Read Sharpe 3-Book Collection 7: Sharpe's Revenge, Sharpe's Waterloo, Sharpe's Devil Online
Authors: Bernard Cornwell
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Sharpe 3-Book Collection 7: Sharpe's Revenge, Sharpe's Waterloo, Sharpe's Devil (105 page)
BOOK: Sharpe 3-Book Collection 7: Sharpe's Revenge, Sharpe's Waterloo, Sharpe's Devil
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PART III
VIVAR
VIVAR
CHAPTER 9
The embers were gathering.
Reinforcements arrived from the northern provinces. They were not many, and none was officially despatched by the republic’s government in Santiago, yet still they came. A few owed Lord Cochrane for past favors, but most were adventurers who smelled plunder in Chile. They arrived at Puerto Crucero in small groups; the largest were brought back on Cochrane’s pinnace, but others came by land, all daring the forests and the savages as they skirted the Spanish-held territory to gather at Puerto Crucero. After two weeks the newcomers had added just over two hundred volunteers to Cochrane’s meager forces, but Cochrane was convinced that his war would be won by just such small increments. At least half of the newcomers had fought in the European wars, and more than a few recognized Sharpe and hoped he would remember them. “I was in the breach at Badajoz with you,” a Welshman told Sharpe. “Bloody terrible, that was. But I’m glad you’re here, sir, it means we’re going to win again, does it not?”
Sharpe did not have the heart to tell the Welshman that he believed the attack on Valdivia to be suicidal. Instead he asked what had brought the man to this backside of the world. “Money, sir, money! What else?” The Welshman was confident that the royalists, having been defeated in Peru, Chile, and in the wide grasslands beyond the Andes, must
have carried the spoils of all that empire back to Valdivia. “It’s their last great stronghold in South America!” the Welshman said, “so if we capture it, sir, we’ll all be rich. I shall buy a house and a farm in the border country, and I’ll find a fat wife, and I shall never want for a thing again. All it takes is money, sir, and all we need for money is this battle. Life is not for the weak or timid, sir, but for the brave!”
have carried the spoils of all that empire back to Valdivia. “It’s their last great stronghold in South America!” the Welshman said, “so if we capture it, sir, we’ll all be rich. I shall buy a house and a farm in the border country, and I’ll find a fat wife, and I shall never want for a thing again. All it takes is money, sir, and all we need for money is this battle. Life is not for the weak or timid, sir, but for the brave!”
The Spaniards were making no effort to recapture Puerto Crucero. Instead they had pulled all their forces back into the Valdivia region, abandoning a score of towns and outlying forts. Cochrane’s volunteers arrived at Puerto Crucero with tales of burning stockades, deserted customs posts and empty guardhouses. “Maybe,” Sharpe suggested, “they’re planning a complete withdrawal?”
“Back to Spain, you mean?” Cochrane scorned the suggestion. “They’re waiting for reinforcements. Madrid won’t abandon Chile. They believe God gave them this empire as a reward for slaughtering all those Muslims in the fifteenth century, and what God gives, kings keep. No, they’re not withdrawing, Sharpe, they’re just planning more wickedness. They know we’re going to attack them, so they’re drawing in their horns and getting their guns ready.” He rubbed his hands with glee. “All those guns and men in one place, just waiting to be captured!”
“That’s just what Bautista wants,” Sharpe warned Cochrane. “He believes his guns will pound you into mincemeat.”
Cochrane spat. “The man’s useless. His guns couldn’t kill a spavined chicken. Besides, we’ll be taking him by surprise.”
The surprise depended entirely on the Spaniards being deceived by the two disguised warships. The
O’Higgins
, brought into the inner harbor, was being disguised with tar so that her gunports were indistinguishable from any distance. She looked, by the time Cochrane’s men had done with her, as drab and ugly a ship as had ever sailed the ocean.
The fine giltwork at her bow and stern had been ruthlessly stripped away so that she resembled some unloved transport ship. The
Kitty
, the erstwhile
Espiritu Santo
, was being similarly disfigured. She was also being made seaworthy, and Cochrane chivied his carpenters unmercifully, because every day that the
Kitty
spent careened on the sand shoal was a day lost, a day in which Lord Cochrane worried that the two real Spanish transport ships might reach Valdivia, or that some Spanish spy might report back to Valdivia just what preparations the rebels were making.
O’Higgins
, brought into the inner harbor, was being disguised with tar so that her gunports were indistinguishable from any distance. She looked, by the time Cochrane’s men had done with her, as drab and ugly a ship as had ever sailed the ocean.
The fine giltwork at her bow and stern had been ruthlessly stripped away so that she resembled some unloved transport ship. The
Kitty
, the erstwhile
Espiritu Santo
, was being similarly disfigured. She was also being made seaworthy, and Cochrane chivied his carpenters unmercifully, because every day that the
Kitty
spent careened on the sand shoal was a day lost, a day in which Lord Cochrane worried that the two real Spanish transport ships might reach Valdivia, or that some Spanish spy might report back to Valdivia just what preparations the rebels were making.
Even a half-witted spy, Cochrane grumbled, could have guessed his plans by just looking at the work being done on the two warships. In essence Cochrane was repeating the trick that had won him Puerto Crucero. That trick had enabled the Scotsman to take his men to the very edge of the defenses before their presence was detected, yet if the Spaniards had been alerted to the trick and had opened fire on the
Espiritu Santo
as soon as she had shown at the harbor mouth, blood would have poured thick from the frigate’s scuppers and Cochrane would have earned his first defeat.
Espiritu Santo
as soon as she had shown at the harbor mouth, blood would have poured thick from the frigate’s scuppers and Cochrane would have earned his first defeat.
The Spaniards could easily inflict that first defeat in the massive harbor at Valdivia. Valdivia’s six forts contained far more guns than Puerto Crucero’s one fortress, and Valdivia’s guns were spread out so that a surprise assault on one bastion could only serve to alert the others. It was that dispersion of enemy guns that worried Sharpe. Five of Valdivia’s forts were on the harbor’s western shore, while the sixth, Fort Niebla, was on the eastern bank and guarded the entrance to the River Valdivia. Cochrane, if he was to capture the town with its citadel and reputed treasure, had to capture Fort Niebla, for with the river mouth in his hands he could prevent the garrisons of the remaining fortresses from reinforcing the town’s defenders.
