Sharpe's Exploits

Supposedly happily married, and yet the mere mention of Theresa was like an invincible hammer blow to his gut. Richard prided himself on his ability to hide emotion, but the reflexive tightening of his face, and the slight jerking of his body couldn't be missed at the distance between Kate and himself.

As she kissed him, he found himself responding to her, but abruptly he broke off the kiss and spoke.

"Miss, why come all this way to renew an old acquaintance? I'm sure you remember that a battlefield is a poor bloody place for a woman at the best of times. My boys and I march out of here in about 3 hours - this is as much comfort as you'll see for a hundred miles in any direction."
 
Kate Savage

"Three hours is a very long time if one makes proper use of it."

She once again felt the blush, knowing she was acting like a courtesan rather than a respectable woman. Yet there was something about Sharpe, something that had haunted her ever since that day on the River Douro when he had fought both James Christoper and the horrid Williams.

"No man ever risked his life for me Richard, and no one ever showed such kindness as you did to me."

Looking down but still holding on to him for the comfort of his body.

"I loved you ever since that night in House Beautiful..."
 
Major Richard Sharpe

Richard looked down at the gravel, then back up at the woman in his arms. Scarcely believing what he heard.

"Uhmm. It's a shame you weren't here a few days ago, Kate. I could have introduced you to Mrs. Jane Sharpe."

He felt like an utter bastard saying it, but he wasn't willing to hide this from her either. As much as he wanted her.
 
Kate Savage

"Uhmm. It's a shame you weren't here a few days ago, Kate. I could have introduced you to Mrs. Jane Sharpe."

He was married! The words hit Kate like a kick in the teeth. Oh God I've been behaving like a whore in front of a married man. She could feel tears welling up and without a word she turned from him, trying to act dignified but she was unable as the sniffles burst into sobs.

Turning around, not looking at him she started to walk, I need to get out of here

Of course he'd be married, she had been stupid thinking him still a bachelor. She cursed herself as she paced down the tracks, the complete loss of wits that had compelled her to leave her home in Oporto on a whim.

Stumbling across the rough path, not noticing the leers and explicit comments she attracted as she passed the mass of soldiers. Then she felt a heavy hand land on her shoulder, making her scream in fright.

"Look here missy, such a pretty lil' thing as yourself should not walk all alone in a place like this"

Turning around she saw a the pox-marked face of a soldier, bottle in hand and a leer on his face.

"You should stay here with me and I take care of you. Now give us a kiss."

She tried to get away but his hand found her wrist and squeezed it hard, brining his face closer to hers, his breath reeking of cheap brandy and rum.
 
Pressed close to the face as she was, Kate had an excellent view of the boot that crashed into the side of it. While the man was reeling, Sharpe slid from his horse and kicked him massively in the crotch - causing him to collapse in a rum soaked ball of misery.

Sharpes boot found him once more for good measure.

"Any one of you muckpoxed bastards so much as looks at this lady and I'll present your balls to her as sweetmeats! Understand?"

The huge sword swept out and pointed down at the man's crotch as if to illustrate the point.

"Understand?"

The man's friends grabbed him and dragged him back out of the way, nodding their understanding to this insane officer who had appeared out of nowhere.

"Didn't mean no harm your officership. Just wanted to share a drink with the pretty lady. Didn't mean no disrespect, we was only trying to be friendly."

Sharpe spat. "Bugger off, then."

The men filtered away, understanding that the provosts wouldn't be involved and glad because of it. If their friend had tried to fight back he could have been hung for striking an officer. Touching an officers wife often turned into a Rape charge, which had the same punishment in Nosey's army.

Sharpe sheathed the huge blade with a curse and leant down to gently lift Kate to her feet, holding her close and feeling her shuddering breaths and shivers of shock. "Silly thing, you haven't learned an ounce of sense in all these years, have you? I'm still rushing about protecting your honour, eh?"
 
Susannah

"Have you ever been in love Susannah?"
The question was not what she had been expecting and for a moment Susannah didn’t know quite what to say. She settled on smiling shyly and shaking her head. It was an honest response, she hadn’t yet felt that stirring deep inside her heart and in her body that she knew she would feel the day she fell in love. Like all girls of her age she had had infatuations now and then but never anything more substantial.

