CHAPTER EIGHT

It was five days later that they met up with Baird's reinforcements. Among them were the rest of the 95th, led by Colonel Wade. There was much back-slapping as people were reunited with old comrades. Dunnett was at his most obsequious as his time as battalion commander came to an end, saluting Wade smartly. "A pleasure to have you back, sir."

"Thank you, Major,"Wade replied simply. "Is there anything to report?"

"No, sir, it's been quite uneventful."

Wade's gaze flickered over to Sharpe. "Lieutenant. I heard that you had an adventure of your own."

"I was travelling with a cavalry patrol as part of my duties,"Sharpe replied. He didn't want to go into too much detail about how he'd ended up there. "We came across two Spanish villages that had been attacked by the French. We managed to get the survivors to safety."

Wade nodded. "Good, Sharpe, good. That is what we're here for after all."

The praise was enough to convince Sharpe that he might be able to ask a favour. "I wonder if I might travel with the cavalry again. As part of my duties."

Wade looked at him for a long moment, sensing there was more to Sharpe's request. "At your discretion, Sharpe, I will allow you a certain amount of leeway. But I think there is someone else you are acquainted with who may be able to help you more."

Miles away, another officer was having similar thoughts to Sharpe. Laurent was looking over his men. Good men, but so many faces missing. Faces that hadn't been replaced. The 1st Provisional Chasseurs was short of men. And the blame lay with the British, who had seen fit to interfere in the French conquest of Spain.

"You seem troubled, Colonel,"noted General Dabelle.

Laurent gave his commander a cursory glance and a cursory salute. He knew he had to show the respect that a superior office was due. "I am thinking of what we have lost, sir."

Dabelle nodded. "Their sacrifice will not be for nothing. This country will be ours and all those who deny our right to it will be swept aside."

Laurent heard the words and believed them. But there was more. He dreamed of meeting the British who had killed his men, of slaughtering them like the dogs they were. He knew it was a vain dream, that he had little chance of seeing those men again. But he would kill every British cavalryman he encountered and their blood would match that of his men drop for drop.

Loitering where a senior officer could find him was not one of Sharpe's favourite past-times. But then, walking in on a senior officer was something he was even less fond of. In general, he tended to avoid senior officers as much as possible but he needed the help of one now. Eventually, he was rewarded with the approach of Baird. Sharpe stood to attention and shouted "Sir!" loudly.

Baird looked at the officer in front of him, well aware that the show had been to attract his attention and wondering about the reason. "Lieutenant Sharpe, isn't it?"he asked at last.

"Yes, sir."

Baird looked more closely at his uniform. "A full lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir. Since after Vimeiro, sir." Sharpe was beginning to feel foolish. But if there was one general in the army that Sharpe could ask a favour from, it was Baird. He had saved the general's life at Seringapatam and later done work for him at Copenhagen.

Baird seemed to make the connection as well, since his next question was "Well, Sharpe, what can I do for you?"

At that, Sharpe hesitated. But it was the opening he'd been waiting for. "I'd been wondering about the army's plans, sir." Before Baird could continue, he added pointedly, "The whole army."

Baird looked at him. "Sir John has decided to send out cavalry in advance, to scout out in Soult's direction. The 10th and 15th Hussars."

Sharpe smiled. The news could not have been better. "Thank you, sir."

Sharpe had rapidly retrieved the horse he had taken from the French chasseurs and then headed out in search of the hussars assembling at the edge of the British camp. He searched for Lockhart, for Miller, for Spence…anyone who might give him a sympathetic reception. In the end, he found them in a corner of the group. He parked his horse in front of Spence and saluted. "Lieutenant Sharpe, requesting permission to accompany you."

A horseman in the uniform of a major-general came riding over. "Captain, what is this?"

Spence saluted the senior officer. "My lord, may I present Lieutenant Richard Sharpe of the 95th? He accompanied us on our earlier expedition near Salamanca. He found and brought back the smaller group of missing Spanish civilians. Lieutenant Sharpe, this is the cavalry commander, Lord Henry Paget."

Sharpe suddenly felt very uncomfortable in the presence of a general and not even one he knew. "Your servant, sir,"he mumbled awkwardly.

Paget accepted the compliment but looked no less puzzled. "What can we do for you, Lieutenant?"

Spence saved Sharpe the embarassment of answering. "The lieutenant wished to accompany us, sir."

"Scouting for my own regiment, sir,"Sharpe managed to add. "The supply situation."

Paget looked back at Spence. "Well, if you're happy to have him travel with you, I have no objections. You might want some warm clothes though, Lieutenant! Going to be chilly out in open country, what?" Laughing at his own joke and with Sharpe already dismissed from his mind, Paget rode over to join the other senior officers.

Lockhart produced a cloak and a fur-lined pelisse. "Here, sir."

Sharpe nodded his thanks. He was grateful for Paget too. The general may not have respected him but he had accepted him. Somewhere out in those icy plains was the French cavalry. And Sharpe very much wanted to meet them.