Cochrane’s plan to capture Fort Niebla was unveiled at a
council of war that he held in the high arched room of Puerto Crucero’s citadel. He spread a map on a table and weighted its corners with bottles of Chilean brandy, then, in a calm voice, spoke of sailing the disguised ships past the silent guns of the Spanish forts. Sharpe, like the other dozen officers in the room, listened to Cochrane’s confident voice, but saw on the map the terrible dangers that the Scotsman so blithely discounted. Most of the forts had been built high on the hills that surrounded the harbor—so high that, while they could plunge a lethal fire down into Cochrane’s ships, his own cannon could never elevate enough to return the fire. “But no one will open fire if they believe us to be the long-awaited transports with Colonel Ruiz’s guns and men!” Cochrane said confidently. He would keep his false ensigns flying until his two ships actually reached the quays in the river’s mouth. There, sheltered from all the western fortresses, as well as from the guns on Manzanera Island, he would launch a sudden landward assault against Fort Niebla. “And when Niebla falls, the whole thing collapses!” Cochrane said again. “Niebla controls the river! The river controls the town! The town controls what’s left of Spanish Chile!”
council of war that he held in the high arched room of Puerto Crucero’s citadel. He spread a map on a table and weighted its corners with bottles of Chilean brandy, then, in a calm voice, spoke of sailing the disguised ships past the silent guns of the Spanish forts. Sharpe, like the other dozen officers in the room, listened to Cochrane’s confident voice, but saw on the map the terrible dangers that the Scotsman so blithely discounted. Most of the forts had been built high on the hills that surrounded the harbor—so high that, while they could plunge a lethal fire down into Cochrane’s ships, his own cannon could never elevate enough to return the fire. “But no one will open fire if they believe us to be the long-awaited transports with Colonel Ruiz’s guns and men!” Cochrane said confidently. He would keep his false ensigns flying until his two ships actually reached the quays in the river’s mouth. There, sheltered from all the western fortresses, as well as from the guns on Manzanera Island, he would launch a sudden landward assault against Fort Niebla. “And when Niebla falls, the whole thing collapses!” Cochrane said again. “Niebla controls the river! The river controls the town! The town controls what’s left of Spanish Chile!”
“Brilliant! Genius! Superb!” exclaimed Major Miller, his eyes glowing with admiration for his hero’s cleverness. “Superb, my Lord! Quite magnificent! Worthy of Wellington! I applaud you, ’pon my soul, I do!”
“I believe Major Miller trusts our plan!” Cochrane said happily.
“I don’t,” Sharpe said.
“You don’t believe it will work?” Cochrane asked sarcastically.
“I believe it will work, my Lord, just so long as not one Spanish soldier can tell the difference between a transport ship and a warship. It will work so long as the real transport ships haven’t arrived yet. It will work so long as those real
transport ships weren’t supplied with a password we don’t know. It will work so long as not one single officer of Colonel Ruiz’s regiment isn’t carried out to the arriving ships to check their cargoes. Good Lord! You think the Spaniards won’t be suspicious of every ship that comes into sight? They know how you captured this fortress, my Lord, so they’ll surely suspect that you’ll try the same trick again! How do we know that the Spanish aren’t inspecting every ship before it’s allowed to enter the harbor?” Sharpe spoke in English so that his pessimism would not be obvious to every man in the room, but his tone was more than enough to give it away. Even those who did not understand his words could look at the map and imagine the hell of being caught in the harbor, at the center of a ring of heavy guns that would be splintering the ships into floating charnel houses.
transport ships weren’t supplied with a password we don’t know. It will work so long as not one single officer of Colonel Ruiz’s regiment isn’t carried out to the arriving ships to check their cargoes. Good Lord! You think the Spaniards won’t be suspicious of every ship that comes into sight? They know how you captured this fortress, my Lord, so they’ll surely suspect that you’ll try the same trick again! How do we know that the Spanish aren’t inspecting every ship before it’s allowed to enter the harbor?” Sharpe spoke in English so that his pessimism would not be obvious to every man in the room, but his tone was more than enough to give it away. Even those who did not understand his words could look at the map and imagine the hell of being caught in the harbor, at the center of a ring of heavy guns that would be splintering the ships into floating charnel houses.
“If we attack at night,” said Miller while surreptitiously trying to coax his precious watch into life, “the Spaniards will be asleep!”
No one responded. Miller tapped the watch on the table and was rewarded with a ticking sound.
“How many defenders will there be?” The question was put by Captain Simms, who had skippered the
O’Higgins
during Cochrane’s absence.
O’Higgins
during Cochrane’s absence.
“Two thousand?” Cochrane suggested airily.
Someone at the table took a deep loud breath. “We have three hundred men?” the man asked.
“Close to,” Cochrane smiled, then, in Spanish, he challenged anyone to suggest a better scheme for capturing the harbor. “You, Sharpe? Can you think of a way? My God, man, I’m not rigid! I’ll listen to anyone’s ideas!”
Sharpe, given a choice, would not have attacked at all. Three hundred men against two thousand were not good odds, and the odds worsened appreciably when the two thousand defenders were safely ensconced behind ditches, pali
sades, walls, embrasures and the wickedest array of cannonfire assembled in all South America. But it was no use expressing such defeatism to Lord Cochrane, and so Sharpe tried to find some other weakness in the Spanish defenses. “I seem to remember there was a beach here when I sailed into Valdivia.” He leaned over the map and pointed to the very tip of the headland around which the attackers would have to sail.
sades, walls, embrasures and the wickedest array of cannonfire assembled in all South America. But it was no use expressing such defeatism to Lord Cochrane, and so Sharpe tried to find some other weakness in the Spanish defenses. “I seem to remember there was a beach here when I sailed into Valdivia.” He leaned over the map and pointed to the very tip of the headland around which the attackers would have to sail.
“The
Aguada del Ingles
,” offered Fraser, Cochrane’s elderly sailing master. “
Aguada
means a watering place,” and the old Scotsman explained that Bartholomew Sharp, a seventeenth-century English pirate, had landed on that same beach, right under the Spanish defenses, to fill his barrels from a freshwater spring.
Aguada del Ingles
,” offered Fraser, Cochrane’s elderly sailing master. “
Aguada
means a watering place,” and the old Scotsman explained that Bartholomew Sharp, a seventeenth-century English pirate, had landed on that same beach, right under the Spanish defenses, to fill his barrels from a freshwater spring.
“There’s an omen, eh, Sharpe?” Miller said happily. “Your namesake, eh?”
“It rather depends on whether he got away with it,” Sharpe said.
“Aye, he did,” Fraser said. “They called him a devil in his time, too.”