The rest of the journey passed by quickly enough and their arrival at the camp along with Miss Savage’s brusque instruction to the corporal that met them found Susannah fighting to hide a wide grin. Then came Mister Sharpe. Susannah felt her cheeks flush and a sensation a little like dizziness cloud her mind for a moment as she looked up at the handsome man upon the horse. The reasoning behind Miss Savage’s keen interest in him was more than obvious to Susannah and she found herself having to avert her eyes lest she be caught staring at him.
She was rather relieved when she was asked to remain inside the carriage, following Miss Savage’s fainting spell. She felt as if she was almost prying upon a secret by standing so close to the pair of them as they talked.

She tried not to listen to what was being said on the other side of the carriage door, picking up her book and losing herself in the dramatic events unfolding on the pages before her. She had been reading for a little while when she realised the voices outside had gone, opening the door a little and stealing a glimpse outside confirmed that Mister Sharpe and Miss Savage had moved elsewhere to continue their conversation.

Susannah sat for another few minutes, the door to the carriage ever so slightly ajar so that she could watch the soldiers milling about outside and keep an eye open for Miss Savage’s return. Eventually she decided that wherever Miss Savage had gone it was unlikely she had gone alone and that Mister Sharpe looked more than capable of looking after her. Susannah knew that Miss Savage wouldn’t expect her to wait there alone for too long and that she should probably head towards the main camp and enquire about lodging for Miss Savage and herself.

Susannah closed the door and pushed down the window, her eyes scanning those passing by until she saw someone who might be able to help.
You…you there…!” She called out to a young looking soldier, walking past with a rifle propped against his shoulder. He looked younger than she and that had been her intention. She needed to find someone who wouldn’t ask her too many questions, or question her reason for being there. “I require an escort to the main camp…” She kept her voice steady and her expression serious. “As I am sure you can appreciate, a woman travelling alone would never feel truly safe without one, even in a place such as this…” Susannah hesitated over saying anything further. Going on her limited knowledge of the military, the boyish soldier appeared to be a private and therefore didn’t need to know the details. She let her eyes rise away from his face, looking away into the distance with an air she had watched Miss Savage use many a time, leaving the young lad little choice but to comply with her request and soon enough the carriage was rumbling along the road towards the main camp.

Susannah had no clear idea of what she would do when she got there but that was a hurdle she would deal with when she reached it. She didn’t doubt that referring to Miss Savage would help her, as well as dropping Mister Sharpe’s name here and there wouldn’t hurt the cause either. Smiling slightly, and leaning out of the window a little, Susannah let the sunlight warm her face.
 
Alfonso stepped back, limping a bit in pain. He grew even more furious at her words, and he even found it within himself to don't give a damn about the French woman pulling a dagger out. If anything, that calmed him down. He couldn't afford being stupid, and rushing in just to get skewered. Fencing was a sport that required a cool head.

In war, he needed something else.

Justine circled to his left, and he saw himself forced to follow to keep his sabre between her weapons and his own body. He didn't intend to surrender his soul so soon.

"We ill need solidarity on the tip of a sword! This is the only gratitude you will receive!"

Just as he said that, the woman's blade came in. Alfonso leapt to his left at the same time he parried, putting the woman's sword arm in front so she couldn't use her dagger comfortably, and hit her sword on purpose to keep it away. Perhaps he was as agile as her, but he still couldn't manage to kill her in cold blood. Alfonso wanted to capture her if possible, and so it was as long as he out-lasted her. If she tired before he did...

Alfonso started doubting he actually would be capable of killing her. For all the time he had been training, they'd never told him he might have to kill a woman. And for all he tried to get past that barrier, he couldn't, or perhaps didn't want to in the first place. Her blood on her breeches looked horrible for... such a beautiful woman. Despite all his will behind his sword, Alfonso found that his eyes lingered on her blonde hair and her figure. He had to admit, her fighting was elegant.

Stepping away, he relaxed and held his sword a bit loosely, staring into the French officer's eyes. "You don't need to die here. Surrender, and you will be treated properly as my prisoner."
 
