[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
The two galleys that had been mentioned were just now turning in, prow-first
toward the beach. It was clearly their intention to come in as close to the
land as possible. Indeed, they checked themselves and anchored not more than
ten or fifteen feet from shore; and now men were jumping overboard at the
prow, landing in water varying from waist deep to shoulder deep, and wading
ashore. They varied remarkably in both armor and the weapons they carried; but
most had a round, obviously wooden shield, and a curved sword-the latter
carried naked in their hand as they reached the shore.
No sooner was one out of the waves than he charged up the beach, shouting as
he went, toward the village and those still trying to escape up the road to
the castle.
There was no order to the way the attackers came, but very soon a good share
of them were on the land and already in among the villages. Jim had expected
to see the buildings there go up in flames almost immediately; but they did
not. Instead the attackers merely rushed through the structures in pursuit of
those trying to escape.
Slingers! said Sir Mortimor.
There were still only about half a dozen bowmen on top of the tower, but
possibly as many as three dozen of the other men. These lined the battlements
facing the beach, reached into their pouches, and drew forth a length of
doubled leather thong with a flat leather pad in the middle of it, which had
been poked or molded into a pocket. Digging again into their pouches, they
came up with dull slugs of some sort of metal. Each at his own rate of speed
fitted a slug into the pocket of his thong arrangement, took both ends of the
thong and began one-handedly whirling the whole arrangement lightly in a
vertical circle, as they gazed down at the beach, the weight of the slug in
the pocket stretching the thong arrangement-which was evidently and clearly a
sling-to its fullest limits, so that it rotated like a solid wand in the hand
of each as he twirled it.
Never mind any that haven t reached at least to the bottom of the road,
said Sir Mortimor. Pick off those close to the villagers. Wait for my order.
The row of men stood apparently idly whirling their slings. It was not until
the first of the attackers were within a few steps of overtaking an old woman
who was lagging behind the rest of those frantically trying to reach safety,
before he gave the word; and by that time the section of the road that had
been left empty behind the villagers was now full of the Moroccan pirates.
Now! said Sir Mortimor and all together, as if it had been rehearsed, one
Page 56
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
end of each sling was let go, the slingers leaning forward all together as
they released their missiles-and, immediately, each slinger had another slug
out of his pouch, fitted it into the socket of his sling and was whirling it
again, slinging now as each one was ready.
Down below, the results were remarkable. From this height, of course, the
impact of the slugs was soundless and, unlike the strike of arrows, there was
nothing to be seen in the way of a shaft with feathers sticking out of the
person hit.
Balearic slingers! cried Brian with delight. They are Balearics, are they
not, Sir Mortimor?
For the most part, grunted Sir Mortimor, his eyes still on the situation
below. They have to be trained from boyhood, like those who use the longbow.
But some of these are cheaper, raised closer to hand, and from the standpoint
of a castle like mine, it is much easier to stock great amounts of the slugs
they throw, than the carefully made arrows a bowman must use, and which
usually cannot be recovered when a castle is being attacked and possibly
besieged. Also, they have not the range of the longbow, but at short distances
like this they are wonderfully effective.
Effective indeed! said Brian.
And so they were.
To Jim, looking down from the tower, it was as if half of the closest
pursuers had suddenly collapsed on the ground; and those still on their feet
had turned and were in panicky flight back down the road. The rearmost of
these also fell; but by the time they reached the bottom of the road, most of
the slingers had stopped whirling their slings and were looking to Sir
Mortimor for further orders.
Sir Mortimor shook his head.
He had evidently signaled for wine, and someone had brought it to him. He
stood with a mazer in his hand, nearly full with the red liquid, but was not
drinking from it. There was silence on the tower top.
Down below, however, the invaders were making enough noise for both sides.
Looking down from the battlements, Jim could see that most of them had crowded
into the little space between the houses of the village and the beginning of
the zigzag road up the slope. They howled and shook their weapons, looking
upward at the battlements. A few of them evidently had bows, for arrows flew
from among them, none getting any higher than three-quarters of the way up the
tower before hitting the stone sides and dropping back.
Not surprising, that, said Brian, watching beside Jim. Hard to judge the
distance to your mark looking so sharply up hill as this.
Sir Mortimor sipped at his mazer.
A few more arrows lofted into the air high enough to fall harmlessly onto the
tower top. Minutes went by, and gradually the noise below dwindled and
dwindled until there was silence there as well. Then a strong voice shouted
alone.
English knight! it called. Sir Mortimor, I know you are there. I am Abd ul
Hasan, and these are all my men. You cannot hope to hold out against us. I
would speak with you. Sir Mortimor. English knight. Show yourself at your
Page 57
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
battlements!
Watching from those same battlements, Brian with Jim saw the crowd below move
apart to reveal a single tall individual in a red turban and a long, flowing
white robe standing almost on the beginning of the road up the slope itself.
