bcornwell.sharpescompany-第52节

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　The　hat　was　still　in　the　cot　and　Hakeswill　regretted　it　because　he　would　like　his　mother；　whose　likeness　was　in　the　crown；　to　see　this；　but　it　could　not　be　helped。　He　walked　slowly　towards　Teresa；　who　backed　away；　back　towards　the　bed　where　her　rifle　was　laid；　and　he　grinned　at　her；　twitched；　and　the　triumph　was　in　his　voice。　'Just　you　and　me；　missy。　Just　you　and　Obadiah。'
　
　CHAPTER　29
　
　'Which　way？'
　
　'God　knows！'　Sharpe　searched　frantically　for　a　main　street。　The　central　breach　faced　a　tangle　of　alleys。　He　chose　an　opening　at　random　and　started　running。　'This　way！'
　
　There　were　screams　ahead；　shots；　and　bodies　lying　in　the　alleyway。　It　was　too　dark　to　tell　if　the　corpses　were　French　or　Spanish。　The　alley　stank　of　blood；　death；　and　the　night　soil　thrown　earlier　from　the　upper　windows；　and　the　two　men　slipped　in　their　haste。　Light　came　from　a　cross…alley　and　Sharpe　turned　instinctively；　still　running；　with　a　huge　bloodied　sword　held　like　a　lance。
　
　A　door　opened　ahead　and　spilt　men　into　the　alley；　blocking　it；　and　after　them　came　wine　barrels；　huge　tins；　that　they　hammered　with　their　musket…butts　until　the　staves　burst　and　the　wine　cascaded　on　to　the　cobbles。　The　men　dropped；　put　mouths　to　the　gushing　liquid；　scooped　at　it；　and　Sharpe　and　Harper　kicked　them　aside；　pushed　past；　and　came　out　into　the　small　plaza。　One　house　burned；　throwing　the　light　that　had　attracted　them；　and　in　the　blaze　they　could　see　a　mediaeval　depiction　of　hell。　The　people　of　Badajoz　suffered　the　torments　of　red…jacketed　devils。　A　naked　woman　wandered；　sobbing　and　bloodied；　in　the　plaza's　centre。　She　was　too　hurt　to　feel　any　more；　too　abused　to　care；　and　when　new　men；　fresh　from　the　breach；　grabbed　her　and　threw　her　down　she　made　no　protest；　but　sobbed　on；　and　all　around　it　was　the　same。　Some　women　struggled；　some　had　died；　others　had　watched　their　children　die；　and　around　them　the　victors　capered；　half　dressed；　half　drunk；　lit　by　the　fire　and　festooned　with　their　loot。
　
　Some　of　the　devils　fought；　squabbling　over　women　or　wine；　and　Sharpe　saw　two　Portuguese　soldiers　bayonet　a　British　Sergeant；　seize　the　woman　beneath　him；　and　drag　her　into　a　house。　Her　child；　screaming　hysterically；　toddled　after；　but　the　door　was　slammed　and　the　child　left。　Harper's　face　showed　a　terrible　fury。　He　kicked　the　door；　bursting　it　open；　and　plunged　into　the　house。　A　shot　was　fired；　splintering　the　lintel；　and　then　the　Portuguese　came　out；　one　after　the　other；　thrown　with　a　bone…crunching　force　and　the　Irishman　picked　up　the　child；　handed　it　in；　and　shut　the　door　as　best　he　could。　He　shrugged　at　Sharpe。　'Others　will　get　her。'
　
　Which　way？　Two　roads　led　uphill；　the　larger　to　the　left；　and　Sharpe　took　it；　pushing　through　the　riot；　the　scenes　from　hell。　Once；　inexplicably；　the　pavement　seemed　to　be　running　with　silver　coins　that　no　one　touched。　One　by　one　the　doors　were　shot　open；　the　houses　ripped　apart；　a　whole　city　at　an　army's　mercy；　and　the　army　had　little。　A　few　men　showed　decency；　protecting　a　woman　or　a　family；　but　the　decent　men　were　too　often　shot　down。　Officers　who　tried　to　stop　the　carnage　were　shot；　discipline　was　dead；　the　mob　ruled　Badajoz。
