Again I heard the drum.
Some sense of the situation at the front must have now been relayed to the rear echelons. A channel of communication, after all, is of little value unless it, like a road or river, can be symmetrically traversed.
Although I could not read the signal, its import was clear.
An archer charge is hazardous, of course, unless directed upon an inert enemy. The whole rationale of the war bow is to strike from the safety of distance.
The archers, many of their quivers almost emptied, now began to edge forward.
It would be difficult to elude the shafts at close range. Few had brought shields ashore.
There was a sudden cry from Lord Nishida and our fellows cast aside the bodies, bristling with arrows, and leaped upon the startled, disconcerted archers, only feet away, few of whom could train or loose more than a single arrow before dying. I saw more than one quiver empty, a last arrow spilled beside a fallen bow in the moist, scarlet dust. Some archers fled back, but the ranks had now been closed against them. Some were slain with thrusts of glaives, others with swords. Several knelt docilely before their own men, shamed, and a headsman went from figure to figure, I gathered, restoring their honor.
By now it seemed, with the return and departure of the galleys, many of our men might have been returned to the ship.
I saw Tarl Cabot leave his position beside Lord Nishida, and move to the rear, where I sensed some stirring, doubtless amongst some of our men.
I did not understand the point of his departure.
I was more concerned with the Pani forces before us, presumably awaiting the issuance of its orders.
Cabot was shortly back, and I was aware of a message, or some form of communication, being passed throughout our lines, even to the left and right flanks.
“Be prepared to obey,” said a fellow to me, and then repeated this message to others.
If that were the message, it seemed pointless to me. What soldier is not prepared to obey?
I stood up, and looked back. Some new fellows were behind us, almost as shadows, and, down at the beach, some others, I sensed, might have been approaching. I could see some lanterns, on small boats, and one on the stern of a galley. From torches I could sense, as well, a number of men at the water’s edge. Our own position was precarious, but I was sure the defensive lines which Cabot and I had joined, commanded by Lord Nishida, had won the time needed for the withdrawal of most of our surviving forces.
They, at least, would return to the ship.
We waited in place, as did our foes, for the signal of the drum.
When it began to sound, we witnessed, as expected, the movement down the defile, marked by a hundred or more torches, of the mass of Pani reserves.
It did not seem likely we would return to the ship.
A fellow two or three men to my left, suddenly turned and fled toward the beach.
I felt much like following him, and a wash of panic and terror seemed to seize my whole body. Boats were at the shore. I could surely reach one in time. What was I doing here? This was not my war! It was no choice of mine! It was an accident that I was here, at all. It was not of my will that I was here. I was Cosian, not Pani. This was not my business. Too, I was only one man. What did it matter if one ran? The others would stay, and protect my back, my flight. I felt that I must move, run, flee, if only to do something. But I remained in place.
“Steady,” I heard a fellow say, to someone, somewhere to my right, on the other side of Lord Nishida, who stood like a rock, unmoving, in the center of our line.
“They are coming,” said a fellow beside me.
“Yes,” I said.
I did not know why we were whispering. Too, was it not obvious that the enemy was massing, and approaching?
I heard a stirring to my left.
The fellow who had fled had returned.
He must have reached the water’s edge, and then turned back, to take his place in the line. No one paid him any attention. He had never left.
The beat of the drum increased.
I supposed Lord Nishida, and the Pani, or some of them, might have read the drum. On the other hand, it was easy to read the movements before us, to see the torchlight on helmets and weapons, to hear, drawing closer, the rustle of steel, leather, and accouterments.