[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
"You answer only to me," Ivor replied. "If I hear that you are within a
hundred paces of Rasnar at any time
I will have you flayed alive, and your daughter and wife held for the coming
of the Tugars."
Kal could not hide his trembling at the threat, and Ivor chuckled darkly.
What frightened him even more, though, was the look of open hatred
Mikhail gave to him. He had guessed right on that one, sensing the noble's
plan when he had insisted personally on riding with him back to the city,
pumping him for information all the way.
"A good plan, yes, a good plan," Ivor mumbled, looking curiously at his
brother and then back to the trembling peasant.
"And mark this well," Ivor said darkly. "Say but one word of the Tugars to
them and I'll not kill you on the spot but will save you and your family
instead for their festival of the moon passing."
"Never would I do such a thing," Kal whispered.
"Let it be known to all others as well," Ivor said sharply, looking to his
speaker of decrees who stood in the corner. "Let it be known by all that
whoever attempts to tell the bluecoats of the Tugars will be saved for the
festival as well."
Ivor leaned back in his chair. Perhaps Rasnar was right about how the
Tugars would feel regarding these bluecoats. He could use them for more
miracles like the glasses he held in his hands, but in the end they would go
to the pits, thus granting exemptions to others that would beg him for such
Page 32
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
things when the time came.
"Bring their Cane before me tomorrow morning," Ivor growled. "Now leave me."
And standing up he put the glasses back on and strode from the room, peering
about and gasping with amazement.
As Kal withdrew, still bowing, he spared a quick glance to Mikhail, who was
looking straight at him.
Do not growl at the wolf so loud that he might hear, Kal thought nervously,
for he will never forget the challenge.
"All right then, boys, look sharp now, the colonel's expecting you to act like
the soldiers you are. You men of Companies A and B have been selected for this
honor now live up to it."
Vincent tried to push his narrow chest out even farther as Sergeant
Schuder stopped in front of him, gazed for a moment, and then with a snort of
disgust continued down the line.
Vincent breathed a sigh of relief. For. some reason the colonel no longer
terrified him in many ways he looked on his one-armed commander as a
father but Schuder was more like the old schoolmaster at Oak Grove, ready to
explode with Old Testament wrath at the slightest provocation.
From the corner of his eye Vincent saw Keane approaching, with Dr.
Weiss riding alongside and Major O'Donald and Kal walking in front of them.
Keane reined his mount up in front of the company and looked the ranks over.
"All right then, lads," Keane said softly, as if addressing a group of friends
about to embark on an afternoon stroll.
"Kal here," and he pointed to the peasant standing beside him, "indicates we
can make a peaceful arrangement with these people. I'm trusting all of you to
do your duty. I want those people out there to see the type of soldiers we
are. But one mistake and it could go badly for the lot of us. I
expect this to go smoothly, and it's important we don't show the slightest
trace of fear. So look and act like soldiers, no matter what you see. If
things should turn ugly, you are to fire only on my command, or
Sergeant Schuder's. Any questions?"
"Colonel, just where in hell are we?" Vincent could tell by the defiant tone
that it was Hinsen.
Keane reined his mount around and came up to stand directly in front of
Hinsen. With a cold look, the colonel stared down at the private.
"That is what we are going to find out, private," he said sharply. "Let me
worry about that. You're new to this regiment, private, so I'll let it pass
this time. But the veterans among you know that the 35th has always seen its
way through, no matter what was put in front of us.
"Now, are there any other questions?"
The men were silent.
"All right, then. Major O'Donald is senior in command until I return." As he
spoke he looked over to where Captain Cromwell and his crew stood.
Vincent instantly sensed that there was some conflict brewing there, the way
the two men looked at each other.
"Sergeant Major Schuder, get the men moving."
Hans stalked down the length of the line, sparing a cold glance for
Hinsen, to the head of the column.
"Uncase the colors," Schuder roared, in his best parade-ground voice.
The staffs were lowered for a moment and then raised up again, revealing the
shot-torn national standard, and alongside it the dark-blue flag of
Maine, snapping in the morning breeze, the blue turned almost lavender by the
reddish light of the sun.
"Company, right face! Forward, march!"
As one the hundred soldiers turned and started for the sally port. Andrew
galloped down the length of the line, to fall in the lead, while a single
caisson and field piece clattered into position at the end of the column.
"Sergeant Dunlevy, if there's trouble," O'Donald roared, "give 'em a whiff of
Page 33
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
double canister," and the artillerymen shouted lustily as they passed before
their commander.
The tiny column passed through the sally port, and over a wooden bridge
spanning the moat.
