"You got 'em worried, that's why, " Garrard said.
"If you can become an officer, so can others." He saw the unhappiness on Sharpe's face.
"Wishing you'd stayed a sergeant, are you?"
«No,» Sharpe said, and surprised himself by saying it so firmly.
"I
can do the job, Tom."
"What job's that, for Christ's sake? Sitting around while we do all the bloody work? Having a servant to clean your boots and scrub your arse?"
«No,» Sharpe said, and he pointed across the shadowed chasm to the Inner Fort.
"When we go in there, Tom, we're going to need fellows who know what the hell they're doing. That's the job. It's beating hell out of the other side and keeping your own men alive, and I can do that."
Garrard looked sceptical.
"If they let you."
"Aye, if they let me, " Sharpe agreed. He sat in silence for a while, watching the far gun emplacement. He could see men there, but was not sure what they were doing.
"Where's Hakeswill?" he asked.
"I looked for him yesterday, and the bugger wasn't on parade with the rest of you."
«Captured,» Garrard said.
"Captured?"
"That's what Morris says. Me, I think the bugger ran. Either ways, he's in the fort now."
"You think he ran?"
"We had two fellows murdered the other night. Morris says it were the enemy, but I didn't see any of the buggers, but there was some fellow creeping round saying he was a Company colonel, only he weren't." Garrard stared at Sharpe and a slow grin came to his face.
"It were you, Dick."
"Me?" Sharpe asked straight-faced.
"I was captured, Tom. Only escaped yesterday."
"And I'm the king of bloody Persia. Lowry and Kendrick were meant to arrest you, weren't they?"
"It was them who died?" Sharpe asked innocently.
Garrard laughed.
"Serve them bloody right. Bastards, both of them."
An enormous blossom of smoke showed at the distant wall on the top of the cliffs. Two seconds later the sound of the great gun bellowed all around Sharpe and Garrard, while the massive round shot struck the stalled limber just behind the enfilading battery. The wooden vehicle shattered into splinters and all five men were hurled to the ground where they jerked bloodily for a few seconds and then were still.
Fragments of stone and wood hissed past Sharpe.
"Bloody hell, " Garrard said admiringly, 'five men with one shot!»
"That'll teach 'em to keep their heads down, " Sharpe said. The sound of the enormous gun had drawn men from their tents towards the plateau's edge. Sharpe looked round and saw that Captain Morris was among them. The Captain was in his shirtsleeves, staring at the great cloud of smoke through a telescope.
"I'm going to stand up in a minute, " Sharpe said, 'and you're going to hit me."
"I'm going to do what?" Garrard asked.
"You're going to thump me. Then I'm going to run, and you're going to chase me. But you're not to catch me."
Garrard offered his friend a puzzled look.
"What are you up to, Dick?"
Sharpe grinned.
"Don't ask, Tom, just do it."
"You are a bloody officer, aren't you?" Garrard said, grinning back.
"Don't ask, just do it."
"Are you ready?" Sharpe asked "I've always wanted to clobber an officer."
"On your feet then." They stood.
"So hit me, " Sharpe said.
"I've tried to pinch some cartridges off you, right? So give me a thump in the belly."
"Bloody hell, " Garrard said.
"Go on, do it!»
Garrard gave Sharpe a half-hearted punch, and Sharpe shoved him back, making him fall, then he turned and ran along the cliff's edge.
Garrard shouted, scrambled to his feet and began to pursue. Some of the men who had gone to fetch the five bodies moved to intercept Sharpe, but he dodged to his left and disappeared among some bushes.
The rest of the 33rd's Light Company was whooping and shouting in pursuit, but Sharpe had a long lead on them and he twisted in and out of the shrubs to where he had picketed one of Syud Sevajee's horses. He pulled the peg loose, hauled himself into the saddle and kicked back his heels. Someone yelled an insult at him, but he was clear of the camp now and there were no mounted picquets to pursue him.
A half-hour later Sharpe returned, trotting with a group of native horsemen coming back from a reconnaissance. He peeled away from them and dismounted by his tent where Ahmed waited for him While Sharpe and Garrard had made the diversion the boy had been thieving and he grinned broadly as Sharpe ducked into the hot tent.
"I have every things, " Ahmed said proudly.
He had taken Captain Morris's red coat, his sash and his sword-belt with its sabre.
"You're a good lad, " Sharpe said. He needed a red coat, for Colonel Stevenson had given orders that every man who went into Gawilghur with the attackers must be in uniform so that they were not mistaken for the enemy. Syud Sevajee's men, who planned to hunt down Beny Singh, had been issued with some threadbare old sepoys' jackets, some of them still stained with the blood of their previous owners, but none of the jackets had fitted Sharpe. Even Morris's coat would be a tight fit, but at least he had a uniform now.
"No trouble?"
Sharpe asked Ahmed.
"No bugger saw me, " the boy said proudly. His English was improving every day, though Sharpe worried that it was not quite the King's English. Ahmed grinned again as Sharpe gave him a coin that he stuffed into his robes.
Sharpe folded the jacket over his arm and stooped out of the tent.
He was looking for Clare and saw her a hundred paces away, walking with a tall soldier who was dressed in a shirt, black trousers and spurred boots. She was deep in conversation, and Sharpe felt a curious pang of jealousy as he approached, but then the soldier turned round, frowned at Sharpe's ragged appearance, then recognized the man under the head cloth. He grinned.
"Mister Sharpe, " he said.
"Eli Lockhart, " Sharpe said.
"What the hell are the cavalry doing here?" He jerked his thumb towards the fort that was edged with white smoke as the defenders tried to hammer the British batteries.
"This is a job for real soldiers."
"Our Colonel persuaded the General that Mister Dodd might make a run for it. He reckoned a dozen cavalrymen could head him off."
"Dodd won't run, " Sharpe said.
"He won't have space to get a horse out."
"So we'll go in with you, " Lockhart said.
"We've got a quarrel with Mister Dodd, remember?"
Clare was looking shy and alarmed, and Sharpe reckoned she did not want Sergeant Lockhart to know that she had spent time with Ensign Sharpe.
"I was looking for Mrs. Wall, " he explained to Lockhart.
"If you can spare me a few minutes, Ma'am?"
Clare shot Sharpe a look of gratitude.
"Of course, Mister Sharpe."
"It's this jacket, see?" He held out Morris's coat.
"It's got red facings and turn backs and I need white ones He took off his head cloth.
"I
wondered if you could use this. I know it's a bit filthy, and I hate to trouble you, Ma'am, but I don't reckon my sewing's up to making turn backs cuffs and collars."
"You could take that captain's badge off while you're about it, love, " Lockhart suggested to Clare, 'and the skirmisher's wings. Don't reckon Mister Sharpe wants that coat's real owner to recognize it."
"I'd rather he didn't, " Sharpe admitted.
Clare took the coat, gave Sharpe another grateful look, then hurried towards Sevajee's tents. Lockhart watched her go.
"Been wanting a chance to talk to her for three years, " he said wonderingly.