"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.
"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.