the godown that served as the Residency's armoury. They were just in time. As they rounded the godown they saw the strut securing the wooden door shake with the impact of a heavy blow from an axe or a makeshift battering ram. The lone sentry was lying prone on the ground with blood seeping from a head wound. 'Quick, Ilderim!' said George. 'I'll hold them off while you find something to bolster the door.'
While Ilderim searched, George raised his Snider to the small gap between the door and the wall and fired. A scream was followed by a volley of return shots, causing George to hurl himself sideways out of the line of fire. 'Ilderim!' he shouted. 'Hurry!'
'I'm coming, huzoor !' The big Ghilzai appeared from the back of the godown, dragging a large bullock-cart, known as a hackery, and with George's help placed it against the damaged door.
'Well done, Ilderim. That should hold it for now.'
A great boom sounded. Door and hackery exploded inwards in a maelstrom of flame, dust and flying timbers, knocking both George and Ilderim off their feet. George's last memory before he lost consciousness was of lying on his back, looking up at a sky filled with smoke and burning sparks. When he came to the smell of burning flesh and hair filled his nostrils, and all he could hear, above a ringing in his ears, was his name being called. He opened his eyes to see Ilderim's face, black with soot and dripping blood from many tiny cuts.
' Huzoor , can you stand?'
'I think so.' With Ilderim's help, he staggered to his feet. His left thigh muscle screamed with pain - it had probably taken a blow from flying timber but the bone did not appear to be broken. His face was sore and bleeding, but otherwise he was unharmed. The smell of burning flesh, he now discovered, was coming from the sepoy's corpse, which lay pinned beneath a flaming hackery wheel. The rest of the cart had simply disappeared, as had the door beyond, leaving a jagged hole in the wall.
'They must have brought an artillery piece down from the citadel,' mumbled George, his senses still dulled by the explosion.
'Yes, huzoor , and it won't be long before they gird their loins to attack. I must get help. Can you hold a rifle?' asked Ilderim, handing George his own loaded Snider.
'Of course.'
'Take cover behind the godown and wait for my return.'
George did as Ilderim suggested, and was covering the hole in the wall when a bearded mutineer poked his head through and, satisfied the gap was undefended, signalled to his comrades to join him. All the while George was glancing back and praying that Ilderim would hurry. He knew that if he fired he would never have the chance to reload, and would be forced to rely on his revolver, which was useless for anything beyond point-blank range. But still there was no sign of Ilderim and, with more mutineers in the doorway, it was now or never. George fixed his sights on the foremost mutineer and fired, the bullet hitting the man in the chest and driving him backwards into his comrades. As George tried desperately to reload, his fingers scrabbling to open the packet of rolled-brass cartridges in his ammunition pouch, the mutineers spotted him and charged.
Dropping the rifle, George drew his pistol and was about to fire when a fusillade of shots slammed into the charging Afghans, dropping the trio in front and causing the others to turn tail. George looked back to see Ilderim rise up from one knee and run forward. Behind him came a bandaged Cavagnari, Hamilton, Jenkyns and four sepoys. Cavagnari stopped next to George while the others covered the gap in the wall. 'You all right, Harper? Your face is a little singed.'
'I'm surprised you can tell,' said George, with a grin. 'It was courtesy of the mutineers' field gun.'
A loud bang - and another section of the wall disintegrated into yet more smoke, dust and flying masonry. George and Cavagnari ducked. 'Right on cue, sir,' said George. 'We've got to disable it. If we don't, it'll blow our
While Ilderim searched, George raised his Snider to the small gap between the door and the wall and fired. A scream was followed by a volley of return shots, causing George to hurl himself sideways out of the line of fire. 'Ilderim!' he shouted. 'Hurry!'
'I'm coming, huzoor !' The big Ghilzai appeared from the back of the godown, dragging a large bullock-cart, known as a hackery, and with George's help placed it against the damaged door.
'Well done, Ilderim. That should hold it for now.'
A great boom sounded. Door and hackery exploded inwards in a maelstrom of flame, dust and flying timbers, knocking both George and Ilderim off their feet. George's last memory before he lost consciousness was of lying on his back, looking up at a sky filled with smoke and burning sparks. When he came to the smell of burning flesh and hair filled his nostrils, and all he could hear, above a ringing in his ears, was his name being called. He opened his eyes to see Ilderim's face, black with soot and dripping blood from many tiny cuts.
' Huzoor , can you stand?'
'I think so.' With Ilderim's help, he staggered to his feet. His left thigh muscle screamed with pain - it had probably taken a blow from flying timber but the bone did not appear to be broken. His face was sore and bleeding, but otherwise he was unharmed. The smell of burning flesh, he now discovered, was coming from the sepoy's corpse, which lay pinned beneath a flaming hackery wheel. The rest of the cart had simply disappeared, as had the door beyond, leaving a jagged hole in the wall.
'They must have brought an artillery piece down from the citadel,' mumbled George, his senses still dulled by the explosion.
'Yes, huzoor , and it won't be long before they gird their loins to attack. I must get help. Can you hold a rifle?' asked Ilderim, handing George his own loaded Snider.
'Of course.'
'Take cover behind the godown and wait for my return.'
George did as Ilderim suggested, and was covering the hole in the wall when a bearded mutineer poked his head through and, satisfied the gap was undefended, signalled to his comrades to join him. All the while George was glancing back and praying that Ilderim would hurry. He knew that if he fired he would never have the chance to reload, and would be forced to rely on his revolver, which was useless for anything beyond point-blank range. But still there was no sign of Ilderim and, with more mutineers in the doorway, it was now or never. George fixed his sights on the foremost mutineer and fired, the bullet hitting the man in the chest and driving him backwards into his comrades. As George tried desperately to reload, his fingers scrabbling to open the packet of rolled-brass cartridges in his ammunition pouch, the mutineers spotted him and charged.
Dropping the rifle, George drew his pistol and was about to fire when a fusillade of shots slammed into the charging Afghans, dropping the trio in front and causing the others to turn tail. George looked back to see Ilderim rise up from one knee and run forward. Behind him came a bandaged Cavagnari, Hamilton, Jenkyns and four sepoys. Cavagnari stopped next to George while the others covered the gap in the wall. 'You all right, Harper? Your face is a little singed.'
'I'm surprised you can tell,' said George, with a grin. 'It was courtesy of the mutineers' field gun.'
A loud bang - and another section of the wall disintegrated into yet more smoke, dust and flying masonry. George and Cavagnari ducked. 'Right on cue, sir,' said George. 'We've got to disable it. If we don't, it'll blow our
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