The archers below, enraged at the death of their comrades, leaped
and howled like a pack of ravening wolves.
"By Saint Dunstan," said Percy, looking round at their flushed
faces, "if ever we are to carry it now is the moment, for these
men will not be stopped if hate can take them forward."
"You are right, Thomas!" cried Knolles. "Gather together twenty
men-at-arms each with his shield to cover him. Astley, do you
place the bowmen so that no head may show at window or parapet.
Nigel, I pray you to order the countryfolk forward with their
fardels of fagots. Let the others bring up the lopped pine-tree
which lies yonder behind the horse lines. Ten men-at-arms can
bear it on the right, and ten on the left, having shields over
their heads. The gate once down, let every man rush in. And God
help the better cause!"
Swiftly and yet quietly the dispositions were made, for these were
old soldiers whose daily trade was war. In little groups the
archers formed in front of each slit or crevice in the walls,
whilst others scanned the battlements with wary eyes, and sped an
arrow at every face which gleamed for an instant above them. The
garrison shot forth a shower of crossbow bolts and an occasional
stone from their engine, but so deadly was the hail which rained
upon them that they had no time to dwell upon their aim, and their
discharges were wild and harmless.
Pages:
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380