　
　Screams　deafened　the　two　men；　and　they　were　thrown　back　on　to　a　wall　by　a　horde　of　women；　stark　naked；　who；　slobbering　and　spitting；　had　erupted　from　an　unbarred　door。　A　nun　screamed　at　them　from　the　doorway；　but　more　women　came　from　inside　and　Sharpe　knew　a　madhouse　was　emptying　itself　into　the　streets。　There　was　no　point　in　locking　up　the　mad　in　Badajoz　this　night　and　there　were　whoops　from　behind　and　cheers　as　the　soldiers　charged　up　and　into　the　lunatics。　One　pulled　at　the　nun；　while　another　leaped　on　to　a　huge；　naked　woman's　back；　gripped　her　wild；　grey　hair　as　reins；　and　all　the　soldiers　tried　to　ride　a　lunatic。
　
　'There；　sir！'　Harper　pointed。　Above　them　and　ahead　was　the　cathedral　tower；　its　square；　crenellated　outline　obvious　in　the　sky；　and　from　its　arched　openings　the　bells　jangled　a　cacophony　because　drunken　men　were　dangling　on　the　ropes；　signaling　a　victory。
　
　They　stopped　at　the　street's　end；　in　front　of　the　cathedral；　and　to　their　left　was　a　great　plaza；　the　rape　beneath　its　trees　lit　by　a　huge　fire；　and　to　their　right　a　dark　alley。　Sharpe　started　towards　it；　but　his　arm　was　pulled；　and　he　turned　to　see　a　girl；　short　and　weeping；　clinging　to　his　sleeve。　She　had　been　roused　from　a　house；　chased；　and　her　pursuers　came　after　as　she　held　on　to　the　tall　man　whose　face　had　looked　untouched　by　the　madness。　'Senor！　Senor！'
　
　Her　tormentors；　in　the　white　facings　of　the　43rd；　reached　for　the　girl　and　Sharpe　swept　the　sword　at　them；　cutting　one　man's　arm；　and　he　watched　their　bayonets　drop　for　the　attack　and　the　girl　was　hampering　him。　He　swung　again；　being　forced　back　by　British　bayonets；　but　then　Harper　came　between　him　and　his　attackers；　the　seven…barreled　gun　whirled　as　a　club；　and　they　went　back。
　
　'This　way！'　Sharpe　shouted　and；　with　the　girl　still　clinging　to　him；　he　pushed　into　the　alley。　Harper　came　behind；　threatening　the　men　of　the　43rd　with　the　giant　gun　until　they　gave　up　and　went　for　easier　spoils；　and　then　the　Sergeant　turned　after　Sharpe　to　find　the　alley　was　a　dead　end。　Sharpe　swore。
　
　Harper　seized　the　girl；　who　shrank　away；　but　his　touch　was　gentle　and　his　voice　urgent。　'Donde　esta　la　Casa　Moreno？'　It　was　the　limit　of　his　Spanish；　and　the　girl　shook　her　head。　He　tried　again；　letting　his　voice　reassure　her。　'Listen；　Miss。　Casa　Moreno。　prendo？　Donde　esta　la　Casa　Moreno？'
　
　She　spoke　in　fast；　excited　Spanish；　and　pointed　to　the　cathedral。　Sharpe　swore　again　in　exasperation。　'She　doesn't　know。　We'll　go　back。'　He　started　forward；　but　Harper　put　out　a　hand。
　
　'No；　look！'　There　were　steps　leading　to　a　side…door　and　the　Irishman　pushed　Sharpe　towards　it。　'She　means　through　the　cathedral。　It's　a　short　cut！'
　
　The　girl　stumbled　on　her　dress；　but　Harper　caught　her　and　she　clung　to　his　hand　as　he　pushed　open　the　huge；　studded　door。　Sharpe　heard　the　Irishman　draw　in　a　breath。
　
