Jack Steel Adventure Series Books 1-3: Man of Honour, Rules of War, Brothers in Arms. Iain Gale

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СКАЧАТЬ Major, whoever he might be, was after the package that he himself was so determined to have from Steel. But his presence was an irrelevance, although it did imply that the hussars might have infantry support. Even without it, it was clear to Jennings that their small force was about to engage in a desperate fight. And that, he realized, was all the opportunity he needed. Why bother with the risk of slitting Steel’s throat in his sleep when he could kill him in the mêlée, retrieve the letter and turn a bungled mission into a moment of glory? He saw the men drawn up in three ranks at the head of the street and, moving to another of the lanes leading to the river, Jennings lengthened his stride and began to run as fast as he could towards the bridge.

      The hussars, as Steel had predicted, had come at them in the only way they could. Straight across the bridge. The redcoats’ first volley had dropped six of the horsemen and those behind, surprised by the fury of the fire, had fallen back. Now, though, they had re-formed and, advancing three abreast across the bridge, they came on in a dense column of snorting animals and jangling harness. There was no room for them to accelerate to a charge, they knew it would be bloody murder. But the horsemen were determined and Steel knew that however many more of them his men killed and wounded with the next volley, they would prevail through sheer weight of numbers. He cocked his fusil and rested it in the ready position.

      ‘Make ready.’

      Looking down the ranks he saw familiar faces and gauged their looks of apprehension and resignation.

      ‘On my command you will give fire. Then run like bloody hell up that hill. Grenadiers. Present.’

      The hussars were almost on them now. Still at a trot, but at any moment they would be able to fan out at the head of the bridge and then, if the Grenadiers held their fire too long, it would all be over. Steel paused. Still he did not give the command. He saw Slaughter steadying someone’s gun and muttering words of encouragement.

      ‘Steady. Steady.’

      Then it was time.

      ‘Fire.’

      The air became a cloud of white smoke and ahead of them, just at the moment that the three leading hussars left the confines of the bridge, he saw eight or even ten of their number crash down in a heap of men and horses.

      ‘Right. Retire. All of you. Run.’

      Steel began to walk backwards, still gazing at the carnage on the bridge. Some of his men, the old sweats, did likewise but most of them were already running hell for leather back up the little street.

      And then he was with them, running too, as fast as he could go.

      Steel knew that it would take a few moments for the cavalry to disentangle themselves from the dead and dying. But he knew too that once they were clear, he and his men would be defenceless until they reached the reserve at the top of the hill.

      Steel cast a nervous look back over his shoulder and saw, emerging out of the clearing smoke, the distinctive shapes of the hussars. And now they were free to charge.

      ‘Run you buggers. Run.’

      His boots slithered up the slippery cobbles, his heart thumping against his chest. He knew that a few of his men would go down. But this was their only hope. Ahead he could see now the three ranks of redcoats. He raised his hand, motioning them to the side.

      With perfect precision they parted just in time to admit the remainder of the men in front of him. Steel was ten feet away from them now. From behind he heard a scream as one of the Grenadiers fell beneath a hussar’s bloody sabre. The line had to close up or else they would all be lost. He raised his hand again, signalling them to move together. Unquestioning, the men did as ordered and he was caught between the crash of approaching hoofbeats and a wall of bayonets and muskets. He dared not look round again, but he could feel the hot breath of a horse on his back. Six feet to go now. Five. With an almighty effort, Steel threw himself at the line of redcoats and, sensing the presence of something cutting the air immediately behind his neck, slid on his back across the cobbles before crashing into the feet of two of the front-rank men. At that exact instant, above his head, the world became a storm of shot as the redcoats opened up. Steel pressed his head into the stones and prayed.

      Still lying down, he turned his face towards where the cavalry had been. As the smoke cleared he saw six of the horsemen and four horses lying dead and dying in the street. He knew that it wasn’t enough. Behind the shattered, blue-coated bodies he could see a block of hussars, riding knee to knee, advancing steadily towards him. The volley had merely skimmed the top of the column. They had not even bothered to re-form. Their commander had sent them forward in waves. The first had been annihilated, but here was the second. There might be time for one more volley. But then what? How could so few infantry resist? He clambered to his feet and edged to the rear rank looking around at the redcoats. He saw Slaughter, Cussiter, Taylor, Tarling, Hopkins and Tom Williams. Good. Though he wondered which poor devils had been left out there on the cobbles with the dead hussars. And where in God’s name was Jennings? Stringer too had disappeared. Steel was damned if either man was going to be spared what looked as if it might be their last fight. He found Williams.

      ‘Tom, go and see if you can find Major Jennings and Sarn’t Stringer. Look everywhere. They’re probably somewhere near the square. Hurry.’

      He turned to Slaughter.

      ‘Reload, Sarn’t. How many rounds a man do we have?’

      ‘Couldn’t say, Sir, but it can’t be many. There’s always the grenades.’

      ‘No. The cobbles would be blown to blazes. We’d kill as many of our own men as theirs. It’s bullets this time, Jacob. And bayonets. Let’s see how many we can take with us.’

      Steel could see the hussars coming on again. His plan had worked but it had not been enough. He wondered whether Williams had found Jennings and Stringer. Whether they would reach him before the cavalry rode down the redcoats and began their butchery or whether the three officers might yet escape. Glancing across the square he saw the empty carriage and thought of Louisa. What would happen to her? He should have sent her away. But how? Too late now for that. He prayed that the French hussars would be more merciful than their Grenadiers. He turned to Slaughter and smiled. He was ready for it now. Listening for the hooves on the cobbles, for the battle cries that would come as the cavalry urged themselves on towards the guns and the bayonets, Steel turned to the redcoats:

      ‘Make ready.’

      Down the street the hussars still came on, boot to boot.

      ‘Present.’

      The cavalry were trotting at them now. He could see their faces and their piercing eyes. Heard the sergeants calling out commands in French. Pushing them on. They were packed too tight for a canter, but Steel knew that their sheer weight would be enough to push them into the infantry. The line of muskets held its aim on the advancing cavalry. Slaughter hissed at them:

      ‘Steady. Wait for the command.’

      Thirty paces out. Twenty.

      ‘Fire!’

      Steel yelled the word and as he did, squeezed the trigger of his own weapon. The volley filled the narrow street, half-deafening the infantry and covering the scene in thick white smoke. Steel peered towards the enemy.

      ‘Prepare to receive cavalry.’

      The volley had slowed the riders but he was СКАЧАТЬ