Sharpe lost all sense of time. The fear was gone, as it always seemed to vanish once danger was present. Nairne's men, thinned out and bloodied, pushed forward into gun fire. Smoke thickened. Knots of men lay in blood where canister had struck. The wounded called for help, or vomited, or cried, or just lay softly to let death come. ̀1814. There are rumours that Napoleon is dead, or has run away, but Sharpe has one last, battle to fight before he can lay down his sword it is the battle for Toulouse. Little does he know it will be one of the bloodiest conflicts of the war. The battle is not the end of Sharpe's challenges he is stabbed in the back by a whispering campaign branding him a thief and a liar. Sharpe must discover who has framed him, and conduct a revenge as ingenious as it is devastating.