"Stokes won't hurt you, " Sharpe told Ahmed.
"I'm your havildar, " Ahmed insisted, hefting his musket and peering about the deserted landscape for enemies. There was none in sight, but Ahmed's gesture reminded Sharpe of Elliott's death and he wondered if he should have waited for the ox convoy to return to Deogaum, for the convoys all had escorts of sepoys or mercenary horsemen. He was tempted to kick the horse into a trot, but he resisted the impulse.
The danger was more acutC once he reached the lower hills, for Mahratta horsemen were forever probing the perimeter of the British camp and being chased away by cavalry patrols. Twice he saw horsemen in the distance, but neither group took any notice of Sharpe who was ready to haul Ahmed up onto the horse and then ride for his life if he was threatened. He did not relax until he met a patrol of Madrassi cavalry under the command of a Company lieutenant who escorted him safely to the encampment.
Deogaum was now surrounded by a great spread of tents and make shift booths, homes to soldiers and camp followers. A dancing bear was performing for a crowd of infantrymen and the animal reminded Sharpe of Major Stokes's words about America. Simone! It was his own damn fault. He should never have trusted the woman. The thought of his own foolishness plunged Sharpe into a black mood that was not helped by the sight of two redcoat privates lounging on a bench outside Torrance's quarters. Neither man moved as Sharpe slid from the horse.
He gave the reins to Ahmed and mimed that the boy should rub the grey mare down with straw and then water her.
The two redcoats shifted slightly as if acknowledging Sharpe's presence, but neither man stood. He knew both of them; indeed, not so very long ago he had marched in the same ranks as these two men whose coats had the red facings of the 33rd. Kendrick and Lowry, they were called, and two worse characters it would have been hard to find in any light company. Both were cronies of Hakeswill's, and both had been among the small party Hakeswill had brought north in his failed attempt to arrest Sharpe.
"On your feet, " Sharpe said.
Kendrick glanced at Lowry, who looked back at Kendrick, and the two made faces at each other as though they were surprised by Sharpe's demands. They hesitated just long enough to make their insolence plain, but not quite long enough to make it punishable, then stood to attention.
"Is that your 'orse, Mister Sharpe?" Kendrick asked, stressing the 'mister'.
Sharpe ignored the question and pushed into the house to find a new clerk sitting behind the table. He was a young, good-looking Indian with oiled hair and a very white robe. He wore an apron to protect the robe from ink spots.
"You have business, sahib?" he asked brusquely.
"With Captain Torrance."
"The Captain is ill." The Indian, whose English was very good, smiled.
"He's always bloody ill, " Sharpe said and walked past the protesting clerk to push open the inner door.
Torrance was in his hammock, smoking his hookah, and dressed in an Indian gown embroidered with dragons while Sergeant Hakeswill was sitting at a small table counting a pile of coins.
«Sharpe!» Torrance sounded surprised. Hakeswill, looking equally surprised, sullenly stood to attention.
"Wasn't expecting you till this evening, " Torrance said.
"I'm here, " Sharpe said unnecessarily.
"So it is apparent. Unless you're a spectre?"
Sharpe had no time for small talk.
"You've got a problem with chitties he asked abruptly.
"Tiresome, isn't it?" Torrance seemed uncomfortable.
"Very tiresome. Sergeant, you have business elsewhere?"
"I've got duties, sir! " Hakeswill snapped.
"Attend to them, dear fellow."
«Sir!» Hakeswill stiffened, turned to the right, then marched from the room.
"So how are you, Sharpe? Keeping busy?" Torrance had swung himself off the hammock and now scooped the coins into a leather bag.
"I hear poor Elliott died?"
"Shot, sir."
Torrance shuddered as if the news was personal.
"So very sad, " he sighed, then retied the belt of his elaborate gown.
"I never did thank you, Sharpe, for being so supportive with Sir Arthur."
Sharpe had not thought he had been supportive at all.
"I just told the truth, sir."
"My father would be proud of you, and I'm deeply grateful to you. It seems Dilip was in league with Naig."
"He was?"
Torrance heard the disbelief in Sharpe's voice.
"No other explanation, is there?" he said curtly.
"Someone must have been telling Naig which convoys carried the vital supplies, and it had to be Dilip. I must say I thought Wellesley was damned obtuse! There really is no point in having scruples about hanging natives. There isn't exactly a shortage of them, is there?" He smiled.
"There's something wrong with the chitties Sharpe demanded rudely.
"So there is, Sharpe, so there is. Our new clerk discovered the discrepancies. He's a smart young fellow. Sajit!»
The young clerk came into the room, clasped his hands and offered Torrance a slight bow.
"Sahib?"
"This is Ensign Sharpe, Sajit. He's by way of being my deputy and thus as much your sahib as I am."
Sajit offered Sharpe a bow.
"I am honoured, sahib."
"Perhaps you could show Mister Sharpe the problematical chitties Sajit?" Torrance suggested.
Sajit went back to the outer room and returned a moment later with a pile of the grubby paper slips. He placed them on the table, then invited Sharpe to inspect them. All the chitties had Sharpe's initials in the bottom right-hand corner, most of them in pencil, but some had been initialled in ink and Sharpe set those aside.
"I didn't sign any of those, " he said confidently.
"I don't have a pen and ink."
"You were right, Sajit! " Torrance said.
"You honour me, sahib, " Sajit said.
"And every chitty is a stolen anna, " Torrance said, 'so we have to discover which bullock men gave us the false ones. That's the problem, Sharpe."
"They've got names on them, " Sharpe said, pointing at the slips of paper.
"You hardly needed to drag me down here to tell you who they were issued to!»
"Please don't be tedious, Sharpe, " Torrance said plaintively.
"Ever since the General put a shot across our bows I am forced to be particular.
And the names mean nothing! Nothing! Look' he scooped up the chit ties — 'at least a dozen are assigned to Ram, whoever Ram is.
There are probably a dozen Rams out there. What I want you to do, Sharpe, is go round the encampment with Sajit and point out which men have visited the road. Sajit can then identify which bullock men are submitting false claims."
Sharpe frowned.
"Why doesn't Sajit just identify which men were ordered up the mountain? They must have got their chitties from him?"
"I want to be sure, Sharpe, I want to be sure! " Torrance pleaded.
"My testimony, sahib, would not be believed, " Sajit put in, 'but no one would doubt the word of an English officer."
"Bloody hell, " Sharpe said. The last thing he felt like doing was wandering about the bullock camp identifying drivers. He was not sure he could do it anyway.
"So why not summon the bullock men here?"
he demanded.
"The bad ones would run away, sahib, rather than come, " Sajit said.
"Best to ambush them in their encampment, Sharpe, " Torrance said.