[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
till Tugars, fire, and the endless stream of refugees blended into one
sustained nightmare that drove him to the edge of reason.
He had given up all hope of keeping his command together in the fear-choked
rampage. All order was breaking away as the terrified masses filled the
streets southward so that it was impossible to move.
The Tugars, unrelenting in' their fury, pushed them ever back, slaying as they
advanced.
Reaching the square, he looked around, dazed. Drawn across the great square
stood the last remaining formations, in the center the men of the
35th and O'Donald with his four Napoleons.
Staggering, he was swept along with the surging mass of humanity.
Perhaps he could still get to Tanya and the baby. At least Andrew had allowed
them to be moved into the cathedral for the end. Weaving through the crowd, he
reached the lines of the 35th, collapsing with exhaustion, Dimitri, clutching
the flame-scorched standard of the regiment, the only one left to his command.
"Your regiment, boy?" Hans said, coming up and pulling him to his feet.
"Gone. I lost contact with them down by the docks."
"You did what you could, son," Hans said evenly. "Find a rifle and get in the
line."
"Is this it, then?" Hawthorne said numbly.
Hans merely nodded in reply and pushed his way through the press, roaring for
the people before him to clear the square.
Leaving Dimitri with a knot of Suzdalians from a dozen different regiments,
Page 215
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Hawthorne pushed his way into the cathedral, looking desperately about. A
service was going on, Casmar at the altar, but his words could not be heard
above the wild shrieks.
Pushing his way forward, he kept screaming for Tanya. A young acolyte came up
to him. Grabbing hold of Vincent's sleeve, he pulled the boy down a packed
corridor, opened a door, and guided him in.
In the narrow room he saw Kal look up at him, Tanya, the baby, and
Ludmilla by his side.
Kal's eyes were questioning. Hawthorne shook his head sadly and sat down by
the old peasant's cot.
"We gave them a fight they'll never forget," Kal said weakly, reaching out and
taking Hawthorne's hand. Tanya, kneeling down beside him, said nothing, trying
to hide her fear.
"It's just this damn fire I fear," Kal said weakly. "I've always been afraid
of fire. Must have been from seeing their roasting pits when I was a boy."
"The entire lower city's in flames," Hawthorne said softly.
"I always told Ivor he should make ways to stop fires. Seemed like every
twenty years most of the city would burn. The stupid fat man never could see
the sense of building cisterns. Ah well, so now it'll burn once and for all."
"The wind out of the west is stirring it up," Hawthorne said, as if by talking
the fear of the moment could go away. "At least the flames aren't coming this
way they're blowing straight over the Tugar camp. I heard some of their tents
have caught."
"Let 'em get water from the dam," Kal mumbled. "Hell, at least something I
built will be left."
Suddenly Hawthorne stood up and looked about the room. Grabbing hold of Tanya,
he kissed her for a long lingering moment.
Nothing was said, but both understood what the parting meant.
"God keep all of you," he whispered and then pushed out the door.
Going through the door, he made his way down the corridor, and finding a
narrow doorway, he pulled it open and raced up the stairs two at a time, till
reaching the top he stepped out breathless.
"Colonel Keane?" he cried, looking about.
The few staff members there shook their heads and pointed back down into the
square.
Hawthorne went to the eastern side of the tower and looked out. Flames from
the city were racing straight eastward, lighting the sky. Across the entire
lower half of the city, down to the dry banks of the Vina, Tugars by the tens
of thousands were pushing forward, pouring in through the gaping holes in the
defensive line.
Turning, Hawthorne looked straight up. Petracci's balloon still dangled
overhead, its lone occupant leaning over, his terrified cries lost in the
uproar.
Hawthorne leaped to the steps and raced back down. Pushing his way through the
crowd, he forced his way back out into the square. Seeing several of Andrew's
staff, he called to them, asking for the colonel, and like their comrades
above they simply pointed out to the square.
"Find him!" Hawthorne shouted. "Have him meet me where the balloon is
launched!" The men looked at him as if he were mad, but several started off in
search.
Shoving his way through the crowd, Hawthorne made for the center of the
square. A walk that before would not have taken more than a couple of minutes
now seemed to take hours. At last he reached the platform, the men of the 35th
anchored around it, the Napoleons flanked to either side.
"Help me get Hank down," Hawthorne shouted, pointing heavenward.
"Jesus, we forgot all about that fool," one of the men said. Grabbing hold of
the windlass, several men started to wind in the cable. Twirling and spinning,
the balloon came back to earth, straining out on the breeze so that it almost
hit the highest spire of the church. Downward it came, largely ignored by the
multitude in the square, so intent were they on the doom sweeping up from the
Page 216
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
north.
At last the balloon dangled directly overhead. Hank climbed over the side and
leaped out, collapsing on the platform.
"I've been up there sixteen hours," he gasped. "You bastards forgot about me.
I thought for sure that some burning brand would hit it and blow me apart!"
"Have you ever seen one of these things flown in free flight?" Hawthorne
demanded.
"Are you mad?" Hank said faintly. "I'm never going up in that thing again. It
could kill you."
"Then, dammit, get out of my way," Hawthorne shouted.
Looking around, Hawthorne could not see Andrew or Hans. Then the hell with
it he'd do it with or without orders.
Leaping off the platform, he saw O'Donald and pushed his way up.
"O'Donald, do you have any barrels of powder with your guns?"
"A couple of hundred pounds tied to one of the limbers."
"I need a hundred pounds now!"
"What the hell for? I'm going to pack the guns with it and blow them apart
when we run out of shot."
"Just give me the powder," Hawthorne shouted desperately. "I'll tell you about
it while we're loading."
"Captain, we can't leave them," Bullfinch, the young first officer, pleaded.
"It's lost, dammit," Tobias shouted. "It's all lost. So what the hell good is
there in staying? I told that Keane a year ago he was a fool for staying here.
With this ship we could have carved out our own empire without fear of these
Tugars. But no, the damn fool wants to go and free these
Suzdalians, like another Lincoln freeing the niggers.
"The hell with him. Now cast off the line. We're pulling out while we still
can."
Bullfinch looked about at the men on deck. Tobias had shrewdly allowed his
Suzdalian gun crews to bring their families aboard the night before, and he
could sense that all of them, now seeing a way out, would follow the captain.
"With this ship we'll go back to those bastards down south and make ourselves
kings. Now let's go."
"You can go to hell," Bullfinch snapped, heading for the gangplank. "I'm
staying here. I'd rather die now than live with the shame you'll bear."
Bullfinch stepped down the gangplank. A young private from the 35th came out
of the crowds lining the dock and raced for the gangplank.
"I'm going with him," the private cried.
"Who the hell is that?" Tobias roared, standing alongside the field gun
trained down the gangplank, which he had used to keep the mob back.
"Private Hinsen, sir!"
Tobias smiled.
"Come aboard, private. I need men like you!"
Grinning sardonically at Bullfinch, Hinsen shoved his way past and leaped
aboard the ship.
The lines were cast off, and the lone officer stood in silence as the
Ogunquit, making steam, turned out into midchannel. With the river foaming
under its stern the
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]