bcornwell.sharpescompany-第14部分

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　'How　do　you　know？'
　
　'Because　our　good　Colonel；　honest　Brian　Windham；　has　a　forerunner；　a　messenger；　a　John　the　Baptist　to　his　ing；　a　Paul　Revere；　no　less。'
　
　'Who？'
　
　Leroy　sighed；　he　was　being　unusually　loquacious。　'You've　never　heard　of　Paul　Revere？'
　
　'No。　'
　
　'Lucky　man；　Sharpe。　He　called　my　father　a　traitor；　and　our　family　called　Revere　a　traitor；　and　I　rather　think　we　lost　the　argument。　The　point　is；　my　dear　Sharpe；　that　he　was　a　forerunner；　an　agent　of　warning；　and　our　good　Colonel　has　sent　such　a　warning　of　his　arrival　in　the　shape　of　a　new　Major。'
　
　Sharpe　looked　at　Leroy；　the　American's　expression　had　not　changed。　'I'm　sorry；　Leroy。　I'm　sorry。'
　
　Leroy　shrugged。　As　the　senior　Captain　he　had　been　hoping　for　the　vacant　Majority　in　the　Battalion。　'One　should　expect　nothing　in　this　army。　His　name　is　Collett；　Jack　Collett；　another　honest　name　and　another　foxhunter。'
　
　'I'm　sorry。'
　
　Leroy　began　walking　again。　'There　is　something　else。'
　
　'What？'
　
　Leroy　pointed　with　his　cigar　into　the　courtyard　of　the　house　where　the　officers　were　billeted　and　Sharpe　looked　through　the　archway　and；　for　the　second　time　that　morning；　he　had　a　sudden；　unwele　shock。　A　young　man；　in　his　middle　twenties；　stood　next　to　a　pile　of　luggage　that　his　servant　was　unstrapping。　Sharpe　had　never　seen　the　officer　before　but　the　uniform　was　only　too　familiar。　It　was　the　uniform　of　the　South　Essex；　plete　even　to　the　silver　badge　of　the　Eagle　that　Sharpe　had　captured；　but　it　was　a　uniform　only　one　man　could　wear。　It　had　a　curved　sabre；　slung　on　chains；　and　a　silver　whistle　holstered　on　the　cross　belt。　The　insignias　of　rank；　denoting　a　Captain；　were　not　epaulettes；　but　wings　made　from　chains　and　decorated　with　a　bugle　horn。　Sharpe　was　looking　at　a　man　dressed　as　the　Captain　of　the　South　Essex　Light　pany。　He　swore。　Leroy　laughed。　'Join　the　downtrodden。'
　
　No　one　had　the　guts　to　tell　him；　except　Leroy！　The　bastards　had　brought　in　a　new　man；　over　his　head；　and　he　had　never　been　told！　He　felt　a　huge　anger；　a　depression；　and　a　helplessness　in　the　face　of　the　army's　cumbersome　machinery。　He　could　not　believe　it。　Hakeswill；　Teresa　going；　and　now　this？
　
　Major　Forrest　appeared　in　the　archway；　saw　Sharpe；　and　came　towards　him。　'Sharpe？'
　
　'Sir。　'
　
　'Don't　jump　to　conclusions。'　The　Major　sounded　miserable。
　
　'Conclusions；　sir？'
　
　'About　Captain　Rymer。'　Forrest　nodded　towards　the　new　Captain　who；　at　that　moment；　turned　and　caught　Sharpe's　eye。　He　bowed　briefly；　a　polite　acknowledgement；　and　Sharpe　forced　himself　to　respond。　He　looked　back　to　Forrest。
　
　'What　happened？'
　
　Forrest　shrugged。　'He　bought　Lennox's　mission。　'
　
　Lennox？　Sharpe's　predecessor　had　died　two　and　a　half　years　before。　'But　that　was。。。'
　
　'I　know；　Sharpe。　His　will　was　in　the　courts。　The　estate　has　only　just　released　the　mission　for　sale。'
　
　'I　didn't　even　know　it　was　for　sale！'　Not；　Sharpe　thought；　that　he　could　have　afforded　the　fifteen　hundred　pounds。
　
　Leroy　lit　a　new　cigar　from　the　butt　of　his　old。　'I　doubt　if　anyone　knew　it　was　for　sale。　Right；　Major？'
　
　Forrest　nodded　miserably。　An　open　sale　meant　that　the　legal　price　had　to　be　paid。　It　was　far　more　likely　that　Captain　Rymer　was　a　friend　of　one　of　the　lawyers　who　had　cut　out　the　petition；　sold　it　to　Rymer；　and　in　return　received　a　higher　price。　The　Major　spread　his　hands。　I'm　sorry；　Sharpe。'
