"So you found it, eh?"
Lockhart still watched her.
"A rare-looking woman, that."
"Is she? I hadn't really noticed, " Sharpe lied.
"She said you'd been kind to her, " Lockhart said.
"Well, I tried to help, you know how it is, " Sharpe said awkwardly.
"That bloody man Torrance killed himself and she had nowhere to go. And you found her, eh? Most officers would try to take advantage of a woman like that, " Lockhart said.
"I'm not a proper officer, am I?" Sharpe replied. He had seen the way that Clare looked at the tall cavalryman, and how Lockhart had stared at her, and Sharpe reckoned that it was best to stand aside.
"I had a wife, " Lockhart said, 'only she died on the voyage out. Good little woman, she was."
"I'm sorry, " Sharpe said.
"And Mrs. Wall, " Lockhart went on, 'lost her husband." Widow meets widower. Any minute now, Sharpe thought, and the word fate would be used.
"It's destiny, " Lockhart said in a tone of wonderment.
"So what are you going to do about her?" Sharpe asked.
"She says she ain't got a proper home now, " Lockhart said, 'except the tent you lent her, and my Colonel won't mind me taking a wife."
"Have you asked her?"
"More or less, " Lockhart said, blushing.
"And she said yes?"
"More or less, " Lockhart said again, blushing more deeply.
"Bloody hell, " Sharpe said admiringly, 'that's quick!»
"Real soldiers don't wait, " Lockhart said, then frowned.
"I heard a rumour you'd been snaffled by the enemy?"
"Got away, " Sharpe said vaguely.
"Buggers were careless." He turned and watched as an errant rocket from the fort soared up into the cloudless sky to leave a thickening pile of smoke through which, eventually, it tumbled harmlessly to earth.
"Are you really joining the attack?" he asked Lockhart.
"Not in the front rank, " Lockhart said.
"I ain't a fool. But Colonel Huddlestone says we can go in and look for Dodd. So we'll wait for you boys to do the hard work, then follow."
"I'll look out for you."
"And we'll keep an eye on you, " Lockhart promised.
"But in the meantime I'll go and see if someone needs a needle threaded."
"You do that, " Sharpe said. He watched the cavalryman walk away, and saw, at the same time, that Ahmed had been evicted from Clare's tent with Sharpe's few belongings. The boy looked indignant, but Sharpe guessed their exile from the tent would not last long, for Clare would surely move to the cavalryman's quarters before nightfall. Ding dong, he thought, wedding bells. He took the pouch with its jewels from Ahmed, then, while his uniform was being tailored, he went to watch the guns gnaw and batter at the fort.
The young horseman who presented himself at the gate of Gawilghur's Inner Fort was tall, arrogant and self-assured. He was dressed in a white silk robe that was tied at the waist with a red leather belt from which a golden-hilted tulwar hung in a gem-encrusted scabbard, and he did not request that the gates be opened, but rather demanded it. There was, in truth, no good reason to deny his orders, for men were constantly traversing the ravine between the two forts and Dodd's Cobras were accustomed to opening and closing the gates a score of times each day, but there was something in the young man's demeanour that annoyed Gopal. So he sent for Colonel Dodd.
Dodd arrived a few moments later with the twitching English Sergeant at his side. The horseman rounded on Dodd, shouting at him to punish Gopal, but Dodd just spat, then turned to Hakeswill.
"Why would a man be riding a horse out of this gate?"
"Wouldn't know, sir, " Hakeswill said. The Sergeant was now dressed in a white coat that was crossed with a black sash as a sign of rank, though quite what rank the sash denoted was uncertain.
"There's nowhere to exercise a horse, " Dodd said, 'not unless he plans to ride through the Outer Fort into the English camp. Ask him his business, Gopal."
The young man refused to answer. Dodd shrugged, drew his pistol and aimed it at the horseman's head. He cocked the gun and the sound of the hammer engaging echoed loudly from the ramparts. The young man blanched and shouted at Gopal.
"He says, sahib, that he is on an errand for the Killadar, " Gopal explained to Dodd.
"What errand?" Dodd demanded. The young man plainly did not want to answer, but Dodd's grim face and the levelled pistol persuaded him to take a sealed packet from the pouch that hung from his belt.
He showed Dodd the Killadar's seal, but Dodd was not impressed by the red wax with its impression of a snake curled about a knife blade.
"Who is it addressed to?" he demanded, gesturing that the young man turn the package over.
The horseman obeyed and Dodd saw that the packet was addressed to the commanding officer of the British camp. It must have been written by a clerk who was unfamiliar with the English language, for it was atrociously spelt, but the words were unmistakable and Dodd stepped forward and seized the horse's bridle.
"Haul him out of the saddle, Gopal, " Dodd ordered, 'hold him in the guardroom and send a man to fetch Manu Bappoo."
The young man attempted a momentary resistance, even half drawing his tulwar from its precious scabbard, but a dozen of Dodd's men easily overpowered him. Dodd himself turned away and climbed the steps to the rampart, motioning Hakeswill to follow him.
"It's obvious what the Killadar is doing, " Dodd growled.
"He's trying to make peace."
"I thought we couldn't be defeated here, sir, " Hakeswill said in some alarm.
"We can't, " Dodd said, 'but Beny Singh is a coward. He thinks life should be nothing but women, music and games."
Which sounded just splendid to Obadiah Hakeswill, but he said nothing. He had presented himself to Dodd as an aggrieved British soldier who believed the war against the Mahrattas was unfair.
"We ain't got no business here, sir, " he had said, 'not in heathen land. It belongs to the blackamoors, don't it? And there ain't nothing here for a redcoat."
Dodd had not believed a word of it. He suspected Hakeswill had fled the British army to avoid trouble, but he could hardly blame the Sergeant for that. Dodd himself had done the same, and Dodd did not care about Hakeswill's motives, only that the Sergeant was willing to fight. And Dodd believed his men fought better when white men gave them orders.
"There's a steadiness about the English, Sergeant, " he had told Hakeswill, 'and it gives the natives bottom."
"It gives them what, sir?" Hakeswill had asked.
Dodd had frowned at the Sergeant's obtuseness.
"You ain't Scotch, are you?"
"Christ no, sir! I ain't a bleeding Scotchman, nor a Welshman.
English, sir, I am, through and through, sir." His face twitched.
"English, sir, and proud of it."
So Dodd had given Hakeswill a white jacket and a black sash, then put him in charge of a company of his Cobras.
"Fight well for me here, Sergeant, " he told Hakeswill when the two men reached the top of the rampart, 'and I'll make you an officer."
"I shall fight, sir, never you mind, sir. Fight like a demon, I will."
And Dodd believed him, for if Hakeswill did not fight then he risked being captured by the British, and God alone knew what trouble he would then face. Though in truth Dodd did not see how the British could penetrate the Inner Fort. He expected them to take the Outer Fort, for there they had a flat approach and their guns were already blasting down the breaches, but they would have a far greater problem in capturing the Inner Fort. He showed that problem now to Hakeswill.
"There's only one way in, Sergeant, and that's through this gate. They can't assault the walls, because the slope of the ravine is too steep. See?"