"Cornwell, Bernard - Sharpe 19 - Sharpe's Havoc" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cornwell Bernard)

ДNot till you reach Amarante,Ф Vicente said, Дand that is on the River Tamega. It is a ... how do you say? A side river? Tributary, thank you, of the Douro, but once across the Tamega there is a bridge over the Douro at Peso da Regua.Ф
ДAnd are the Frogs on the far side of the Tamega?Ф
Vicente shook his head. ДWe were told General Silveira is there.Ф
Being told that a Portuguese general was waiting across a river was not the same as knowing it, Sharpe thought. ДAnd thereТs a ferry over the Douro,Ф he asked, Дnot far from here?Ф
Vicente nodded. ДAt Barca dТAvintas.Ф
ДHow close is it?Ф
Vicente thought for a heartbeat. ДMaybe a half-hourТs walk? Less, probably.Ф
ДThat close?Ф But if the ferry was close to Oporto then the French could already be there. ДAnd how far is Amarante?Ф
ДWe could be there tomorrow.Ф
ДTomorrow,Ф Sharpe echoed, then collapsed the telescope. He stared south. Was that dust thrown up by the French? Were they on their way to Barca dТAvintas? He wanted to use the ferry because it was so much nearer, but also riskier. Would the French be expecting fugitives to use the ferry? Or perhaps the invaders did not even know it existed. There was only one way to find out. ДHow do we get to Barca dТAvintas?Ф he asked Vicente, gesturing back down the track that led through the cork oaks. ДThe same way we came?Ф
ДThere is a quicker path,Ф Vicente said.
ДThen lead on.Ф
Some of the men were sleeping, but Harper kicked them awake and they all followed Vicente off the road and down into a gentle valley where vines grew in neatly tended rows. From there they climbed another hill and walked through meadows dotted with the small haystacks left from the previous year. Flowers studded the grass and twined about the witch-hat haystacks, while blossoms filled the hedgerows. There was no path, though Vicente led the men confidently enough.
ДYou know where youТre going?Ф Sharpe asked suspiciously after a while.
ДI know this landscape,Ф Vicente assured the rifleman, ДI know it well.Ф
You grew up here, then?Ф
Vicente shook his head. ДI was raised in Coimbra. ThatТs far to the south, senhor, but I know this landscape because I belongФ-he checked and corrected himself-Фbelonged to a society that walks here.Ф
ДA society that walks in the countryside?Ф Sharpe asked, amused.
Vicente blushed. ДWe are philosophers, senhor, and poets.Ф
Sharpe was too astonished to respond immediately, but finally managed a question. ДYou were what?Ф
УPhilosophers and poets, senhor.Ф
УJesus bloody Christ,Ф Sharpe said.
ДWe believe, senhor,Ф Vicente went on, Дthat there is inspiration in the countryside. The country, you see, is natural, while towns are made by man and so harbor all menТs wickedness. If we wish to discover our natural goodness then it must be sought in the country.Ф He was having trouble finding the right English words to express what he meant. ДThere is, I think,Ф he tried again, Дa natural goodness in the world and we seek it.Ф
ДSo you come here for inspiration?Ф
ДWe do, yes.Ф Vicente nodded eagerly.
Giving inspiration to a lawyer, Sharpe thought sourly, was like feeding fine brandy to a rat. ДAnd let me guess,Ф he said, barely hiding his derision, Дthat the members of your society of rhyming philosophers are all men. Not a woman among you, eh?Ф
ДHow did you know?Ф Vicente asked in amazement.
ДI told you, I guessed.Ф
Vicente nodded. ДIt is not, of course, that we do not like women. You must not think that we do not want their company, but they are reluctant to join our discussions. They would be most welcome, of course, but ... У His voice tailed away.
ДWomen are like that,Ф Sharpe said. Women, he had found, preferred the company of rogues to the joys of conversation with sober and earnest young men like Lieutenant Vicente who harbored romantic dreams about the world and whose thin black mustache had patently been grown in an attempt to make himself look older and more sophisticated and only succeeded in making him look younger. ДTell me something, Lieutenant,Ф he said.
ДJorge,Ф Vicente interrupted him, Дmy name is Jorge. Like your saint.Ф
ДSo tell me something, Jorge. You said you had some training as a soldier. What kind of training was it?Ф
ДWe had lectures in Porto.Ф
ДLectures?Ф
ДOn the history of warfare. On Hannibal, Alexander and Caesar.Ф
ДBook learning?Ф Sharpe asked, not hiding his derision.
ДBook learning,Ф Vicente said bravely, Дcomes naturally to a lawyer, and a lawyer, moreover, who saved your life, Lieutenant.Ф
Sharpe grunted, knowing he had deserved that mild reproof. ДWhat did happen back there,Ф he asked, Дwhen you rescued me? I know you shot one of your sergeants, but why didnТt the French hear you do that?Ф
ДAh!Ф Vicente frowned, thinking. ДI shall be honest, Lieutenant, and tell you it is not all to my credit. I had shot the Sergeant before I saw you. He was telling the men to strip off their uniforms and run away. Some did and the others would not listen to me so I shot him. It was very sad. And most of the men were in the tavern by the river, close to where the French made their barricade.Ф Sharpe had seen no tavern; he had been too busy trying to extricate his men from the dragoons to notice one. ДIt was then I saw you coming. Sergeant MacedoФ-Vicente gestured toward a squat, dark-faced man stumping along behind-Фwanted to stay hidden in the tavern and I told the men that it was time to fight for Portugal. Most did not seem to listen, so I drew my pistol, senhor, and I went into the road. I thought I would die, but I also thought I must set an example.Ф
ДBut your men followed you?Ф
ДThey did,Ф Vicente said warmly, Дand Sergeant Macedo fought very bravely.Ф
ДI think,Ф Sharpe said, Дthat despite being a bloody lawyer youТre a remarkable bloody soldier.Ф
ДI am?Ф The young Portuguese sounded amazed, but Sharpe knew it must have taken a natural leader to bring men out of a tavern to ambush a party of dragoons.
СSo did all your philosophers and poets join the army?Ф Sharpe asked.
Vicente looked embarrassed. ДSome joined the French, alas.Ф
ДThe French!Ф
The Lieutenant shrugged. ДThere is a belief, senhor, that the future of mankind is prophesied in French thought. In French ideas. In Portugal, I think, we are old-fashioned and in response many of us are inspired by the French philosophers. They reject the church and the old ways. They dislike the monarchy and despise unearned privilege. Their ideas are very exciting. You have read them?Ф
ДNo,Ф Sharpe said.
ДBut I love my country more than I love Monsieur Rousseau,Ф Vicente said sadly, Дso I shall be a soldier before I am a poet.Ф
ДQuite right,Ф Sharpe said, Дbest choose something useful to do with your life.Ф They crossed a small rise in the ground and Sharpe saw the river ahead and a small village beside it and he checked Vicente with an upraised hand. ДIs that Barca dТAvintas?Ф