Patrick Harper watched the men disperse, they would be on the move again soon enough and the big Irishman understood a soldiers need to rest when you could , eat when you could and sleep when could , for you never knew when you might next do these things.

"Not a bad lot RSM" said the soft educated voice of Harris a man few in the rifles underestimated for beside the soft educated voice lay a true man, a man you were glad to have by yourside , a man who made a difference.

"They will do" Harper said with a smile.

"Carriage RSM" Harris said pointing to Harper's left.

When Harris said carriage Harper knew he really meant at least one new book is arriving the man lived for reading and whilst Harper knew his letters, thanks mostly to Mr Sharpe, he didn't share the obsession with them that Harris had.

Harper looked as the carriage entered the camp proper. Trouble thats all he saw, be it some missionary , they had descended on Spain with avengence spreading the word of the Protestants, or some toff or even worse some woman on a mission to say a final goodbye to one of the officers.

"God save Ireland" Harper said under his breath and made to walk towards the carriage.

"Thats okay Private you can go about your duties now " the young man by the carriage seemed relieved at the command, not a good sign.

The driver stopped the carriage , Harper gave the man a quick once over seeing no threat he moved to the door and knocked.

"Regimental Sergeant Major Harper at your service and how may I be helping you this fine morning"
 
Susannah

"Regimental Sergeant Major Harper at your service and how may I be helping you this fine morning"
Susannah jumped a little at the sharp knock on the carriage door, she had been expecting someone to come and greet her, to find who she was and what she wanted but even so she found herself taking a steadying breath as she opened the door. Miss Savage's words about the ills of soldiers and their licentious behavious suddenly running through her mind. Perhaps she should have stayed where she was...
Too late now.

The door swung open and Susannah found herself looking at a tall, broad shouldered man, his eyes were kind in spite of his rather serious expression. The irish lilt in his voice immediately caught her attention. With her auburn locks and green eyes she was often mistaken for having irish heritage.
"Good morning, Major...I am certain you have more pressing tasks at hand than helping me out but rest assured if you point me in the right direction I am sure I will manage alone..." Susannh carefully climbed down from the carriage to stand before him, having to crane her neck slightly to meet his gaze, smiling brightly. "My mistress, Miss Katherine Savage, is visiting Mister Sharpe and I am here to procure lodging for during her stay...could you recommend somewhere...?" Susannah asked, lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the late afternoon sun.
 
Harper smiled for many reason's ,not the least of which was due to this young lady's beauty.

"It's Sergeant Major, Miss, not Major heaven forbid that I would become an officer and be forced to drink tea" he said with a smile.

"As for lodgings , well there is a small village a mile down the way but I would greatly doubt if they had anything that would pass as lodging's , at least not as would be suitable for ladies." In reality in the middle of a military camp there was only one place to stay.

"Probably the best place for you to stay ma'am until we can find something suitable would be Mr Sharpe's tent, as for managing alone well you're quite welcome to, but I think Mr Sharpe would prefer that his guests stay whole, so I'll escort you if you don't mind , its not too far to walk."

Savage where had he heard that name, and as Harper looked around the immediate area he couldn't notice the looks on the men , if this Miss Savage was half as beautiful as the young lady in front of him then there was going to be trouble.

"So ma'am ,what would be your name be if you don't mind me asking and would you hail from the hearty emerald shores by chance" if she wasn't Irish she looked it.

Harper thought of home frequently soon maybe this mess would be over and he could return but in his heart he knew the worst was yet to come.
 
Susannah

"It's Sergeant Major, Miss, not Major heaven forbid that I would become an officer and be forced to drink tea"
Susannah returned the smile he gave her, something in his voice put her at ease. Melting a few of the worries that had been attempting to knot her stomach.
"As for lodgings , well there is a small village a mile down the way but I would greatly doubt if they had anything that would pass as lodging's, at least not as would be suitable for ladies."
"Oh I see..." Susannah's voice fell a little, the prospect of having to reside inside the carriage was not one she looked forward to in the slightest.

