Sharpe's Peril Page #8

How soon? Richard,

the child is the wrong way about.

Ah, but you can help?

I don't know. I have helped deliver

a child before,

but not like this.

It may turn of its own will.

What if it doesn't?

It will be a difficult time.

In either case, she cannot be moved.

Argh!

# Bake me a cake as quick as you can

Let's do it again.

One...

# Pat a cake...

Is she sure?

Aye.

Well, that's that, then.

Come on. Let's have

a turn about the place.

It isn't much, Pat, but it will have

to serve.

We can hardly press on now.

It'd be a real pity to falter at the

last.

You do know the next garrison

is only a two-day hard march?

We haven't got two days.

Like as not, Dragomirov

will be upon us tomorrow.

It's here or nowhere.

It's as fine a place as any.

But I had hoped to see Ramona again.

And shall, Pat. And shall.

I suppose we've soldiered long

enough and hard enough

for you to not start lying to me

now.

But Dragomirov's troopers are well

seasoned.

And what's more,

they outnumber us six to one.

Good riflemen's odds.

Aye.

Except we've got no bloody riflemen.

Argh!

SCREAMING:

Argh!

HARPER:
What's happening?

It's all right, lass.

It's all right, come on.

What in the name of God is going on?

You're safe.

Dragomirov's. Scouting party.

Bring him down!

(SPEAKS BENGALI)

What's he say?

My Bengali is not so good, sir.

He thinks you were trying to harm

the girl. Me?

No, mate, you've got it wrong,

it were these buggers.

(SPEAKS BENGALI)

He is her father, sir, I think.

Lower your rifles.

Put them down.

(SPEAKS HINDI)

What did you ask him?

His name, sir.

My name is Chitu.

And you're right,

your Bengali is terrible.

Why would he come here?

My village grows no opium.

It's us he's after.

Then go.

Leave us alone.

You're not welcome here.

You're bringing trouble to my

village.

We can't go.

There is a good amount of powder and

shot.

Some canister also.

Whether the powder is still good...

Bugger the powder.

The thing has only got one wheel.

Lance-Naik Singh,

see what you can do.

How many are you?

CHITU:
All that you see.

Will they fight?

They are farmers.

So were I once.

The day comes a man has to decide.

Whether he stands to protect what he

holds dear...

..or bows himself

under another's will.

Musket at half cock.

Close the pan.

Ram the cartridge.

And...present arms.

WORMWOOD:
Look at him, eh.

Look. Bloody fool.

Anyone with sense would leave the

bastard to it, eh, lads?

Desertion is a hanging, Colour.

You think anyone will survive the

morrow to peach?

Who's gonna stop us, eh?

I reckon we'll take our chances

alongside Colonel Sharpe.

Is that what it is like, lads?

Aye.

Ah, well.

Maybe you're right.

It was an idle thought.

An unworthy one.

Think no more of it.

God knows, Silas Wormwood...

wouldn't leave his boys unfriended,

eh?

Eh?

I keep thinking there's summat I

forgot.

I think maybe there is one thing.

I've been told I've done you some

injury.

Told?

At least it would appear so.

I cannot speak to those things

of which you're charged.

But for my...misjudgement...

..and the treatment you've had of me

by it,

I offer apology.

You've no cause

to like the name of Hakeswill.

No. That's true.

But as a man,

you've done me no wrong.

Tomorrow, there is gonna be a battle.

I need every man able to face

Dragomirov.

Will you fight?

Free me.

Give me a rifle.

You shall see

whether I can fight or not.

I cannot free you.

You're in the army's charge

and I dare not interfere.

Yet you shall have a rifle.

Tomorrow.

Fine night.

Rain come morning. On the wind.

Aye. It's that.

Been long a soldier, Private Deever?

Nine years, sir.

What did you do before that?

Nothing, sir.

The army is all I know.

See, my Grampus fought for the

British at Lexington.

I'll be damned.

How my family come to England, sir.

And there's been a Deever in service

to His Majesty ever since.

Sir.

For the child, sir.

It ain't much, but it's all I own.

If...

I'll fight easier knowing she's took

care of.

I'll just hold onto it for you, Dan.

Till after the battle.

What's to do, Colour?

To do?

To do...

You must flee, man,

that's what to do.

Flee?

Sharpe wants to kill you.

That can't be.

I just heard him talking with that

slack-bellied Irishman.

I'm not taking any chances, says he.

Ye are to hang before the battle,

says he.

I don't understand.

What is to understand?

I'll not have murder done.

Not to my brave boy.

Not while you are in my charge, no.

By God, I'd sooner swing for it.

But where shall I go?

I've set you a mount.

Behind the byre yonder.

Get as far away as you can, lad.

And don't stop riding.

And don't never come near no

redcoats no more.

Else the army will have your neck.

Go now.

Go!

All quiet?

All quiet, sir.

It's a bloody miracle you worked

with this cannon, Lance-Naik.

I was taught of a great engineer,

sir.

From him I learned there is no

problem,

however so great it first appears,

to which the answer cannot be found.

You liked him?

He was my officer, sir.

It's gonna be hot work tomorrow.

No doubt, sir.

Your position must hold.

Yes, sir.

Sir.

If I may ask.

How fares the memsahib?

She's in the best of care.

Miss Bonnet is doing all she can.

I made the major sahib a promise.

That no harm would befall her.

You'll best serve her by holding

your post.

GUNSHO Guards! Guards!

The prisoner has escaped.

Corporal Hakeswill has gone, sir.

Turned loose all the horses

and left not a one behind.

And you said I had him wrong?

I knew the bastard

weren't to be trusted. Sir...

I don't want to hear it, Pat.

For all we know, he'll find

Dragomirov and sell us to him.

We might get him back, sir.

Colour Wormwood

has rode out after him.

Rode out?

Yeah.

And how's that?

When Corporal Hakeswill has turned

all the horses loose?

I don't know, sir, but he did.

All right, Deever.

Back to your post.

Sir.

WOMAN SHOUTING IN PAIN

Will you hear us confession,

Reverend?

Confession?

He can't take confession, Croop.

No, Private Quilter, you are

mistaken.

Confession is sanctioned

in The Order for the Visitation of

the Sick.

See.

What did you want to tell me about?

We is bad men, sir.

Go on.

Very bad men, sir.

Is that all?

No, sir.

It's the...

Tell him.

The crime of which Corporal Hakeswill

stands accused, sir...

He never done it, sir.

It was Colour Wormwood, sir.

How do you know this?

Because we helped him do it, sir.

Not the killing, sir.

That was his alone.

But the robbing, sir, that we did.

Now the bastard has run off

and left us to it, sir.

If we is bound for glory...

..and anyone else survives,

they could speak on our part at the

court martial, sir.

Else we thought you could take

a deposition of us, sir.

That we could put our mark to.

Who in God's name, are you?

Colour Wormwood, sir.

At your service.

My service?

You're searching for Colonel Sharpe,

are you not?

I'll tell you all you needs to know,

sir.

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