1635_ Cannon Law - Eric Flint [153]
"Benito!" he hissed.
"Frank?" Benito was behind him.
"Get a couple of other guys and check what's going on where our back entrances come out, yeah? And be careful. If they're as smart as they look they might have the whole block covered. Don't get spotted."
"Right." Benito scuttled off.
It took Benito ten minutes and when he came back it wasn't good news, either way. The number of soldiers out front had doubled, at least, and guesses about how many there were ranged up to two hundred. Benito was panting slightly and his eyes were shining. "You were right, Frank, they have the whole block covered. We won't be able to get out by daylight."
Damn right they wouldn't. Even if they figured out a way to sneak out before the shooting started.
Frank figured it was only a matter of time, certainly before dusk, before they had enough soldiers to rush the place. And he had four pregnant women—including Giovanna! his little mental voice shrieked at him—and six disabled to think about. Only three of those were bedridden, but the others had at least some trouble getting around. In one case, only one leg. Frank had little doubt that anyone captured would get the Inquisition's idea of due process. The Spanish Inquisition, to boot, which had a far worse reputation than the papal variety.
And no one coming to help, either. They were going to have to hold the place until nightfall at least and then scope out a way to get out.
A thud from in back nearly made Frank jump out of his skin and everyone at the front wall look around. "Steady," he called out softly. A rattle and the sound of someone climbing down the ladder settled everyone. Sure enough, Giovanna appeared in the doorway behind the bar.
She came over. "I counted eighteen of the bastards out front." She looked furious. "As soon as the shooting starts, we have bottles of oil to ready to throw. Unless you have a better plan?"
"Can't think of anything," he said, shrugging and fighting the urge to turn back to the slit he'd been looking through. "I figure we hold on until it's dark enough to get out. Leave the ladder down unless you have to pull it up. Benito? Which exit looks easiest to get out of?"
"The cellar one. I figure they might expect us to get out by going through the back wall." There was a hole there now that led into a tenement house, the ground floor of which had been abandoned when news of the invasion came. "They have a whole bunch of guys out there. Same for the houses either side. The cellars, we can go up the street a little and there's that alley opposite, the one that cuts through to—"
"That'll do," Frank said. "Giovanna, we can't fight this. We're outnumbered and surrounded and ain't no one coming to help. We have to get out if we can, if only to tell people."
"Fuck," someone said from the other end of the front wall.
Frank looked, and saw that the musketeers were blowing on the matchcords of their locks, getting them to glow nice and bright. "Giovanna," he said, putting as much urgency into his voice as he could, "back upstairs now and get everyone ready."
When he didn't hear her move at once, heard her take a breath to ask or say something, he barked: "Now!"
Louder than he'd intended.
In a room full of nervous guys with guns.
And so the Committee of Correspondence fired the first shots at their attackers.
Chapter 35
Rome
Ruy Sanchez de Casador y Ortiz was not, with his many years of experience, often wrong. Much mistaken in his