Vincent looked around nervously at the open field ahead. Thousands of peasants
stood upon the far hills, while ranging out to either side came several
hundred horsemen. Schuder had already told them that if there was trouble,
they'd simply form a square and fight their way back. But they were only a
hundred strong, with a single field piece, while whatever it was they were
facing numbered in the thousands. He knew that somehow the colonel was putting
on a show of bravado, but it didn't do anything to make him feel any less
nervous.
"Musicians, give us a song. 'Marching Through Georgia.' "
The single drummer rolled a flourish, and the fifer started the tune.
"All right, you men, sing, damn you," Hans shouted. "At the top of your lungs
now."
"Ring the old bugle, boys, we'll sing another song."
Vincent fell into the step of the tune, a new favorite with the troops, even
though it was about Billy Sherman's boys, and the column's step fell into a
rhythmic swing.
"Hurrah, hurrah, we bring the jubilee hurrah, hurrah, the flag that makes men
free."
The tiny column crossed the open field of waist-high grass, and cresting the
top of the hill, they stepped out onto a rutted road that wove along the side
of the ridge.
For Vincent the view beyond was breathtaking, and filled him with a deep
longing for home and the woods of Maine. The valley before him was covered
with towering stands of birch, mingled with what looked like spruce, stately
white pines, and an occasional maple. From the vantage point of the crest,
Vincent looked back out toward the sea, and to the west he could see distant
hills beyond. The middle of the valley before him was cut by a broad
meandering river that curved and wove through the valley, emptying into the
freshwater sea a dozen or so miles farther up the shore.
The column pushed on, "Marching Through Georgia" being replaced by
"The Girl I Left Behind Me," and then for good measure "The Battle
Hymn of the Republic."
The men sang with a will, as much to brace up their own courage as to impress
the horsemen around them.
As the minutes passed and the trail turned down toward the river, the open
fields gave way to stands of towering timber.
The march was soon into its second hour without a break, and the sweat coursed
down Vincent's back. But the colonel would not call a halt, as if to show the
watching columns weaving along on either side the toughness of his men.
A lush open field opened up on the left, spreading down from the road to the
broad muddy river swirling by. To their right a tumbling stream cascaded down
from the hills, and at a rickety wooden bridge over the narrow waterway Keane [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl aikidobyd.xlx.pl
"You answer only to me," Ivor replied. "If I hear that you are within a
hundred paces of Rasnar at any time
I will have you flayed alive, and your daughter and wife held for the coming
of the Tugars."
Kal could not hide his trembling at the threat, and Ivor chuckled darkly.
What frightened him even more, though, was the look of open hatred
Mikhail gave to him. He had guessed right on that one, sensing the noble's
plan when he had insisted personally on riding with him back to the city,
pumping him for information all the way.
"A good plan, yes, a good plan," Ivor mumbled, looking curiously at his
brother and then back to the trembling peasant.
"And mark this well," Ivor said darkly. "Say but one word of the Tugars to
them and I'll not kill you on the spot but will save you and your family
instead for their festival of the moon passing."
"Never would I do such a thing," Kal whispered.
"Let it be known to all others as well," Ivor said sharply, looking to his
speaker of decrees who stood in the corner. "Let it be known by all that
whoever attempts to tell the bluecoats of the Tugars will be saved for the
festival as well."
Ivor leaned back in his chair. Perhaps Rasnar was right about how the
Tugars would feel regarding these bluecoats. He could use them for more
miracles like the glasses he held in his hands, but in the end they would go
to the pits, thus granting exemptions to others that would beg him for such
Page 32
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
things when the time came.
"Bring their Cane before me tomorrow morning," Ivor growled. "Now leave me."
And standing up he put the glasses back on and strode from the room, peering
about and gasping with amazement.
As Kal withdrew, still bowing, he spared a quick glance to Mikhail, who was
looking straight at him.
Do not growl at the wolf so loud that he might hear, Kal thought nervously,
for he will never forget the challenge.
"All right then, boys, look sharp now, the colonel's expecting you to act like
the soldiers you are. You men of Companies A and B have been selected for this
honor now live up to it."
Vincent tried to push his narrow chest out even farther as Sergeant
Schuder stopped in front of him, gazed for a moment, and then with a snort of
disgust continued down the line.
Vincent breathed a sigh of relief. For. some reason the colonel no longer
terrified him in many ways he looked on his one-armed commander as a
father but Schuder was more like the old schoolmaster at Oak Grove, ready to
explode with Old Testament wrath at the slightest provocation.
From the corner of his eye Vincent saw Keane approaching, with Dr.
