The anger was livid now. “Remember whipping me?”he asked. “Whipping me till the blood ran? I remember, Jem. That’s why I came back.”“Listen, lad.”“Don’t you bloody lad me,” Sharpe said. “I’m grown now, Jem. I’m a soldier, Jem, an officer, and I’ve learned to kill.”Richard—soldier, hero, rogue—the man you always want on your side. Born in poverty, he joined the army to escape jail and climbed the ranks by sheer brutal courage. He knows no other family than the regiment of the 95th Rifles, whose green jacket he proudly wears.
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