Ole Devil at San Jacinto (Old Devil Hardin Western Book 4) (19 page)

‘
I’ll
have to make them
move,’ the little Oriental concluded, extracting the extreme left
shaft from the quiver. ‘And this ought to do it.’

‘
It ought,’ Ole Devil agreed, having
identified the arrow’s type from the shape of its head and knowing
its purpose. ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’

‘
Only one thing,’ Tommy replied,
donning the quiver. ‘Make sure that no dishonorable person comes up
behind unworthy self before I’ve finished.’

Taking up the bow with his left
hand, the little Oriental made it ready for the task he was about
to commence. Holding the
wata-kusi
in his right palm, so that the shaft pointed down
at a rearwards angle, he fixed the nock of the second arrow to the
string. Then he returned along the gap until he was as near the end
as possible without allowing himself to be seen from the marquee or
by anybody on either side of the wagons.

Drawing the bow with a technique
far different to that employed by Occidental archers,
^xli
Tommy halted the rearwards motion
when the hollow point of the forty inches long arrow was almost
touching the extended forefinger of his left hand. In the very
formalized
Zen
style of
kyudo,
hitting the target was considered secondary to the correct
movements of the arms, bow, arrow and cloak. So taking sight and
loosing could require anything from five to twenty minutes.
However, the little Oriental was a practical warrior and not
indulging in the placid artistry of
Zen.
The aim he took, while careful, was
swift.

By releasing his hold on the
string and the nock of the shaft, Tommy allowed the bow’s powerful
flexed limbs to propel the missile forward. Almost immediately, the
special function of the
hiki-ya
point made itself known in no uncertain fashion.
In addition to being hollow, the head had holes drilled along its
sides like those of a flute. Once it was in flight, the air passing
through them acted in the same way as blowing into the mouthpiece
of the musical instrument.

One advantage gained by having
the handle set two thirds of the way down the stave, as opposed to
centrally in the fashion of other countries, was that such a
position made it possible for men of comparatively short stature to
wield such lengthy and puissant bows. Another was that it allowed
an arrow to be dispatched with very flat trajectory over
considerable distances.
^xlii

However, on this occasion, Tommy directed
his shaft upwards at a gentle angle and did not make use of the
latter quality.

Hearing the rising crescendo of
the whistling caused by the air being forced through the
hiki-ya’s
holes, the men at
the table looked around. Before they could discover what was making
the eerie noise, the arrow passed over their heads almost too
quickly for the human eye to follow. Slitting the canvas, it
disappeared out of the marquee’s roof and the sound died away as
its pace decelerated until it fell to the ground.

Although used primarily for
signaling, the
hiki-ya’s
banshee-like wailing whistle could also be employed in the
hope of producing a disturbing psychological effect upon the
enemy.

Tommy’s arrow achieved the secondary
function to his entire satisfaction!

Chairs went flying and crockery or glasses
were discarded, regardless of their value, as the occupants of the
marquee rose hurriedly and in alarm.

None of the party were sure of
what had happened, but all sensed that it presaged some kind of
danger. Every man’s concern was to find a safe place, rather than
trying to discover who
—or what—was threatening him. So each adopted his
own method of trying to evade whatever further peril might be
forthcoming. The erstwhile relaxed and jovial group disintegrated
into individual bodies flinging themselves away from the no longer
attractive open flaps in the wall.

Displaying the kind of rapid thought and
action which had helped bring him to his position of power and
authority, Santa Anna wasted neither a second nor a motion when the
guests who had been between himself and the unseen menace sprang in
opposite directions and left him exposed. Without worrying about
the damage he would inflict upon his highly prized property, he
overturned the table and flung himself flat on the ground behind
it. While the wood was thin and would offer only minimal
protection, he was at least hidden from the mysterious assailant’s
view.

El Presidente
had not taken his
evasive action any too soon!

Allowing the second arrow to
slip forward through his grasp as soon as the first one was in
flight, Tommy nocked it to the string. He was trained to shoot
almost as rapidly as the legendary Wasa Daichera,
and, although he was
under the stresses of being in combat, the conditions were not so
exacting as when the great
Samurai kyudoka
had performed the famous feat at
the
Sanju-San-Gen Do
temple in the city of Kyoto.

In spite of hearing startled
shouts rising from the tents occupied by Santa Anna’s bodyguard,
and the sounds of sentries raising the alarm from their posts on
the other three sides of the marquee, Tommy refused to be
flustered. He drew and, changing his point of aim to attain a flat
trajectory, loosed the shaft. This time there was only a savage
hiss which seemed almost muted when compared with the ear-piercing
screech of the
hiki-ya.
Flying almost parallel to the ground, the arrow struck just
above the center of the table which was sheltering
el
Presidente.
It punched through the wood and flew on, but its momentum
was so reduced that it was stopped as the three hawk feathers of
the fletching struck the canvas of the wall at the back of the
marquee.

Pandemonium reigned both outside and within
Santa Anna’s quarters, but none of his guests offered to leave and
investigate. The protection offered by the striped walls of the
tent might be inadequate, but at least it served to keep those
inside concealed from the archer in the darkness.

As he saw the first of the
sentries run around the end of the marquee, Tommy reached for
another arrow. Pure chance rather than deliberate intent made him
select another
wata-kusi.
Clearly a man of quick thought and discernment, the Dragoon
started to make for the wagons instead of going to the open flaps
to ask for instructions from his superiors.

