under Dubreton's orders, which was equally untrue. A dangerous man, Sharpe knew, and a man whose emnity could stretch far into the future.
Dubreton sat, tapped ash onto a plate, and turned to Sir Augustus. 'Do I have your decision, Sir Augustus?
Farthingdale touched the white bandage that hid part of his silver hair. His voice was very precise. 'You wish us to leave the valley at nine tomorrow morning, yes?’
’Indeed.
'After which you have orders to destroy the watchtower?’
’Yes.
'Following which you will go home.’Precisely! Dubreton smiled, poured brandy and offered the bottle towards Sharpe.
Sharpe shook his head. He blew out a plume of smoke. 'Why do you want us to leave the valley before you destroy the watchtower? Couldn't we watch from the Castle?
Dubreton smiled, knowing the question to be as false as the information he had already given to Sir Augustus. 'Of course you can watch.
Farthingdale frowned at Sharpe. 'Your interest is laudable, Major, but Colonel Dubreton has already given us good reason why it would be sensible for us to leave.
Dubreton nodded. 'We have another three Battalions of Infantry in the next village. He shrugged, and swirled the brandy in his glass. 'They have come as a marching exercise, a hardening of young troops, and much as I appreciate your company, Major, I fear that too many troops in the valley might be explosive.
So Dubreton was willing to reveal part of his hand, Sharpe guessed because the Colonel had realized that Farthingdale could be scared off with numbers. Sharpe leaned back. 'You have orders to destroy the watchtower?
‘Yes.’
’Strange.
Dubreton smiled. 'It has been used in the past by Partisans. It is a danger to us, but not to you, I would suggest.
Sharpe tapped his own cigar ash onto the floor. He heard the laughter of the women in the next room. 'I thought these hills were little used by ourselves, yourselves, or the partisans. Four Battalions seem a strong force to destroy one small tower.
'Sharpe! Farthingdale had lit one of his own cigars, longer and fatter than Dubreton's. 'If the French want to make a fool of themselves by blowing up a useless tower, then it's none of our business.
'If the French want something, sir, then it's our business to deny it them. Sharpe's voice was harsh.
'I don't need you to tell me my duty, Major! Sir Augustus' voice was angry. Dubreton watched silent. The hand touched the bandage again, 'Colonel Dubreton had given us his word. He will withdraw when his task is done. There is no need for a useless confrontation in this valley. You may wish a fight, Major, to burnish your laurels, but my job is done. I have destroyed Pot-au-Feu, retaken our deserters, and our orders are to go home!
Sharpe smiled. They were not Farthingdale's orders, they had been Kinney's orders, and now Kinney was in his grave looking westward at the hills, and Farthingdale had fallen into this command. Sharpe blew smoke at the ceiling, looked at Dubreton. 'You will go home?
'Yes, Major.
'And you call yourselves ‘the Army of Portugal’, yes?
Silence. Sharpe knew he was right. The French maintained three armies in the west of Spain; the Army of the North, the Army of the Centre, and the Army of Portugal. Dubreton's home was across the border, his words had been deliberately misleading, though not enough to compromise his honour.
Dubreton ignored Sharpe. He looked, instead at Sir Augustus, and he put steel into his voice. 'I have four Battalions of infantry, Sir Augustus, and can summon more within a day. I have my orders, however foolish they may seem, and I intend to carry them out. I will begin my operations at nine o'clock tomorrow morning. I leave the choice to you whether you care to obstruct them.
Dubreton knew his man. Sir Augustus saw the odds, and saw the French bayonets coming through the war-smoke, and he folded spinelessly in front of the threat. 'And you say we can withdraw unmolested?
'Our truce is extended to nine o'clock in the morning, Sir Augustus. That should give you ample time to distance yourself from Adrados.
Farthingdale nodded. Sharpe could hardly believe what he was seeing, though he had known other officers like this, officers who had bought their way to high rank without ever seeing the enemy and who ran away the first moment they did. Farthingdale pushed at the table, scraping his chair back. 'We will leave at dawn.
'Splendid! Dubreton raised his brandy glass. 'I drink to such sense!
Sharpe dropped his cigar butt on the floor. 'Colonel Dubreton?
'Major?
Sharpe had cards to play now, but in a different game, and he must play them carefully. 'Sir Augustus had led a gallant attack today, as you can see.
'Indeed. Dubreton looked at the white bandage. Farth-ingdale's peevish face looked suspiciously at Sharpe.
'I've no doubt, sir, that the story of this morning's attack will bring nothing but glory to Sir Augustus. Farthingdale's face, in the presence of such praise, showed only more suspicion. Sharpe raised an eyebrow. 'Sadly the despatch will have to record that Sir Augustus received an injury while leading troops into the breach. Sharpe leaned forward. 'I have known times, Colonel, when such an injury caused a serious relapse during the night.
'We must pray that doesn't happen, Major. Dubreton said.
'And we'll be grateful for your prayers, sir. However, if it does, then the command of the British troops will fall on my unworthy shoulders.
'So?
'And I will exercise that command.
'Sharpe! Farthingdale protested, quite rightly. 'You take too much on yourself, Major! I have made my decision, given my word, and I will not tolerate this insult. You will accept my orders!
'Of course, sir. I apologize.
Dubreton understood. Sharpe, too, had been protecting his honour, disassociating himself from Farthingdale's decision, and the Frenchman had caught the message Sharpe had wished to convey. He held up a hand. 'We shall pray that Sir Augustus' health lasts the night, and in the morning, Major, we will know he has happily lived if we see that you have withdrawn.
'Yes, sir.
They stayed a half-hour more then made their farewells. Soldiers brought horses to the door, officers pulled on cloaks or greatcoats and stood to one side to allow Josefina to mount her horse. Sir Augustus mounted beside her, pulled his hat low over the bandage, and looked at the British officers at the inn door. 'All Company officers to my quarters in a half hour. All! That includes you, Sharpe. He raised a gloved finger to the tassel of his hat and nodded at Dubreton.
The French Colonel held Sharpe aside. 'I will remember my debt to you, Sharpe.
'There's no debt in my mind, sir.
'I'm a better judge. He smiled. 'Are you going to fight us tomorrow?
'I shall obey orders, sir.
'Yes. Dubreton watched the first horses leave. He brought a bottle of brandy from behind his back. 'To keep you warm on your march tomorrow.
'Thank you, sir.
'And a happy New Year, Major.
Sharpe mounted and walked his horse after the receding officers. Harry Price hung back for him, fell in alongside, and when they were well out of earshot the Lieutenant looked at his tall Major. 'Are we really going tomorrow morning, sir?
'No, Harry. Sharpe grinned at him, but the grin hid his real feelings. Many Riflemen and many Fusiliers, Sharpe knew, would never leave the high place in the hills that was called the Gateway of God. They had had their