　
　'So　what　happens？'　Sharpe's　voice　was　hard。
　
　'Nothing。'　Forrest　tried　to　sound　hopeful。　'Major　Collett；　you　haven't　met　him；　Sharpe；　agrees　with　me。　It's　a　mix　up。　So　you　stay　in　mand　till　Colonel　Windham　arrives。'
　
　'Later　today；　sir。'
　
　Forrest　nodded。　'Everything　will　be　all　right；　Sharpe。　You'll　see。　Everything。'
　
　Sharpe　saw　Teresa　walk　through　the　courtyard；　carrying　her　saddle；　but　she　did　not　see　him。　He　turned　away　and　stared　over　the　rooftops　of　Elvas；　pink　in　the　sunlight；　and　saw　that　a　cloudbank；　riding　the　north　wind；　had　bisected　the　landscape　with　its　shadow。　Spain　lay　in　shadow　and　Badajoz　was　a　dark　citadel　far　away。　He　swore　again；　foully　and　at　length；　as　if　the　curses　might　fight　for　him　against　the　ill　fortune。　He　knew　it　was　fanciful；　stupid　even；　but　it　seemed　as　if　the　fortress　that　barred　the　eastern　road；　its　walls　high　over　the　Guadiana；　was　at　the　centre　of　the　evil；　spreading　a　baleful　fate　over　all　who　came　near。　Hakeswill；　Rymer；　Teresa　going；　all　things　changing；　and　what　else；　he　wondered；　would　go　wrong　before　they　lanced　the　evil　in　Badajoz？
　
　CHAPTER　9
　
　Everything　about　Obadiah　Hakeswill　was　graceless　and　repulsive　to　the　point　of　fascination。　The　body　was　huge；　but　any　man　who　mistook　the　belly　for　a　sign　of　weakness　would　be　caught　by　the　arms　and　legs　that　had　massive　strength。　He　was　clumsy；　except　when　performing　a　drill　movement；　though　even　when　he　was　marching　there　was　a　hint　that；　at　any　moment；　he　might　bee　some　snarling；　shambling　beast；　half　wild；　half　man。　His　skin　was　yellowish；　a　legacy　of　the　Fever　Islands。　His　hair　was　blond；　going　grey；　and　stretched　thinly　over　his　scarred　scalp；　falling　lank　to　the　stretched；　tensed；　obscenely　mutilated　neck。
　
　Some　time　in　the　past；　even　before　the　hanging；　he　had　known　he　would　never　be　liked　and　so；　instead；　determined　to　be　feared。　He　had　one　advantage。　Obadiah　Hakeswill　was　afraid　of　nothing。　When　other　men　plained　of　hunger　or　cold；　dampness　or　disease；　the　Sergeant　simply　cackled　and　knew　that　it　would　end。　He　did　not　care　how　much　he　was　hurt　in　a　fight；　wounds　mended；　bruises　disappeared；　and　he　could　not　die。　He　had　known　that　from　the　moment　he　had　dangled　on　the　rope's　end；　he　could　not　die　because　he　was　protected　by　a　magic；　his　mother's　magic；　and　he　was　proud　of　the　foul　scar；　the　symbol　of　his　invulnerability；　and　knew　that　it　frightened　other　men。　Officers　did　not　cross　Obadiah　Hakeswill。　They　feared　the　consequences　of　his　anger；　the　foulness　of　his　looks；　and　so　they　humored　him；　knowing　that　in　return　he　would　stick　to　the　letter　of　the　regulations　and　would　support　their　authority　against　the　men。　Within　those　limits　he　was　free　to　take　his　revenge　on　a　world　that　had　made　him　ugly；　lumpen；　and　friendless；　a　world　that　had　tried　to　kill　him　and　which　now；　above　all；　feared　him。
　
　He　hated　Sharpe。　To　Hakeswill　officers　were　officers；　born；　like　John　Morris；　to　their　exalted　station　and　the　purveyors　of　reward　and　privilege。　But　Sharpe　was　an　upstart。　He　came　from　the　same　gutters　as　Hakeswill；　and　the　Sergeant　had　once　tried　to　break　him　and　failed。　He　would　not　fail　again。　Now；　sitting　in　the　stable　behind　the　officers'　house；　stripping　a　hambone　with　his　fingernails　and　cramming　the　scraps　into　an　open；　churning　mouth；　he　took　pleasure　at　remembering　their　meeting。　