Sharpe's Skirmish Read Free Page A

awkwardly at the table which was far too small for six people.
    Ensign Hickey could not take his eyes from Teresa. He did try once or twice, and even ventured a conversation with MacKeon, but MacKeon just scowled at him and Hickey's watery eyes inevitably strayed back to Teresa who was illuminated by the large candles that the village priest had carried up from the church. The flamelight cast intriguing shadows on Teresa's face and Hickey stared at her mournfully.
    "You've never seen a woman before, Mister Hickey?" Sharpe asked.
    "Yes, sir. Yes, I have. Yes." Hickey nodded vigorously. He was sixteen, new to the battalion and in awe of Captain Sharpe. "Sorry, sir," he mumbled, reddening.
    "Stare away, Hickey," Harry Price said, "I do! Damned watchable is Mrs Sharpe, if you'll forgive me saying so, Ma'am."
    "I forgive you, Harry." Teresa said.
    "The first woman who ever has," Sharpe said.
    "Not fair, Richard," Price said, "I'm forever being forgiven by women."
    Hickey was again gazing at Teresa and, realising that Sharpe was looking at him, he tried to make conversation. "You really do fight, Ma'am?"
    "When I have to," Teresa said.
    "Against the French, Ma'am?" Hickey suggested.
    "Who the hell else?" Sharpe growled.
    "Against all men who are rude," Teresa said, dazzling Hickey with a smile.
    "But I have fought the French, Mister Hickey, since the day they killed my family."
    "Oh, my Lord," Hickey said. Such things did not happen in Danbury, Essex, where his family farmed three hundred placid acres.
    "And I am at San Miguel to fight them again," Teresa said.
    "No French here, Ma'am," Major Tubbs said happily. "Not a frog within hopping distance."
    "And if one does come within hopping distance," Teresa said, "then my men will see them coming. We are your cavalry scouts."
    "And glad we are to have you, Ma'am," Tubbs said gallantly.
    John MacKeon, who until now had stayed silent, suddenly looked at Sharpe, and the fierceness of the Scotsman's gaze was so intense that it brought an awkward silence to the cramped table. "You no remember me?" He said to Sharpe.
    Sharpe looked at the craggy face with its thick eyebrows and deep-set eyes. "Should I, Mister MacKeon?"
    "I was with you, Sharpe, when you crossed the wall at Gawilghur."
    "Then I should remember you," Sharpe said.
    "Ah, no," MacKeon said dismissively. "I was just another soldier. One of Campbell's men in the 96th, ye remember them?"
    Shape nodded. "I remember them. I remember Captain Campbell too."
    "There's a laddie who's done well for himself," MacKeon said, "and no more than he's deserved, I dare say. It was a great day's work ye both did."
    "We all did it," Sharpe said.
    "But you were first across the wall, man. I remember seeing you climb and I thought to myself, there's a dead man if ever I did see one!"
    "What happened?" Teresa asked.
    Sharpe shrugged. "It was in India. A battle. We won."
    Teresa raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. "What a wonderful story teller you are, Richard. A battle. In India. We won."
    "Aye," MacKeon said, shaking his head. "Gawilghur! A rare fight, that one.
    A rare fight. A horde of heathen, there were, a horde! And this wee laddie," he gestured at Sharpe, "scrambled up a cliff like a monkey. A dead man if ever I did see one. Aye," he nodded at Sharpe, "I thought it was you."
    "So what did happen?" Tubbs demanded, echoing Teresa's earlier plea.
    "It was a battle," Sharpe said, getting to his feet. "In India."
    "And you won?" Teresa asked earnestly.
    "We did," Sharpe said, "we did." He paused, thinking, and it almost seemed he was going to tell the story, but instead he touched a finger to the long scar that ran up one cheek and which gave him such a grim appearance.
    "I fetched this scar in that fight," he said, then shook his head, "but if you'll forgive me, it's time to check the sentries." He picked up his shako, rifle and sword belt and ducked out the door.
    "It was a battle," Teresa said, imitating Sharpe, "in India. We won. So what