Steel Gauntlet Read Online Free PDF

in outrage at her Combined Chiefs. “Gentlemen,” she began at last, and coughed. “Gentlemen,” she began again. She felt that she was losing control of herself quickly. “H-How many of these things do we have in our inventory?”
    “Well, we’re rushing them into production,” Admiral Perry answered. “Within a month we should have—”
    “Goddamnit! I asked, how many of these things do we have right now?” Madame Chang-Sturdevant shouted.
    “Well, Madame President, um, ah, we have, in our inventory, right now, that is,” Admiral Perry mumbled, “I believe, eleven.”

CHAPTER 3
    He stood shivering in the rain-soaked field, not so much from the exhaustion of the last ten days’ march through the French countryside or the damp chill in the morning air, as from the sight of the French host, drawn up no more than 250 yards from where Henry’s army had finally taken up its battle lines. This was it. They would fight it out here at last, vastly outnumbered. His heart began to race, the chill and exhaustion forgotten.
    At a spoken command from Vinetar Fletcher, the twenty men under his command pounded their wooden stakes into the ground before them. The other archers in Henry’s army were doing the same.
    The field echoed hollowly with the sound of mallets pounding on wood, and then the chips flew everywhere as each man quickly sharpened the protruding end of his stake with the small hatchet he carried at his side. Hopefully, the stakes would impale the French cavalry.
    “Lay your arrows,” Fletcher commanded. Quickly, expertly, he disposed of his arrows, two sheaves of twenty-four chisel-nosed cloth-yard killers, each of which could penetrate one inch of solid oak at a hundred yards. He struck them points down into the ground within easy reach. Earlier, Sir Thomas Erpingham had given orders to the cenetars, each of whom commanded one hundred archers, to have the vinetars assure that each man’s bow was strung before the army marched into line.
    He stood behind his stake now, and notched an arrow onto his bowstring. Each man looked to Fletcher, who looked to the cenetar sitting on his horse. Evan Cooper, standing just to his right, said something, and when he looked over, Evan grinned ferociously, exposing the conspicuous gaps in his front teeth.
    Incongruously, Fletcher was reminded of the old wives’ tale that a gap-toothed person was sexually insatiable. Well, that was true enough in Evan’s case, but the grin was reassuring just now. He grinned back.
    “Draw!” Fletcher shouted, taking his command from the cenetar, who had also seen the signal to draw bows: huge bright flags that had just been raised from where King Henry and his entourage calmly sat on their warhorses. “Two hundred and fifty yards, lads!” Fletcher shouted. “Put ‘em in there!” The flags went down. “Loose arrows!” the vinetars screamed, and thousands of archers simultaneously let their arrows fly. The flags came up again. He bent and notched another arrow and drew his bow as the first volley arced one hundred feet into the air and then descended toward the French battle line. He lost sight of his own projectile almost instantly as it blended into the cloud that swarmed out to fall upon the waiting Frenchmen. The flags went down again. “Loose!” the vinetars screamed, and the second volley sped away from Henry’s archers with the sound of huge, whirring wings.
    Standing in the second row of his cenetar, he could see clearly and hear the arrows impacting upon the Frenchmen. The sound of thudding and spanging echoed across the wide field. Horses screamed in agony as the descending volleys found unprotected backs and flanks. Some men-at-arms were unseated as their mounts plunged madly, but protected by their steel helmets and body armor, few were disabled at that range. King Henry was hoping the volleys would goad them into charging, get them close enough so massed aimed volleys could knock them off.
    And then they did