Sword and Scimitar - Scarrow Simon - Страница 58
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There was a brief silence amongst the officers as they stared towards the dense ranks of the Turks who completed their prayers at length and rose to their feet, and at once the air filled with the rhythmic sound of their drums and cymbals and the shrill notes of their horns as they raised their weapons and shook them at the walls. The chaotic flicker of the sun’s reflections on the weapons of the Turks reminded Thomas of the sparkle of the sea, as if they were a wave about to crash upon a rocky shore.
‘They mean to attack without delay,’ Thomas decided. He turned to look down the line of the wall. The bastions occupied by the langues of Castille and Auvergne were the only fortifications that had been fully completed. The other bastions were still without embrasures solid enough to withstand the fire of enemy cannon. The same was true for lengths of the wall between the bastions.
‘Look there.’ Mas pointed towards the Turkish lines. A handful of richly dressed officers with turquoise turbans rode out a short distance ahead of their battle line. Behind them marched a company of Janissaries, their ostrich feathers wafting above their tall hats like a faint haze. The foremost of them was leading a man whose arms were tightly bound behind his back. He stumbled as he was dragged along and Thomas could just make out that he was barefoot and wore only the tattered remains of a red surcoat bearing a white cross, the instantly recognisable garb of the Order. His blond hair hung down to his shoulders and there was no doubt about his identity.
‘That’s La Riviere,’ Stokely muttered. He glanced quickly at Thomas and scowled. ‘You were right, it seems.’
The officers watched as the procession began to make its way along the enemy line, parallel to the defences. Every so often the Turkish officers would stop and point towards Birgu as they questioned their prisoner.
Mas shook his head. ‘He shouldn’t have let himself be taken.’
‘Perhaps there was nothing he could do about it,’ said Thomas. ‘He was overwhelmed, and they would want to take one of our knights alive just as keenly as we desired one of their officers.’
‘Still,’ the colonel muttered, ‘it was his duty not to fall into their hands.’
Thomas shrugged. ‘Blame him as you will, there is nothing that can be done now.’
‘Obviously,’ Stokely sniffed.
Mas turned to La Valette. ‘Sir, we should order our guns to fire on them. We must silence La Riviere before the Turks can make any further use of him. We might kill some of their officers at the same time.’
La Valette squinted towards the enemy for a moment and shook his head. ‘The range is long and we need to preserve powder. Besides, I think La Riviere might yet provide us with one more useful service.’
‘Sir?’
‘Just watch him.’
The enemy party continued their examination of the defences. At length they halted opposite the bastions occupied by the knights from Auvergne and Castille and there was a lengthy exchange between the Turkish officers and their prisoner. It was then that Thomas understood what the Grand Master had been alluding to.
‘La Riviere’s telling the Turks to attack our strongest position.’
La Valette nodded. ‘I think so.’
Thomas thought for a moment before he continued in a low voice, ‘As soon as they discover the truth, they will take their revenge on him.’
‘Then let us hope that their revenge, and his suffering, are swift.’ The Grand Master turned to Mas. ‘If La Riviere is doing what I think he is, then we must add to his deception. Take five companies of our arquebusiers out of the main gate and send them forward far enough to skirmish with the enemy. They are to exchange fire but avoid any engagement at close quarters. If the enemy advances on them, pull them back at once.’
The colonel hesitated a moment before responding. ‘Is that wise, sir? We have few enough men as it is. We’re bound to suffer casualties.’
‘That can’t be helped. We must make the enemy think that the rest of the line is strongly defended, and that there are only a few men holding these two bastions. If they throw their weight against us here, they will suffer grievously and, with luck, they will think all our defences are as strong as this.’ He patted the thick masonry of the embrasure. ‘Now go and prepare the men, Colonel. And you may lead them. Let them have their first taste of action. See how they stand up to enemy fire. It’ll steady their hearts and give them confidence, you’ll see.’
‘As you command, sir.’ Colonel Mas bowed his head.
He strode off and descended the staircase. La Valette and the others turned their attention back to the enemy in time to see the small party move away from the bastions and make their way back through the batde line. There was a short delay before the noise from the enemy’s drums, cymbals and horns swelled into a cacophony that echoed off the stone walls of Birgu and the fort of St Michael. In response there was a rattle of drums from the battlements and the main gates opened as Colonel Mas led out the first company of arquebusiers. At their appearance the defenders let out a cheer and the colours of the Order and the banners of the mercenaries swirled in the light breeze as the standard bearers waved them from side to side. Colonel Mas and his small force crossed the drawbridge over the ditch that ran along the front of the wall. The arquebusiers took up position amid the remains of the buildings and low stone walls that had been hurriedly demolished during the previous weeks.
Thomas watched as they loaded and primed their weapons and blew on the smouldering fuses to make sure that they stayed alight, ready for use once the order to open fire was given.
As soon as they saw the arquebusiers emerge from the main gate, the Turks responded in kind. A line of Janissaries advanced from the main battle line, long barrels propped against their shoulders as they strode confidently towards Birgu. Colonel Mas stood on a pile of rubble in full view of the enemy and calmly watched them approach, one hand resting on his hip, the other on the hilt of his sword. Thomas could not help but admire the coolness of the mercenary officer.
The enemy were allowed to get well within the range of the defenders before Colonel Mas bellowed the order to open fire. A rolling crackle of explosions rippled along the line of arquebusiers as they fired from cover along the front of the wall. Tiny tongues of flame darted from the barrels of the weapons and were instantly engulfed in thick greasy-looking clouds of gunpowder smoke.
Thomas saw several of the Janissaries tumble as they were struck by the heavy lead balls, while dust and chips of stone burst from the ground where shots missed. At once the arquebusiers began to reload their weapons. The Janissaries hesitated briefly before one of their officers drew his scimitar and waved them on. The advance continued, but now the enemy were hunched forward slightly as they tried to make themselves smaller targets. Colonel Mas gave the order to fire at will and the more handy of the men got their next shots off well in advance of their comrades and then the firing merged into a steady crackle.
A score. of the Janissaries were sprawled on the open ground, some writhing feebly or trying to crawl back to the rear. When their comrades had closed to just over a hundred yards from the arquebusiers, their officer gave the order to halt and return fire. It was the last order he ever gave as a moment later a shot struck him in the head and the back of his white headdress exploded in bloody fragments. His body spasmed and he toppled on to his back, spreadeagled, and kicked a few times before lying still. But his men continued to follow his order, setting their long-barrelled weapons up on slim wooden stands and then taking careful aim on the defenders before returning fire.
Even though their weapons were more accurate and they were better trained and could load and fire more quickly than their opponents, the Turks were in open ground and made easy targets. From the bastion it seemed to Thomas that for every one of Mas’s men who fell, at least three of the enemy were shot down. The colonel steadily made his way along the rear of the line, encouraging the men while miraculously avoiding the enemy’s shots which smashed into stones nearby or kicked up divots of soil and gravel close to his boots.
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