Shogun - Clavell James (бесплатные полные книги .TXT) 📗

The thunder of the hoofs echoed in the valley.

"Where's the attack commander? Where's Omi-san?" Jozen asked.

"Among the men, be patient," Yabu replied.

"But where's his standard? And why isn't he wearing battle armor and plumes? Where's the commander's standard? They're just like a bunch of filthy no-good bandits!"

"Be patient! All officers are ordered to remain nondescript. I told you. And please don't forget we're pretending a battle is raging, that this is part of a big battle, with reserves and arm-" Jozen burst out, "Where are their swords? None of them are wearing swords! Samurai without swords? They'd be massacred!"

"Be patient!"

Now the attackers were dismounting. The first warriors strode out from the defending ranks to show their valor. An equal number began to measure up against them. Then, suddenly, the ungainly mass of attackers rushed into five tight-disciplined phalanxes, each with four ranks of twenty-five men, three phalanxes ahead and two in reserve, forty paces back. As one, they charged the enemy. In range they shuddered to a stop on command and the front ranks fired an earshattering salvo in unison. Screams and men dying. Jozen and his men ducked reflexively, then watched appalled as the front ranks knelt and began to reload and the second ranks fired over them, with the third and fourth ranks following the same pattern. At each salvo more defenders fell, and the valley was filled with shouts and screams and confusion.

"You're killing your own men!" Jozen shouted above the uproar.

"It's blank ammunition, not real. They're all acting, but imagine it's a real attack with real bullets! Watch!"

Now the defenders "recovered" from the initial shock. They regrouped and whirled back to a frontal attack. But by this time the front ranks had reloaded and, on command, fired another salvo from a kneeling position, then the second rank fired standing, immediately kneeling to reload, then the third and the fourth, as before, and though many musketeers were slow and the ranks ragged, it was easy to imagine the awful decimation trained men would cause. The counterattack faltered, then broke apart, and the defenders retreated in pretended confusion, back up the rise to stop just below the observers. Many "dead" littered the ground.

Jozen and his men were shaken. "Those guns would break any line!"

"Wait. The battle's not over!"

Again the defenders re-formed and now their commanders exhorted them to victory, committed the reserves, and ordered the final general attack. The samurai rushed down the hill, emitting their terrible battle cries, to fall on the enemy.

"Now they'll be stamped into the ground," Jozen said, caught up like all of them in the realism of this mock battle.

And he was right. The phalanxes did not hold their ground. They broke and fled before the battle cries of the true samurai with their swords and spears, and Jozen and his men added their shouts of scorn as the regiments hurtled to the kill. The musketeers were fleeing like the Garlic Eaters, a hundred paces, two hundred paces, three hundred, then suddenly, on command, the phalanxes regrouped, this time in a V formation. Again the shattering salvos began. The attack faltered. Then stopped. But the guns continued. Then they, too, stopped. The game ceased. But all on the rise knew that under actual conditions the two thousand would have been slaughtered.

Now, in the silence, defenders and attackers began to sort themselves out. The "bodies" got up, weapons were collected. There was laughter and groaning. Many men limped and a few were badly hurt.

"I congratulate you, Yabu-sama," Dozen said with great sincerity. "Now I understand what all of you meant."

"The firing was ragged," Yabu said, inwardly delighted. "It will take months to train them."

Dozen shook his head. "I wouldn't like to attack them now. Not if they had real ammunition. No army could withstand that punch - no line. The ranks could never stay closed. And then you'd pour ordinary troops and cavalry through the gap and roll up the sides like an old scroll." He thanked all kami that he'd had the sense to see one attack. "It was terrible to watch. For a moment I thought the battle was real."

"They were ordered to make it look real. And now you may review my musketeers, if you wish."

"Thank you. That would be an honor."

The defenders were streaming off to their camps that sat on the far hillside. The five hundred musketeers waited below, near the path that went over the rise and slid down to the village. They were forming into their companies, Omi and Naga in front of them, both wearing swords again.

"Yabu-sama?"

"Yes, Anjin-san?"

"Good, no?"

"Yes, good."

"Thank you, Yabu-sama. I please."

Mariko corrected him automatically. "I am pleased."

"Ah, so sorry. I am pleased."

Jozen took Yabu aside. "This is all out of the Anjin-san's head?"

"No," Yabu lied. "But it's the way barbarians fight. He's just training the men to load and to fire."

"Why not do as Naga-san advised? You've the barbarian's knowledge now. Why risk its spreading? He is a plague. Very dangerous, Yabu-sama. Naga-san was right. It's true - peasants could fight this way. Easily. Get rid of the barbarian now."

"If Lord Ishido wants his head, he has only to ask."

"I ask it. Now." Again the truculence. "I speak with his voice."

"I'll consider it, Jozen-san."

"And also, in his name, I ask that all guns be withdrawn from those troops at once."

Yabu frowned, then turned his attention to the companies. They were approaching up the hill, their straight, disciplined ranks faintly ludicrous as always, only because such order was unusual. Fifty paces away they halted. Omi and Naga came on alone and saluted.

"It was all right for a first exercise," Yabu said.

"Thank you, Sire," Omi replied. He was limping slightly and his face was dirty, bruised, and powder marked.

Jozen said, "Your troops would have to carry swords in a real battle, Yabu-sama, neh? A samurai must carry swords - eventually they'd run out of ammunition, neh?"

"Swords will be in their way, in charge and retreat. Oh, they'll wear them as usual to maintain surprise, but just before the first charge they'll get rid of them."

"Samurai will always need swords. In a real battle. Even so, I'm glad you'll never have to use this attack force, or-" Jozen was going to add, "or this filthy, treacherous method of war." Instead he said, "Or we'll all have to give our swords away."

"Perhaps we will, Jozen-san, when we go to war."

"You'd give up your Murasama blade? Or even Toranaga's gift?"

"To win a battle, yes. Otherwise no."

"Then you might have to run very fast to save your fruit when your musket jammed or your powder got wet." Jozen laughed at his own sally. Yabu did not.

"Omi-san! Show him!" he ordered.

At once Omi gave an order. His men slipped out the short sheathed bayonet sword that hung almost unnoticed from the back of their belts and snapped it into a socket on the muzzle of their muskets.

"Charge!"

Instantly the samurai charged with their battle cry, "Kasigiiiiiii!"

The forest of naked steel stopped a pace away from them. Jozen and his men were laughing nervously from the sudden, unexpected ferocity. "Good, very good," Jozen said. He reached out and touched one of the bayonets. It was extremely sharp. "Perhaps you're right, Yabu-sama. Let's hope it's never put to the test."

"Omi-san!" Yabu called. "Form them up. Vozen-san's going to review them. Then go back to camp. Mariko-san, Anjin-san, you follow me!" He strode down the rise through the ranks, his aides, Blackthorne, and Mariko following.

"Form up at the path. Replace bayonets!"

Half the men obeyed at once, turned about, and walked down the slope again. Naga and his two hundred and fifty samurai remained where they were, bayonets still threatening.