"Probably the best place for you to stay ma'am until we can find something suitable would be Mr Sharpe's tent, as for managing alone well you're quite welcome to, but I think Mr Sharpe would prefer that his guests stay whole, so I'll escort you if you don't mind , its not too far to walk."
Susannah nodded her head and began to walk alongside the tall soldier.
"Thank you...Sergeant Major..." She added with a wry smile, stressing his title ever so slightly.

"So ma'am ,what would be your name be if you don't mind me asking and would you hail from the hearty emerald shores by chance"
Susannah laughed, a light bright sound that lit up her eyes.
"I was wondering how long it would be before you asked me that. I'm not from the emerald isle...no where near in fact. My family hails from Yorkshire...always has done as far as I know. I think some of my father's family lived in London and I think there's a distant cousin somewhere who..." She paused, wincing slightly as she looked up. "...I'm rambling, do forgive me...I'm Susannah, Susannah Smythe..." She held out her hand as if to shake his, a habit she picked up from her brothers at home, causing her to wince again and begin to take it back.
 
Kate Savage

Steiner said:
"Silly thing, you haven't learned an ounce of sense in all these years, have you? I'm still rushing about protecting your honour, eh?"

Kate winced at his words, he was right but it still hurt to have him spell it out. She found herself wondering what would have happened had he not been there, and knew that she'd rather not contemplate it. The look on the face of the soldier had spoken volumes about his intentions.

"I'm sorry."

She didn't know what else to say, there was no way she could express her feelings. Kate had gambled and lost, and now she'd have to face up to the consequences. She'd leave the very same day, going back to Oporto and her respectable life. The thought didn't strike her as comforting though, especially not now when in his arms. She leaned closer as he held her, once again experiencing the same feelings she'd had when he first kissed her.

It was stupid, she knew that, and the thought made her break into tears. He was married thus there would be no room for Kate in his life. Knowing she'd better get going, but couldn't muster the strenght to break their embrace.

"I'll leave today."

The words no more than a whisper as she leaned her head on his shoulder, trying to memorise the feel of him.
 
Justine de Villiers

Katamari Roller said:
Alfonso stepped back, limping a bit in pain. He grew even more furious at her words, and he even found it within himself to don't give a damn about the French woman pulling a dagger out. If anything, that calmed him down. He couldn't afford being stupid, and rushing in just to get skewered. Fencing was a sport that required a cool head.

In war, he needed something else.

Justine circled to his left, and he saw himself forced to follow to keep his sabre between her weapons and his own body. He didn't intend to surrender his soul so soon.

"We ill need solidarity on the tip of a sword! This is the only gratitude you will receive!"

Just as he said that, the woman's blade came in. Alfonso leapt to his left at the same time he parried, putting the woman's sword arm in front so she couldn't use her dagger comfortably, and hit her sword on purpose to keep it away. Perhaps he was as agile as her, but he still couldn't manage to kill her in cold blood. Alfonso wanted to capture her if possible, and so it was as long as he out-lasted her. If she tired before he did...

Alfonso started doubting he actually would be capable of killing her. For all the time he had been training, they'd never told him he might have to kill a woman. And for all he tried to get past that barrier, he couldn't, or perhaps didn't want to in the first place. Her blood on her breeches looked horrible for... such a beautiful woman. Despite all his will behind his sword, Alfonso found that his eyes lingered on her blonde hair and her figure. He had to admit, her fighting was elegant.

Stepping away, he relaxed and held his sword a bit loosely, staring into the French officer's eyes. "You don't need to die here. Surrender, and you will be treated properly as my prisoner."

"Prisoner?"

She lunged again, giving a short laugh at his offer. Justine de Villiers did not take prisoners, and should any man under her command be left behind, wounded or otherwise, he was expected to die honourably rather than surrender.

The Spanish officer was good, but he lacked the ruthlessness of Justine's. She edged closer her sabre pointed to his chest, the position making it possible for her to either a stab or a slash.

"The Spanish are a race of slaves." She taunted him purposefully, wanting him to lose concentration, to lunge in anger. "An anachronism." Aiming a kick for his shins and moving to his left, slashing at his unprotected sides with her dagger.

