Sharpe's Challenge Page #3

Well, I won't have it, sir.

Sepoys they may be,

but this is a Christian army

and I will see things done the Christian way.

There's no doubting that.

What's your business here, Sharpe?

My business is with General Burroughs.

Indeed.

-How long?

-About a month or so.

The fever ebbs and flows but, alas,

never leaves him in sufficient health to command.

So who's in charge?

Back so soon, General. I thought you to be

at your pleasure some time yet.

Bad tidings, McRae, bad tidings.

And no worse a messenger

to bring 'em than Richard Sharpe.

That would be, uh, Colonel Sharpe, sir.

I do not remember Mr Sharpe

as holding a commission in this army.

I'm here at the express wish

of Horse Guard, General.

See if you can remember that.

London wants this uprising

put down hard and fast, before it spreads.

My orders are

to lend what aid I can in that regard.

Then you are indeed welcome

to our company, Colonel.

Hector McRae,

special advisor to General Burroughs.

John Stokes, Major of Engineers.

Glad of the acquaintance, Colonel.

-This is my fellow traveller...

-Mr Harper, isn't it?

-I'd a fine bay mare of you some months back.

-That you did.

I hope she's giving you good service, sir.

You should be wary of this one, McRae.

He thinks

'cause Wellington raised him up from the sewer

that it somehow makes him a gentleman.

-But he don't know his place. Do you, Sharpe?

-Maybe not.

But I know I had to stand before a French column.

I know how to face fire without

soiling my breeches and turning tail.

You spoke of bad news, General.

I regret to report that the escort transporting

General Burroughs' daughter

was overcome by a force of Khande Rao's men.

Miss Burroughs and Captain Lawrence

have been taken captive.

You see, McRae, what did I tell you?

Bad tidings indeed.

First General Burroughs indisposed, now this.

I shall send to Agra for reinforcements

and further orders.

Further orders? What further orders do you need?

The second rule of war, Sharpe,

which you'd know if you'd ever learned anything

beyond insolence towards your superiors,

is never reinforce failure.

Oh, I know that rule.

Though by that bird sh*t on your shoulder,

it seems this army's resolved

to prove you its living exception.

Sir, if Major Stokes' artillery

is to breach the walls of Ferraghur,

we must move against the fortress

before the rains come.

I shall consider your advice, of course, McRae.

And what does that mean?

-We wait?

-We wait, sir.

What of General Burroughs' daughter?

(DOOR OPENING)

Do not be afraid. I am the Rani Lalima.

Sister to His Highness.

Well, what do you want?

To gloat on my misfortune?

I thought perhaps...

Do you imagine I would accept anything

from you after all you've done?

My father will not stand idly by, madame.

Even now, he will be marshalling his army.

(DOOR CLOSING)

(SHOUTING ORDERS)

(MAN COMMANDING IN HINDI)

(SHOUTING ORDERS)

I must admit,

despite his being a Frenchman,

Gudin is making progress.

And when will they be ready?

Soon, Madhuvanthi.

Soon.

And after you've made the Plains

run red with English blood,

once you have ground them into the dirt,

what then, my love?

Patience, Madhuvanthi.

Patience?

Have I not been patient?

And more.

You know it.

Did I put Khande Rao on his father's throne

for your ambition to fail you now?

Have we not come far already?

Or do you forget?

A Company lieutenant with no prospect

of advancement and a favoured courtesan.

Now I am a general

and you a regent.

I shall not be Regent forever.

Soon Khande Rao will attain his majority

and I shall be put aside.

But perhaps you weary of me, my love.

Is that it?

You want someone younger to rule beside you.

Lalima, perhaps.

I've seen how you watch after where she walks.

I'd keep a close eye on her

because I do not think she's entirely to be trusted.

She's of no consequence.

She'll do as her brother orders

and if she does not, she'll suffer for it.

All I ask, my love,

is that you do not make me wait too long

for what is rightfully ours.

When I tells you to shine my boots, Private,

I means I wants them gleaming!

But, Sergeant Bickerstaff, you know full well

that as a Hindu to work with...

Oh!

A Hindu says he. A Hindu.

What's a Hindu then, eh?

Know what I bloody hates the livelong day?

There's no Hindus here!

Neither the Hindu nor Musulman

nor gabardine Joe!

You signed on as a soldier, Private,

and a soldier I'll make of you yet.

I signed on to fight for your army,

not to clean your boot for you.

Do you tell me, boy?

I can see Shadrach Bickerstaff

has to teach you better to mind your manners.

-All right, stand off, Sergeant.

-Mind your damn business!

Don't make me tell you again.

Who the bloody hell are you to give me orders?

You're no Company officer.

No, Sergeant Bickerstaff, I'm not.

I'm from a proper army

that knows how to deal

with bullying bastards like you!

Now, you raise your arm to this man

one more time for no reason,

and you'll have me to deal with. Now stand off.

-Oh, what's it to you?

-What's it to me?

Nowt, beyond I know what it's like

to be on the end of a sergeant's beating.

-Now stand off!

-Easier to be brave

with rank and noon sunlight behind.

I hope you sleep light, Colonel.

Lest you find some morning

you wake up to find your throat slit.

-Is that a threat, Sergeant?

-Take it as you please.

Oh, I do. So come on,

let's sort it out here and now. Just you and me.

(LAUGHING)

I weren't born yesterday neither, Colonel.

'Tis a hanging offence to strike at an officer.

-But like you said, I'm no Company officer.

-All the same.

I'll not hit a man wearing the King's uniform.

No? No? Well, that's easily remedied.

Officers!

I've shat 'em.

Shadrach.

All right, all right! Clear off.

Next time I give an order,

you bloody jump to, understood?

Aye, sir.

Richard!

Come on to me with a knife, will you?

You little gutless bastard!

Had enough, Shadrach?

(BELLS JINGLING)

The French heavy cavalry came on in good order,

the morning sun glinting on their sword tips.

But my heart was not dismayed.

What do you say, Stokes, which suits better?

Glinting or glimmering?

Stokes!

-Sir?

-Glinting or glimmering?

Um...

-As you have it, sir. As you have it.

-Yes, yes, I think so, too.

Glinting. Set it down, set it down.

My troops as one, look to their leader for, for...

What? What is this?

I have said that when I am about

my literary business, I am not to be disturbed.

What is it?

A message from Khande Rao.

Poor Captain Lawrence.

They killed him with a nail, McRae.

A nail driven into his skull!

It was, General, but not by any hammer.

This is the work of jetties,

professional strong men.

Killing people in interesting ways

is part of their remit.

There's a note along with the thing.

Written in their heathen script.

Perhaps you'd oblige me, McRae.

It is a short message and to the purpose, General.

If we attack Ferraghur, Khande Rao

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