Sword and Scimitar - Scarrow Simon (читать книги онлайн бесплатно серию книг txt) 📗
The small drama was over and Thomas puffed his cheeks in relief. La Valette ordered his advisers to follow him and led them out of the study and up on to the tower above the keep from where they would have a better view of the attack on St Elmo. The sun climbed into the sky and a breeze blew in from the north, thinning the dense bank of smoke that clung to the front of the fort. As it cleared, the dreadful struggle for the ravelin and the walls was revealed. Bodies lay heaped in front of the wall, mingled with the wreckage of destroyed ladders. On the walls, more bodies were slumped on the parapet and crimson streaks ran down the pitted stonework. Above the carnage the standard of the Order still flew and the distant figures of the knights gleamed as they urged their men on, defying the enemy as they stood in clear view of the snipers firing from the shelter of their trenches, even though they risked hitting their own men.
Stokely wiped the sweat from his brow and shook his head in wonder. ‘How much longer can the Turks endure such punishment?’
‘Let them come,’ La Valette replied in a cold voice. ‘The more men they lose in taking St Elmo, the fewer we shall have to face when they attack Senglea and Birgu. And their morale will have taken a beating as well.’
The words might have been calculating and ruthless, thought Thomas, but the Grand Master was speaking the truth. As long as St Elmo held out, the Turks would throw men against the defences and suffer appalling losses as a result. In between assaults their cannon would use up precious powder and shot from the supplies they had brought with them from Istanbul. Most important of all, Thomas reflected, they would be wasting precious days of the campaign season. When the rain and storms of autumn arrived, there would be little chance of supplies and reinforcements reaching the Turks.
At last, as the bells of the churches in Birgu announced midday, the enemy attack finally began to peter out. They fell back from the walls to their trenches, leavijig the ground before the fort carpeted with the bodies of their comrades. The ravelin, however, remained in their hands and the Turkish engineers already seemed to be improving its defences by building up the height. As the last of the enemy withdrew, the guns on the ridge opened fire once more, pounding the defences. Along the walls the defenders disappeared from view as they scurried back into cover.
La Valette turned away from the grisly spectacle and Thomas saw that he looked weary, and yet there was the same unyielding determination in his eyes as he met Thomas’s gaze. ‘Thanks be to God. We have won ourselves another day.’
At midday Thomas took Richard to one side as they ate a quick lunch of bread and cheese, washed down by a sharp, vinegary local wine. Thomas quietly related what had been discussed at the morning meeting. Richard listened in silence.
‘At least you have what you came for,’ Thomas concluded. ‘I trust that it is worth risking our lives for.’
‘Taking such risks is in the nature of the game,’ Richard replied. ‘That is why you are not fit for the work that I do.’
Thomas shook his head sadly. ‘And it is why you are not fit to serve as a knight, Richard. Such skulduggery is not honourable.’
‘Really? You knights kill for your cause, and I do what I must for my country. Would you care to explain - justify - which is the more ethical path?’ He gave Thomas a searching look and then smiled thinly. ‘I thought not.’
Thomas looked at him with the frustration of one who knows he is in the right but is too weary to explain the matter. For some reason he felt an obligation to guide Richard, as if he was a real squire, or an errant son. At length Thomas sighed. ‘I trust that you have put your prize somewhere safe.’
‘It’s as well hidden as I can manage under the circumstances.’
‘Good. Then your mission is all but complete. All that remains is to survive the siege,’ he added with an ironic smile. ‘Let us bend our efforts towards rendering good service to La Valette and the Order. Until the siege is over, I serve the Grand Master only, and you serve as my squire and set aside your obedience to Walsingham and his schemes. Agreed?’
Richard thought for a moment and nodded. ‘Until the siege is over.’
The young man turned his attention back to his food, bit off a chunk of cheese and chewed hard as he gazed across the harbour towards St Elmo.
Dusk was settling over the island by the time the officer Colonel Mas had sent to St Elmo returned to make his report. He entered the Grand Master’s study and stood before the table, a bloodied dressing tied about his head. It took a moment before Thomas recognised him as Fadrique, the son of Don Garcia. They exchanged a brief nod of recognition.
‘Do you want a chair?’ La Valette asked him.
‘No, sir.’ Fadrique drew himself up proudly. ‘I will stand.’
‘Very well then. Make your report. What happened at the ravelin?’
‘Captain Miranda is not certain, sir. It seems that one of the sentries on duty in the ravelin was shot dead by a sniper. The men on duty on the exposed parts of the wall have taken to lying flat in order not to present the enemy with a clear target. This morning, it appears that the dead man’s comrades assumed he was alive and keeping watch. That was why the Turks were able to put a ladder up against his section of the ravelin and get a party of Janissaries on to it before our men were aware of the danger. By the time they reacted, it was too late and the ravelin was seized by the Turks.’
‘That is damned careless,’ Colonel Mas said bitterly. ‘Did Miranda attempt to recapture it?’
‘Yes, sir. Twice. The second time I joined the counter-attack. The Turks had fortified the ravelin and packed it full of their men. They shot us down as we tried to force our way back inside. We lost three knights and several men before we even reached the ravelin. Then it was hand-to-hand. Captain Miranda managed to get inside with three men, but was forced back and obliged to retreat into the fort.’
‘The ravelin is lost to us, then?’ La Valette said.
‘Yes, sir. I don’t see how we can retake it now the Turks have thoroughly invested the position. They had already started to build up the level inside before I left the fort. Soon they will be able to fire across the walls into the heart of St Elmo.’ Fadrique paused briefly before he concluded his report. ‘Captain Miranda says that the fort cannot hold out for much longer. A matter of days at most. He has already been approached by a deputation of knights to send you a formal request for permission to evacuate the fort.’
‘Evacuate?’ La Valette frowned. ‘It’s out of the question. Captain Miranda and his men know how vital the position is. They must hold on for as long as possible at any cost. Do you hear?’ He stabbed a finger at Fadrique.
The Spaniard sighed. ‘Sir, I am only repeating what I was told.’
The Grand Master relented. ‘Of course. I apologise, young man. You have done well. Now go and have my surgeon see to that wound.’
‘It is little more than a scratch, sir.’
‘Then it should not take much time to attend to it,’ La Valette responded tersely, with a wave towards the door. Fadrique bowed his head and left the room. Once the door had closed behind the Spaniard, Colonel Mas leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table.
‘What are your intentions, sir?’
La Valette thought for a moment. ‘Miranda must hold out. We can supply the garrison of St Elmo with more ammunition and reinforcements by night.’
‘Not for much longer, sir. This afternoon I saw Turkish engineers marking the ground for more batteries on Gallows Point, and on the headland opposite. Once they have placed guns there they can sweep the harbour between St Elmo and this fort. No boats will be able to cross. The garrison will be cut off. In any case, resupplying Miranda is only part of the problem. The key issue is morale. If his men are already petitioning him to request permission to withdraw, then it is the first step along the road to mutiny.’ Mas looked round at the others. ‘Gentlemen, I have served in many armies, in many wars, and I have seen enough to know that mutiny unchecked is a disease. It destroys an army just as surely as defeat in battle. We cannot allow the men at St Elmo to withdraw. ’