Justine knew it wouldn't last, sooner or later he'd grow tired and have her shot. She would have had the roles been the reverse. Then, the glorious sound of the Signal de Chasserus, Risking a glance seeing how they had lined up ready to charge at the unhorsed Spanish hussars.

Smirking at the Captain, once again taunting him.

"I usually don't take prisoners Capitan, but I could make an exception. Yield now and your life will be spared."
 
Lady_Mornington said:
Kate winced at his words, he was right but it still hurt to have him spell it out. She found herself wondering what would have happened had he not been there, and knew that she'd rather not contemplate it. The look on the face of the soldier had spoken volumes about his intentions.

"I'm sorry."

She didn't know what else to say, there was no way she could express her feelings. Kate had gambled and lost, and now she'd have to face up to the consequences. She'd leave the very same day, going back to Oporto and her respectable life. The thought didn't strike her as comforting though, especially not now when in his arms. She leaned closer as he held her, once again experiencing the same feelings she'd had when he first kissed her.

It was stupid, she knew that, and the thought made her break into tears. He was married thus there would be no room for Kate in his life. Knowing she'd better get going, but couldn't muster the strenght to break their embrace.

"I'll leave today."

The words no more than a whisper as she leaned her head on his shoulder, trying to memorise the feel of him.

Sharpe felt his heart going out to the girl in his arms. No - not a girl any longer, he decided. A woman.

Sending her back in heartbroken disgrace was not something he was willing to do. At the very least, he realised, he should keep an eye on her for a day or two. Sharpe had a jaundiced view of monogamous marriage - he had been frequently unfaithful to Teresa, a woman he'd loved enormously, and for all he knew she'd been equally unfaithful to him. Their lives had driven them apart and whilst they had put each other first when they'd been together, they had each had few illusions about what happened when they were apart.

He sighed. He'd wanted things to be different with Jane, he truly had. Still, it seemed that Dame Fortune had other ideas for him, and he knew that Fortune was the woman he was TRULY married to - even if it was her sister, Glory, that he lusted after.

"Look, Kate. You've come all this way, if you turn tail and run home after finding out about Jane, then everyone will know why. Why don't you visit for a few days? Say hello to the lads again - I know a few would be glad to see you again. I've still got Dan Hagman, Pat Harper, Isiah Tongue - you remember the lads?" Sharpe smiled gently, encouragingly.

"I've got some utterly foul Spanish wine and a decent Spanish brandy. We could have a few glasses, talk about the old days and what's happened to us since. We could part dear friends, with no regrets."

He squeezed her gently, supporting her in his arms still.

"You could cheer for me in today's battle, if you like."
 
Kate Savage

Kate braved herself to smile, still unwilling to let go of him, She knew that his offer was made because he wouldn't see her fall into disrepute. It was strange really. Sharpe was no gentleman but he had always appeared more chivalrous than any member of the proper gentry. He'd never forced himself onto her, and God knows he'd had ample an opportunity. Even for the brief moment of their kiss he'd been gentle, letting her set the pace rather than to display his own wants and needs.

"Yes I suppose I could do that, and as far as wine goes I brought some of Savage's best. A Major shouldn't have to suffer the perils of the localy produced wine."

She glanced up at him, seeing how his face took on an alltogether softer look as he smiled. Feeling the familiar sensation that always occured when she thought of him, and having to bite her lip in order not to gasp. God she wanted him. Knowing she'd better get a grip of herself she slowly disentangled herself and patted down her dress. He was still standing so very close. Looking at him, unable to phrase any coherent sentences and instead leaning her head slightly to the side, the gesture evident and wanting him to follow through.
 
Sharpe cursed himself for a weak fool. He SHOULD have gotten one or two of his trusted men to guide her out of the camp and out of the area. He should have held himself utterly rigid as she clung to him. He should have done almost anything but what he was about to do.

Which was kiss her.

He could see the need in her eyes, and he'd always found that so infectious in a pretty woman. Kate was as pretty as any that he'd known. Sharpe knew that today could be the last chance he'd get to kiss anyone, and as always he took what life had to offer with both hands.

