To Chase the Storm: The Frontier Series 4 (47 page)

Saul followed the faint blood trail away from the site and before long stumbled on two dead men. They were Arab villagers and had died from knife wounds, most likely inflicted by Ivan in a vicious hand-to-hand fight. The bodies had been laid out
with some respect; it was this that confirmed Saul’s worst fears. The two dead men had been left because the ambushers intended to return and carry them back to the village after they had completed their mission.

Saul took a few paces back to scan the earth leading to the
moshava
. He needed no other sign than the scores of footprints he saw to send him racing back to his mount. Maybe a hundred or more Arabs were moving into position to attack the unsuspecting village. His people were vastly outnumbered and a massacre was sure to occur unless he was able to get back and warn them.

Saul dug his spurs into the mount. Time would be measured in minutes rather than hours if the tiny settlement was to survive. He rode hard and just before noon reached the vineyards of the
moshava
.

‘Get everyone back to the settlement,’ he yelled from the saddle to the young men and women working amongst the grapevines. ‘Now!’

Two of the men he had trained had their rifles and responded immediately, herding the vineyard workers away without questioning his command. Saul spurred his horse on to ride to the fields to pass on the same message. When he was satisfied that he had warned as many as possible he rode his lathered mount into the scattering of stone buildings, reining in at the community’s meeting hall where he was met by Jakob.

‘What is it?’ Jakob asked, his face creased with concern. ‘Has something happened?’

‘Ivan is dead,’ Saul answered in a flat voice. ‘The
bastards ambushed him in a gully east of here, about an hour’s ride away.’

Jakob’s face paled. ‘We should go and fetch his body.’

‘If we do, then we will most probably share his fate,’ Saul said. ‘I am certain that they are going to hit us in the next few hours. Probably during the night, if I know their tactics well enough.’

‘If what you say is true, I should call a meeting with the council and decide what we should do,’ Jakob said in a distant voice. ‘I must hurry.’

Holding the reins of his horse, Saul led her to the stables. His warning had brought the settlement to life and rifles appeared in the hands of the small but efficient fighting force he and Ivan had readied. But not ready enough, Saul thought with some fear. Would they be able to defend the settlement against a sizeable raid by an enemy that, according to his estimates, outnumbered them five to one?

‘What do we do, Mr Rosenblum?’ a young man questioned, coming to a skidding halt before Saul, his rifle and bandoleer of spare ammunition in his hands. ‘I have heard that we are about to be attacked.’

‘You get everyone with a weapon to meet me here at the stables in five minutes,’ Saul said calmly. ‘I will brief you then on your duties.’

The young defender took heart from the experienced former soldier’s calm tone and hurried away, leaving Saul to unsaddle his hard worked horse.

Within a few short minutes a party of nine men and seven women gathered outside the stables. Saul stepped out and gazed around at the ragged militia.
They stood silent and grimfaced but Saul was pleased at the way they bore their fear – it did not show.

‘To all intents and purposes,’ Saul said, addressing his army, one woman translating his words to Yiddish, ‘it seems we may be under attack at any time. But more likely tonight.’

The young men and women still held their fear in check. Indeed, a fierce determination to defend their village crept across their faces.

‘I will assign you your tasks and appoint leaders who will report to me.’ Saul continued his briefing, nominating each person by name for a specific task. ‘We will add to our numbers by taking any able-bodied person who can hold an axe, pitchfork or anything else that can be converted into a weapon. The extras will be dispersed amongst those with the guns to bolster numbers.’

When the briefing was over, each nominated team leader scoured the settlement for the volunteers Saul had identified to supplement his small force. When they reported back to him, Saul took their section to a pre-planned defensive position around the settlement. By day the tactically sited outposts had a clear field of fire and anyone attempting to approach the village could be shot down. But by night this would be more difficult, almost impossible, and that is why Saul knew their enemy would attack during the hours of darkness. He walked the perimeter of the village, stopping to identify in depth points that could be defended. His overall plan had his rifles as far forward as possible and a second line of
defenders providing positions to fall back, shrinking the perimeter. The defence called for every ounce of tactical knowledge Saul had. The Palestinians were no fools if they were able to ambush Ivan, he realised as he stood gazing out across a recently ploughed field to the distant hills shimmering under the late afternoon sun.

