Read Online Jango by William Nicholson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: William Nicholson
Ads: Link
to the two hooded men. He spoke a little more with them, then returned.
"They say the same as before, Excellency."
The Jahan became angry.
"Then seize them!" he ordered. "Drag them before me on their knees!"
The officer beckoned to two of his men, and all three rode onto the bridge, unhitching their whips as they did so. Echo watched, dreading what would now follow. She saw the whips curl out, snapping in the air. But the two hooded men were just beyond the reach of the whips and were not touched. The three Orlans rode closer, and the whips cracked all round them but failed to connect with their targets. A murmur rose up from the ranks of mounted men, and some good-natured jibes were called out to the three on the bridge.
"Open your eyes, soldiers!"
But still the whips snapped harmlessly in midair.
Now the riders could be seen to be close to the two hooded men and to be exchanging words with them. Then they turned and rode back. The Jahan glowered at them.
"Why have you not done as I ordered?"
"Why, Excellency?" The men seemed confused. "We thought—we thought—it seemed best to leave them alone."
"Arrest these three!" said the Jahan, with an abrupt wave of one hand. The unfortunate men were led away.
"Which company is in the van?"
"The Sixteenth, Excellency."
"Tell the captain of the Sixteenth to charge the bridge."
"You wish them brought back alive, Excellency?"
"No. Make an example of them."
Echo watched as the company of twenty men and horses formed four lines, packed close, jostling and rubbing against one another. At the first command, the men drew their short curved swords. At the second command, falling into pace, the company set off at a canter towards the bridge.
The horses rose and fell together as they moved, in a beautiful display. As they quickened their pace and hit full gallop, the twenty melted into a single thunderclap roaring over the land, their raised swords flashing like lightning as they went.
The two barefoot hooded men on the bridge stood still and watched the charge sweep towards them and did not flinch. The villagers behind them fell silent with apprehension. As the horses' hooves struck the booming boards of the bridge, the riders let out wild howling cries and braced themselves for the impact and the kill.
The two hooded men made a slight movement—the bridge shuddered—and the compact squad of Orlan warriors burst apart. They exploded outwards, horses rearing, twisting, leaping. Men were tossed from their mounts, some falling, some skidding sideways and toppling over the low parapet into the river, some turning about, spinning in confusion, until they were facing back the way they had come.
When the cries of men and horses had faded, and the last of the bewildered Orlans had pulled themselves from the tangle of crashed riders and limped back off the bridge, there stood the two hooded men for all to see, as still as before, untouched. Each had one hand raised before him, with two fingers extended. But they had made no move. They had stood on the bridge like rocks in the river, and the charge of the Orlans had broken against them.
Echo Kittle saw, and she felt the same awe that she saw on every face round her. She turned to look at the Great Jahan. He stood raised on his carriage, staring impassively at the bridge, his face giving away no emotion. His sons, riding just behind him, were exchanging glances. Then Sasha Jahan spoke.
"Send me, Father!"
Then Alva Jahan called out, more loudly.
"Send me, Father!"
Amroth Jahan shook his head. Moving slowly, he stepped down from the carriage and strode towards the bridge. He had given no orders to his sons or to the rest of his army, so no one moved. But Echo, who was not a warrior under his command, slipped forward through the frozen ranks and followed him to the start of the bridge.
There she halted and watched as the Jahan strode over the boards to the two hooded men. The immense army behind her was silent, as were the
"They say the same as before, Excellency."
The Jahan became angry.
"Then seize them!" he ordered. "Drag them before me on their knees!"
The officer beckoned to two of his men, and all three rode onto the bridge, unhitching their whips as they did so. Echo watched, dreading what would now follow. She saw the whips curl out, snapping in the air. But the two hooded men were just beyond the reach of the whips and were not touched. The three Orlans rode closer, and the whips cracked all round them but failed to connect with their targets. A murmur rose up from the ranks of mounted men, and some good-natured jibes were called out to the three on the bridge.
"Open your eyes, soldiers!"
But still the whips snapped harmlessly in midair.
Now the riders could be seen to be close to the two hooded men and to be exchanging words with them. Then they turned and rode back. The Jahan glowered at them.
"Why have you not done as I ordered?"
"Why, Excellency?" The men seemed confused. "We thought—we thought—it seemed best to leave them alone."
"Arrest these three!" said the Jahan, with an abrupt wave of one hand. The unfortunate men were led away.
"Which company is in the van?"
"The Sixteenth, Excellency."
"Tell the captain of the Sixteenth to charge the bridge."
"You wish them brought back alive, Excellency?"
"No. Make an example of them."
Echo watched as the company of twenty men and horses formed four lines, packed close, jostling and rubbing against one another. At the first command, the men drew their short curved swords. At the second command, falling into pace, the company set off at a canter towards the bridge.
The horses rose and fell together as they moved, in a beautiful display. As they quickened their pace and hit full gallop, the twenty melted into a single thunderclap roaring over the land, their raised swords flashing like lightning as they went.
The two barefoot hooded men on the bridge stood still and watched the charge sweep towards them and did not flinch. The villagers behind them fell silent with apprehension. As the horses' hooves struck the booming boards of the bridge, the riders let out wild howling cries and braced themselves for the impact and the kill.
The two hooded men made a slight movement—the bridge shuddered—and the compact squad of Orlan warriors burst apart. They exploded outwards, horses rearing, twisting, leaping. Men were tossed from their mounts, some falling, some skidding sideways and toppling over the low parapet into the river, some turning about, spinning in confusion, until they were facing back the way they had come.
When the cries of men and horses had faded, and the last of the bewildered Orlans had pulled themselves from the tangle of crashed riders and limped back off the bridge, there stood the two hooded men for all to see, as still as before, untouched. Each had one hand raised before him, with two fingers extended. But they had made no move. They had stood on the bridge like rocks in the river, and the charge of the Orlans had broken against them.
Echo Kittle saw, and she felt the same awe that she saw on every face round her. She turned to look at the Great Jahan. He stood raised on his carriage, staring impassively at the bridge, his face giving away no emotion. His sons, riding just behind him, were exchanging glances. Then Sasha Jahan spoke.
"Send me, Father!"
Then Alva Jahan called out, more loudly.
"Send me, Father!"
Amroth Jahan shook his head. Moving slowly, he stepped down from the carriage and strode towards the bridge. He had given no orders to his sons or to the rest of his army, so no one moved. But Echo, who was not a warrior under his command, slipped forward through the frozen ranks and followed him to the start of the bridge.
There she halted and watched as the Jahan strode over the boards to the two hooded men. The immense army behind her was silent, as were the
Similar Books
