Read Online Casca 18: The Cursed by Barry Sadler - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barry Sadler
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protection.
What he got for the horse and arms and what he still had in his pouch would nicely complement his sergeant's pay. And if the consul wanted to retrieve what he had cached at Ju Liqun's house, well, Casca would be happy to lead an armed force to the village of Shou Chang to recover it.
There was going to be great strife between the village and Zhang Jintao over the disappearance of his tax collector, surely a sufficient uproar to satisfy the consul's predictions of dire troubles. And the appearance in the village of a British army force might well set off enough fireworks to ignite the whole countryside and get the consul the attention from Whitehall that he so earnestly craved.
Yes, Casca thought, it should all work out pretty nicely for me.
The thought was still running through his mind when he suddenly found himself flying through the air over the horse's head.
And when he came to alongside the horse, still struggling to rise on a broken leg, his last thought rolled through his mind again. But somehow this time it didn't seem to fit quite so neatly. There were all sorts of jagged edges to the idea, like the splintered pieces of bone he could now see showing through the flesh of his horse's leg.
And there seemed to be altogether too much noise.
Gradually the focus of Casca's mind cleared and he recalled the horse stumbling on the rutted roadway. Then he realized that he was not alone. Not at all alone, he discovered with a start as he recognized the noise as men's voices and the stamping of hooves, and saw the many horses' legs around where he lay in the road.
His horse snorted violently, then lay still, and Casca realized that one of the riders who surrounded him had driven a lance through its heart.
A painful throb started up in his head, and another in his left wrist. Through the pain, the voices that he could hear started to become clear.
His eyes roved over the horses and riders before him. They were almost identical with the imperial knights who had greeted him at the Jade Gate on his first visit to China in the time of the Roman Emperor Nero.
The horses' heads and necks were protected by padded silk. Gilded rivet heads told Casca that the silk was lined with interlocking metal plates. The saddle flaps, great disks of studded leather, protected the flanks, and a padded silk crupper covered the hind parts. The bridles were of leather, ornamented and protected with numerous tiny lacquered metal shields. The riders' gloves were of the same material, three shields to each finger, a dozen or so on the back of the hand, and more on the cuffs, which extended up the arms over the sleeves of armored shirts.
One rider was covered from neck to ankle in gold brocade embroidered in green and edged with black velvet. Hundreds of gilt rivet heads studded the brocade, securing the metal lining plates, and there were shoulder pieces in the shape of gilded dragons. His iron helmet was decorated with raised scrolls of gold, set with ruby, turquoise, and pink coral. Casca recalled that this indicated that he was an imperial baron, an official of the second class.
No mean thing to be a baron, even second class, thought Casca, who had once been one. There were only twelve thousand of them in all of China.
A long lance rested in a leather socket, beside it a round shield of studded leather, and a huge bow, the back of which was of horn, the ends bound in sharkskin. Casca remembered these bows, much larger than anything ever used in Europe, with an immensely heavy pull, extraordinary considering the small size of the archers. The quiver held many arrows, most of them about three feet long with heavy iron heads.
There was only one modern touch – the gun that hung in a holster alongside the lance. The gun barrel was about five feet long, but it ended in a pistol grip that would surely need two hands to hold. The end of the barrel was exposed, and there seemed to be no sight, but Casca could see that it was inlaid with
What he got for the horse and arms and what he still had in his pouch would nicely complement his sergeant's pay. And if the consul wanted to retrieve what he had cached at Ju Liqun's house, well, Casca would be happy to lead an armed force to the village of Shou Chang to recover it.
There was going to be great strife between the village and Zhang Jintao over the disappearance of his tax collector, surely a sufficient uproar to satisfy the consul's predictions of dire troubles. And the appearance in the village of a British army force might well set off enough fireworks to ignite the whole countryside and get the consul the attention from Whitehall that he so earnestly craved.
Yes, Casca thought, it should all work out pretty nicely for me.
The thought was still running through his mind when he suddenly found himself flying through the air over the horse's head.
And when he came to alongside the horse, still struggling to rise on a broken leg, his last thought rolled through his mind again. But somehow this time it didn't seem to fit quite so neatly. There were all sorts of jagged edges to the idea, like the splintered pieces of bone he could now see showing through the flesh of his horse's leg.
And there seemed to be altogether too much noise.
Gradually the focus of Casca's mind cleared and he recalled the horse stumbling on the rutted roadway. Then he realized that he was not alone. Not at all alone, he discovered with a start as he recognized the noise as men's voices and the stamping of hooves, and saw the many horses' legs around where he lay in the road.
His horse snorted violently, then lay still, and Casca realized that one of the riders who surrounded him had driven a lance through its heart.
A painful throb started up in his head, and another in his left wrist. Through the pain, the voices that he could hear started to become clear.
His eyes roved over the horses and riders before him. They were almost identical with the imperial knights who had greeted him at the Jade Gate on his first visit to China in the time of the Roman Emperor Nero.
The horses' heads and necks were protected by padded silk. Gilded rivet heads told Casca that the silk was lined with interlocking metal plates. The saddle flaps, great disks of studded leather, protected the flanks, and a padded silk crupper covered the hind parts. The bridles were of leather, ornamented and protected with numerous tiny lacquered metal shields. The riders' gloves were of the same material, three shields to each finger, a dozen or so on the back of the hand, and more on the cuffs, which extended up the arms over the sleeves of armored shirts.
One rider was covered from neck to ankle in gold brocade embroidered in green and edged with black velvet. Hundreds of gilt rivet heads studded the brocade, securing the metal lining plates, and there were shoulder pieces in the shape of gilded dragons. His iron helmet was decorated with raised scrolls of gold, set with ruby, turquoise, and pink coral. Casca recalled that this indicated that he was an imperial baron, an official of the second class.
No mean thing to be a baron, even second class, thought Casca, who had once been one. There were only twelve thousand of them in all of China.
A long lance rested in a leather socket, beside it a round shield of studded leather, and a huge bow, the back of which was of horn, the ends bound in sharkskin. Casca remembered these bows, much larger than anything ever used in Europe, with an immensely heavy pull, extraordinary considering the small size of the archers. The quiver held many arrows, most of them about three feet long with heavy iron heads.
There was only one modern touch – the gun that hung in a holster alongside the lance. The gun barrel was about five feet long, but it ended in a pistol grip that would surely need two hands to hold. The end of the barrel was exposed, and there seemed to be no sight, but Casca could see that it was inlaid with
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