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Duffy took advantage of the distraction to strike the head off one Turk with a
whirling chop, axe-
style. A moment later there were two landsknechten beside him and one
hard-pressed Turk in front;
then that one turned and was running, along with perhaps a dozen other
remaining Janissaries.
'Let them go!' boomed the deep voice of von Salm. 'Advance at a walk to the
place they held!'
A walk was all Duffy could have done anyway. He managed to lift and sheathe
his weapons, and
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forward, panting, lacking the strength to reach up and wipe the froth from his
lips.
In a few minutes they stood on the wall-topped rise. Ignoring an admonitory
bark from von Salm, Duffy sat down on the masonry and stared back at the high
walls of Vienna. The city looked impossibly safe and far away. If Suleiman
orders a vigorous counter-charge now, he thought dully, the knights would make
it back, but damned few of the landsknechten. I wouldn't make it, for damned
sure.
He heard a heavy, multiple-clank thud and looked behind him. One of the
knights had fallen from his horse, though whether from a wound or
heat-prostration Duffy couldn't tell. 'Strip off his armor,' von Salm ordered.
The count had raised his visor, and with his red, sweat gleaming face looked
on the verge of heat-prostration himself.
Do we have time?' one of the mercenaries asked anxiously. The silence was
beginning to weigh heavily on the small, isolated group. 'We could just carry
him -'Damn it, will you.. .obey me?'
With a shrug the mercenary squatted and began tugging at the straps and
buckles. He was quickly joined by two of his fellows, and in a few moments
they had unfastened all the armor - revealing the knight to be dead, of a
thrust in the side between the breast and back plates.
'Very well,' said von Salm wearily. 'Now untie these two bombs, join their
fuses and splice a length of match-cord to them. I want a long fuse.'
The dozen retreating Janissaries had reached the Turkish lines, and there
seemed to be activity there. What is he clowning with? Duffy wondered
impatiently. This is a time for retreating, not cleverness.
'Good,' said the count. 'Now reassemble that armor with the bombs inside.' He
looked at the knight beside him. 'I had planned only to demolish this wall,
but possibly we can lure in an eager Moslem or two as well.'
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When the sweating footsoldiers had done as he ordered, and leaned the suit of
armor in a standing position against the wall, von Salm had them light the
cord that dangled from the empty helmet.
'Back home now!' he called. 'At a leisurely pace, landsknechten flanking.'
Duffy had almost completely got his breath back, and walked around the
assembling horses to where
Eilif's company was regathering. Eilif stood apparently unscathed at the
front, but Duffy didn't see Bobo. The Irishman got in line and just stared at
the ground, channeling all his attention into the tasks of breathing and
relaxing his cramped hands.
'I see you've made it so far,' came a voice from beside him.
He raised his head. It was the young man of the mandrake root, his clothes
dusty and torn and his face already showing bruises, but evidently unhurt.
'Oh, aye.' He looked the young man up and down. 'I warned you about those
clothes, if you recall. And I see you lost your magicus.'
'My what?'
'Your root, your mandrake charm.' He pointed at the lad's undecorated belt.
The young man looked down, startled, saw it was true and pressed his lips
together. He stretched on tip-toe to see von Satin, off to his right, and
muttered, 'When are they going to get us moving?'
Before Duffy could answer, von Satin had flicked the reins of his horse and
the several columns got under way, marching at a slow, easy walk west, toward
the high city walls.
Though he had always been as at home in forests or at sea as in cities, the
twelve-day confinement of the siege had given the Irishman something of the
habitual city-dweller's point of view; it now felt unnatural to be seeing the
walls of the city from the outside - an unnatural perspective, like looking up
at the hull of a ship from under water, or seeing the back of one's own head.
They tramped on and the walls slowly drew nearer and still they heard no
wailing battle cries or thunder of hooves from behind. Duffy could recognize
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