'They'll treat you well, sir, I'm sure. They'll probably send you back to France.
'I'd like that, Gudin said and suddenly realized that was all he really did want. 'Your Private Sharpe. he said.
'Sergeant Sharpe now, sir.
'Your Sergeant Sharpe, then. He's a good man, Lieutenant.
'Yes, sir, Lawford said, 'he is.
'If he lives, he'll go far.
'If he lives, sir, yes. And if the army lets him live, Lawford thought.
'Look after him, Lieutenant, Gudin said. 'An army isn't made of its officers, you know, though we officers like to think it is. An army is no better than its men, and when you find good men, you must look after them. That's an officer's job.
'Yes, sir, Lawford said dutifully. The first fugitives from the walls were visible at the end of the alley now, men in dust-smeared tiger tunics who staggered or limped away from the fighting. The noise of that fight was the continuous staccato of musket fire, shouts and screams, and it could not be long before the first murderous attackers broke into the streets. Lawford wondered if he should have demanded Gudin's sword, then worried about having allowed Sharpe to go off on his own.
Sharpe lived so far. He had thought about putting on his red coat, then decided there was no point in making himself conspicuous, even though the coat was now so filthy that it hardly looked like a uniform any more, and so he left the turned jacket knotted about his neck and, with two muskets slung on each shoulder, ran northwards through the city. The crackle of muskets was constant, but above that crisp sound he could also hear the roar of maddened men going into a brutal fight. In a few minutes that fight would spread into the city and Sharpe planned to use those minutes well. He ran through the small square where the rocket carts were still parked and then hurried past the Inner Palace where a tiger-striped guard, thinking that Sharpe was a deserter from the Tippoo's European troops, shouted a challenge at him, but by the time the guard had cocked his musket Sharpe had already disappeared into the labyrinth of alleys and yards that lay to the north of the palace.
He pushed through a crowd of fearful women, passed the cheetah cages and so went back to the dungeons. The bodies of the three jettis were crawling with flies and beyond them the outer gate of the dungeons still swung open. Sharpe ran through the gate and jumped down the stairs to where his tiger lay dead.
'Sharpie! Hakeswill came to the bars. 'You came back, lad! I knew you would. So what's happening, lad? No! Don't do that! Hakeswill had seen Sharpe take a musket from his shoulder. 'I like you, boy, always have! I might have seemed a bit hard on you at times, but only for your own good, Sharpie. You're a good boy, you are. You're a proper soldier. No! Sharpe had aimed the musket.
Sharpe turned the muzzle away from Hakeswill and aimed it at the padlock. He did not want to waste time with the picklock so he simply held the musket against the ancient loop of the padlock and pulled the trigger. The iron loop sheared and the lock fell from the hasp. Sharpe dragged the cell door open. 'I've come to get you, Obadiah, he said.
'Knew you would, Sharpie, knew you would. Hakeswill's face twitched. 'Knew you wouldn't leave your sergeant to rot.
'So come on out, Sharpe said.
Hakeswill hung back. 'No hard feelings, lad?
T'm not a lad, Obadiah. I'm a sergeant like you are. I've got Colonel Wellesley's promise, I have. I'm a sergeant now, just like you.
'So you are, so you are, and so you should be. Hakeswill's face twitched again. 'I said as much to Mister Morris, didn't I? That Sharpie, I said, he's a sergeant in the making if ever I did see one. A good lad, I told him. Got my eye on him, sir. That's what I told Mister Morris.
Sharpe smiled. 'So come on out here, Obadiah.
Hakeswill backed all the way to the cell's rear wall. 'Better to stay here, Sharpie, he said. 'You know what the lads are like when their blood's boiling. Might get hurt out there. Best to stay put a while, let the lads settle it first, eh?
Sharpe crossed the cell in two strides and gripped Hakeswill's collar. 'You come with me, you bastard, he said, tugging the whimpering Sergeant forward. 'I should kill you here, you scum, but you don't deserve a soldier's death, Obadiah. You're too rotten for a bullet.
