A moment later and the cavalry was hidden behind millet fields. The Captain turned a last time and gazed again at the fortress on the soaring cliffs. It seemed to touch the sky, so high it stood above all India.

"Bastard of a place, " the Captain said wonderingly, then turned and left.

He had done his job, and now the infantry must climb to the clouds to do theirs.

Colonel William Dodd watched the blue-coated cavalrymen walk their tired horses southwards until they vanished beyond a field of standing millet. The sub adar in charge of the regiment's small cannon had wanted to unlimber and open fire on the horsemen, but Dodd had refused his permission. There would have been no point in attacking, for by the time the guns were loaded the cavalrymen would have walked out of range.

He watched a last salvo of round shot plummet to earth from the fort's high guns. Those cannon were of little use, Dodd thought, except to overawe people on the plain.

It took Dodd's regiment over seven hours to climb to the fort of Gawilghur, and by the time he reached the summit Dodd's lungs were burning, his muscles aching and his uniform soaked with sweat. He had walked every step of the way, refusing to ride his horse, for the beast was tired and, besides, if he expected his men to walk up the long road, then he would walk it as well. He was a tall, sallow-faced man with a harsh voice and an awkward manner, but William Dodd knew how to earn his men's admiration. They saw that he walked when he could have ridden, and so they did not complain as the steep climb sapped their breath and stole their strength. The regiment's families, its baggage and its battery of cannon were still far below on the twisting, treacherous track that, in its last few miles, was little more than a ledge hacked from the cliff.

Dodd formed his Cobras into four ranks as they approached Gawilghur's southern entrance where the great metal-studded gates were being swung open in welcome.

"March smartly now! " Dodd called to his men.

"You've nothing to be ashamed of! You lost no battle! " He pulled himself up into his saddle and drew his gold-hiked sword to salute the flag of Berar that flapped above the high gate-tower. Then he touched his heels to the mare's flanks and led his undefeated men into the tower's long entrance tunnel.

He emerged into the afternoon sun to find himself staring at a small town that was built within the stronghold's ramparts and on the summit of Gawilghur's promontory. The alleys of the town were crammed with soldiers, most of them Mahratta cavalrymen who had fled in front of the British pursuit, but, twisting in his saddle, Dodd saw some infantry of Gawilghur's garrison standing on the fire step He also saw Manu Bappoo who had out ridden the British pursuit and now gestured to Dodd from the gate-tower's turret.

Dodd told one of his men to hold his horse, then climbed the black walls to the top fire step of the tower where he stopped in awed astonishment at the view. It was like standing at the edge of the world.

The plain was so far beneath and the southern horizon so far away that there was nothing in front of his eyes but endless sky. This, Dodd thought, was a god's view of earth. The eagle's view. He leaned over the parapet and saw his guns struggling up the narrow road. They would not reach the fort till long after nightfall.

"You were right, Colonel, " Manu Bappoo said ruefully.

Dodd straightened to look at the Mahratta prince.

"It's dangerous to fight the British in open fields, " he said, 'but here.. ?" Dodd gestured at the approach road.

"Here they will die, sahib."

"The fort's main entrance, " Bappoo said in his sibilant voice, 'is on the other side. To the north."

Dodd turned and gazed across the roof of the central palace. He could see little of the great fortress's northern de fences though a long way away he could see another tower like the one on which he now stood.

"Is the main entrance as difficult to approach as this one?" he asked. I "No, but it isn't easy. The enemy has to approach along a narrow strip of rock, then fight through the Outer Fort. After that comes a ravine, and then the Inner Fort. I want you to guard the inner gate."

Dodd looked suspiciously at Bappoo.

"Not the Outer Fort?" Dodd reckoned his Cobras should guard the place where the British would attack. That way the British would be defeated.

"The Outer Fort is a trap, " Bappoo explained. He looked tired, but the defeat at Argaum had not destroyed his spirit, merely sharpened his appetite for revenge.

"If the British capture the Outer Fort they will think they have won. They won't know that an even worse barrier waits beyond the ravine. That barrier has to be held. I don't care if the Outer Fort falls, but we must hold the Inner. That means our best troops must be there."

"It will be held, " Dodd said.

Bappoo turned and stared southwards. Somewhere in the heat-hazed distance the British forces were readying to march on Gawilghur.

"I

thought we could stop them at Argaum, " he admitted softly.

Dodd, who had advised against fighting at Argaum, said nothing.

"But here, " Bappoo went on, 'they will be stopped."

Here, Dodd thought, they would have to be stopped. He had deserted from the East India Company's army because he faced trial and execution, but also because he believed he could make a fortune as a mercenary serving the Mahrattas. So far he had endured three defeats, and each time he had led his men safe out of the disaster, but from Gawilghur there would be no escape. The British would block every approach, so the British must be stopped. They must fail in this high place, and so they would, Dodd consoled himself. For nothing imaginable could take this fort. He was on the world's edge, lifted into the sky, and for the redcoats it would be like scaling the very heights of heaven.

So here, at last, deep inside India, the redcoats would be beaten.

Six. cavalrymen in the blue and yellow coats of the igth Light Dragoons waited outside the house where Captain Torrance was said to be billeted. They were under the command of a long-legged sergeant who was lounging on a bench beside the door. The Sergeant glanced up as Sharpe approached.

"I hope you don't want anything useful out of the bastards, " he said acidly, then saw that the shabby-uniformed Sharpe, despite wearing a pack like any common soldier, also had a sash and a sabre. He scrambled to his feet.

"Sorry, sir."

Sharpe waved him back down onto the bench.

"Useful?" he asked.

"Horseshoes, sir, that's all we bleeding want. Horseshoes! Supposed to be four thousand in store, but can they find them?" The Sergeant spat.

"Tells me they're lost! I'm to go to the bhinjarries and buy them!

I'm supposed to tell my captain that? So now we have to sit here till Captain Torrance gets back. Maybe he knows where they are. That monkey in there' he jerked his thumb at the house's front door' doesn know a bloody thing."

Sharpe pushed open the door to find himself in a large room where a half-dozen men argued with a harried clerk. The clerk, an Indian, sat behind a table covered with curling ledgers.

"Captain Torrance is ill!»

the clerk snapped at Sharpe without waiting to discover the newcomer's business.

"And take that dirty Arab boy outside, " the clerk added, jerking his chin at Ahmed who, armed with a musket he had taken from a corpse on the battlefield, had followed Sharpe into the house.

«Muskets!» A man tried to attract the clerk's attention.

«Horseshoes!» an East India Company lieutenant shouted.

«Buckets,» a gunner said.

"Come back tomorrow, " the clerk said.

"Tomorrow!»

"You said that yesterday, " the gunner said, 'and I'm back."

"Where's Captain Torrance?" Sharpe asked.