Jack Steel Adventure Series Books 1-3: Man of Honour, Rules of War, Brothers in Arms. Iain Gale
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СКАЧАТЬ hussars had managed to negotiate the piles of dead and broken men and horses and connected with the line. The first took a bayonet in the thigh and hacked down at his assailant, who ducked and, retrieving his bloodied blade, thrust it again and this time sent it clean into the cavalryman’s unprotected side. The man clutched at the weapon and hurled himself from the saddle only to impale himself further. Next to him another hussar had had better success, parrying the thrust of one of Jennings’ men and swiping down with his blade to flense off half of the man’s face. Steel pushed aside the dying musketeer and before the Frenchman could defend himself, made a great sweeping cut with the broadsword, taking the tip of his blade and three inches of steel through the man’s side and belly. The man dropped his sword and clutched at the awful wound. He tried to turn his horse and was brought down by a shot, fired from the rear rank. More figures were appearing through the smoke now. A voice from his rear made him turn. It was Stringer, eyes staring, bayonet bloody:

      ‘Mister Steel, Sir. They’ve come round the flank Sir, up the next street. You must come, Sir.’

      Steel turned to Slaughter:

      ‘It’s Jennings, he’s in trouble. Take over. Re-form the men, Jacob. Reload if you can. I’ll be back as quickly as I can. And find Williams.’

      He ran after Stringer, who had already begun to run away, and down the narrow alleyway connecting the two streets like the spokes on a wheel towards the town square.

      It was deep black between the high walls and, looking towards the light at the end, after a few yards Steel saw the Sergeant turn left into the main street and out of sight. He continued in pursuit. He had slung the empty fusil over his shoulder and carried his sword low now, in readiness for whatever might meet him. His ears were still ringing from the crashing volley and his feet on the cobbles sounded curiously dim against the general cacophony. Even half deaf, though, as he rounded the corner, Steel was aware that something was missing. The street was silent and before he could check his pace, he realized that he had not run into some desperate struggle, but merely into a trap.

      Stringer’s bayonet-tipped musket was pointed directly at his chest. Behind him, Jennings was leaning against the stone sill of a ground-floor window.

      ‘Ah, Steel. Thank you. Once again you come to my rescue. This time though, I am afraid that it is not myself that is in deadly peril, but you.’

      Steel stood staring at the Major, all too aware of the needle-sharp point that hovered dangerously close to his throat. God damn it. How had he not seen this coming? Another duel had been inevitable. Honour must be satisfied. But like this?

      ‘Major Jennings. You can call off your terrier now. I’ll fight you fair. But this is not the time. We’re being beaten. We must act together for the sake of the army. We cannot afford to lose here. For pity’s sake, man. This can wait.’

      ‘But, Steel. Don’t you understand? Have you no idea at all? I am doing this for the sake of the army. I am aware that we cannot afford to lose here. Not the flour. The real reason for your mission.’

      Steel’s eyes widened.

      ‘I know what you have, Lieutenant. I know what it was that you bought from Kretzmer and its importance to Marlborough. But you see it is of equal importance to those who sent me here. No, not Colonel Hawkins but those who have Britain’s true interests at heart.’

      ‘You bloody traitor.’

      Jennings grimaced.

      ‘Now, now, Steel. Really, I expected better from you. You know I have come to have some respect for you over the past few days. You are a fighter, though you may be a ruffian at heart. And you do at least know your place. Unlike our brave commander, the Duke, who can never be anything more than a jumped-up farmer. We need to be led by natural leaders, Steel. By the men whose ancestors led us at Crécy and Agincourt. With that letter in their hands they will be able to bring down Marlborough and restore the army to its rightful masters. And it is my duty to ensure that they have it.’

      ‘You’ll have to kill me first.’

      ‘Oh dear. I did so hope that you weren’t going to be heroic.’

      Stringer, grinning, edged the tip of his bloody bayonet closer to Steel’s throat.

      ‘And sincerely, Steel, I would have loved to have given you a chance in a fair fight. But now you see, as you yourself are aware, time is of the essence. Now. Your weapons, please.’

      Again the bayonet moved forward. Steel dropped the sword to the ground.

      ‘And the gun.’

      Steel hooked his hand beneath the sling of the gun and moved to let it fall to the ground. Just as it seemed that he was about to drop it though, he grasped the weapon by the barrel, and dipping down beneath the bayonet and musket, swung it up and drove it, butt first, with all his strength deep into Stringer’s groin. The man yelped in agony, dropped his musket and fell to the ground, screaming and clutching at his genitals. Steel, still holding the gun, straightened up, but Jennings was quick.

      Thinking fast, the Major made a copy-book lunge at Steel’s side and struck home. He felt the blade slide into flesh and quickly withdrew it. Steel let out a hollow groan and turned, clutching at his side.

      ‘Tut tut. Brawling with a senior officer, Mister Steel? You’ll never find promotion that way. En garde? Oh, you are unarmed. Well, as you will then.’

      Steel swung out wildly with the gun, but Jennings hardly had to move to avoid it. He lunged at Steel and cut into thigh, a few inches above the knee. The pain tore through the Lieutenant. Steel looked about for his sword and saw it, lying just a few feet away. If he could just get to it, somehow. Hurling the gun at Jennings, he reached wildly for the sword and grabbed at the hilt but before he could make contact, Jennings was on him again. Steel felt the burning stab as the tip of the sword just nicked his back. He turned and, his eyes filled with rage and pain, threw himself, weaponless upon the Major, wrenching his sword by the blade from his hand and in the process cutting his own down to the bone. Jennings, taken completely by surprise, dropped the sword and saw that Steel still had it by the blade.

      To Steel’s right, close to where the Sergeant was still writhing in pain on the ground, Jennings saw Stringer’s fallen musket. In an instant Jennings was on it and, as Steel paused to move the sword hilt into his right arm, he brought the heavy wooden butt crashing down like a club upon the Lieutenant’s skull, with a sickening crack. Steel’s legs gave way and he slumped to the cobbles. He fell on to his knees, his back quite rigid and, as his eyes filled with a red haze, collapsed upon his face. Jennings, breathless, stood over him, the musket still raised in his hands. No, he thought. He would not beat the man’s brains out. Nor would he spit him on the bayonet. He would finish him like a gentleman. But first. He dropped the weapon to the ground and, crouching down, reached beneath Steel’s heavy body. He delved into the inner recesses of his coat and at last his fingers closed around a small square object. Smiling he withdrew his hand and looked at the package. It was tied with twine around brown paper. He eased the string to one side and read the first, faded page.

      ‘Your Majesty,

      You cannot know how my heart yearns for your return and how all Britain shall rejoice when once again our land is restored to its rightful monarch …’

      Looking further down the small sheet Jennings was able to discern the signature:

      ‘Your most faithful servant,

      John СКАЧАТЬ