“Why don’t we land there ourselves,” Sharpe suggested, “and attack the forts one by one? These forts aren’t designed to defend themselves against a landward attack, and if we take Fort Ingles, then the very sight of the defeat may demoralize the other garrisons.”
There was a few seconds’ silence as the men about the table stared at the map. Part of Sharpe’s solution made sense. Most of the westernmost forts had not been built to defend against a landward attack, but merely to threaten any ship foolish enough to sail unwanted into Valdivia’s harbor, but Corral Castle and Fort Niebla were both proper fortresses, built to resist ships, artillery and infantry, and even if Cochrane’s men could tumble the defenders out of Fort Ingles, Fort San Carlos and Fort Amargos, they would still need to
capture the far more formidable Corral Castle before they marched around the southern side of the harbor to lay siege to Fort Niebla.
capture the far more formidable Corral Castle before they marched around the southern side of the harbor to lay siege to Fort Niebla.
Cochrane rejected Sharpe’s halfhearted ideas. “Good God, man, but think of the time you’re taking! An hour to land our men, that’s if we can land them at all, which we can’t if the surf’s high, then another half hour to form up, and what are the Spaniards going to be doing? You think they’ll sit waiting for us? Christ, no! They’ll meet us on the beach with a Hail Mary of musket balls. We’ll be lucky if ten men survive! No. We’ll risk the gunfire, hoist the ensigns, and run straight for the defense’s heart!”
“If we make a land attack at night,” Sharpe persisted in his less risky plan, “then the Spanish will be confused.”
“Have you ever tried landing men on an exposed beach at night?” Cochrane demanded. “We’ll all be drowned! No, Sharpe! To the devil with caution. We’ll go for their heart!” He spoke enthusiastically but detected that others besides Sharpe doubted that the thing could be done. “Don’t you understand,” Cochrane cried passionately, “that the only reason we’ll succeed is because the Spanish know this can’t be done? They know Valdivia is impregnable, so they don’t expect anyone to be mad enough to attack. Our very chance of victory comes from their strength, because their strength is so great that they believe themselves to be unbeatable! And that belief is lulling them to sleep. Gentlemen! We shall lance their pride and bring their great forts down to dust!” He picked up one of the bottles of brandy and eased out its cork. “I give you Valdivia, gentlemen, and victory!”
Men raised the bottles and drank to the toast, but Sharpe, alone in the room, could not bring himself to respond to Cochrane’s toast. He was thinking of three hundred men ranged against the greatest fortress complex on the Pacific coast. The result would be slaughter.
“There was a time” —Harper had seen Sharpe’s reluctance and now spoke very softly— “when you would have done the impossible, because nothing else would have worked.”
Sharpe heard the reproof, accepted it, and reached for a bottle. He pulled the cork and, like Harper, drank to the impossible victory. “Valdivia,” he said, “and triumph.”
F
raser, Cochrane’s sailing master, opined that the repaired
Kitty
might stay afloat long enough to reach Valdivia, but he did not sound optimistic. “Not that it matters,” the old Scotsman told Cochrane, “for you’ll all be dead bones once the dagoes start their guns on you.”
The two ships, both clumsily disguised as unloved transport hulks, had sailed four days after Cochrane’s council of war. Cochrane had left just thirty men in Puerto Crucero, most of them walking wounded and barely sufficient to guard the prisoners and hold the fort against a possible Spanish patrol. Every other man sailed on board the
Kitty
and the
O’Higgins
. The two warships stood well out to sea, traveling far from land so that no stray Spanish vessel might spot them.
Kitty
and the
O’Higgins
. The two warships stood well out to sea, traveling far from land so that no stray Spanish vessel might spot them.
The
Kitty
’s pumps clattered ceaselessly. She was repaired, but the new wood in her hull had yet to swell and close her seams, and so, from the moment the frigate was refloated, the pumps had been manned. Despite her repairs she was proving a desperately slow ship. Some of the men in Cochrane’s expedition had declared her an unlucky ship and had been reluctant to sail in her, a superstition that Cochrane had lanced by choosing to sail in the fragile
Kitty
himself. Sharpe and Harper also sailed on the erstwhile
Espiritu Santo
, while Miller and his marines were on the
O’Higgins
. “I’ll salute as you sink,” had been Miller’s cheerful farewell to Sharpe.
Kitty
’s pumps clattered ceaselessly. She was repaired, but the new wood in her hull had yet to swell and close her seams, and so, from the moment the frigate was refloated, the pumps had been manned. Despite her repairs she was proving a desperately slow ship. Some of the men in Cochrane’s expedition had declared her an unlucky ship and had been reluctant to sail in her, a superstition that Cochrane had lanced by choosing to sail in the fragile
Kitty
himself. Sharpe and Harper also sailed on the erstwhile
Espiritu Santo
, while Miller and his marines were on the
O’Higgins
. “I’ll salute as you sink,” had been Miller’s cheerful farewell to Sharpe.
“If we don’t sink, we’ll die under the guns,” Fraser opined, and the nearer the two ships came to Valdivia, the gloomier
the old man became, though his gloom was always shot through with an affectionate admiration for Cochrane. “If any man can do the impossible, it’s Cochrane,” Fraser told Sharpe and Harper. They were five nights out of Puerto Crucero, on the last night before they reached Valdivia, and the ships were sailing without lights, except for one shielded lantern that burned on the faster
O’Higgins
’s stern. If the
O’Higgins
looked like it was going too far ahead in the darkness, a signal gun would be fired from one of the
Kitty
’s two stern guns which were still the only heavy armament that the frigate possessed. “I was with Cochrane when he took the
Gamo
,” Fraser, who was steering the
Kitty
, said proudly. “Did you ever hear how he did that?”
the old man became, though his gloom was always shot through with an affectionate admiration for Cochrane. “If any man can do the impossible, it’s Cochrane,” Fraser told Sharpe and Harper. They were five nights out of Puerto Crucero, on the last night before they reached Valdivia, and the ships were sailing without lights, except for one shielded lantern that burned on the faster
O’Higgins
’s stern. If the
O’Higgins
looked like it was going too far ahead in the darkness, a signal gun would be fired from one of the
Kitty
’s two stern guns which were still the only heavy armament that the frigate possessed. “I was with Cochrane when he took the
Gamo
,” Fraser, who was steering the
Kitty
, said proudly. “Did you ever hear how he did that?”
“No.”