Once more, without needing to look down,
Tommy went through the process of fitting the nock to the string
and supporting the shaft of the arrow against the bow’s handle by
resting it on the base of his left thumb. By the time he had
completed his draw and aim, the sentry was close enough to be able
to see him. Skidding to a halt and giving a startled exclamation,
the soldier started to raise his carbine.

Forward darted the little
Oriental’s arrow. It took the Dragoon in the right breast before he
could raise his weapon high enough for use. A scream of agony burst
from him as he twirled helplessly round. The arrow had impaled him
so thoroughly that only the fletching protruded from the front of
his torso and the
wata-kusi
point extended far behind his back. The carbine slipped
from his hands and they clutched spasmodically at the feathered
remnant of the missile which was all he could reach. Sprawling to
the ground, he lay shrieking and writhing in torment for a few
seconds before becoming limp and motionless.

Turning as he was nocking yet a
fourth arrow, this time tipped by a
yanagi-ha
point, Tommy ran back to where Ole Devil
was waiting. Unlike the guard whom he had replaced, the Texian was
watching his front and holding the Browning in a position of
readiness. As his companion approached, he turned his head for the
first time and allowed himself a brief, inquiring
glance.

‘
It worked,’ the little
Oriental said, but did not offer any further
explanation.
Nor did Ole Devil waste time by requesting one. Instead, he
set off with Tommy in the direction of the creek. They went so
swiftly and silently that nobody noticed them taking their
departure. Behind them, all was confusion.

From various points in the encampment,
regimental buglers were blowing the call to arms and drummers were
helping to sound the alarm.

Men bellowed questions which
nobody troubled to answer,
or shouted orders that were ignored.

On the picket lines,
particularly those of the Popocatapetl Dragoons
—who were closest to the
disturbance—the startled horses were demanding
attention.

Neither of the remaining
Dragoons on sentry duty, nor such of the kitchen staff who arrived
to investigate, s
howed the grasp of the situation and the initiative of the
man whose diligence had been rewarded by impalement with an arrow,
Instead of attempting to seek out the intruders, they did nothing
more constructive than congregate at the entrance to the marquee
and goggle at the occupants, waiting to be told what to do. No
instructions would be given until it was far too late for them to
be of any use.

So it was no wonder that Ole Devil and Tommy
made good their escape without encountering the slightest
difficulty or the need to use their weapons again that night.

But had the mission achieved its
purpose?

Apparently, despite the
forethought and skill with which Tommy Okasi had caused
Presidente
Antonio Lopez de
Santa Anna to be exposed before his bow and arrow, the plan had
failed.

Raising his head after several
seconds had passed without any further missiles bursting through
his inadequate shelter,
el Presidente
found himself looking at the hole about an inch in
diameter which had not been in the center of the table when he had
overturned it. A shudder ran through him as he realized how close
he had been to death. The thought put motion into his
limbs.

Attaining a kneeling posture, Santa Anna
peered with great caution around the edge of the table. He did not
care for the sights which met his eyes. Passing over the broken
china and shattered wine glasses on the ground, his cold stare took
in the retainers and sentries who were talking and gesticulating at
the entrance to the marquee. Then he glared from side to side,
noticing the inactivity of his guests. Without leaving his place of
concealment, he began to give vent to the wrath aroused by the
discovery that nothing was being done to avenge his narrow escape
from death.

‘
Get outside, all of
you!’
el Presidente
thundered, but he did not offer to rise and set an
example. ‘Move lively, damn you, or I’ll make you wish you had. Go
and get whoever tried to kill me!’

All the assembled staff officers exchanged
alarmed glances. Their military duties were so exalted of late that
it was only rarely any of them were called upon to face physical
danger. In fact, with a few exceptions, they had even avoided
taking more than a long range supervisory participation throughout
the siege at the Alamo Mission. So not one of the party was eager
to go forth and brave the dangers of the night.

For several seconds, the
guests
’ fear
of the unknown menace outside—induced in part by the psychological
effect of the
hiki-ya
point’s eerie passage through the marquee—warred against
their knowledge of how virulent their superior’s wrath could be
when something happened to arouse his ire.

The latter won!

El Presidente’s
subordinates
decided, without consultation between them, that it would be more
politic to take their chances by obeying him, than face the
consequences of a refusal. They also realized that, even if the
mysterious assailant had not been frightened away now the alarm had
been raised, he would be confused by the multiplicity of targets
that a mass exodus would present. So, with one exception, they made
for the open flaps. On passing through, each tried to keep as much
of his own person as possible concealed behind some other member of
the group.

Laudable as such motives might be, they were
unnecessary. The intruders against whom the precautions were being
taken were already some distance away and had no intention of
returning.

‘
Are you all right, Your
Excellency?’ asked the guest who had not joined in the departure,
hurrying towards the table with an air of solicitude. ‘You weren’t
hit, were you,
patron
?’

Plump to the point of obesity,
bespectacled and perspiring freely, for all the speaker’s military
raiment, he did not have the look of a hardened fighting soldier.
Nor did his grimy hands and slovenly appearance give any clue to
his exact status as a member of
el Presidente’s
staff. However, his bearing as he
approached his irate superior, was that of a man who was solely
concerned with carrying out his primary duty and so had no time to
waste on less important tasks. Although he was also motivated by a
reluctance to go outside where danger might still be lurking, he
was in fact performing his main function by inquiring after Santa
Anna’s state of health.