Sharpe's Tiger by Bernard Cornwell

sir!”then grinned at Hakeswill. “The boy was faster than you thought, Sergeant.”
    â€œHe’s a devil, that one, sir, a devil. Broke my nose, he did.” Hakeswill gingerly tried to straighten the cartilage and the bleeding nose made a horrible crunching noise. “But his woman’s ours.”
    â€œTonight?” Morris could not keep the eagerness from his voice.
    â€œNot tonight, sir,” Hakeswill said in a tone that suggested the Captain had made a foolish suggestion. “There’ll be enough trouble in the company with Sharpe arrested, sir, and if we go after his
bibbi
tonight there’ll be a rare brawl. Half the bastards are full of arrack. No, sir. Wait till the bastard’s flogged to death. Wait for that, sir, and then they’ll all be meek as lambs. Meek as lambs. Flogging does that to men. Quietens them down something proper, a good whipping does. All be done in a couple of days, sir.”
    Morris flinched as Hakeswill tried to straighten his nose again. “You’d better see Mister Micklewhite, Hakeswill.”
    â€œNo, sir. Don’t believe in doctors, sir, except for the pox. I’ll strap it up, sir, and soon be right as rain. Besides, watching Sharpie flogged will be treatment enough. I reckon we done him, sir. You won’t have long to wait, sir, not long at all.”
    Morris found Hakeswill’s intimate tone unseemly, and stepped stiffly back. “Then I’ll wish you a good night, Sergeant.”
    â€œThank you kindly, sir, and the same to you, sir. And sweet dreams too, sir.” Hakeswill laughed. “Just as sweet as sweet can ever be, sir.”
    For Sharpie was done.
    â€œDon’t worry, Sergeant, Hicks and I both saw it,” Morris said. “Came to check on the horses, ain’t that right, Hicks?”
    â€œYes, sir,” Hicks said. He was a small young man, very officious, who would never contradict a superior. If Morris claimed the clouds were made of cheese Hicks would just stand to attention, twitch his nose, and swear blind he could smell Cheddar. “Plain case of assault, sir,” the Ensign said. “Unprovoked assault.”
    â€œGuard!” Morris shouted. “Here! Now!”
    Blood was pouring down Hakeswill’s face, but the Sergeant managed a grin. “Got you, Sharpie,” he said softly, “got you. Flogging offence, that.”
    You bastard,” Sharpe said softly, and wondered if he should run. He wondered if he would stand any chance of making it safely away if he just sprinted into the dark, but Ensign Hicks had drawn his pistol and the sound of the hammer being cocked stilled Sharpe’s tiny impulse to flee.
    A panting Sergeant Green arrived with four men of the guard and Morris pushed the horses aside to let them through. “Arrest Private Sharpe, Sergeant,” he told Green. “Close arrest. He struck Sergeant Hakeswill, and Hicks and I witnessed the assault. Ensign Hicks will do the paperwork.”
    â€œGladly, sir,” Hicks agreed. The Ensign was slurring his words, betraying that he had been drinking.
    Morris looked at Sharpe. “It’s a court martial offence, Sharpe,” the Captain said, then he turned back to Green who had not moved to obey his orders. “Do it!”
    â€œSir!” Green said, stepping forward. “Come on, Sharpie.”
    â€œI didn’t do nothing, Sergeant,” Sharpe protested.
    â€œCome on, lad. It’ll sort itself out,” Green said quietly, then he took Sharpe’s elbow and led him away. Hicks went with them, happy to please Morris by writing up the charge.
    Morris waited until the prisoner and his escort had gone.

CHAPTER 3
    C olonel McCandless woke as the dawn touched the world’s rim with a streak of fire. The crimson light glowed bright on the lower edge of a long cloud that lay on the eastern horizon like the smoke rill left by a musket volley. It was the only cloud in the sky.