“It was in ’01, off Barcelona. His Lordship had a brig, called the
Speedy
. The smallest seagoing thing in the Royal Navy, she was, with just fifty-two men aboard and fourteen guns—seven guns a side and none of them more than four-pounders—and the mad devil used her to capture the
Gamo
. She was a Spanish frigate of thirty-two guns and three hundred men. You’d have said it couldn’t be done, but he did it. He disguised us with an American flag, ran in close under her side, then held her up against the frigate as he blasted his seven popguns up through her decks. He held her there for an hour and a half, then boarded her. She surrendered.” Fraser shrugged. “The trouble with Cochrane is that every time he does something insane, he gets away with it. One day he’ll lose, and that’ll be the end of him. Mind you, whenever he tangles with the lawyers, he loses. His enemies accused him of defrauding the stock exchange, which he didn’t do, but they hired the best lawyers in London and His Lordship was so sure of his own innocence that he didn’t even bother to turn up in court, which made it much easier for the bastards to find him guilty and put him in prison.”
Speedy
. The smallest seagoing thing in the Royal Navy, she was, with just fifty-two men aboard and fourteen guns—seven guns a side and none of them more than four-pounders—and the mad devil used her to capture the
Gamo
. She was a Spanish frigate of thirty-two guns and three hundred men. You’d have said it couldn’t be done, but he did it. He disguised us with an American flag, ran in close under her side, then held her up against the frigate as he blasted his seven popguns up through her decks. He held her there for an hour and a half, then boarded her. She surrendered.” Fraser shrugged. “The trouble with Cochrane is that every time he does something insane, he gets away with it. One day he’ll lose, and that’ll be the end of him. Mind you, whenever he tangles with the lawyers, he loses. His enemies accused him of defrauding the stock exchange, which he didn’t do, but they hired the best lawyers in London and His Lordship was so sure of his own innocence that he didn’t even bother to turn up in court, which made it much easier for the bastards to find him guilty and put him in prison.”
“And they hurled me out of the most noble Order of the Bath.” Cochrane himself, who had crept up behind them, intervened. “Do you know what they do when they expel a man from the Order of the Bath, Sharpe?”
“No, my Lord.”
Cochrane, who clearly relished the story, chuckled. “The ceremony happens at dead of night in Westminster Abbey. In the chapel of Henry VII. It’s dark. At first you hear nothing but the rustle of robes and the scratching of shoes. It sounds like a convocation of rats, but it’s merely the lawyers and lords and pimps and bum-suckers gathering together. Then, on the stroke of midnight, they tear the disgraced man’s banner from above the choir stalls, and afterward they take a nameless man, who stands in for the villain, and they strap a pair of spurs on his heels and then, with an axe, they chop the spurs off! At night! In the Abbey! And all the rats and pimps applaud as they kick the man and the spurs and the banner down the steps, and down the choir, and down the nave, and out into the darkness of Westminster.” Cochrane laughed. “They did that to me! Can you believe it? We’re in the nineteenth century, yet still the bastards are playing children’s games at midnight. But one day, by Christ, I’ll go back to England and I’ll sail up the Thames and I’ll make those bastards wish their mothers had never given birth. I’ll hang those dry bastards from the roofbeams of the Abbey, then play pell-mell with their balls in the nave.”
“They’re lawyers, Cochrane,” Fraser said sourly, “they don’t have balls.”
Cochrane chuckled, then cocked his face to the night. “The wind’s piping up, Fraser. We’ll have a blow before tomorrow night.”
“Aye, we will.”
“So do you still think we’re doomed, Sharpe?” Cochrane demanded fiercely.
“I think, my Lord, that tomorrow we shall need a miracle.”
“It’ll be easy,” Cochrane said dismissively. “We’ll arrive an hour before nightfall, at the very moment when the garrisons will be wanting to go off duty and put their feet up. They’ll think we’re transports, they’ll ignore us, and as soon as it’s dark we’ll be swarming up the ramparts of Fort Niebla. By this time tomorrow night, Sharpe, you and I will have our feet under the commandant’s table, drinking his wine, eating his supper, and choosing between his whores. And the day after that we’ll go downriver and take Valdivia. Two days, Sharpe, just two days, and all Chile is ours. We will have won.”
It all sounded so easy. Two days, six forts, two hundred guns, two thousand men, and all Chile as the prize.
In the darkness a glimmer of light showed from the stern lantern of the
O’Higgins
. The sea hissed and roared, lifting the sluggish hull of the
Kitty
, then dropping her down into the cold heart of the wave troughs. Beyond the one small glimmer of light there was no other sign of life in all the universe, neither a star nor moon nor landward light. The ships were in an immensity of darkness, commanded by a devil, sailing under a night sky of thick cloud, and traveling toward death.
O’Higgins
. The sea hissed and roared, lifting the sluggish hull of the
Kitty
, then dropping her down into the cold heart of the wave troughs. Beyond the one small glimmer of light there was no other sign of life in all the universe, neither a star nor moon nor landward light. The ships were in an immensity of darkness, commanded by a devil, sailing under a night sky of thick cloud, and traveling toward death.
T
hey sighted land an hour after dawn. By midday they could see the signal tower that stood atop Fort Chorocomayo, the highest stronghold in Valdivia’s defenses. The signal tower held a vast semaphore mast that reported the presence of the two strange ships, then fell into stillness.
Three hours before sunset Sharpe could see the Spanish flag atop Fort Ingles and he could hear the surf crashing on the rocks beside the
Aguada del Ingles
. No ships had come from the harbor to enquire about their business. “You see,” Cochrane crowed, “they’re fools!”
Aguada del Ingles
. No ships had come from the harbor to enquire about their business. “You see,” Cochrane crowed, “they’re fools!”
Two hours later, in the light of the dying sun, the
O’Higgins
and the
Kitty
trimmed their sails as they turned east about the rocky peninsula that protected Valdivia’s harbor. They had arrived at the killing place.
O’Higgins
and the
Kitty
trimmed their sails as they turned east about the rocky peninsula that protected Valdivia’s harbor. They had arrived at the killing place.
The great clouds had gone, torn ragged by a morning gale that had gentled throughout the day until, in this evening of battle, the wind blew steady and firm, but without malice. Yet the sea was still ferocious. The huge Pacific rollers, completing their great journey across an ocean, heaved the
Kitty
up and down in a giant swooping motion, while to Sharpe’s right the great waves shattered in shredding explosions of foam off the black rocks. “You would not, I think, want to make a landing on the
Aguada del Ingles
in these conditions,” Cochrane said as he searched the shore with his telescope. Suddenly he stiffened. “There!”
