Sharpe's Challenge Page #7

(MEN CHATTERING IN HINDI)

Who are you? What do you want?

I... I am looking for Colonel Gudin, sir.

He's my officer.

Could you tell me where I am, sir?

I think I'm a bit lost.

This is western gatehouse.

And you have no business here.

You can see there's no Colonel Gudin here.

-Out!

-Aye, sir.

-Out!

-Thank you, thank you very much, sir.

A mine? Where?

The western rampart.

There's a tunnel underneath the old gatehouse.

Leads to the inner wall.

And it's stacked high with gunpowder.

God save Ireland.

I can see them now, coming on, flags flying.

A forlorn hope storming into the breach.

Yeah, but it won't be a breach that they find.

Just a tight bloody corridor

and nowhere to go but along it.

Jesus.

They'll be trapped between

the inner and outer walls.

Yeah.

And all the while, Dodd will be sat there waiting,

ready to blow the whole bloody army

straight to hell.

(DODD BARKING ORDERS)

Sergeant, can you use a sword?

Aye, sir, sometimes, sir, when I need to.

Good. Then oblige me. It's been a while

since I matched steel with an Englishman.

Begging your pardon, sir,

but I'm drilled as a rifleman

and no match for Your Generalship.

I'll be the judge of that. Choose your blade.

I'd sooner not, sir, if it's all right with you.

Choose your blade.

So, what brings you to His Highness's service?

As we told Colonel Gudin, sir...

(GRUNTING)

-You weren't ready for me?

-No, sir.

Well, let that serve as a lesson to you.

The enemy won't announce his intention

to strike and neither will I.

-That's better, Sharpe, much better.

-I learn fast, sir.

So it seems.

What about yourself, sir? If I might ask.

What brought you into His Highness' service?

I was a lieutenant in the East India Company

for six years, six bloody years.

You see, in the Company, it doesn't matter

how good a soldier a man might be

if he hasn't got the money.

He's got to wait his turn.

I watched wealthy, young idiots

buy themselves majorities in the King's ranks,

whilst I had to bow

and scrape to the useless bastards.

''Yes, sir. No, sir.

''Three bags bloody full, sir.''

-I thought this was just practising.

-You're holding back.

Is that how you'll fight the red-coats

when it comes to close quarters?

Test me, man! Test me!

I think you should've joined the King's army, sir.

-Get up!

-You got me, sir.

Come.

Let's refresh ourselves.

-I'll have a surgeon look at your wounds.

-No, sir.

You let me win easily, I know you did.

I know why too.

It's not done in the British army

to let a ranker best an officer.

But you're not in the British army now.

You have courage, ability,

and you were born to live poor

and die in the ranks.

Another name on the butcher's bill.

-A soldier's fate, sir.

-Not in my army.

I'll show those English bastards

what a man can do.

You're an Englishman yourself, aren't you, sir?

Once. Maybe.

Now, I see a red-coat,

all I wanna do is start killing.

Is that what happened at Chasalgaon?

Why the hell do you ask that?

You hear tales in the ranks, sir.

Rumours. I just wondered what happened.

I made a reputation, that's what happened.

I put Chasalgaon to the sword.

Company troops and civilians alike.

Every last man, woman and child. No prisoners.

You see, when men fight me, Sergeant,

I want them to fear me.

That way the battle's half won

before it's even begun.

# Rock of Ages

# Cleft for me

# Let me hide myself in Thee

# Let the water and the blood #

(MAN CHATTERING)

Who gave you orders to take a breather?

Get to work, you lazy brown bastard,

unless you want a flogging!

Here.

Give us a drop in my pan.

Thirsty work is this.

(EXPLOSION)

As you were, you gutless heathens!

That's our pieces firing!

Those buggers out there ain't got no chance

of hitting us in this rain.

(MEN SCREAMING)

We must clear the enemy from the woods, sir,

if I'm to bring my pieces

up to bear against the west.

You have my mind exactly, Stokes.

We'll put some cannon to them,

flush the buggers out.

First the cannon, then we'll send the beaters in.

Be ready to advance at dusk.

(GASPING)

Oh, stop moaning.

God almighty, that was a close call.

What were you thinking?

What kind of a bloody common soldier

handles a blade as well as that, huh?

I let him beat me, didn't I?

Oh yeah, sure you did, yeah.

It's as fine a piece of playacting I've seen

outside of Mr Kemble's Coriolanus.

I didn't think you cared for

Mr Kemble in that part.

In any event you should have just

killed the bastard and been done with it.

He'll get his, Pat. Don't you worry about that.

The time of my choosing. My place, not his.

Sergeant Sharpe, you are summoned

to the palace.

It is called the Vadavaka.

The Mare's Trick.

Mmm-hmm.

And can only be perfected with long practice.

Oh. I don't doubt it, ma'am.

Oh, I expect it's more impressive

in its beholding than in its achievement,

like any cavalry manoeuvre.

You fought well, Sergeant.

On the parade ground.

There aren't many men

who could best General Dodd.

If you recall, ma'am,

the General had the better of me.

No false modesty. You let him win.

I don't deny that General Dodd has been

a useful ally to this house, these past years.

But to place all our hopes

on the shoulders of one man...

What if he were to weary of such a burden?

Or that some lucky shot should

take him from our service.

Who then would we look to for guidance?

-His Highness, ma'am.

-Khande Rao?

He's just a boy.

Ferraghur needs a strong

and experienced hand upon her,

if she's to blossom as she should.

Why have you brought me here?

I would know you better, Sergeant.

Come.

Sit with me.

Shall I command you?

No woman commands me.

(MADHUVANTHI LAUGHING)

You would refuse me?

I have been loved by kings.

You know who I am?

(SCOFFING)

I know what you are.

That's how you want it, ma'am? Eh?

Nice and hard?

Off a ranker with the drill sweat still on him?

Or is this another test of my loyalty?

Is that it?

The General sat next door,

listening to which way I'm gonna jump next?

Well, if that's your game, I'll have none of it.

If that were all, ma'am?

Get out.

Get out!

(MAN SHOUTING IN HINDI)

Sir, Captain Mohan Singh, requesting permission

to join this evening's attack on the tope, sir.

I fear your lancers will be of little use

in yon forest of the night, Captain.

The action's best disposed by foot.

I'd still like to volunteer, sir,

to be duty officer, whatever troops you use.

I see.

Medals and glory, eh, is that it?

Two years ago, my family were murdered

by Pindari bandits,

much like those same dogs

that presently swarm about the tope.

A battle's no place for private vengeance, Captain.

Not when there's a job to be done.

Sir, whether I kill for my blood

or for the sake of His Britannic Majesty,

a dead bandit is a dead bandit.

Very well, if you're so resolved.

-I suppose you must go.

-Thank you, sir.

(MAN SINGING IN HINDI)

Inform His Highness that I wish to speak to him.

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