As Saul stood making his observations he had a brief chance to think about his old friend. Ivan was dead and there was nothing he could do about that. When it was safe they would go back and retrieve his body. Grief was something Saul knew he would have to put into the future – the time beyond that when his cold-blooded instincts were required for the sake of their very survival. He did not care if they thought he was heartless for the decisions that he must make. He was their military leader and knew that the orders he would give may bring death to some in the name of the community’s survival – that was the way of war. He dreaded the coming of the night and the decisions that would bring. He did not share the apparent optimism of his militia. Had he believed in the God of his ancestors, he might have prayed for a miracle. Instead, he would rely on the hitting power of the Lee Enfield .303 rifles in the hands of his young defenders. It might have been good to have the ancient biblical Joshua with him right now, he thought with a rueful smile. At least he knew how to fight.

In the hall Jakob sat at the battered wooden table and told the gathered community leaders what Saul had reported.

‘What if he is wrong?’ Aaron Herzog said to the gathering. ‘What proof does he have of an attack on us?’

‘Because he told me,’ Jakob replied with a sigh. ‘And I trust the young man’s opinion. According to my son, he was a good soldier in South Africa and I heard through friends in the army that he was recommended for their country’s highest award for bravery. If Saul Rosenblum thinks that we are going to be attacked, then I believe him. We have been fortunate to receive early warning to prepare our defence.’

‘I see no proof,’ Herzog persisted, but his argument was gathering little support as it was well known that he and Saul despised each other. ‘I say that we should go out immediately and bring back Ivan’s body for a fit and proper burial. He was, after all, a devout man.’

This brought a chuckle from a few in the meeting.

‘Ivan was devout to the vodka,’ someone muttered, causing the chuckle to escalate to a ripple of laughter. ‘But we will miss his presence amongst us.’

‘I would suggest that we gather the women and children to a place of safety in the settlement,’ Jakob said, quietly drawing back the attention of the meeting.

The men nodded, some tugging at long beards. Only Aaron appeared to disagree. If he had his way, the Australian would be ejected from the settlement. From what he had learned, Saul Rosenblum was a man who had no real belief in the spirituality of his ancestors. Nor was his mother even Jewish. The likes of the Australian had no place in the new Zion.

On the perimeter Saul waited patiently. He knew with certainty that the time of blooding for his small force was only hours away. How would they cope? The next few hours would answer his unspoken question.

It was approaching midday in Ireland.

Patrick finished his packing, leaving only his pistol on top of the bed. It was time to say goodbye to his friend Father Eamon O’Brien and then make his way to the Fitzgerald manor.

From the tiny window of his hotel room Patrick surveyed the countryside. The weather was boiling up for another heavy cloudburst, which would bring cold driving rain to the village and fields. He walked back to his bed and sat on the edge, staring at the revolver. He had failed either to convince his cousin Martin to desist in his seditious activities against the British Crown or to adequately explain his feelings to his wife. Since his visit he had no word from her.

‘Damn!’ he swore savagely and screwed up his face in anger. Why could Catherine not see his love for her? Or was it that he had been too long under the influence of war to truly be able to express his deepest emotions?

The peat digger closed the door of his tenement house behind him and with hands in pockets hunched against the biting wind. The upraised collar of his coat helped both to protect his face and neck
and disguise his features. He hugged the wall of the narrow cobbled street as he strolled casually towards the edge of the village.

If the intelligence was correct, Norris was due this evening and Sean wanted to be pre-positioned to make his meeting with the British landlord. But it was a meeting that Sean knew only he would walk away from. Then he would go in search of the traitorous Major Duffy and make his score two for the night.

FORTY-NINE

A
moonless night came to the settlement.