Leaning in closer still he let his cheek brush hers, then pulled back until their lips met. She had been passionate enough when she'd kissed him before, but this time he let her feel some of the hunger he had for her, his passion burning through his tenderness as their kiss deepened and lengthened.

Finally he stepped back and offered her his arm. "Your carriage, Miss Savage?"
 
Kate Savage

Kate nodded at his suggestion. Not knowing what else to say, nor how to phrase it. If their first kiss had been gentle and their second hesitant, this was every other emotion conceivable. She had felt his need as well as displaying her own. His hands on her back as he had pulled her closer to him had sent shivers of pure pleasure racing through her body.

She had abhorred the idea of intimacy, James having been very forceful, seemingly taking pleasure in inflicting pain. Sharpe on the other hand seemed careful never to push her even though he clearly wanted more.

"Where are you billetted Richard?"

Hoping it would be somewhere a tad more private than the canvas tents supplied for most of the men in the camp. She needed to get Susannah out of the way as well.

"Not that it matters though," she added feeling the blush rise anew, "as long as you're there."

Her words had been hardly more than a whisper, as she put her slender hand in his. Giving him a sweet smile before frowning seeing as her coach was nowhere to be seen.

Strangely enough it didn't seem such a big issue to Kate, at least Susannah would be out of the way for now. Besides she had a sensible head, more so than Kate herself, and she would know what to do. Turning to Richard again

"It seems we are in a for a bit of a walk then Major..."
 
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Alfonso dodged the woman's kicks, almost grinning at the childishness of the tactic. He felt it was rather funny, but his grin was more like that of a man who knows not to trip on the same stone twice. I'm a dog who learns his lessons when they come.

Stepping back to dodge her attacks, Alfonso defended himself with simple wrist turns to handle his sabre, deflecting the woman's attacks with some efforts. Using one sword against both a sword and dagger was not difficult if he kept his distance, though, and that was what he did. The clanging of the steel was like music to his ears, only interrupted by the call from behind Justine. There was no small surprise on Alfonso's face, but that did not mean he was going to fall to his knees and plead for his life. Not with a hundred men behind him, who by now would be coming ever close.

In fact, what had been a background noise of voices and the clanging of cooking utensils and weapons being hurled about, was now silence and a faint trembling under his feet. Alfonso smiled arrogantly at the woman, knowing his victory was at hand if he managed to survive a charge of about twenty men, probably more. No small feat, but by God, worse odds someone had to have survived some time before he did.

"You said I belong to a race of slaves. But slaves have no name. I am Alfonso de Avellanos y Marca."

The trembling under their feet intensified, as from the few whiffs of smoke still left behind Alfonso, dark silhouettes appeared in great numbers. The squad behind Alfonso crouched, forming a line, and aimed their carbines at the French cavalry. And with some courage gathered almost completely from the adrenaline in his blood, and the fire in his mind ignited by gunpowder and anger, Alfonso attacked Justine one last time. With fury expressed in speed and strength, he lunged at her with slashing attacks, looking for an opening to further colour the woman's clothes in red.
 
The coach was gone. His horse was gone. The helpful young officer was gone.

"Just like always. An infantryman has to be ready to walk anywhere, eh?"

Sharpe was dressed for fighting today, even though his rifle jacket was new, he still wore the much repaired cavalry overalls and the well repaired boots. Walking was not a hazard for him, although by the time the South Essex lines were in sight, he sensed that Kate was finding the going tough - despite his walking slowly.

"We're almost there, Kate. Just over there - can't you see the colours from here?" the flags waved in the breeze and a soft expression stole over Sharpe's face. He'd had to rescue the South Essex's right to bear those once - at Talavera - and he still liked to see them waving bravely in the wind.
 
Justine de Villiers

Katamari Roller said:
Alfonso dodged the woman's kicks, almost grinning at the childishness of the tactic. He felt it was rather funny, but his grin was more like that of a man who knows not to trip on the same stone twice. I'm a dog who learns his lessons when they come.

