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SHARPE’S MISSION
Richard Sharpe and the Battle of the Nive
Screenplay Written by Eoghan Harris and Bernard Cornwell.
Novel Adapted by Paul Kaster
PART ONE
1813 November
SAINT-PEE-SUR-NIVELLE
Chapter 6
The next morning at the gypsy camp, two provosts troopers stand adjacent to Harris. Their captain stands away from them. He holds a pad and writes notes with a pencil.
Sharpe was woken by Harper earlier than he had planned to wake. Harper mentioned that he was urgently requested to meet with the provosts. He left in a hurry. As he approaches the gypsy camp to review the scene at their caravan, he is still pulling on his jacket.
Before he talks to anyone, he pauses to look at all the details in front of him. He then scratches his head. He notices the unopened bottle of wine, the spilled chicken and the vomit outside the caravan. He pokes his head inside to see the bodies of three gypsies – two women and one man. With the way the bodies lie, they appear to have been stunned first, and then strangled. Someone would have to have been very fast to overcome the man and then two women without any one raising an alarm.
Outside the caravan, he pauses to assess what he has seen so far. Colonel Brand had been standing several paces away from the provosts. Sharpe finds it strange that Brand is here. While he will lead the mission, he has no chain of command responsibility for the Prince of Wales Own.
As Sharpe approaches Brand, Sharpe notes that Brand wears his red, not blue, uniform coat. Is he here officially? If not, then why is he here?
Without greeting Sharpe, Brand offers. “Garrote.”
Sharpe turns to him. “Garrote, sir?”
“The gypsies were killed by garrote. The Portuguese use it a lot.”
Brand looks to Harris.
“Your fellow Harris probably saw them use it when he was in Lisbon.”
He turns back to the caravan and folds his arms over his chest. He avoids looking at Sharpe.
Sharpe is incredulous that Harris is being accused. He stares at Brand.
“You think Harris could have done this, sir? You saw his behaviour at dinner last night.”
Brand turns to Sharpe.
“Well, it seems he was fond of one of the gypsies.”
“He probably tried to make love to her.”
“The others came along and he killed them all.”
Sharpe ponders this. Quickly he turns to Harris then back. What is he missing?
He starts to pace, then questions all gathered.
“Who reported this murder?”
Harris turns to him.
“I did, sir.”
Sharpe walks to the provost captain who has been standing holding his hat. Sharpe is disappointed that the captain has not introduced himself nor shared anything that he has learned since arriving. Brand walks with Sharpe but stands to the side between the two officers.
Sharpe addresses the captain icily. “Captain, I am Major Sharpe of the Prince of Wales Own Volunteers. You hold one of my men. What are the charges?”
“Murder, sir. Of three gypsies.”
Sharpe quickly tries to put the pieces together
To the captain, he recounts the story as he sees it from his observations. “So Harris goes to her caravan in the dead of night, brings them wine and food, does not eat or drink with them.”
Over his shoulder he says, “Food from our dinner, Colonel.”
Back to the captain, he continues, “Because they are sleeping, he drops the food,
chokes her and her family to death.
Throws up.
Then, calls in the provosts.”
“How does that sound to you, Captain?” The provost says nothing.
Sharpe turns to Brand and snaps.
“Make sense to you, SIR?”
The provost turns to hear Brand.
Sharpe turns back to watch the provost react.
Brand is slow to respond before he replies, “It seems you may have been a bit hasty, Provost Marshal.”
The provost turns from Brand, to Sharpe and then to his troopers. Without a word, he motions with his head for the troopers to stand guard at the caravan.
Harris now stands alone, frowns and looks to Sharpe and Brand.
“Thank you, sir.”
The provost at last talks. To Sharpe he says,
“Major Sharpe, I will have to arrange a Court of Inquiry, possibly a Court Martial. Touch nothing here until we finish.”
“In the meantime, this man will be confined to camp and will be in your care.”
The provost turns and leaves to report to his commander.
Sharpe watches the captain leave. Brand steps up to Sharpe. His arms have remained over his chest the whole time.
Sharpe thanks Brand. “Good of you to go out on a limb like that, sir.”
“Forget it.” Brand unfolds his arms to let them hand at his side.
“Just as Pycroft will have to forget his poor gypsy girl.”
Sharpe turns his head to Brand. He is startled. He thinks about this connection at dinner to Brand’s reaction about gypsies.
“What gypsy girl was that, sir?”
Brand turns to him. Without emotion he replies, “Wasn’t Pycroft’s gypsy girl murdered last night?”
Sharpe looks puzzled at this. He exhales suddenly as he thinks. He turns from Brand, then to his feet and back to Harris.
