| Spain
                        1813 Aided
                      by Ducos, Napoleon is considering a plan.  All it
                      will take is one death and one imprisonment, and Britain
                      will leave Spain.  The Spanish nobility, generals
                      and church will have to be in agreement and bring pressure
                      on the deposed King of Spain to sign a treaty with France.
 In a French garrison in Spain, Ducos has impounded the
                      carriages of La Marquesa Helene Mendora.  La Marquesa is half-English, half-French and married to
a Spanish General.  She is also a French spy.  Ducos promises the return
of her carriages if she writes to her husband saying Richard Sharpe has forced
his attentions on her.
 
 When the Marques receives the letter he is furious and demands an apology or
a duel.  Sharpe refuses to apologise as he says he doesn't know the Marquesa,
and the duel is arranged.  Duels are forbidden in Wellingtons army and when
discovered, it is passed off as 'sword practice'.  The same night the Marques
is murdered in his bed, and the Spanish, believing Sharpe is responsible, demand
retribution.   Wellington has no choice and a court marshal takes place.  Sharpe
is found guilty and sentenced to hang.  Wellington, however, does not plan
to lose Sharpe.
  La
                      Marquesa and her carriages are ambushed, the carriages
                        taken and La Marquesa is put into a convent.  Maj. Nairn takes Harper out of the camp and reunites
                      him with Sharpe.  Left with having to prove his honour, Sharpe and Harper
                      are tasked with rescuing La Marquesa, so the British can discover the enemy’s
                  next move. | 
              
                | 
                    La
                          Marquesa:                      It's bloody freezing! Patrick Harper:                      Must be the weather, ma’am.
 | 
              
                | Aide: Should I serve
                    sherry to the Spanish officers, sir? Wellington:                  Damn it, Stokeley, it's an execution, not a bloody christening.
 | 
              
                | Pierre
                        Ducos: You've
                    had it easy in this war, Helene. Fluttering your eyelashes
                    and living in Spanish splendour with your dear husband, the
                    Marques. La Marquesa:                    I married him at Napoleon's request. I can't enjoy having
                    him grunt all over me while I stole information for people
                    like you.
 Pierre Ducos: I never considered it.
 La Marquesa: But then you've
never had sex.
 | 
              
                | Peter
                        d'Alembourd:                    I've been speaking with some of the Spanish officers. The
                    Marques is a very fine swordsman. He's been taking lessons
                    in Paris from Ouellet! Richard Sharpe:                  Well, he can take lessons in Spain from me.
 | 
              
                | La
                      Marquesa: Good bye, Raoul. Come soon! (she leaves in
                  a coach) But then again you always do.  | 
              
                | Father
                    Hacha: Your husband is dead, Marquesa. La Marquesa:                  I find it hard to tell the difference.
 | 
              
                | Patrick
                    Harper: Can I ask you where we're going, sir? Nairn: Over
                  the hills, sergeant, and far away.
 Patrick Harper:                  Right. Which hills and how far?
 | 
              
                | Nairn:                  So you believe in ghosts, do you sergeant? Patrick Harper:                  I believe in God the Father, God the Son and the sidhe ridin'
                  the wind.
 | 
              
                | Mother
                      Superior: I hope you are well. La Marquesa:                      I hope you're in excruciating pain.
 Mother Superior:                      Father Hacha has told me of your deep desire to repent.
 La Marquesa: I haven't sinned enough yet.
 Mother
                      Superior:                  Stop!
 La Marquesa:                  Too late, sister. I'm off to commit adultery. Lots of it.
 | 
              
                | La
                    Marquesa: You saved my life. Richard Sharpe:                  You tried to end mine.
 La Marquesa:                  I've never met you.
 Richard Sharpe:                  Well, do you hear that, Pat? She's never met me.
 Patrick Harper:                  You're bleeding, sir. Don't move.
 Richard Sharpe:                  What about my shameful suggestions?
 La Marquesa:                  What?
 Richard Sharpe:                  Oh, she's denying me now, Pat. After all we've been through.
 Patrick Harper:                  I hear her, sir.
 Richard Sharpe:                  You think she'd remember the man who got down on his knees,
                  drunk mind you, and crawled on her floor begging Her Ladyship
                  to sleep with her. Bugger!
 Patrick Harper:                  I'd remember it.
 Richard Sharpe:                  Aye! So would I. The man lost his honour because of the lady's
                  lies. Stripped of his rank... hung on a rope.
 La Marquesa:                  Who are you?
 Richard Sharpe:                  You know who I am. My name is Sharpe
 | 
              
                | Sharpe:                  Drunk again, Harper? Harper: Oh,
                  me too, sir.
 | 
              
                | El
                    Matarife: You must count the ways of your death. Sharpe: The
                  dead don't count, El Matarife.
 | 
              
                | Sharpe:                  Bloody French on one side, partisans on the other... and we're
                  stuck here with the woman who had me hung. Harper: God
                  does work in mysterious ways.
 | 
              
                | Nairn:                  His name was Liam Dooley. He and his brother were going to
                  be hanged for looting a church. I made them an offer. One could
                  live, but one would die. Liam called heads. It was a very bad
                  call. | 
              
                | Ducos:                    You have failed me, priest. Father Hacha:                      I do not understand.
 Ducos:                      Sharpe is alive. The Marquesa is free. The English come.
 Father Hacha:                      [frightened] Sharpe is dead. I saw him hanged.
 Ducos:                  [shoots Hacha] You call me a liar?
 |