Stepping back to dodge her attacks, Alfonso defended himself with simple wrist turns to handle his sabre, deflecting the woman's attacks with some efforts. Using one sword against both a sword and dagger was not difficult if he kept his distance, though, and that was what he did. The clanging of the steel was like music to his ears, only interrupted by the call from behind Justine. There was no small surprise on Alfonso's face, but that did not mean he was going to fall to his knees and plead for his life. Not with a hundred men behind him, who by now would be coming ever close.

In fact, what had been a background noise of voices and the clanging of cooking utensils and weapons being hurled about, was now silence and a faint trembling under his feet. Alfonso smiled arrogantly at the woman, knowing his victory was at hand if he managed to survive a charge of about twenty men, probably more. No small feat, but by God, worse odds someone had to have survived some time before he did.

"You said I belong to a race of slaves. But slaves have no name. I am Alfonso de Avellanos y Marca."

The trembling under their feet intensified, as from the few whiffs of smoke still left behind Alfonso, dark silhouettes appeared in great numbers. The squad behind Alfonso crouched, forming a line, and aimed their carbines at the French cavalry. And with some courage gathered almost completely from the adrenaline in his blood, and the fire in his mind ignited by gunpowder and anger, Alfonso attacked Justine one last time. With fury expressed in speed and strength, he lunged at her with slashing attacks, looking for an opening to further colour the woman's clothes in red.

"I shall remember that name when I tell your mother how you died screaming like a pig."

She parried his thrusts, cutting at his wrist with her dagger, She knew that Benoit would not charge but rather keep at some distance. Knowing she'd have one chance of getting out, she took two steps back, dropping her dagger and grabbing a fistful of grovel.

de Avellanos y Marca advanced, perhaps falling for her ruse that she had stumbled and as he did she flung the dirt at his face, making him flinch and stop his advance. She turned on her heel and began running. Her dragoons seeing what was about to happen opened fire, to cover her retreat, one of them spurring on to meet her, a re-mount held by the bridle.

The Spanish were not idly taking the punishment, and Justine could feel the how the bullets were screaming past her, wondering if the Spanish captain would shoot her in the back...

Reaching her remount as the dragoon who'd ridden to save her took a shot to his head, silently toppling over and sending his terrified horse into a gallop. She grabbed the reins, flung herself into the saddle and putting her spurs in it's side charged for the relative safety of her company.

"Colonel, you're wounded." It was Benoit and Justine could discern that he was worried.

"A fleshwound Major, besides you acted recklessly coming back for me. Our orders are very clear."

She gave him a stern glance as they rode away, vowing that the next time she'd meet de Avellanos y Marca he would indeed die screaming.
 
Kate Savage

"Just like always. An infantryman has to be ready to walk anywhere, eh?"

Kate smiled, her arm on his as he started to walk. Her dress perhaps not as suitable as his yet she kept pace with him. Not wanting him to believe that she'd gone soft. They passed a few soldiers sitting around a campfire, the smell of tea drifting through the air.

And if I ever enlist again, the Devil shall be me Sergeant.
Poor old soldier, poor old soldier
And if I ever enlist again, the Devil shall be me Sergeant


The words sung coarsely by one of the infantrymen, and she saw how Richard was mouthing the words silently.

"Would you then?" She smiled as she saw the puzzled expression, "I mean stay in the army after Bonaparte is defeated?"

She guessed he would, it was hard imagining Richard Sharpe doing anything else than being an officer. But perhaps, just perhaps he wanted something else than the life of a soldier. She slid her hand down his arm and found his, intertwining her slender fingers with his and giving him a gentle sqeeze.

"I've missed you Richard."
 
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"Humph!" Alfonso scowled at the insolent's words, continuing his attack, but he had to again step back when the woman stepped in close. She went right for his wrist, and managed to make a shallow cut right under his palm. The stinging pain almost made him drop his sword, but it was disorienting enough that he almost didn't notice the dirt.

"Gah!" He wasn't fast enough to bring an arm up to cover his face, but he did manage to close his eyes. He heard a volley get close, and he ducked. Alfonso knew that was not good enough to dodge bullets, but he didn't feel them hit him. Instead, he heard cries from the men that had come out to cover him, and their bullets tore through the air after the French. By that moment, Alfonso had managed to open his eyes, and squinted, looking in the distance at the wall of blue that galloped away.