“What makes you think that, sir?”
“I thought she was staying here with the others.”
Sharpe continues to wonder why Brand is connecting the gypsy murder to Pycroft.
“No sir.”
He turns away from Brand to look in the direction of Pycroft’s camp.
“She was staying with Pycroft last night, sir.”
Brand looks in the same direction.
Sharpe looks to Brand and wonders what is the connection.
“Lucky for her.” Brand says flatly, almost with disappointment.
Sharpe slowly exhales and turns away from Brand.
Brand returns from his thoughts to Sharpe.
“So Pycroft got himself a gypsy.”
Sharpe snorts as he turns to Brand and back.
“Who else would have him, eh?” Brand smirks.
Sharpe looks astonished at Brand after that comment.
“I’ll be on my way, Sharpe. Call on my assistance anytime.”
Brand walks away looking at Sharpe as he goes.
“Thank you, sir.”
Brand strolls to his camp leaving Sharpe to deal with the murders.
Sharpe turns his attention to Harris. He walks slowly to stand in front of him. Harris stands at attention.
“You’re in big bloody trouble ‘arris.” Sharpe says sternly.
“I know, sir. Prima face doesn’t look good, sir.”
“Prima face? What do you mean ‘Prima face’?”
Harris senses that Sharpe is less formal. He turns to Sharpe to explain.
“Latin, sir. Prima face. At first sight…”
“Oh, shut up ‘arris.” Sharpe spits out.
Harris returns to attention.
“What ‘ave you got to say for yourself?”
“Nil desporandum, sir. Never say die.” Harris again turns to Sharpe
“’arris. Until this matter is resolved, you’re my responsibility.
Sharpe quickly has thought of a way to accomplish keeping Harris out of trouble and to ease his concern about Shellington with Jane.
“While I am away on this mission, you will act as manservant to my wife?”
“You’re letting a suspected murderer look after you wife, sir?”
“’arris, I am posting you to my household as I would post you to a position on a battlefield.”
Harris nods his head in understanding. He smiles, snaps to attention and salutes Sharpe.
Sharpe nods then walks away.
Harris turns crisply and follows Sharpe
Brand returned to his camp after leaving Sharpe. He has his men practicing with swords. Pope is paired with Brand. Pope has parried all of Brand’s attacks, so far. They separate. Brand smiles as he contemplates which attack he can try to get past Pope’s defense.
Behind them, William Craig, Brand’s second-in-command fights with another soldier. He clearly is the better swordsman. He drives the other back repeatedly.
Brand resumes his attacks on Pope. Pope offers good defenses, but Brand’s new attacks open Pope so that Brand is able to strike with the flat of his blade on Pope’s chest. Pope looks down at the spot while Brand backs away and grins.
They circle each other briefly before Brand launches a new attack. As Brand launches overhand attacks, Pope finds a hole in his thrusts and slips his sword under the next attack to point at Brand’s throat. They again pause as it is Pope’s turn to grin.
Before they may start again, they hear a call from the edge of the camp. Shellington walks towards them. He carries a portfolio under his arm. He is dressed in the white pants, waistcoat and neckcloth that he wore at the dinner. But, over it, he wears a blue jacket.
Pope notices that Brand is wearing a ring shaped as a snake wound around his finger.
“Sir, the ring. The ring.” He subtly calls to Brand
Brand looks at his right hand. Then surreptitiously he removes the ring and places it in his pants pocket before Shellington reaches him.
Shellington offers his hand to Brand. Then, he steps back and assesses Brand’s attire. “This won’t do. This won’t do at all.”
Brand is dressed in a white silk shirt, his trousers and boots only. He looks at himself, then at Shellington.
“You must don a most heroic uniform and then sit astride a most heroic horse. The readers of the Times pay two pennies for my paper sir and they expect to see the sublime.” He looks to Brand pleading with his eyes.
Brand turns to Pope, as does Shellington. Pope understands that the training is over.
“Don’t worry Shellington. I’ll give your readers their money’s worth.”
“I shall look forward to being able to write your story. Brand turns and walks away towards his tent.
Sharpe walks towards the camp that Pycroft has set up. He approaches with solid strides. Without announcing that he will enter, he pulls the flap open and sticks his head in.
He is greeted by the sound of a pistol being cocked.
“Put it away, Pycroft.”
He sees Pycroft sitting with his gypsy girl cowering behind him. Then he backs out of the tent.
Pycroft releases the pistol’s hammer, rises and follows Sharpe out of the tent.
Sharpe and Pycroft walk towards a pair of stools that face a fire pit.
“Sit down.”
