"Tom Purdom-Dragon Drill" - читать интересную книгу автора (Purdom Tom)

had only one purpose in life: the preservation of a state which possessed no natural defensive boundaries.
His father's brutal attempts to transform Fritz into a soldier had become one of the great scandals of the
European courts. When he had tried to escape his father's torments at the age of eighteen, the prince had
been imprisoned for a year and forced to watch when his best friend was beheaded.
Alsten was clearly a scholar by nature. He gushed with enthusiasm when he described the wonders he
had discovered in libraries and the specimens he had carried home from his sojourns in the mountains. He
had been planted, however, in a family in which duty and discipline were the only virtues the father could
understand.
"Well, my young friend," von Wogenfer said, "soon you, too, will have a few tales of death and daring
you can parade in front of the recruits."
Alsten smiled stiffly. Von Wogenfer noted the flicker of anxiety in his eyes and pointed at the pencil
case and writing board the young man had arranged across his saddle horn.
"Make sure you get it all down," von Wogenfer said. "Be ready to give me your best advice the
moment I ask for it."
He turned his head to the right, to inspect the cannon he had placed on that flank, and wondered if
Alsten would someday realize his commander's brusqueness had been meant as a kindness. The first time
von Wogenfer had advanced with his regiment, he had nearly been overwhelmed by fear and confusion.
The only thing that had kept him moving was the knowledge he had a specific task. He was there to
oversee his platoon, the forty men marching in front of him. If they marched and fired and arrived at their
goal, then he had done all anyone asked of him.
As usual, the roads had delayed the equipment he needed the most. His artillery consisted of exactly
three pieces -- two six-pounders and a single horse-drawn gun. He had deployed one six-pounder at
each end of the cavalry line, so the two gun crews could cover every spot on the hillside. The horse gun
had been posted near his own place in the line, where he could transmit his orders to its officer, Captain
Hoff, without dispatching a messenger.
The crews of the two six-pounders had lit their portfires -- the slow-burning fuses, attached to long
rods, that the gunners would apply to their touch holes when they received the order to fire. Behind each
six-pounder, about ten steps behind the trail of the gun carriage, a full company of grenadiers had fallen
into formation. Both companies snapped to attention when their captains realized their general was
looking them over.
Three young lieutenants were sitting their horses behind him, ready to act as couriers. He gave them a
polite, carefully measured nod and they straightened up and did their best to look businesslike.
Alsten coughed discreetly. A stir passed through the ranks. Von Wogenfer looked to the front,
knowing what the stir must mean, and saw the thing for the first time.
For a moment, it looked like a large bird that happened to be holding some kind of wiggling, still-living
prey suspended from its claws. Then he noted its relationship to the horizon and realized how far away it
really was. The shape it appeared to be carrying was its own body, hanging from slowly flapping wings.
He murmured a command and the sergeant standing beside his horse handed him his telescope. By the
time the tube had been extended and focused, the creature was so close he had to run the glass along its
sides as if he was studying the walls of a fortress.
Sunlight bounced off scales that looked as if they could have been employed as cuirasses. He moved
the instrument to the left and the center of an immense red eye filled the field.
He lowered the telescope and watched it approach. In the formation massed around the stake,
sergeants were already ordering their men to stand fast. A young grenadier lieutenant looked back at him
and he automatically gave the poor fool a frown that returned him to his proper interests.
A shadow swept across the hill. Horses neighed. Voices barked commands. Von Wogenfer passed
the telescope to his sergeant and steadied his horse with both hands.
The thing let out a strange, quavering shriek. It turned in a great arc and von Wogenfer felt the first chill
of superstitious fear spread through his body.
How could a thing like that fly? Its body was slender and snakelike but it would have filled the inside