Kitty
up and down in a giant swooping motion, while to Sharpe’s right the great waves shattered in shredding explosions of foam off the black rocks. “You would not, I think, want to make a landing on the
Aguada del Ingles
in these conditions,” Cochrane said as he searched the shore with his telescope. Suddenly he stiffened. “There!”
“My Lord?” Sharpe asked.
“See for yourself, Sharpe!”
Sharpe took the glass. Dim in the gauzy light and through the shredding plumes of foam that obscured the sea’s edge like a fog he could just see the first of the harbor’s forts. “That’s Fort Ingles!” Cochrane said. “The beach is just below it.”
Sharpe moved the glass down to where the massive waves thundered up the
Aguada del Ingles
. He edged the glass back to the fortress which looked much as he remembered it from his earlier visit—a makeshift defense work with an earthen ditch and bank, wooden palisades, and embrasures for cannon. “They’re signaling us!” he said to Cochrane as a string of flags suddenly broke above the fort’s silhouette.
Aguada del Ingles
. He edged the glass back to the fortress which looked much as he remembered it from his earlier visit—a makeshift defense work with an earthen ditch and bank, wooden palisades, and embrasures for cannon. “They’re signaling us!” he said to Cochrane as a string of flags suddenly broke above the fort’s silhouette.
“Reply, Mister Almante!” Cochrane snapped, and a Chilean midshipman ran a string of flags up to the
Kitty
’s mizzen yard. The flags that Cochrane was showing formed no coherent message, but were instead a nonsense combination. “In the first place,” Cochrane explained, “the sun’s behind us, so
they can’t see the flags well, and even if they could see the flags they’d assume we’re using a new Spanish code which hasn’t reached them yet. It’ll make the buggers nervous, and that, after all, is a good way to begin a battle.” At the
Kitty
’s stern the Spanish ensign rippled in the wind, while below her decks the pumps sucked and spat, sucked and spat.
Kitty
’s mizzen yard. The flags that Cochrane was showing formed no coherent message, but were instead a nonsense combination. “In the first place,” Cochrane explained, “the sun’s behind us, so
they can’t see the flags well, and even if they could see the flags they’d assume we’re using a new Spanish code which hasn’t reached them yet. It’ll make the buggers nervous, and that, after all, is a good way to begin a battle.” At the
Kitty
’s stern the Spanish ensign rippled in the wind, while below her decks the pumps sucked and spat, sucked and spat.
The gaunt arms of the telegraph atop Fort Ingles began to rise and fall. “They’re telling the other forts where we are,” Cochrane said. He glanced down at the waist of the ship where a crowd of men lined the starboard gunwale. Cochrane had permitted such sight-seeing, reckoning that if the
Kitty
were indeed a Spanish transport ship, the men would be allowed on deck to catch this first glimpse of their new station. Also on deck were four nine-pounder field guns that had been manhandled on board from Puerto Crucero’s citadel. The guns were not there for their firepower, but rather to make it look as if the
Kitty
was indeed carrying artillery from Spain. Cochrane, unable to hide his excitement, beat a swift tattoo on the quarterdeck rail with his hands. “How long?” he snapped to Fraser.
Kitty
were indeed a Spanish transport ship, the men would be allowed on deck to catch this first glimpse of their new station. Also on deck were four nine-pounder field guns that had been manhandled on board from Puerto Crucero’s citadel. The guns were not there for their firepower, but rather to make it look as if the
Kitty
was indeed carrying artillery from Spain. Cochrane, unable to hide his excitement, beat a swift tattoo on the quarterdeck rail with his hands. “How long?” he snapped to Fraser.
“We’ll make the entrance in one more hour,” Fraser spoke from the helm. “And an hour after that we’ll have moonlight.”
“The tide?” Cochrane asked.
“We’re on the flood, my Lord, otherwise we’d never make her past the harbor entrance. Say two and a half hours?”
“Two and a half hours to what?” Sharpe asked.
“One hour to clear the point,” Cochrane explained, “and another hour to work our way south across the harbor, then half an hour to beat in against the river’s current. It’ll be dark when we reach Fort Niebla, so I’ll have to use a lantern to illuminate our ensign. A night attack, eh!” He rubbed his big hands in anticipation. “Ladders by moonlight! It sounds like an elopement!” Below the
Kitty
’s decks were a score of
newly made ladders which would be taken ashore and used to assault Niebla’s walls.
Kitty
’s decks were a score of
newly made ladders which would be taken ashore and used to assault Niebla’s walls.
“There’s a new signal, my Lord!” The midshipman called aloud in English, the language commonly used on the quarterdeck of Cochrane’s ship.
“In Spanish from now on, Mister Almante, in Spanish!” If the Spaniards did send a guard ship then Cochrane wanted no one using English by mistake. “Reply with a signal that urgently requests a whore for the Captain,” Cochrane gave the order in his execrable Spanish, “then draw attention to the signal with a gun.”
The grinning Midshipman Almante began plucking signal flags from the locker. The new message, gaudily spelled out in a string of fluttering flags, ran quickly to the
Kitty
’s mizzen yard and, just a second later, one of the stern guns crashed a blank charge to echo across the sea.
Kitty
’s mizzen yard and, just a second later, one of the stern guns crashed a blank charge to echo across the sea.
“We are spreading confusion!” Cochrane happily explained to Sharpe. “We’re pretending to be annoyed because they’re not responding to our signal!”
“Another shot, my Lord?” Midshipman Almante, who was not a day over thirteen, asked eagerly.
“We must not overegg the pudding, Mister Almante. Let the enemy worry for a few moments.”
The smoke from the stern gun drifted across the wildly heaving swell. The two ships were close to land now, close enough for great drifting mats of rust-brown weed to be thick in the water. Gulls screamed about the rigging. Two horsemen suddenly appeared on the headland’s skyline, evidently galloping to get a closer look at the two approaching boats.
“Nelson was always seasick until battle was imminent,” Cochrane said suddenly.
“You knew Nelson?” Sharpe asked.
“I met him several times. In the Mediterranean.” Cochrane paused to train his telescope on the two riders. “They’re
worried about us, but they can’t be seeing much. The sun’s almost dead behind us. A strange little man.”
worried about us, but they can’t be seeing much. The sun’s almost dead behind us. A strange little man.”
“Nelson?”