'No, Sharpie, no! Hakeswill screamed as Sharpe dragged him out of the cell, across the tiger's carcass and up the stone steps. 'I ain't done nothing to you!
'Nothing! Sharpe turned furiously on Hakeswill. 'You had me flogged, you bastard, and then you betrayed us!
'I never did! Cross my heart and hope to die, Sharpie!
Sharpe spun Hakeswill up against the bars of the dungeon's outer cage, slamming him against the iron rods, then punched the Sergeant in the chest. 'You're going to die, Obadiah, I promise. Because you did betray us.
'I didn't do nothing, Hakeswill said through his laboured breathing. 'On my mother's dying breath, Sharpie, I didn't. The flogging, yes. I did do that to you, and I was wrong! He tried to fall to his knees, but Sharpe dragged him upright. 'I didn't betray you, Sharpie. I wouldn't do that to another Englishman.
'You'll still be telling lies when you go dirough the gates of hell, Obadiah, Sharpe said as he grabbed the Sergeant's collar again. 'Now come on, you bastard. He pulled Hakeswill through the dungeon's outer gate, across the courtyard and into the alley which led south towards the palace. A squad of tiger-striped soldiers ran past the mouth of the alley, going to the western walls, but none took any notice of Sharpe. The guard on the northern palace gate did notice him and levelled his musket, but Sharpe snarled the magic words at the man, 'Gudin! Colonel Gudin, and such was the confidence in Sharpe's voice that the guard lowered the musket and stepped aside.
'Where are you taking me, Sharpie? Hakeswill panted.
'You'll find out.
Two more guards were stationed at the inner courtyard gate and they too pointed their muskets, but Sharpe shouted at them and once again Gudin's name was a talisman sufficient to allay their suspicions. Besides, Sharpe had a red-coated prisoner, and the two nervous guards mistook him for one of Gudin's men and so let him pass.
Sharpe lifted the gate's latch and dragged it open. The six tigers, already disturbed by the terrible noises that had been battering about the city, leapt towards the opening gate and their six chains cracked taut. Hakeswill saw the animals and screamed. 'No, Sharpie! No! Mother!
Sharpe dragged the struggling Hakeswill into the courtyard. 'You reckon you can't die, Obadiah? I reckon different. So when you get to hell, you bastard, tell them it was Sergeant Sharpe who sent you.
'No, Sharpie! No! This last word was a yelp of despair as Sharpe pulled Hakeswill into the centre of the courtyard and there spun him around at arm's length. 'No! the Sergeant wailed as Sharpe spun him faster, then Sharpe suddenly let go of Hakeswill's collar. The Sergeant was unbalanced and out of control. He staggered and flailed his arms, but nothing could stop his momentum. 'No! he screamed a last time as he fell and slid across the sand to where three tigers waited.
'Goodbye, Obadiah, Sharpe said, 'you bastard.
'I cannot die! Hakeswill screamed, then his cry was cut off as a great yellow-eyed beast growled above him.
'They've got an early supper, Sharpe told the bemused guards on the gate. 'Hope they've got an appetite.
The guards, not understanding a word, grinned back. Sharpe took one look behind, spat, and walked away. A debt, he reckoned, was properly paid. Now all he needed to do was hide till the redcoats came. And then he saw the pearl-hung palanquin, and another debt came to mind.
For a time it seemed as if the Tippoo could hold his city. He fought like a tiger himself, knowing that this blaze of violence beneath a smoke-shrouded sun would decide his fate. It would be the tiger throne or the grave.
He did not know what was happening on the southern stretch of the walls, except that the distant fury of constant musket fire told him that fighting continued there; he only knew that he and his men were taking a terrible toll of the attackers on the northern wall. The Tippoo had been forced slowly back by the sheer weight of