Hakeswill　had　recognized　the　officer's　embarrassment　and　chalked　it　up　as　a　small　victory　to　be　followed　and　exploited。　There　was　the　Sergeant　too；　the　Irishman　who　would　be　worth　baiting；　and　he　cackled　as　he　stuffed　the　food　into　his　mouth　and　scratched　the　flea…bites　in　his　armpit。　There　was　profit　in　fear；　none　in　harmony。　Hakeswill　had　made　himself　fortable　by　reducing　panies　into　divided　camps；　those　for　him　and　those　against。　Those　he　disliked　would　be　forced　to　pay　money；　or　services；　so　that　the　Sergeant's　life　would　be　bearable。　Hakeswill　had　a　shrewd　idea　that　Patrick　Harper　would　not　allow　it　to　happen　easily；　nor　Sharpe；　but　he　laughed　out　loud。　He　had　not　re…enlisted　in　an　active　service　battalion；　one　that　would　lead　to　the　rich　pickings　of　a　war；　to　be　thwarted　by　those　two。
　
　He　fished　in　his　ammunition　pouch　and　came　up　with　a　handful　of　coins。　It　was　not　much；　a　few　shillings；　but　all　he　had　managed　to　steal　in　the　chaos　of　the　arrival。　He　had　e　to　the　stable　to　count　his　gains　and　to　hide　them　deep　in　his　pack。　He　preferred　services　to　money。　Soon　he　would　discover　which　soldiers　in　the　Light　pany　were　married；　and　which　had　the　prettiest　wives。　Those　were　the　ones　to　go　for；　the　ones　who　would　be　reduced　to　quaking　misery　by　Hakeswill's　battery　of　weapons　till　they　would　offer　anything　for　a　release　from　his　torment。　Their　wives　were　his　usual　price。　He　knew　that；　on　average；　two　or　three　would　give　in；　would　bring　their　women　in　tears　to　some　straw…filled　stable　like　this　and；　after　a　while；　the　women　surrendered。　Some　came　drunk；　but　he　never　minded　that；　and　one　had　tried　to　rip　him　with　a　bayonet　and　he　had　killed　her；　and　blamed　the　husband　for　her　death；　and　he　laughed　as　he　remembered　the　man's　execution；　hung　from　a　high　tree。　It　would　take　time　to　bee　fortable　in　this　new　battalion；　to　root　around　in　it　like　a　beast　settling　in　its　lair；　but　he　would　do　it。　And；　just　like　an　animal　slumping　into　rest；　he　would　first　claw　out　the　rocks　that　would　be　unfortable　beneath　his　yellow　hide；　rocks　like　Sharpe　and　Harper。
　
　He　had　the　stable　to　himself。　A　horse　moved　in　the　stall　behind　him；　light　chinked　between　the　thick；　curved　roof　tiles；　and　the　Sergeant　was　glad　of　the　time　to　be　alone；　to　think。　Stealing　equipment　was　a　good　beginning。　Pick　your　men；　steal　from　them；　then　report　the　loss　and　have　them　charged；　hoping　that　the　new　Colonel　was　a　flogging　man。　It　was　extraordinary　what　a　man　would　do　to　avoid　a　flogging；　and　what　a　woman　would　give　to　save　her　man　from　the　lashes！　It　was　so　easy；　and　he　laughed　again。　Two　or　three　savage　floggings　and　the　pany　would　be　eating　out　of　his　hand！　There　was　even　a　rumor；　that　had　flashed　through　the　Battalion　like　wildfire；　that　Sharpe　had　lost　the　pany。　That　was　good　news；　it　removed　an　obstacle；　and　Hakeswill　had　judged　that　Price　would　be　no　great　problem。　The　new　Ensign；　Matthews；　was　a　mere　boy；　and　the　only　problem　was　Patrick　Harper。　His　fault　was　probably　excessive　honesty；　and　Hakeswill　grinned。　It　was　so　easy！
　
　The　door　of　the　stable　opened　and　Hakeswill　froze。　He　liked　to　stay　unseen；　to　watch　without　being　watched。　One　person　entered；　he　could　tell　by　the　footsteps；　and　walked　to　the　row　of　stalls　behind　Hakeswill　as　the　big；　wooden　door　closed　under　its　own　ponderous　weight。　The　newer　was　hidden　from　him　and　he　moved；　infinitely　slowly；　timing　his　movements　so　that　the　rustle　of　straw　should　seem　like　the　stirrings　of　a　draught　and　th