Outside 95th's billet

Lt. Jaeger watched the tow officers with wide eyes. This was going to be an interesting meeting, not that that was any of his business. But he did have business with Lt. Sharpe, serious business, a matter of honour. He was determined to wait here until he had had a chance to speak to Mr. Sharpe.

Just as one was certain that all the officers had been in their various state of arrival - officers or those that would stand in their place representing them - came a rough looking man. He seemed not to have known that his horse had arrived, nor was he pleased with the idea that he should ride it. The way he looked he wasn't born a gentleman, for sure. He fitted the description perfectly of that Mr. Sharpe. Not that the merry exclamation of the other rifleman didn't give it away right from the start.

Stealing another glance at the man before he entered he was assured to remember that face, should he see it again.

"I am sure of it," Cadoux said. Long lashes veiled his eyes. "I believe you led them all the way to Lisbon - through Soult's own army! They must be very tough - although some of them seem barely out of the nursery."

"Carty?" Sharpe looked over his shoulder. "His brother lied to keep him with him, then we got cut off and I got stuck with him. I hope he didn't cause you any trouble."

"None at all - he was very keen to help." It would be interesting to see how older riflemen responded to Sharpe. Risen from the ranks, and a quartermaster - typical enough for an older lieutenant: had the rest of his remnant followed him into flight and battle willingly? And if he had their loyalty as he had the boy's, how would they react to the news that their leader now had a Captain over him again?

"The next few days are going to be very uncomfortable," he said in a soft voice. "But I suppose we must put up with it. Our ... do you call yourself a company, or a platoon?"

The little bastard was patronising him.... "We are a company, Captain. And it will only be uncomfortable if you make it so." Sharpe raised an eyebrow, wondering how the man would respond.

"<I>I</i> have no wish to be uncomfortable at all, Mr Sharpe." Although by the look of the weather through the open door, and the mountains they would be - but not as cold, and with good planning, they would not change from hunters to quarry, as they had done last year......

He cocked his head, watching Sharpe lazily. "Now you have a Captain again - and soon we will have everything, from Colonel to Regimental mascot."

"We have been pining without you, Captain," said Sharpe, his face perfectly impassive. "Who will be your mascot?"

"For our company? I rather like the idea of a cat ... although the hairs would get on one's uniform...." Cadoux stroked the sleeve of his tunic, which had dried after its wetting in the morning. "It is difficult to persuade one to march in step, too."

The Colonel had warned him, and Sharpe was going to be as difficult as his lordship had said. There would be a time to remind him of who was in charge, but for the moment he was prepared to wait for a genuine cause of conflict.

Sharpe stared at Cadoux in total disbelief, and Harper snickered behind him. He was suddenly aware that he hoped the man was mocking him - a new sensation - because if he was not, they were doomed. Utterly doomed. "Captain."

"They also dislike the rain," Cadoux concluded, satisfied at the look on Sharpe's face.

There was slightly less lisp as he asked: "As soon as your men are provisioned, I think we ensure that we are ready to move out. We have a lot of ground to make up, and I don't want to be the cause of further delay."

"The men are all coming in now, sir," Harper volunteered, curious as to how the Captain would treat an interruption. "We can be off in a twinkle."

Taller and broader than his lieutenant, and Irish like the young lad. Cadoux would not like to get on the wrong side of the Sergeant, but the comment was pertinent. "Thank you, Sergeant," he said quickly, and then smiled briefly. "If you parade them, I will come and be inspected by the men - then they will know who I am."

"Yes, sir," said Harper, turning around and marching swiftly from the building.

"I assume you and Captain Vickery have an understanding about the posting of the front and flank guards ... Except that we want them at full strength - there might be opposition, even if the main body of the French have left - I am sure those arrangements will be satisfactory." Cadoux decided that he would take a day to inspect things - but Vickery at least was an experienced officer, and Edrington thought well of his riflemen. He stifled a grin and said: "Your Sergeant - he seems very keen and efficient."

"He is, Captain," said Sharpe. He had had his own problems with Harper at the beginning, and he wondered how much of that Cadoux knew. "The men looks up to him as well; he's a natural leader."

That was what he had thought: the Sergeant would provide the knowledge and probably the skills, and the support Sharpe would have needed. Even if Sharpe had little experience as an officer, though, he had a high opinion of his own abilities, Cadoux judged, and he would not be pushed around by a younger, softer officer, who just happened to be senior to him.

"That must have been a great help to you. It can't have been easy bringing them south like that - the weather was quite horrendous. Or so I believe." Cadoux added the rider, seeing the glint in the other man's eyes at the reference.

"You were not on the retreat? Captain?" Sharpe said, looking down at the younger man.

Cadoux met the glare. "I was with the Light Brigade - I don't even want to think about it! At least you avoided the sea journey - it was quite horrific."

Jaeger bit his tonge and tried to make himself insvisible. While the 5/60th had fought at Rolica and Vimiero the year before, on Moore's fateful Spanish expedition they had only made it to Salamanca, and had then been send back with the baggage and the wounded in ignominy.

Sharpe bit his tongue. "Is that so, Captain? It must have been frightful." It took every ounce of his will not to say fwightful; as a result he rolled the 'r' in a way that was just as offensive.

"Oh, it was, Mr Sharpe. You will no hear about it when the rest of the regiment arrives ... those who made it home. We lost a lot of men, Sharpe, and the 1st battalion even more ... Although they will be glad to learn that not all our losses are dead."

"On the sea voyage?" asked Sharpe, shocked out of his hostility. "Did one of the ships sink or somethin'?"

"Some ran aground at Spithead - but by then, we were past caring. If the ship had sunk it would have been a relief..." Cadoux thought of the dead - men and women, falling out on the march, and dying of cold, hunger and exhaustion, beyond any encouragement or even threats. But Sharpe had marched across the same mountains, in the same weather. He would know about that.

Sharpe relaxed a little, shifting on his feet. "Aye, it was a damned thing from the start," he said, like an offering.