The Tippoo Sultan. The enemy. The tyrant of Mysore and the man who was presumably directing the gunfire on the ridge. The Tippoo ruled Mysore and he was the enemy, but what he was, or why he was an enemy, or whether he was a tyrant, beast or demigod, Sharpe had no idea. Sharpe was here because he was a soldier and it was sufficient that he had been told that the Tippoo Sultan was his enemy and so he waited patiently under the Indian sun that was soaking his lean tall body in sweat.

Captain Morris leaned on his saddle's pommel. He took off his cocked hat and wiped sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief that had been soaked in cologne water. He had been drunk the previous night and his stomach was still churning with pain and wind. If the battalion had not been going into battle he would have galloped away, found a private spot and voided his bowels, but he could hardly do that now in case his men thought it a sign of weakness and so he raised his canteen instead and swallowed' some arrack in the hope that the harsh spirit would calm the turmoil in his belly. 'Now, Sergeant! he called when the company in front had moved sufficiently far ahead.

'Forward half-company! Hakeswill shouted. 'Forward march! Smartly now!

Lieutenant Lawford, given supervision of the last half-company of the battalion, waited until Hakeswill's men had marched twenty paces, then nodded at Sergeant Green. 'Forward, Sergeant.

The redcoats inarched with unloaded muskets for the enemy was still a long way off and there was no sign of the Tippoo Sultan's infantry, nor of his feared cavalry. There were only the enemy's guns and, high in the fierce sky, the circling vultures. Sharpe was in the leading rank of the final half-company and Lieutenant Lawford, glancing at him, thought once again what a fine-looking man Sharpe was. There was a confidence in Sharpe's thin, sun-darkened face and hard blue eyes that spoke of an easy competence, and that appearance was a comfort to a young nervous lieutenant advancing towards his first battle. With men like Sharpe, Lawford thought, how could they lose?