Sword and Scimitar - Scarrow Simon (читать книги онлайн бесплатно серию книг txt) 📗
He looked at his son. ‘You should have remained in Birgu.’
Richard shook his head. ‘I didn’t have much choice once I found the document was missing. Someone has discovered more about me, about us, than is healthy. I have failed in my mission and I would not have been safe if I had stayed in Birgu. At least no one is going to come after me here.’ He chuckled drily. ‘The trouble is, if the Turks don’t annihilate us, and by some miracle we are relieved by Don Garcia, then it’s likely that I will fall into the hands of La Valette’s interrogators.’
‘I rather think that is the least of our problems,’ Thomas replied quietly. ‘The Turks have completed the battery covering the harbour. There won’t be any more reinforcements coming from St Angelo.’ He glanced at the soldiers slumped behind the barricade. Many were injured and wore soiled bandages, and their haggard faces spoke eloquently of their exhaustion and resignation to their all but inevitable fate. He turned back to his son and felt a great sadness come over him.
‘I should have escaped with Maria all those years ago and taken her back to England with me, whatever the risk. Then none of us would be here.’
Richard shrugged. ‘It’s too late for all that. Nothing can be changed. There’s no point in blaming yourself, Father.’
The word slipped from his mouth before he realised it and both men turned to each other.
‘I was hoping you would call me that, before the end.’ Thomas patted him affectionately on the arm. ‘Thank you.’
‘I am your son,’ Richard said simply.
Thomas smiled. ‘My son ... It has a good sound to it. I’m proud of you. I know your mother would be too.’ Thomas looked down at the ground between his boots and thought for a moment. ‘What a mess we make of life. We have but a short time in this world and this is the result. Such a waste ... I should have made a better life for us all. I am sorry.’
‘There is no need to apologise,’ Richard said wearily. ‘Besides, if we die as martyrs for the cause, then we are assured a place in paradise, eh?’
Thomas was silent for a moment. ‘Do you really believe in heaven, Richard? In God, our faith, the Bible?’
His son shot him a concerned look. ‘It is dangerous to voice such questions in others’ hearing. I’d keep them to yourself.’
‘We are beyond worrying about such dangers now.’
Richard puffed his cheeks out and thought briefly before he continued. ‘Are you saying that you don’t believe in the Church of Rome?’
‘No. Not the Church of Rome, nor any church or faith. It is all dead to me and has been for years.’
Richard stared at him and shook his head. ‘Then what is the point of this struggle? Why are you prepared to die in the service of the Order?’
‘I am here because I have nothing to live for. Maria is lost to me, and I cannot protect you. All that is left is to fight to prevent the tyranny of another false faith holding sway over the world. Suleiman threatens the world I know, that is reason enough to oppose him. Tell me, Richard. Do you believe in God?’
Richard was silent.
‘You are no fool,’ Thomas went on. ‘Surely you must have wondered why every prayer goes unanswered, why God stays his hand from preventing evil?’ He paused. ‘Have you ever read the Epicurean paradox?’
Richard shook his head.
‘I think it goes something like this:
If God is willing but not able,
Then he is not all-powerful.
If he is able but not willing,
Then he is malevolent.
If he is both willing and able
Then why is there evil in the world?
If he is neither willing nor able
Then why call him God?’
He waved his hand at their surroundings. ‘If ever there was a need for God to show himself to give the slightest encouragement to those who serve him, then it is here and now. And yet there is nothing but us and the enemy.’
Richard frowned. ‘I have thought about it but I do not like the implications.’
Thomas nodded and let the matter drop. But there was one question he did want an answer to. ‘This document that has been the cause of our troubles, what exactly is it?’
‘It is better that you do not know.’
‘But you were going to show it to me back in Birgu.’
‘I was wrong. If you are taken alive, there is a danger that you will reveal what you know of the document. I’m sorry, I cannot say any more. Please, let the matter rest.’
Thomas felt a bitter pang of disappointment that Richard would not trust him. He was silent for a moment before he eased himself up into a crouch and peered cautiously over the top of the barricade. The rubble- and corpse-strewn ground in front of him was still. Then he saw a slight movement and saw the flicker of a feather behind a large chunk of masonry and ducked down just as the sniper fired. The bullet struck a rock close to where Thomas’s head had been and then ricocheted overhead towards the heart of the fort.
The hours stretched out as they huddled behind the barricade and both sides sniped at anyone rash enough to expose themselves.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Colonel Mas appeared at noon, moving from position to position gathering reports on the morning action and casualty numbers to pass on to Miranda. Despite holding a senior rank, Mas had chosen to defer to the captain. The garrison looked to Miranda and he in turn inspired them with his courage and coolness under fire and the colonel had the good sense not to disturb the arrangement.
He listened to Thomas’s account of the assault and noted the number of losses on a creased sheet of paper, then refolded it and slipped it inside his haversack.
‘How goes it elsewhere?’ asked Thomas.
‘Not well,’ Mas admitted. ‘They sent a party round the north of the fort under the cover of the attack and broke into the cavalier. It’s in their hands now. The rest of the fort is surrounded, except for a narrow track leading down to the jetty.’
‘If they have the cavalier then the route won’t be safe.’
‘It is safe. We’re using a drain. The grate has been removed and the opening has been camouflaged. It gives us some means of communication with Birgu, for what it’s worth.’
Richard peered across the rubble-strewn walls of the fort towards the free-standing cavalier tower rising up between the fort and the sea. There was a green standard flying above the parapet and now and then a head bobbed up to look down into the fort. ‘They’ll be able to see right into the courtyard.’
Mas nodded. ‘Have your men be cautious when they come down from the wall for ammunition, water or food. From now on Miranda wants the men to stay at their posts. They’ll be safer that way. He wants the officers to meet at dusk in the chapel. Be careful getting there.’ He nodded a farewell and then bent low and scurried towards the next section of the wall.
Thomas and the others sat in the afternoon sun, occasionally taking out a dry biscuit or strip of cured meat to chew on, as much to help the long hours pass as to feed any appetite. Overhead the sun beat down on them and sweat dripped from their brows as they slowly stewed inside their cumbersome armour. Several times there was a brief flurry of shots and shouting from one of the other sections of the wall and the men would stand to their weapons in case it heralded another general assault. But each time the fighting quickly subsided and the skirmishing resumed.
At last the sun dipped far enough towards the horizon to cast long shadows across the walls of the fort and give some relief from the heat the defenders had endured for several hours. As the light began to fade, a trumpet sounded from the Turkish lines and men who had been crouching amid the rubble of the fort crept away, returning to their trenches. As soon as the last of them was in cover, the batteries on the crest of the ridge thundered out again and resumed bombarding St Elmo. Instinctively the men lining the barricade flinched and squirmed down a little further.
