorkshire　parade　ground。　A　quarter…mile　off　to　the　33rd's　left　another　six　battalions　were　going　through　the　same　manoeuvre；　and　performing　it　with　just　as　much　precision。　Those　six　battalions　were　all　native　soldiers　in　the　service　of　the　East　India　pany；　though　they　wore　red　coats　just　like　the　King's　men。　The　six　sepoy　battalions　shook　out　their　colours　and　Sharpe；　seeing　the　bright　flags；　looked　ahead　to　where　the　33rd's　two　great　regimental　banners　were　being　loosed　from　their　leather　tubes　to　the　fierce　Indian　sun。　The　first；　the　King's　Colour；　was　a　British　flag　on　which　the　regiment's　battle　honours　were　embroidered；　while　the　second　was　the　Regimental　Colour　and　had　the　33rd's　badge　displayed　on　a　scarlet　field；　the　same　scarlet　as　the　men's　jacket　facings。　The　tasselled　silk　banners　blazed；　and　the　sight　of　them　prompted　a　sudden　cannonade　from　the　ridge。　Till　now　there　had　only　been　the　one　heavy　gun　firing；　but　abruptly　six　other　cannon　joined　the　fight。　The　new　guns　were　smaller　and　their　round　shot　fell　well　short　of　the　seven　battalions。Major　Shee；　the　Irishman　who　manded　the　33rd　while　its　Colonel；　Arthur　Wellesley；　had　control　of　the　whole　brigade；　cantered　his　horse　back；　spoke　briefly　to　Morris；　then　wheeled　away　towards　the　head　of　the　column。　'We're　going　to　push　the　bastards　off　the　ridge！'　Morris　shouted　at　the　Light　pany；　then　bent　his　head　to　light　a　cigar　with　a　tinderbox。　'Any　bastard　that　turns　tail；　Sergeant；　'　Morris　went　on　when　his　cigar　was　properly　alight；　'will　be　shot。　You　hear　me？'
　'Loud　and　clear；　sir！'　Hakeswill　shouted。　'Shot；　sir！　Shot　like　the　coward　he　is。　'　He　turned　and　scowled　at　the　two　half…panies。　'Shot！　And　your　names　posted　in　your　church　porch　at　home　as　the　cowards　you　are。　So　fight　like　Englishmen！'
　'Scotsmen；　'　a　voice　growled　behind　Sharpe；　but　too　softly　for　Hakeswill　to　hear。
　'Irish；　'　another　man　said。
　'We　ain't　none　of　us　cowards；　'　Garrard　said　more　loudly。
　Sergeant　Green；　a　decent　man；　hushed　him。　'Quiet；　lads。　I　know　you'll　do　your　duty。　'
　The　front　of　the　column　was　marching　now；　but　the　rearmost　panies　were　kept　waiting　so　that　the　battalion　could　advance　with　wide　intervals　between　its　twenty　half…panies。　Sharpe　guessed　that　the　scattered　formation　was　intended　to　reduce　any　casualties　caused　by　the　enemy's　bombardment　which；　because　it　was　still　being　fired　at　extreme　range；　was　doing　no　damage。　Behind　him；　a　long　way　behind；　the　rest　of　the　allied　armies　were　waiting　for　the　ridge　to　be　cleared。　That　mass　looked　like　a　formidable　horde；　but　Sharpe　knew　that　most　of　what　he　saw　was　the　two　armies'　civilian　tail：　the　chaos　of　merchants；　wives；　sutlers　and　herdsmen　who　kept　the　fighting　soldiers　alive　and　whose　supplies　would　make　the　siege　of　the　enemy's　capital　possible。　It　needed　more　than　six　thousand　oxen　just　to　carry　the　cannonballs　for　the　big　siege　guns；　and　all　those　oxen　had　to　be　herded　and　fed　and　the　herdsmen　all　travelled　with　their　families　who；　in　turn；needed　more　oxen　to　carry　their　own　supplies。　Lieutenant　Lawford　had　once　remarked　that　the　expedition　did　not　look　like　an　army　on　the　march；　but　like　a　great　migrating　tribe。　The　vast　horde　of　civilians　and　animals　was　encircled　by　a　thin　crust　of　red…coated　infantry；　most　of　them　Indian　sepoys；　whose　job　was　to　protect　the　merchants；　ammunition　and　draught　animals　from　the　quick…riding；　hard…hitting　light　cavalry　of　the　Tippoo　Sultan。