“‘Go for them,’ he told me, ‘just go for them! Damn the niceties, Cochrane, just go and fight!’ And he was right! It always works. Oh, damn.” The curse, spoken mildly, was provoked by the appearance of a small boat that was sailing out of the harbor and was clearly intending to intercept the
Kitty
and
O’Higgins
. Cochrane had half-expected such a guard boat, but plainly his disguise would have been easier to preserve if none had been despatched. “They are nervous, aren’t they,” he said to no one in particular, then walked to the quarterdeck’s rail and picked up a speaking trumpet. “No one is to speak in any language but Spanish. You will not shout a greeting to the guard boat. You may wave at them, but that is all!” He turned sharply. “Spanish naval dress, gentlemen!”
Kitty
and
O’Higgins
. Cochrane had half-expected such a guard boat, but plainly his disguise would have been easier to preserve if none had been despatched. “They are nervous, aren’t they,” he said to no one in particular, then walked to the quarterdeck’s rail and picked up a speaking trumpet. “No one is to speak in any language but Spanish. You will not shout a greeting to the guard boat. You may wave at them, but that is all!” He turned sharply. “Spanish naval dress, gentlemen!”
Blue coats, cocked hats and long swords were fetched up from Cochrane’s cabin and issued to every man on the quarterdeck. Harper, pleased to have a coat with epaulettes, strutted up and down. Fraser, dwarfed by his naval coat, scowled at the helm while Cochrane, his cocked hat looking oddly piratical, lit a cigar and pretended to feel no qualms about the imminent confrontation. The third Lieutenant, a man called Cabral who, though a fierce Chilean patriot, had been born in Spain, was deputed to be the
Kitty
’s spokesman. “Though remember, Lieutenant,” Cochrane admonished him, “we’re called the
Niño
, and the
O’Higgins
is now the
Cristoforo
.” Cochrane glowered at the approaching boat which, under a bellying red sail, contained a dozen uniformed men. “We’ll all be buggered,” he muttered to Sharpe in his first betrayal of nerves, “if those two transport ships arrived last week.”
Kitty
’s spokesman. “Though remember, Lieutenant,” Cochrane admonished him, “we’re called the
Niño
, and the
O’Higgins
is now the
Cristoforo
.” Cochrane glowered at the approaching boat which, under a bellying red sail, contained a dozen uniformed men. “We’ll all be buggered,” he muttered to Sharpe in his first betrayal of nerves, “if those two transport ships arrived last week.”
The guard boat hove to under the
Kitty
’s quarter, presum
ably because she was the ship showing the signal flags, and was therefore deemed to be the ship in command of the small convoy. A man with a speaking trumpet demanded to know the
Kitty
’s identity.
Kitty
’s quarter, presum
ably because she was the ship showing the signal flags, and was therefore deemed to be the ship in command of the small convoy. A man with a speaking trumpet demanded to know the
Kitty
’s identity.
“We’re the
Niño
and
Cristoforo
out of Cadiz!” Cabral called back. “We’re bringing Colonel Ruiz’s guns and men.”
Niño
and
Cristoforo
out of Cadiz!” Cabral called back. “We’re bringing Colonel Ruiz’s guns and men.”
“Where’s your escort?”
“What escort?” Cochrane asked under his breath, then, almost at once, he hissed an answer to Cabral. “Parted company off Cape Horn.”
“We lost them off Cape Horn!”
“What ship was escorting you?”
“Christ Almighty!” Cochrane blasphemed. “The
San Isidro
.” He plucked the name at random.
San Isidro
.” He plucked the name at random.
“The
San Isidro, señor
,” Cabral obediently parroted the answer.
San Isidro, señor
,” Cabral obediently parroted the answer.
“Did you meet the
Espiritu Santo?
” The guard boat asked.
Espiritu Santo?
” The guard boat asked.
“No!”
The interrogating officer, a black-bearded man in a naval Captain’s uniform, stared at the sullen faces that lined the
Niño
’s rails. The man was clearly unhappy, but also nervous. “I’m coming aboard!” he shouted.
Niño
’s rails. The man was clearly unhappy, but also nervous. “I’m coming aboard!” he shouted.
“We’ve got sickness!” Cabral, prepared for the demand, had his answer ready and, as if on cue, Midshipman Almante hoisted the yellow fever flag.
“Then you’re ordered to anchor off the harbor entrance!” the bearded man shouted up. “We’ll send doctors to you in the morning! You understand?”
“Tell them we don’t trust the holding here, we want to anchor inside the harbor!” Cochrane hissed.
Cabral repeated the demand, but the bearded man shook his head. “You’ve got your orders! The holding’s good enough for this wind. Anchor a half mile off the beach, use
two anchors on fifteen fathoms of chain apiece, and sleep well! We’ll have doctors on board at first light!” He signaled to his helmsman who bore away from the
Kitty
’s side and turned toward the harbor.
two anchors on fifteen fathoms of chain apiece, and sleep well! We’ll have doctors on board at first light!” He signaled to his helmsman who bore away from the
Kitty
’s side and turned toward the harbor.
“Goddamn it!” Cochrane said.
“Why don’t you just ignore the bugger?” Sharpe asked.
“Because if we try to run the entrance without permission they’ll open fire.”
“So we wait for dark?” Sharpe, who until now had been dead set against any such attack, was now the one trying to force Cochrane past the obstacle.
“There’ll be a gibbous moon,” Fraser said pessimistically, “and that will serve as well as broad sunlight to light their gunners’ aim.”
“Damn, damn, damn.” Cochrane, usually so voluble, was suddenly enervated. He stared at the retreating guard boat and seemed bereft of ideas. Fraser and the other officers waited for his orders, but Cochrane had none to give. Sharpe felt a sudden pang of sympathy for the tall Scotsman. All plans were nothing but predictions, and like all predictions they were likely to be transformed by their first collision with reality, but the art of war was to prepare for such collisions and have a second or a third or a fourth option ready. Cochrane suddenly had no such options on hand. He had pinned his hopes on the Spanish supinely accepting his ruse, then feebly collapsing before his attack. Was this how Napoleon had been on the day of Waterloo? Sharpe wondered. He watched Cochrane and saw a man in emptiness, a clever man drained of invention who seemed helpless to stop the tide of disaster flooding across him.
“We’ve two hours of fair water, my Lord.” Fraser, recognizing the moment of crisis, had adopted a respectful formality.
Cochrane did not respond. He was staring toward the har
bor entrance. Was he thinking of making a dash for it? But how could two slow ships dash? Their speed, even with the tide’s help, was scarcely above that of a man walking.
bor entrance. Was he thinking of making a dash for it? But how could two slow ships dash? Their speed, even with the tide’s help, was scarcely above that of a man walking.
