Young bloods - Scarrow Simon - Страница 32

Napoleon shrugged. 'Naturally.'

Alexander counted heads and then picked his friends and most of the bigger boys and left the rest to Napoleon. He stepped closer to his enemy and grinned. 'Until noon, Corsican. Then, battle commences and there'll be no mercy.'

'I didn't expect any,' Napoleon replied quietly. 'Nor should you.'

'Brave words. Let's see if you can live up to them.' Alexander shoved the yellow scarf into Napoleon's hands and turned to his followers. 'Come on! Over there!'

As they walked off Napoleon smiled and then faced his own side. There were nearly fifty of them gathered about him. He noted at once the uncertain expression in most of their faces. Some of the boys clearly resented being placed under his command and he realised that he must move quickly to establish his authority.

'Defences. We'll need good defences. Start rolling snow boulders at once. Bring them to the corner of the field. That's where we'll place our fortifications. To work!' Most of them moved off but a few stood and stared back at him in sullen disobedience. Napoleon's eyes flashed angrily as he thrust out his arm. 'Move!'

As they turned away and bent to their task, Napoleon breathed a sigh of relief, then looked for his friend.'Louis! Over here. Help me make the ammunition.'

The two worked quickly, packing the snow together in tight spheres, which they placed along the wall Napoleon had chosen for their base. As the first of his side struggled towards the corner of the field, shoving their snow boulders, Napoleon left Louis to continue making snowballs while he directed the construction of the defences.

The first line of defence was an arc laid across the corner of the field. In front of that Napoleon left a gap and then had his side construct two further lines of snow boulders, broken by two narrow gaps leading into the open space in front of the first wall. As soon as the foundations were laid, more boulders were placed on top and the joints filled in with loose snow, patted down to provide a firm, even surface. Snapping a long, nearly straight branch from one of the trees overhanging the wall, Napoleon knotted the end of the yellow scarf around one end and planted the banner behind the first wall so that it rose high above.

'They'll see that easily enough,' Louis pointed out.

'That's the general idea,' his friend replied quietly. 'Should be hard for them to resist.'

Napoleon glanced up at the college clock tower. 'Quarter of an hour left.We're nearly ready. Just a few more snow boulders to put in place and then I'll give the orders to our men.'

'Men?' Louis looked at him with an amused expression. 'Taking this a bit seriously, aren't you? It's just a game.'

'Game?' Napoleon pursed his lips. 'That's true. But isn't the point of a game that you should try your best to win?'

'I thought the point of a game was to have fun,' Louis rebuked him mildly.

Napoleon flashed him a smile. 'The fun is in the winning. Now get back to work on those snowballs. I want more reserves piled up inside the walls. Come on, Louis.There's not much time.'

As the other boys put the finishing touches to the defences, Napoleon retired behind the first wall and started to make his own special cache of snowballs. Glancing round to ensure that he was not being observed, he picked small loose chunks of masonry from the walls and packed snow tightly about them before arranging them in a line at the foot of the wall just in front of the banner. When he had finished Napoleon hurried round to the clear ground in the middle of his defences, took a deep breath and called his side to him.

He had a rough idea of the tactics he wanted to apply to the coming battle, and as he spoke, he became aware that the other boys, even the ones who had seemed willing to challenge his authority earlier, were listening to him intently and nodding their agreement to his schemes. Inside, Napoleon felt himself swelling with pride and at the same time there was a huge delight at the pleasure of being in command, of exercising his will over others. When he had finished he folded his arms.'You know your orders. Wait for the signals, carry them out precisely and the day is ours. We'll give Alexander de Fontaine a hiding he won't forget in a hurry!'

At that, someone cheered and the cry was taken up by the rest of the boys surrounding the small thin figure in their midst. For an instant Napoleon was tempted to let his joy show, but now that he was a leader he must control his emotions. He must present a mask of composure. So he merely nodded, let them have a moment of shrill cheering, before he raised his arms to quieten them, and then yelled, 'To your positions!'

As the clock struck twelve a brief silence fell across the field. Even those who were not taking part turned to watch proceedings. A handful of the teachers who had seen the boys constructing their fortifications ventured out to witness the event. From the far end of the field a shrill challenge carried across the open ground towards Napoleon. He smiled grimly, then cupped his hands and shouted out his first order.

'Skirmishers!'

A small party of boys, picked for their speed, advanced through the narrow gaps in the outer wall.The swiftest of them carried the banner Napoleon had thrust into his hands as the last peal of bells rang out. They spread out across the field and advanced towards Alexander's side, clutching a handful of snowballs to their chests. As Napoleon examined the other side's defences he shook his head at the simplicity of his enemy. Alexander had done little more than erect a round rampart with one main entrance. Over the wall Napoleon could make out the tiny black heads of Alexander's team. Beyond the wall he could see the thin red line of his scarf tied to the end of a stick, being waved to and fro. Hardly a formidable defence, and a pointless one, as it happened, since Napoleon had no intention, of letting the smaller and weaker boys of his side attempt an assault. Standing on tiptoe, hands braced on the top of the inner wall, he craned his neck to follow the progress of the skirmishers.

They advanced steadily across the field, the yellow banner some distance to the rear of the line.As they closed on Alexander's fortifications the first snowballs arced up from the enemy's defences and fell harmlessly several paces short of their targets. The skirmishers moved closer, hefting their own snowballs in preparation to lob them over the wall. Still, it seemed, the other side had not the range to hit Napoleon's line. Then Alexander sprang his trap.

A sudden flurry of snowballs rained down on the skirmishers who had successfully been lured into striking distance. But Napoleon had anticipated such an obvious trick and could not help smiling. With a dull roar, the other team came pouring out of the distant fortification and sprinted across the snow towards Napoleon's skirmishers. But the latter were already turning and running away, fleeing back towards their own base. As they ran, some stopped to throw their remaining snowballs quickly before turning and sprinting for cover. Others simply dropped their snowballs and fled.The boy with the banner played his part like a professional, running from his pursuers just fast enough to stay ahead, but not so fast that they didn't charge on in the blind hope of capturing the yellow banner and winning the battle at a stroke.

'Here they come!' Napoleon called out. 'Stand to!'

The boys on his team reached for snowballs and raised their throwing arms.The first of the skirmishers were already hurrying through the gaps in the wall, racing across to the ends of the first line of defences and forming up on either side of Napoleon and Louis. The banner carrier was the last to enter and immediately took up position behind Napoleon where he raised the banner high above his head and waved it slowly from side to side to taunt Alexander's team.