Saul had issued his orders and the village lay in darkness, his tiny force deployed to strategic points around the village to cover as much of the perimeter as possible. Saul knew that it was not enough, but he had at least trained his militia in night firing and demonstrated to them how easy it was to fire too high in the dark. They had soon learned in range practice to keep the rifle barrels down and fire low.

Those not armed – the older men, women and children – had been confined to a storage building made of heavy stone and easily barricaded. Aaron Herzog was amongst the frightened settlers huddled between bales of straw and crates of farming supplies. He had refused to learn how to use a rifle as he did not believe in violence, and Saul had not pressed the point.

Saul checked the rope he had laid on the ground
between the outposts established just after last light. In the dark, each of the outposts could be found by following the waist-level rope he had hung to wooden markers. It was time to inspect the positions and Saul commenced with an outpost manned only by one person. It was a site less likely to be exposed to an attack but critical in the defence of the interlocking fire zones Saul had designated each position. He was duly challenged for the password and, on giving the correct reply, moved forward cautiously and bumped into one of the defenders.

‘It is you, Mr Rosenblum?’

He recognised the frightened voice of the pretty young girl who had been in tears at the range only days earlier. ‘How are you holding up?’ he asked.

‘I see nothing in the dark,’ the girl said. ‘I am very frightened. Do you think I will be killed?’ she asked in a rush of tight words.

‘How old are you?’ Saul asked gently.

‘I am seventeen,’ she replied.

‘Then you will live to be seventy and have many children born on this land,’ Saul said with a smile she could not see. ‘That is a promise.’

The young girl’s voice seemed to relax just a little. ‘Will they really attack us if they think we know they are out there?’ she asked.

Saul considered her question. ‘I wish that they would instead show some sense and return to their village, but I feel they are stupid enough to attempt an attack on us, so be vigilant.’

‘Mr Rosenblum?’

‘What, Elsa?’ Saul responded.

‘Can you stay with me, if they come?’ she blurted. ‘I would feel safer knowing that you were beside me.’

Saul felt a lump in his throat. How could he tell her that he expected many of them to die before the sun rose on the next day and that she might be one of them? It had taken a lot for Saul to adjust to the idea that women would also be fighting alongside the men to defend the settlement. Jakob had quietly insisted, telling Saul biblical stories about the Hebrew women of old and how they had stood beside their men.

‘I will try,’ he said, and reached out instinctively as a father would to touch the face of the young girl with the palm of his hand. He felt the wetness of the tears that flowed down her cheeks as Elsa gripped his wrist tightly.

‘I would like to tell you something,’ Elsa said. ‘But I do not know how to say it.’

‘Tell me tomorrow, when this is all over,’ Saul replied as he self-consciously drew away his hand. ‘I must go now and check the others but I promise I will be back tonight.’

Elsa nodded and watched the Australian disappear silently. She settled in to watch her area of responsibility to the front, feeling the reassuring cold wood of the rifle tucked loosely into her shoulder. But the shallow trench that had been hastily dug after last light felt like a grave. Would she have the courage to tell Saul of her feelings, she wondered.

When Saul had completed his rounds to each outpost, reassuring his defenders, he returned to report to Jakob.

‘You know that we don’t have enough people with rifles to defend the village,’ Saul said bitterly as he slumped against a wall, rifle between his knees. It was dark in the hall except for the flickering light of a candle, and with the windows and doors barricaded no light could be seen from outside. Jakob sat at the big table with a book open before him. ‘We could have done with bayonets and a machine gun or two,’ Saul added with a sigh.

‘That is all we could afford,’ Jakob answered with a shrug. ‘We must trust in God’s protection. He will not desert us.’

‘You sound like that sanctimonious bastard Herzog,’ Saul said. ‘I got to see a lot of dead Dutchmen who figured the God of their Old Testament was on their side.’

‘Ah, but God has sent you to us,’ Jakob countered gently with a twinkle of a smile. ‘That is the way He works. He will not desert His chosen people in their dire hour of need.’