“We’ll not get through, my Lord.” Fraser, reading His Lordship’s mind, growled the warning.
“No,” Cochrane said, but said nothing more.
Fraser shot a beseeching look at Sharpe. Sharpe, more than any other man in the expedition, had counseled against this attack, and now, Fraser’s look seemed to be saying, was the time for Sharpe to urge withdrawal. There was just one chance of avoiding disaster, and that was for the two ships to turn and slip away southward.
Sharpe said nothing.
Fraser, desperate to end the indecision, challenged Sharpe directly. “So what would you do, Sharpe?”
Cochrane frowned at Sharpe, but did not countermand Fraser’s invitation.
“Well?” Fraser insisted. The ship was still creeping toward the harbor mouth. In another half mile she would open the entrance and be under the guns of Fort San Carlos.
Cochrane was a devil, Sharpe thought, and suddenly he felt a smaller imp rise in himself. Goddamn it, but a man did not come this far just to be challenged by a toy boat and then turn back! “If we anchor off the beach,” Sharpe said, “they’ll think we’re obeying their orders. We wait till it’s dark, then we send a boat or two ashore. We can say we’re looking for fresh water if anyone questions us. Then we’ll attack the nearest fort. We may only capture a few kegs of powder, but at least we’ll have let the bastards know that we’re still dangerous.”
“Magnificent!” shouted Cochrane, released from his torpor. He slapped Sharpe’s back. “Goddamn it, man, but magnificent! I like it! Mister Almante! A signal to the
O’Higgins
, if you please, ordering them to ready anchors!” Cochrane
was suddenly seething with energy and enthusiasm. “But bugger snatching a few kegs of powder! Let’s go for the whole pot! We’ll capture the western forts, then use their guns to bombard Niebla while our ships work their way inside. That’ll be at dawn, Mister Fraser, so perhaps you will work out the time of the morning’s flood tide for me? I don’t know why I didn’t think to do it this way from the very start! Mister Cabral? Order a meal served below decks. Tell the men they’ve got two hours rest before we begin landing troops.”
O’Higgins
, if you please, ordering them to ready anchors!” Cochrane
was suddenly seething with energy and enthusiasm. “But bugger snatching a few kegs of powder! Let’s go for the whole pot! We’ll capture the western forts, then use their guns to bombard Niebla while our ships work their way inside. That’ll be at dawn, Mister Fraser, so perhaps you will work out the time of the morning’s flood tide for me? I don’t know why I didn’t think to do it this way from the very start! Mister Cabral? Order a meal served below decks. Tell the men they’ve got two hours rest before we begin landing troops.”
“Now you’ve done it,” Fraser grumbled to Sharpe.
“You spoke, Mister Fraser?” Cochrane demanded.
“Nothing, my Lord.”
“As soon as we’re at anchor,” Cochrane went on, “you’ll lower boats, but do it on the side facing away from the land! We don’t want the enemy to see we’re launching boats, do we?”
“A hole in each end, my Lord?” Fraser asked.
“Then suck the damned egg dry!” Cochrane, knowing he had given Fraser an unnecessary order, gave a brief guffaw of laughter.
Behind the
Kitty
the sky was a glorious blaze of gold touched scarlet, in which a few ragged clouds floated silver gray. The sea had turned molten, slashed with shivering bands of black. The great Spanish ensign, given an even richer color by the sun’s flaming gold, slapped and floated in the fitful wind.
Kitty
the sky was a glorious blaze of gold touched scarlet, in which a few ragged clouds floated silver gray. The sea had turned molten, slashed with shivering bands of black. The great Spanish ensign, given an even richer color by the sun’s flaming gold, slapped and floated in the fitful wind.
The two ships crept toward the shore. Sharpe could hear the breakers now and see where they foamed white as they hissed and roared toward the sand. Then, just when it seemed that the
Kitty
must inevitably be caught up in that rush of foam and be swept inexorably to her doom, Fraser ordered both anchors let go. A seaman swung a sledgehammer, knocking a peg loose from the cathead, and the star
board anchor crashed down through the golden sea. The port anchor followed a second after, the twin chains rattling loud in the dusk. Then, with a jerk, the
Kitty
rounded up and lay with her bows pointing toward the setting sun and her stern toward the mainland. The headland, on which Fort Ingles stood, was now on her port side.
Kitty
must inevitably be caught up in that rush of foam and be swept inexorably to her doom, Fraser ordered both anchors let go. A seaman swung a sledgehammer, knocking a peg loose from the cathead, and the star
board anchor crashed down through the golden sea. The port anchor followed a second after, the twin chains rattling loud in the dusk. Then, with a jerk, the
Kitty
rounded up and lay with her bows pointing toward the setting sun and her stern toward the mainland. The headland, on which Fort Ingles stood, was now on her port side.
The
O’Higgins
anchored a hundred yards further out. Both ships jerked and snubbed angrily, but Fraser reported that the anchors were holding. “Not that it will help us,” he added to Sharpe, “for the boats will never land on that beach.” He jerked an unshaven chin toward the
Aguada del Ingles
where, in the last slanting light, the foam was shredding spray like smoke. Cochrane might believe a landing to be possible, but Sharpe suspected that Fraser was right and that any boat that tried to land through that boiling surf would be swamped.
O’Higgins
anchored a hundred yards further out. Both ships jerked and snubbed angrily, but Fraser reported that the anchors were holding. “Not that it will help us,” he added to Sharpe, “for the boats will never land on that beach.” He jerked an unshaven chin toward the
Aguada del Ingles
where, in the last slanting light, the foam was shredding spray like smoke. Cochrane might believe a landing to be possible, but Sharpe suspected that Fraser was right and that any boat that tried to land through that boiling surf would be swamped.
Cochrane stared up to where his topmen were efficiently gathering in the
Kitty
’s sails. “The wind’s backing, Fraser?”
Kitty
’s sails. “The wind’s backing, Fraser?”
“Aye, my Lord, it is.”
Cochrane fidgeted a second. “We might leave the spanker rigged for mending, Mr. Fraser. It will hide your boats as they’re launched.”
Fraser did not like the idea. “The wind could veer, my Lord.”
“Let’s do it! Hurry now!”
The orders were given. Fraser offered Sharpe an explanation. The wind, he said, had been southerly all day, but had now gone into the west. By leaving the aftermost sail half hoisted he turned the ship into a giant weather vane. The wind would then keep the ship parallel to the beach, leaving the starboard side safely hidden from the fort. Cochrane could then launch his boats in the last of the daylight, safe from enemy gaze.
