'To ground, man, McCandless said. The sudden freedom seemed to have lifted the Colonel's fever. 'We must find somewhere to hide.

Sharpe pushed the gate outwards, then saw Mary gazing at him from a doorway across the courtyard and he smiled, then saw she was not smiling back, but was instead looking terrified. There were men with her, and they too were unmoving with fear. Then Sharpe saw why.

Three jettis were crossing the courtyard towards the dungeon cage. Three monsters. Three men with bare oiled chests and muscles like tiger thews. One carried a coiled whip while the other two were armed with hugely long spears with which they had planned to subdue the tiger before opening the prisoners' cell. Sharpe swore. He dropped his coat and picklock.

'Can you lock us in again? McCandless asked.

'Those buggers are strong enough to tear the padlocks clean away, sir. We have to kill the bastards. Sharpe darted through the gate and ran to his right. "The jettis followed him, but more slowly. They were not fast men, though their massive strength gave them an easy confidence as they spread out into a line to trap Sharpe in a corner of the courtyard. 'Throw me a musket! Sharpe called to Mary. 'Quick, lass, quick!

Mary snatched a musket from one of Kunwar Singh's men and, before the astonished man could protest, she tossed it to Sharpe. He caught it, held it at his waist, but did not cock the weapon. Then he advanced on the middle jetti. The man had seen that the musket was uncocked and he smiled, anticipating an easy victory, then slashed out his whip so that its coiled end wound round Sharpe's throat. He tugged, planning to pull Sharpe off balance, but Sharpe was already running towards him, cheating the whip's tension, and the jetti had never faced a man as quick as Sharpe. Nor as lethal. The jetti was still recovering from his surprise when the muzzle of the musket rammed into his Adam's apple with the force of a sledgehammer. He choked, his eyes widened, then Sharpe kicked him in the crotch and the huge man staggered and collapsed. One big muscle-bound brute was down, gasping desperately for breath, but the long spears were turning towards Sharpe who, with the whip still trailing from his throat, turned fast to his right. He knocked the next jettfs spear aside with his musket barrel, then reversed the weapon and charged. The jetti abandoned his spear and reached for the musket, but Sharpe checked his rush so that the big man's hands closed on nothing, and then Sharpe swung the musket by its barrel so that its brass-bound butt slammed into the man's temple with the sound of an axe biting into soft wood.

Two of the bastards were down. The soldiers on the inner ramparts' battery were watching the fight, but not interfering. They were confused, for Kunwar Singh was standing right beside the fight and doing nothing, and his jewels made him appear a man of high authority, and so they followed his example and did not try to intervene. Some of the watching soldiers were even cheering, for, though the jettis were admired, they were also resented because they received privileges far above any ordinary soldier's expectations.

Lawford had moved to help Sharpe, but his uncle held him back. 'Let him be, Willie, McCandless said quietly. 'He's doing the Lord's work and I've rarely seen it done better.

The third jetti lumbered at Sharpe with his spear. He advanced warily, confused by the ease with which this foreign demon had downed his two companions.

Sharpe smiled at the third jetti, shouldered the musket, pulled back the cock, and fired.

The bullet drummed into ihejettfs chest, making all his huge muscles shudder with the force of its impact. The jetti slowed, then tried to charge again, but his knees gave way and he fell forward onto his face. He twitched, his hands scrabbled for an instant, then he was still. From the ramparts above the soldiers cheered.

Sharpe uncoiled the whip from his neck, picked up one of the clumsy spears, and finished off the two jettis who still lived. One had been stunned and the other was almost unable to breathe, and both now had their throats cut. From the windows of the low buildings around the courtyard men and women stared at Sharpe in shock.

'Don't just stand there! Sharpe snarled at Lawford. 'Sir, he added hastily.

Lawford and McCandless came through the gate, while Kunwar Singh, as if released from a spell, suddenly hurried to meet them. Mary crossed to Sharpe. 'Are you all right?

'Never better, lass, he said. In truth he was shaking as he picked up his red coat and as Kunwar Singh's six men stared at him as though he was a devil come from nightmare. Sharpe wiped sweat from his eyes. He was oblivious of most of what had just happened for he had fought as he had always fought, fast and with a lethal skill, but it was instinct that led him, not reason, and the fight had left him with a seething hate. He wanted to slake that hate by killing more men, and perhaps Kunwar Singh's soldiers picked up that ferocity, for none of them dared move.

Lawford crossed to Sharpe. 'We think the assault is about to come, Sharpe, the Lieutenant said, 'and Colonel McCandless is being taken to a place of safety. He's insisted that we go with him. The fellow in the jewels isn't happy about that, but McCandless won't go without us. And well done, by the way.

Sharpe glanced up into the Lieutenant's eyes. T'm not going with him, sir, I'm going to fight.

'Sharpe! Lawford reproved him.

'There's a bloody great mine, sir! Sharpe raised his voice angrily. 'Just waiting to kill our lads! I ain't letting that happen. You can do what you bloody well like, but I'm going to kill some more of these bastards. You can come with me, sir, or stay with the Colonel, I don't care. You, lad! This was to one of Kunwar Singh's uncomprehending soldiers. 'Give me some cartridges. Come on, hurry! Sharpe crossed to the man, pulled open his pouch and helped himself to a handful of cartridges that he shoved into a pocket. Kunwar Singh made no move to stop him. Indeed, everyone in the courtyard seemed to be stunned by the ferocity that had reduced three of the Tippoo's prized jettis to dead meat, though the officer commanding the troops on the inner wall did now call down to demand to know what was happening. Kunwar Singh shouted back that they were doing the Tippoo's bidding.

McCandless had overheard Sharpe talking to Lawford. 'If I can help, Private.. the Colonel said.

'You're weak, sir, begging your pardon, sir. But Mister Lawford will help me.

Lawford said nothing for a moment, then nodded. 'Yes, of course I will.

'What will you do? McCandless asked. He spoke to Sharpe, not Lawford.

'Blow the bloody mine, sir, blow it to kingdom come.

'God bless you, Sharpe. And keep you.

'Save your prayers for the bloody enemy, sir, Sharpe said curtly. He rammed a bullet home, then plunged into an alleyway that led southwards. He was loose in his enemy's rear, he was angry, and he was ready to give the bastards a taste of hell on earth.

Major General Baird hauled a huge watch from his fob pocket, sprang open the lid, and stared at the hands. One o'clock. On the fourth of May 1799. A Saturday. A drop of sweat landed on the watch crystal and he carefully wiped it away with a tassel of his red sash. His mother had made the sash. "You'll not let us down, young Davy, she had said sternly, giving him the strip of tasseEed silk and then saying no more as he had walked away to join the army. The sash was over twenty years old now, and it was frayed and threadbare, but Baird reckoned it would last him. He would take it back to Scotland one day.

It would be good, he thought, to go home and see the new century. Maybe the eighteen hundreds would bring a different world, even a better one, but he doubted that the new era would manage to dispense with soldiers. Till time ended, Baird suspected, there would be uses for a man and his sword. He took off his mildewed hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. Almost time.