"Senyor!" Behind him, Fernandez came with his mount, and two of his four troops of cavalry passed by them in hot pursuit. Alfonso felt more than inclined towards going with them, to make the French pay for daring to come back to Spanish soil. But, they had a mission to carry out.

"Fernandez, send the cavalry troops back. We have to go back to our mission..." Looking down, Alfonso noticed he was bleeding profusely. Fernandez had already noticed, though, and was bandaging Alfonso's wrist even before he had ordered him to. He was definitely a dependable soldier.

"We will meet up with Sharpe's troops. This was just a little problem." Alfonso sighed. If what they said about British intolerance with lack of protocolary timeliness...
 
Richard shrugged. "I don't know that I will, you know. It's been hard enough for me to get the South Essex - keeping them in a peacetime military will be nearly impossible. And to be honest, I've never enjoyed peacetime soldiering. It turns to all parades and buttonshining. Soldiering isn't really my profession, so much as war is, I think."

Knowing he painted a grim picture of himself to the girl, he turned his head at her and smiled.

"But I have my ambitions for civilian life. A farm in the Essex countryside. Some animals. An orchard maybe. Pigs. And children, of course. That should keep me busy enough. And war hasn't been an unkind mistress, I've enough put by to turn those impossible soldiers dreams into reality when I choose."

At her statement that she'd missed him, he found himself wishing that he could just lie to her and say that it had been the same for him.

"There's been so much that's happened since we met, Kate. The siege at Almeida. The long march through Spain. The breach at Badajoz. The eagle at Talavera. First commanding the Light Company and now the whole South Essex. I've been busy."
 
Justine de Villiers

She took her remaining dragoons on an encricling road, keeping well clear of Captain de Avellanos y Marca's hussars. She'd gladly charge them again, deeming her battle-hardened more than up for the challenge. But her orders were clear, reach the Allied lines and then make contact. The British for all their irritating habits were still sensible, or would have been had they understood not to stand in the way of France's ambitions.

Her father had long lamented the fact that the two truely great nations of Europe had to be pitted against eachother. When instead the genious of Bonaparte and the ingenuity of England could have been harnessed to take Europe into a bright new future. Justine didn't share her late father's admiration for the British, but she understood that they were uses. To her there was only one country and that was France. And she was damned if she'd see France being humiliated.

"Stand on Major, we still have a long way to go."

She called out and spurred her horse on, taking the lead of the column
 
Kate Savage

"But I have my ambitions for civilian life. A farm in the Essex countryside. Some animals. An orchard maybe. Pigs. And children, of course. That should keep me busy enough. And war hasn't been an unkind mistress, I've enough put by to turn those impossible soldiers dreams into reality when I choose."

His words cut like a knife through her. She could tell more from the things he didn't say that the one thing he truely desired was the one he didn't name. Mrs. Jane Sharpe.

Kate bit her lips, looking the other way as she struggled not to burst into tears. It was pointless of her to pursuit this. She knew it, but then again he had kissed her with such intensity that...No it was pointless to think anything other than that he wanted a companion for the night.

"There's been so much that's happened since we met, Kate. The siege at Almeida. The long march through Spain. The breach at Badajoz. The eagle at Talavera. First commanding the Light Company and now the whole South Essex. I've been busy."

"You've become quite the hero Richard, Taking the Eagle at Talavera, and being the first through the breech at Badajoz. I can see what you mean when you said the things about war."

She didn't look at him as they continued their walk, only gripping his hand tighter.

"But will you be content Richard? With the house in the country and the orchard and the pigs?"

Kate had spoken softly, her question not merited by malice but rather curiosity. She remembered how full of anticipation he had been when he'd prepared the defences on the hill all these years ago, and the fervour which he had shown when fighting at the River Douro. He was a soldier that much was certain, and it seemed that Richard Sharpe would never be satisfied with a civilian life. Although her reasoning could be merited to jealousy, perhaps Jane Sharpe had all that he craved. The traits that would keep him content even after the last enemy had surrendered.
 
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