Chapter Sixteen
I saw my error as soon as it happened. The riverbank being taller than the boat, our gunners couldn't see over it. They didn't see the horde that was coming until it was on top of us. I should have put observers up there. To add to our problems, while our helmets offered excellent protection, you couldn't tilt your head back in them. The helmet and beaver clamped into a ring around the collar of the breast and back plates. The helmet could turn sideways, but not up and down. The only way to look up was to tilt your whole body. Most people rarely look up in any event.
I think the reason that we weren't all killed was that the Mongols stopped at the top of the embankment to let off a flight of arrows. This got our attention.
It also got me an arrow in the eye.
I staggered back, scattering the gold and silver I'd picked up, tripping over the wreckage of the pontoon bridge and falling into the freezing mud. For a moment, I couldn't figure out what happened, except that I couldn't see out of my right eye, and my left was blurry. The pain came a bit later.
I struggled to get up, but kept falling back into the slippery wreckage. I could hear the shouting and fighting around me, the peashooters and the swivel guns firing, but I couldn't seem to get untangled. I broke off the damn arrow and could see with my left eye, I guess it was only that the shaft was in the way.
I was on my left side, and suddenly I was surrounded by legs and boots. But those weren't army uniforms! I tried again to get up and something unseen bashed into me, knocking me down again into deeper water and mud. I fumbled for my pistol, brought it up and aimed at a huge gold belt buckle a yard away. The gun fired, but what with the slippery mud and all, it flew from my hand. There wasn't time to reload it anyway.
Someone slammed into my side and we went down in a heap. I managed to get hold of my sword, which was still tied to my wrist, rolled over onto my knees and jabbed someone with red pants in the groin. He went down, but I got another bash on the back of the head from somewhere. But while that helmet restricted visibility, it sure protected you! I don't know how many times that ring around my collar saved my life.
Then I heard an army rallying cry! I saw three pairs of red pants go down as a group and then suddenly I was being lifted up into the air by strong arms under each of my armpits.
'Can you walk, sir?' It was Captain Targ.
'I think so. How goes the battle?'
'Time for a strategic withdrawal, sir. Or in nonmilitary parlance, let's run away!'
'Okay. But don't leave any of our men behind! Not even if you know they're dead!'
'Right sir. Standard doctrine. Fall back to the boat! Don't leave our own men! Pick up our dead! Pass the word!'
The gunners above us were keeping most of the enemy from getting to us, but there wasn't anything they could do about those already on top of us. We were hard-pressed to keep up any sort of line, and in that damned mud, a saber had the advantage over a rapier. You couldn't get enough traction to lunge!
Fortunately, most of our men had axes and I had my sword. It was only the captain and his knights who had serious problems.
With only one eye, I still did my share. I think I must have killed a half dozen of the bastards, taking a dozen hits that would have killed me had I been wearing lesser armor. The stuff got in the way, but it was worth it.
In minutes, we weren't fighting in the mud anymore. We were fighting on top of the enemy dead, and that's treacherous footing. The Mongol sabers bounced off our armor, but many of them were armed with a spear that had a long, thin, triangular point, and that thing was a killer! Carried by a man on the run, or thrown at short range, they could punch right through our armor, and most of our serious casualties were caused by them.
Yet discipline and training held true for us. Our lines tightened up, our dead and wounded were put aboard and soon we were safe. I was next to the last man off the shore, and I would have been the last, except for the captain.
'My honors, sir. This is my company, and I'll be the last man off!'
He'd earned it, so I clambered aboard and let him follow me.
As Tadaos pulled the boat away from the shore, a medic took me inside and I was the last man to be hustled up to sick bay, even though I wanted to see what was going on topside. Medics have no respect for the wishes of a wounded man. They're all mother hens who are convinced that they know best.
He got my helmet off and tsk-tsked at my right eye.
'Have I lost it?' I said.
'No, sir, it missed the eyeball. But it stuck in the bone just to the right of it. You're going to have a scar, I'm afraid, but you'll see again. You were lucky.'
'I would have been a damn sight luckier if the arrow had missed!'
'There is that, sir.'
'Well, open that surgeon's kit' Get the arrowhead out, clean the wound, and sew it up! Didn't they teach you anything in medic's school?'
'I never sewed up an eye before, sir. In fact, I've never sewn up anything but dead animals in training.'
'Well, boy, now's your chance to learn! First, wash your hands in white lightning, and then wash around the wound as best you can.'
'Yes, sir.'
After a bit, I said, 'You got that done? Then get the pliers out of your kit and pull the arrowhead out. Better get somebody to hold my head still. It'll hurt, and I might flinch.'
'You, sir? Never!'
'I said get somebody to hold my head and stop acting like I'm God! That's an order!'
'Yes, sir, You're not God. Hey, Lezek! Give me a hand! Hold his head!'
'Now the pliers,' I said.
I don't know if I yelled or not, but I saw the most incredible visual display and I think I might have blacked out for a few moments.
'It's out, sir,' he said, holding the bloody thing so I could see it with my good eye. The right one still wasn't working, somehow.
'Good. Throw it away. That kind of souvenir I don't need. Now get a pair of tweezers and feel around in the wound for any bits of broken bone or any foreign matter.'
This time, I know I screamed. Having somebody feeling around inside of your head without anesthetics is no fun at all!
But he took his time at it and seemed to take out a few chunks of something. I wanted to tell him to leave some of the skull behind, but I thought better of it. I couldn't see what was happening and so I had to trust to the kid's judgment.
'I think that's all of it, sir.'
'Thank God! Now, clean it all out again with white lightning. Pour it right in.'
By now, the area was getting numb, and I didn't scream. I wanted to, you understand, but I could- hold it in.
'Okay. Now get out your sterile needle and thread and sew it up. Use nice neat little stitches, because if my wife doesn't like the job you did, she will make your life not worth living. Believe me. I know the woman.'
'Yes, sir. Try not to wince so much. It makes it hard to line the edges up.'
'I'll try.'
He put nine stitches in there. I counted,
'That's it, sir.'
'Well, bandage it up then, with some peat-bog moss next to the wound!'
'Yes, sir.'
Without adhesive tape, the thing had to be held on by wrapping gauze around my head and under my chin.
When he was done, I sat up.