　The　cathedral　had　been　a　refuge；　a　sanctuary；　but　no　longer。　Troops　had　invaded　it；　had　chased　the　women；　caught　them；　and　now；　under　the　myriad　votive　candles；　the　women　were　being　raped。　A　nun；　her　habit　ripped　apart；　was　spread…eagled　on　the　high　altar　while　an　Irishman　of　the　88th；　down　from　the　casde　assault；　tried　vainly　to　climb　up　to　her。　He　was　too　drunk。　The　girl　gasped；　began　to　scream；　but　Harper　held　her　firm。　'Casa　Moreno？　Si？'
　
　She　nodded；　too　appalled　to　speak；　and　led　them　across　the　great　floor　of　the　transept；　between　the　altar　and　the　transcoro；　and　round　the　huge　chandelier　that　had　been　cut　from　its　moorings　and　had　crashed　down　on　to　the　flagstones；　crushing　a　Corporal　from　the　7th　who　still　twitched　under　its　weight。　Dead　lay　on　the　floor　while　the　wounded；　sobbing　in　their　misery；　crawled　towards　the　obscuring　shadows　of　the　nave。　Be　with　us　now　and　in　the　hour　of　our　need。
　
　A　priest；　who　had　tried　to　stop　the　soldiers；　lay　by　the　north　door　and　Sharpe　and　Harper　stepped　over　the　body；　into　the　great　plaza；　and　the　girl　pointed　again；　to　her　right；　and　they　ran　until　she　pulled　Harper　right　again；　into　a　dark　alleyway　seething　with　troops　who　beat　at　shut　doors　and；　in　their　frustration；　fired　shots　at　upper；　barred　windows。　Harper　protected　the　girl；　held　her　close；　as　they　pushed　through　the　men；　Sharpe's　sword　their　passport；　and　then　the　girl　shouted　at　them；　pointed；　and　Sharpe　saw　the　dark　shapes　of　two　trees　and　knew　he　had　arrived。
　
　There　were　cheers　from　the　doorway；　a　creaking；　a　great　crash；　and　a　mass　of　men　in　front　of　them　melted　away　as　they　streamed　into　Moreno's　courtyard。　Barrels　waited　for　them；　thick　barrels；　full　barrels；　and　the　men　fell　on　the　wine；　forgetting　everything　else；　and　in　his　counting　house；　praying　next　to　his　wife　who　had　returned　home　at　midnight；　Rafael　Moreno　prayed　and　hoped　he　had　provided　enough　wine　for　the　soldiers　and　thick　enough　bolts　for　his　counting　house　door。
　
　Hakeswill　cursed。　He　heard　the　motion　below；　the　crashing　of　the　great　doors；　and　he　spat　at　Teresa。　'Hurry！'
　
　A　bullet　splintered　the　shutter　and　buried　itself　in　the　ceiling　and　he　turned；　fearing　Sharpe；　but　it　was　only　a　stray　shot　from　the　street。　The　baby　was　awkward　in　his　arm；　but　it　was　his　best　threat　and　he　did　not　want　to　kill　it　yet。　The　bayonet　was　still　at　Antonia's　throat；　her　crying　reduced　to　heaving；　breathless　sobs；　and　Hakeswill　twitched　the　blade；　ground　his　teeth　as　the　twitching　caught　him；　and　bellowed　again。　'Hurry！'
　
　She　was　still　dressed；　damn　her；　and　he　wanted　this　business　done！　Two　shoes　off；　that　was　all；　and　he　twitched　the　bayonet　again；　drawing　a　trickle　of　blood；　and　he　saw　her　arms　go　up　to　the　fastening　of　her　dress。　'That's　right；　missy；　don't　want　baby　to　die；　do　we？'　He　cackled；　and　the　cackling　became　a　racking　cough；　and　Teresa　watched　the　blade　at　her　child's　throat。　She　dared　not　attack　him；　dared　not；　and　then　the　coughing　stopped　and　the　eyes　opened　again。　'Get　on　with　it；　missy。　We've　got　time　to　make　up；　remember？'
　
　Teresa　slowly　undid　the　knot　at　her　throat；　pretending　to　fumble　with　the　material；　and　she　saw　the　excitement　in　his　face　and　th