|
|
|
|
|
|
ran forward again, pulling war arrows from their quivers, seizing wound bows from their seconds. The range, even from the forward position, was long but some shots went true. There were occasional shrieks of pain added to the cries and calls of the fire fighters. To the east, the sky grew lighter. Simon's men-at-arms shifted uneasily in their saddles and he issued a sharp order for them to hold their positions. Their time was not yet. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The archers grew bolder, since no one had yet returned their fire. Simon watched keenly, but he did not order them back. Their aim improved. The shrieks of pain became more frequent, and cries of anger began to mingle with them. The palisade was burning in many places now. In some places the wood itself was afire rather than the pitch from the arrows and the back on the logs. Suddenly a cry of pain rang out near at hand. The Welsh archers were climbing up behind the palisade wherever the flames were not too close and one of them had hit his mark. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Shield wall," Simon ordered. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
For every two archers and two seconds in the forward line, one man-at-arms dismounted and unhooked from his horse a wide, tight-woven wicker shield. Bearing this, he ran forward to where the archers crouched, more visible now as dawn advanced. They formed around him, sheltering until they saw a suitable target. The wicker could not stop an arrow, but by the time the shaft passed through, much of its force would be spent. Moreover, the Welsh archers could aim only at the shield itself, and the only one close enough to the wicker to be touched by a piercing arrow was the heavy-armed man-at-arms whose mail would easily be proof against a nearly spent missile. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Welsh archers cursed; Simon laughed. Many of the archers with fire arrows crept closer also, crouching behind the shielded groups, running out to fire, and darting back. New fires appeared among the shelters inside the palisade. The noise in the encampment was |
|
|
|
|
|