“Why not rig the sail full?” Sharpe asked. The sail was only half raised.
“Because that would look unnatural when you’re at anchor. But half rig is how you’d hoist her for mending, and a half-collapsed sail hides the far side of the quarterdeck a deal better than a fully hoisted sail. Not that I suppose anyone up there understands seamanship.”
Fraser had jerked a derisive thumb toward Fort Ingles above the beach. From Sharpe’s position on the quarterdeck, the fort’s ramparts formed the skyline, clearly showing six embrasures in its grim silhouette. The guns were less than a half mile from the
Kitty
. If the Spanish did suddenly discover that the two anchored ships were hostile, the guns would wreak havoc in the crowded lower decks. Sharpe shuddered and turned away. Harper, seeing the shudder, surreptitiously crossed himself.
Kitty
. If the Spanish did suddenly discover that the two anchored ships were hostile, the guns would wreak havoc in the crowded lower decks. Sharpe shuddered and turned away. Harper, seeing the shudder, surreptitiously crossed himself.
The sun was now a bloated ball of fire on the horizon. Ashore the shadows were lengthening and coalescing into a gray darkness. On the
Kitty
’s quarterdeck, behind the concealing folds of heavy canvas, the ship’s four longboats and two jolly boats were being lowered overboard. The Captain’s barge was the last boat to be launched. Each boat held a single seaman whose job was to keep his craft from being crushed as the frigate heaved up and down on the swells. “Another hour,” Cochrane spoke to Sharpe and Harper, “and it’ll be dark enough to land troops. Why don’t you get something to eat?”
Kitty
’s quarterdeck, behind the concealing folds of heavy canvas, the ship’s four longboats and two jolly boats were being lowered overboard. The Captain’s barge was the last boat to be launched. Each boat held a single seaman whose job was to keep his craft from being crushed as the frigate heaved up and down on the swells. “Another hour,” Cochrane spoke to Sharpe and Harper, “and it’ll be dark enough to land troops. Why don’t you get something to eat?”
Harper brightened at the thought and went below to the gundeck where the cooks were serving a stew of goat meat to the waiting men. Sharpe wanted to stay on deck. “Bring me something,” he asked as Harper swung off the quarterdeck.
Sharpe, left alone, leaned on the rail and gazed at the fort. A sudden gust of wind came off the land, ruffling the sea and
forcing Sharpe to snatch at his old-fashioned tricorne hat. The wind gust billowed the loosely rigged spanker, driving the canvas across the deck and occasioning a shout of alarm from Lieutenant Cabral who was almost thrown overboard by the gusting sail. “Stow that sail now!” Fraser ordered. The longboats were safely overboard and the spanker no longer hid any suspicious activity.
forcing Sharpe to snatch at his old-fashioned tricorne hat. The wind gust billowed the loosely rigged spanker, driving the canvas across the deck and occasioning a shout of alarm from Lieutenant Cabral who was almost thrown overboard by the gusting sail. “Stow that sail now!” Fraser ordered. The longboats were safely overboard and the spanker no longer hid any suspicious activity.
A dozen topmen scrambled up the ratlines and edged out on the mizzen yard to haul in the spanker. The wind was still pushing the sail, driving the stern of the
Kitty
away from the beach.
Kitty
away from the beach.
The wind gusted again, sighing in the rigging and making the boat lean seaward. Some of the men in the longboats feared being trapped under the hull and pushed off from the threatening
Kitty
with their long oars. The boats were all tethered to the frigate with lines, but now, as the heavy warship with its clanking pumps continued to blow toward them, the boat-minders pushed themselves as far from her tarred hull as their tethers would allow.
Kitty
with their long oars. The boats were all tethered to the frigate with lines, but now, as the heavy warship with its clanking pumps continued to blow toward them, the boat-minders pushed themselves as far from her tarred hull as their tethers would allow.
The
Kitty
kept turning so that her bows were pointing almost directly at Fort Ingles. Fraser knew that the fort’s garrison must be able to see the longboats and even the dullest Spanish officer would realize what such a sight portended. Innocent ships waiting for medical attention did not launch a fleet of longboats. “Close up, damn you, close up!” Fraser shouted at the boat-minders. The topmen had furled the sail and the
Kitty
was swinging back again.
Kitty
kept turning so that her bows were pointing almost directly at Fort Ingles. Fraser knew that the fort’s garrison must be able to see the longboats and even the dullest Spanish officer would realize what such a sight portended. Innocent ships waiting for medical attention did not launch a fleet of longboats. “Close up, damn you, close up!” Fraser shouted at the boat-minders. The topmen had furled the sail and the
Kitty
was swinging back again.
Cochrane came running up from his cabin where he had been eating an early supper. “What the hell is happening?”
“Wind veered.” Fraser decently did not add that he had warned of just such a danger. “It drove us around.”
“Sweet Jesus!” Cochrane, a leg of chicken in his hand, stared at the fort. The longboats were hidden again. “Did
they see?” He asked the question of no one, merely articulating a worry.
they see?” He asked the question of no one, merely articulating a worry.
The fort’s silhouette betrayed nothing. No one moved there, no one waved from the ramparts. The gaunt semaphore gallows stayed unmoving.
Cochrane bit into the chicken. “They’re asleep.”
“Thank God for that,” Fraser said.
“Thank God indeed,” Cochrane said fervently, for the only thing that had kept the
Kitty
safe from a murderous bombardment was the Spaniards’ inattention. Cochrane bit the last meat off the chicken leg. “No harm done, eh? The silly buggers are all dozing!” He hurled the chicken bone toward the high fortress as a derisory gesture.
Kitty
safe from a murderous bombardment was the Spaniards’ inattention. Cochrane bit the last meat off the chicken leg. “No harm done, eh? The silly buggers are all dozing!” He hurled the chicken bone toward the high fortress as a derisory gesture.
And the fortress replied.
For the sentries on the ramparts of Fort Ingles had seen the longboats after all. The garrison had not been dozing, and now the gunners opened fire. Sharpe saw the smoke, heard the scream of a cannonball, then felt the shuddering crashes as the first two shots slammed into the
Kitty
’s weakened hull.
Kitty
’s weakened hull.
The Spaniards had been ready, and Cochrane’s men were trapped.
BOOK: Sharpe 3-Book Collection 7: Sharpe's Revenge, Sharpe's Waterloo, Sharpe's Devil
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