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ah Rao's household。 'Just keep us alive；' he prayed to the god； 'just keep us alive。'
The Tippoo himself came to the courtyard where the tigers had been restored to their long chains。 Four infantrymen guarded the two Englishmen。 The Tippoo did not e in state； with chamberlains and courtiers； but was acpanied by only one officer and two jettis who watched impassively as the Tippoo strode to Sharpe and tugged the medallion from around his neck。 He pulled so hard that the chain cut into the back of Sharpe's neck before it snapped。 Then the Tippoo spat into Sharpe's face and turned away。
The officer was a suave young Muslim who spoke good English。 'His Majesty；' he said when the Tippoo turned back to face the prisoners； 'wishes to know why you came to the city。'
Lawford stiffened。 'I am an officer in His BritannicMajesty's 。。。' he began； but the Indian cut him off with a gesture。
'Quiet！' the officer said wearily。 'You are nothing except what we make you。 So why are you here？'
'Why do you think？' Sharpe said。
The officer looked at him。 'I think；' he said judiciously； 'that you came here to spy。'
'So now you know；' Sharpe said defiantly。
The officer smiled。 'But maybe you were given the name of a man who might help you inside the city？ That is the name we want。'
Sharpe shook his head。 'Didn't give us any names。 Not one。'
'Maybe；' the officer said； then nodded at the two jettis who seized hold of Sharpe； then ripped the coat down his back so that its buttons tore off one by one as it was dragged down。 He wore no shirt beneath； only the bandages that still covered the wounds caused by his flogging。 One of the jettis drew a knife and unceremoniously sliced through the bandages； making Sharpe flinch as the blade cut into the almost healed wounds。 The bandages were tossed aside； and the smell of them made one of the tigers stir。 The other jetti had crossed to the four soldiers where he had drawn out one of their muskets' ramrods。 Now he stood behind Sharpe and； when the Tippoo nodded； he gave Sharpe's back a vicious cut with the metal rod。
The sudden pain was every bit as bad as the flogging。 It stabbed up and down Sharpe's spine and he gasped with the effort not to scream aloud as the force of the blow threw him forwards。 He broke his fall with his hands and now his back faced the sky and the jetti； slashed down three more times； opening the old wounds； cracking a rib and spurting blood onto the courtyard's sand。 One of the tigers growled and the links of its chain jangled as the beast lunged towards the smell of fresh blood。 'We shall beat him until we have the name；'the officer told Lawford mildly； 'and when he is dead we shall beat you until you are dead。'
The jetti struck down again； and this time Sharpe rolled onto his side； but the second jetti pushed him back onto his belly。 Sharpe was grunting and panting； but was determined not to cry aloud。
'You can't do this！' Lawford protested。
'Of course we can！' the officer answered。 'We shall start splintering his bones now； but not his spine； not yet。 We want the pain to go on。' He nodded； and the jetti slashed down again and this time Sharpe did cry aloud as the stab of pain brought back all the agony of the flogging。
'A merchant！' Lawford blurted out。
The officer held up his hand to stop the beating。 'A merchant； Lieutenant？ The city is full of merchants。'
'He deals in metals；' Lawford said。 'I don't know more than that。'
'Of course you do；' the officer said； then nodded at the jetti who raised the ramrod high in the air。
'Ravi Shekhar！' Lawford shouted。 The Lieutenant was bitterly ashamed for giving the name away； and the shame was obvious on his face； but nor could Lawford stand by and watch Sharpe beaten to death。 He believed； or he wanted to believe； that he could have endured the pain of the beating himself without betraying the name； but it was more than he could bear to watch another man pounded into a bloody pulp。
'Ravi Shekhar；' the officer said； checking thejettfs stroke。 'And how did you find him？'
'We didn't；' Lawford said。 'We didn't know how！ We were waiting till we spoke some of your language； then we were going to ask for him about the city； but we haven't tried yet。'
Sharpe groaned。 Blood trickled down his sides and dripped onto the stones。 One of the tigers staled beside the wall and the smell of urine filled the courtyard with its thin sour stench。The officer； who was wearing one of the prized gold tiger medallions about his neck； talked with the Tippoo who stared dispassionately at Sharpe； then asked a question。
'And what； Lieutenant；' the officer translated； 'would you have told Ravi Shekhar？'
'Everything we'd discovered about the defences；' Lawford said miserably。 'That's why we were sent。'
'And what did you discover？'
'How many men you have； how many guns； how many rockets。'
'That's all？'
'It's enough； isn't it？' Lawford retorted。
The officer translated the answers。 The Tippoo shrugged； glanced at Lawford； then took a small brown leather bag from inside a pocket of his yellow silk tunic。 He unlaced the bag's mouth； stepped to Sharpe's side； then trickled salt onto the beaten man's open wounds。 Sharpe hissed with the pain。
'Who else would you have told in the city？' the officer asked。
'There was no one else！' Lawford pleaded。 'In the name of God； there was no one else。 We were told Ravi Shekhar could get a message out。 That was all！'
The Tippoo believed him。 Lawford's chagrin was so clear and his shame so palpable that he was utterly believable。 Besides； the story made sense。 'And so you've never seen Ravi Shekhar？' the officer asked。
'Never。'
'You're looking at him now；' the officer said； gesturing at the tigers。 'His body was fed to the tigers weeks ago。'
'Oh； God；' Lawford said； and he closed his eyes as he realized just what an utter failure he had been。 For a moment he wanted to retch； then he controlled the impulse and opened his eyes to watch as the Tippoo picked up Sharpe's red coat and dropped it onto the bloody back。
For a second the Tippoo hesitated； wondering whether torelease the tigers onto the two men。 Then he turned away。 'Take them to the cells；' he ordered。
The sacrifice of prisoners had yielded up the traitors and turned the Tippoo's luck。 There was no need for a further sacrifice； not yet； but the Tippoo knew that fortune was ever capricious and so the prisoners could wait until another sacrifice was needed and then； to guarantee victory or to stave off defeat； they would die。 And till then； the Tippoo decided； they could just rot。
CHAPTER 9
The dungeons lay in one of the palace's northern courtyards； hard under the city's inner mud wall。 The courtyard stank of sewage； the smell powerful enough to make Sharpe half retch as he staggered beside Lawford at the point of a bayonet。 The courtyard was a busy place。 The families of the palace servants lived in low thatched buildings surrounding the yard where their lives were spent cheek by jowl with the Tippoo's stables and the small enclosure where he kept eight cheetahs he used for hunting gazelles。 The cheetahs were taken to the hunt in wheeled cages and at first Sh