　The　Tippoo　Sultan。　The　enemy。　The　tyrant　of　Mysore　and　the　man　who　was　presumably　directing　the　gunfire　on　the　ridge。　The　Tippoo　ruled　Mysore　and　he　was　the　enemy；　but　what　he　was；　or　why　he　was　an　enemy；　or　whether　he　was　a　tyrant；　beast　or　demigod；　Sharpe　had　no　idea。　Sharpe　was　here　because　he　was　a　soldier　and　it　was　sufficient　that　he　had　been　told　that　the　Tippoo　Sultan　was　his　enemy　and　so　he　waited　patiently　under　the　Indian　sun　that　was　soaking　his　lean　tall　body　in　sweat。
　Captain　Morris　leaned　on　his　saddle's　pommel。　He　took　off　his　cocked　hat　and　wiped　sweat　from　his　forehead　with　a　handkerchief　that　had　been　soaked　in　cologne　water。　He　had　been　drunk　the　previous　night　and　his　stomach　was　still　churning　with　pain　and　wind。　If　the　battalion　had　not　been　going　into　battle　he　would　have　galloped　away；　found　a　private　spot　and　voided　his　bowels；　but　he　could　hardly　do　that　now　in　case　his　men　thought　it　a　sign　of　weakness　and　so　he　raised　his　canteen　instead　and　swallowed'　some　arrack　in　the　hope　that　the　harsh　spirit　would　calm　the　turmoil　in　his　belly。　'Now；　Sergeant！'　he　called　when　the　pany　in　front　had　moved　sufficiently　far　ahead。
　'Forward　half…pany！'　Hakeswill　shouted。　'Forward　march！　Smartly　now！'
　Lieutenant　Lawford；　given　supervision　of　the　last　half…pany　of　the　battalion；　waited　until　Hakeswill's　men　had　marched　twenty　paces；　then　nodded　at　Sergeant　Green。　'Forward；　Sergeant。'
　The　redcoats　inarched　with　unloaded　muskets　for　the　enemy　was　still　a　long　way　off　and　there　was　no　sign　of　the　Tippoo　Sultan's　infantry；　nor　of　his　feared　cavalry。　There　were　only　the　enemy's　guns　and；　high　in　the　fierce　sky；　the　circling　vultures。　Sharpe　was　in　the　leading　rank　of　the　final　half…pany　and　Lieutenant　Lawford；　glancing　at　him；　thought　once　again　what　a　fine…looking　man　Sharpe　was。　There　was　a　confidence　in　Sharpe's　thin；　sun…darkened　face　and　hard　blue　eyes　that　spoke　of　an　easy　petence；　and　that　appearance　was　a　fort　to　a　young　nervous　lieutenant　advancing　towards　his　first　battle。　With　men　like　Sharpe；　Lawford　thought；　how　could　they　lose？
　Sharpe　was　ignorant　of　the　Lieutenant's　glance　and　would　have　laughed　had　he　been　told　that　his　very　appearance　inspired　confidence。　Sharpe　had　no　conception　of　how　he　looked；　for　he　rarely　saw　a　mirror　and　when　he　did　the　reflected　image　meant　nothing；　though　he　did　know　that　the　ladies　liked　him　and　that　he　liked　them。　He　knew；　too；　that　he　was　the　tallest　man　in　the　Light　pany；　so　tall；　indeed；　that　he　should　have　been　in　the　Grenadier　pany　that　led　the　battalion's　advance；　but　when　he　had　first　joined　the　regiment；　six　years　before；　the　manding　officer　of　the　Light　pany　had　insisted　on　having　Sharpe　in　his　ranks。　Captain　Hughes　was　dead　now；　killed　by　a　bowel…loosening　flux　in　Calcutta；　but　in　his　time　Hughes　had　prided　himself　on　having　the　quickest；　smartest　men　in　his　pany；　men　he　could　trust　to　fight　alone　in　the　skirmish　line；　and　it　had　been　Hughes's　tragedy　that　he　had　only　ever　seen　his　picked　men　face　an　enemy　once；　and　that　once　had　been　the　misbegotten；　fever…ridden　expedition　to　the　foggy　island　off　the　coast　of　Flanders　where　no　amount　of　quick…wittedness　by　the　men　could　salvage　success　from　the　manding　general's　stupidity。　Now；　five　years　later；　o