Pycroft lowers the pistol and sits on a stool. Sharpe joins him on the other stool.
A kettle of water steams over the fire.
“I want you to put your mind to this Pycroft.” Sharpe rubs his hands at the fire.
He does not look directly at Pycroft, but looks to the fire and back to Pycroft’s direction.
“Last night, someone came into the camp and killed three gypsies.”
Now he turns to Pycroft.
“A man and two women. No apparent reason.”
“Zara told me that the men who killed her mother and father spoke English. She heard them shouting.”
“And, she’s seen her parents horse in THIS camp.”
Sharpe touches his chin as he ponders what he is hearing.
“They cut a ring from her mother’s finger. It is shaped like a snake. She made a drawing of it for me.:” Pycroft pulls a folded paper from his jacket to give to Sharpe.
Sharpe takes the paper and opens it. Sharpe stares at the drawing.
“When they discover their mistake, they will come for Zara.”
Sharpe understands that Pycroft is concerned.
“They may already have tried to kill her. You can’t take Zara with you on this mission Pycroft.” He turns to Pycroft.
Pycroft lowers his head.
Sharpe weighs the options they have. “She can stay with Isabella Harper.”
“She’ll be safe there. Isabella will keep her away from any others that may reveal that she is there.”
“Much obliged, Sharpe.”
Sharpe nods to Pycroft then stands to go.
Shellington had set up his easel while Brand changed into his finest. He stands in front of his easel and sketches Brand outside Brand’s tent.
Brand is attired in his full dress uniform of the 3rd Dragoon Guards Cavalry Regiment. His jacket has white facings. The epaulets and right shoulder cord are gold lace. His polished brass helmet is on his head. The brass and gold sparkle in the occasional sunlight. The blue jacket is buttoned to his chin. The white breeches show not a stain. The black boots gleam from the polish. He sits on a white mare. He holds his sword at salute in his right hand.
As Sharpe walks from Pycroft’s camp to his own, he passes Brand’s camp. He stops to watch as Shellington sketches.
After pausing for some time, he resumes walking.
Sharpe strides between the tents. He spies Nairn and picks up his pace to overtake him.
As Sharpe approaches, Nairn hears footsteps behind and turns. Nairn holds the bridle and saddlebags for his horse in his hands.
“Sharpe.” Sharpe walks adjacent to him.
“I’m concerned about this mission, sir.”
“Having to blow a French powder magazine is reasonable cause for concern, Sharpe.”
“It’s not that, sir.”
“What?” Nairn turns towards Sharpe.
“It’s the man leading the mission that concerns me, sir.”
Nairn stops. They face each other.
“You agreed to be second-in-command. Are you questioning his Lordship’s orders.”
“No, sir!”
Nairn cuts him off. “Go back and prepare your men, Sharpe.”
“Leave the thinking to me.” He stares at Sharpe to make him understand that there may be more to Sharpe’s orders than is obvious.
Sharpe shakes his head slowly, then meekly, “Yes, sir.”
Nairn nods to Sharpe then continues towards his horse.
Sharpe walks away towards his men’s camp. He turns back to look at Nairn. He has considered to raise his concern further, but Nairn has gone.
Before he goes to the Prince of Wales Own, he goes to find Pycroft’s gypsy. At Pycroft’s tent, he stops to talk with the sentry. Harry Price had sent one of his men.
“Hello Major.”
“Has anyone else come here, private?”
“Private Dunne, sir. No, only Major Pycroft and you have been here.”
“Private Dunne. Carry on.”
Sharpe enters the tent.
Zara sits alone on a blanket in the center of the space.
“Hello miss. Don’t get up.”
Sharpe crouches to be closer to her when he speaks. He wants to keep their voices low.
“May we discuss what happened to you and your parents?”
Zara nods.
“You told Pycroft that the men who killed your mother are in this camp.”
She nods again.
“You say they spoke English. Are you sure it was English? Not French or Spanish?”
“Yes, I am sure they spoke English. I know the difference. I could hear them from my hiding place."
He pulls the paper that Pycroft gave to him. “And they took your mother’s ring. Does it look like this?”
Zara nods.
“And, have you seen any of your parent’s property since they were killed?”
“Yes, I saw our white horse.”
“Where did you see the horse?”
“It came into this camp with Colonel Brand’s men.”
Sharpe pauses to think about what Zara has told him. He has no more questions.
“I believe you that the men you saw are here. You may be in danger. Pyrcroft and I will leave soon. Pycroft wants you to go with us. I prefer that you stay here with Sergeant Harper’s wife.”
“I have a plan for you that will keep you safe. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, major.”
Sharpe explains his plan.
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