Weiss riding alongside and Major O'Donald and Kal walking in front of them.
Keane reined his mount up in front of the company and looked the ranks over.
"All right then, lads," Keane said softly, as if addressing a group of friends
about to embark on an afternoon stroll.
"Kal here," and he pointed to the peasant standing beside him, "indicates we
can make a peaceful arrangement with these people. I'm trusting all of you to
do your duty. I want those people out there to see the type of soldiers we
are. But one mistake and it could go badly for the lot of us. I
expect this to go smoothly, and it's important we don't show the slightest
trace of fear. So look and act like soldiers, no matter what you see. If
things should turn ugly, you are to fire only on my command, or
Sergeant Schuder's. Any questions?"
"Colonel, just where in hell are we?" Vincent could tell by the defiant tone
that it was Hinsen.
Keane reined his mount around and came up to stand directly in front of
Hinsen. With a cold look, the colonel stared down at the private.
"That is what we are going to find out, private," he said sharply. "Let me
worry about that. You're new to this regiment, private, so I'll let it pass
this time. But the veterans among you know that the 35th has always seen its
way through, no matter what was put in front of us.
"Now, are there any other questions?"
The men were silent.
"All right, then. Major O'Donald is senior in command until I return." As he
spoke he looked over to where Captain Cromwell and his crew stood.
Vincent instantly sensed that there was some conflict brewing there, the way
the two men looked at each other.
"Sergeant Major Schuder, get the men moving."
Hans stalked down the length of the line, sparing a cold glance for
Hinsen, to the head of the column.
"Uncase the colors," Schuder roared, in his best parade-ground voice.
The staffs were lowered for a moment and then raised up again, revealing the
shot-torn national standard, and alongside it the dark-blue flag of
Maine, snapping in the morning breeze, the blue turned almost lavender by the
reddish light of the sun.
"Company, right face! Forward, march!"
As one the hundred soldiers turned and started for the sally port. Andrew
galloped down the length of the line, to fall in the lead, while a single
caisson and field piece clattered into position at the end of the column.
"Sergeant Dunlevy, if there's trouble," O'Donald roared, "give 'em a whiff of
Page 33
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
double canister," and the artillerymen shouted lustily as they passed before
their commander.
The tiny column passed through the sally port, and over a wooden bridge
spanning the moat.
Vincent looked around nervously at the open field ahead. Thousands of peasants
stood upon the far hills, while ranging out to either side came several
hundred horsemen. Schuder had already told them that if there was trouble,
they'd simply form a square and fight their way back. But they were only a
hundred strong, with a single field piece, while whatever it was they were
facing numbered in the thousands. He knew that somehow the colonel was putting
on a show of bravado, but it didn't do anything to make him feel any less
nervous.
"Musicians, give us a song. 'Marching Through Georgia.' "
The single drummer rolled a flourish, and the fifer started the tune.
"All right, you men, sing, damn you," Hans shouted. "At the top of your lungs
now."
"Ring the old bugle, boys, we'll sing another song."
Vincent fell into the step of the tune, a new favorite with the troops, even
though it was about Billy Sherman's boys, and the column's step fell into a
rhythmic swing.
"Hurrah, hurrah, we bring the jubilee hurrah, hurrah, the flag that makes men
free."
The tiny column crossed the open field of waist-high grass, and cresting the
top of the hill, they stepped out onto a rutted road that wove along the side
of the ridge.
For Vincent the view beyond was breathtaking, and filled him with a deep
longing for home and the woods of Maine. The valley before him was covered
with towering stands of birch, mingled with what looked like spruce, stately
white pines, and an occasional maple. From the vantage point of the crest,
Vincent looked back out toward the sea, and to the west he could see distant
hills beyond. The middle of the valley before him was cut by a broad
meandering river that curved and wove through the valley, emptying into the
freshwater sea a dozen or so miles farther up the shore.
The column pushed on, "Marching Through Georgia" being replaced by
"The Girl I Left Behind Me," and then for good measure "The Battle
Hymn of the Republic."
The men sang with a will, as much to brace up their own courage as to impress
the horsemen around them.
As the minutes passed and the trail turned down toward the river, the open
fields gave way to stands of towering timber.
The march was soon into its second hour without a break, and the sweat coursed
down Vincent's back. But the colonel would not call a halt, as if to show the
watching columns weaving along on either side the toughness of his men.
A lush open field opened up on the left, spreading down from the road to the
broad muddy river swirling by. To their right a tumbling stream cascaded down
from the hills, and at a rickety wooden bridge over the narrow waterway Keane [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]