He was taller than most of those around him; but even from this height, Jim
could see that he was nowhere near the height of Sir Mortimor. His brown face
looked upward, waiting. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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The two galleys that had been mentioned were just now turning in, prow-first
toward the beach. It was clearly their intention to come in as close to the
land as possible. Indeed, they checked themselves and anchored not more than
ten or fifteen feet from shore; and now men were jumping overboard at the
prow, landing in water varying from waist deep to shoulder deep, and wading
ashore. They varied remarkably in both armor and the weapons they carried; but
most had a round, obviously wooden shield, and a curved sword-the latter
carried naked in their hand as they reached the shore.
No sooner was one out of the waves than he charged up the beach, shouting as
he went, toward the village and those still trying to escape up the road to
the castle.
There was no order to the way the attackers came, but very soon a good share
of them were on the land and already in among the villages. Jim had expected
to see the buildings there go up in flames almost immediately; but they did
not. Instead the attackers merely rushed through the structures in pursuit of
those trying to escape.
Slingers! said Sir Mortimor.
There were still only about half a dozen bowmen on top of the tower, but
possibly as many as three dozen of the other men. These lined the battlements
facing the beach, reached into their pouches, and drew forth a length of
doubled leather thong with a flat leather pad in the middle of it, which had
been poked or molded into a pocket. Digging again into their pouches, they
came up with dull slugs of some sort of metal. Each at his own rate of speed
fitted a slug into the pocket of his thong arrangement, took both ends of the
thong and began one-handedly whirling the whole arrangement lightly in a
vertical circle, as they gazed down at the beach, the weight of the slug in
the pocket stretching the thong arrangement-which was evidently and clearly a
sling-to its fullest limits, so that it rotated like a solid wand in the hand
of each as he twirled it.
Never mind any that haven t reached at least to the bottom of the road,
said Sir Mortimor. Pick off those close to the villagers. Wait for my order.
The row of men stood apparently idly whirling their slings. It was not until
the first of the attackers were within a few steps of overtaking an old woman
who was lagging behind the rest of those frantically trying to reach safety,
before he gave the word; and by that time the section of the road that had
been left empty behind the villagers was now full of the Moroccan pirates.
Now! said Sir Mortimor and all together, as if it had been rehearsed, one
Page 56
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
end of each sling was let go, the slingers leaning forward all together as
they released their missiles-and, immediately, each slinger had another slug
out of his pouch, fitted it into the socket of his sling and was whirling it
again, slinging now as each one was ready.
Down below, the results were remarkable. From this height, of course, the
impact of the slugs was soundless and, unlike the strike of arrows, there was
nothing to be seen in the way of a shaft with feathers sticking out of the
person hit.
Balearic slingers! cried Brian with delight. They are Balearics, are they
not, Sir Mortimor?
For the most part, grunted Sir Mortimor, his eyes still on the situation
below. They have to be trained from boyhood, like those who use the longbow.
But some of these are cheaper, raised closer to hand, and from the standpoint
of a castle like mine, it is much easier to stock great amounts of the slugs
they throw, than the carefully made arrows a bowman must use, and which
usually cannot be recovered when a castle is being attacked and possibly
besieged. Also, they have not the range of the longbow, but at short distances
like this they are wonderfully effective.
Effective indeed! said Brian.
And so they were.
To Jim, looking down from the tower, it was as if half of the closest
pursuers had suddenly collapsed on the ground; and those still on their feet
had turned and were in panicky flight back down the road. The rearmost of
these also fell; but by the time they reached the bottom of the road, most of
the slingers had stopped whirling their slings and were looking to Sir
Mortimor for further orders.
Sir Mortimor shook his head.
He had evidently signaled for wine, and someone had brought it to him. He
stood with a mazer in his hand, nearly full with the red liquid, but was not
drinking from it. There was silence on the tower top.
Down below, however, the invaders were making enough noise for both sides.
Looking down from the battlements, Jim could see that most of them had crowded
into the little space between the houses of the village and the beginning of
the zigzag road up the slope. They howled and shook their weapons, looking
upward at the battlements. A few of them evidently had bows, for arrows flew
from among them, none getting any higher than three-quarters of the way up the
tower before hitting the stone sides and dropping back.
Not surprising, that, said Brian, watching beside Jim. Hard to judge the
distance to your mark looking so sharply up hill as this.
Sir Mortimor sipped at his mazer.
A few more arrows lofted into the air high enough to fall harmlessly onto the
tower top. Minutes went by, and gradually the noise below dwindled and
dwindled until there was silence there as well. Then a strong voice shouted
alone.
English knight! it called. Sir Mortimor, I know you are there. I am Abd ul
Hasan, and these are all my men. You cannot hope to hold out against us. I
would speak with you. Sir Mortimor. English knight. Show yourself at your
Page 57
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
battlements!
Watching from those same battlements, Brian with Jim saw the crowd below move
apart to reveal a single tall individual in a red turban and a long, flowing
white robe standing almost on the beginning of the road up the slope itself.
He was taller than most of those around him; but even from this height, Jim
could see that he was nowhere near the height of Sir Mortimor. His brown face
looked upward, waiting. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]