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Page 232
thought Simon would only take time to secure the prisoners and see to the wounded, they had more than time enough to set torch to the encampment. If it were necessary to leave their goods behind, the Welsh would do so, but they would never allow them to fall into their enemy's hands.
This, then, was another clever trap, and very clever it was. So accustomed had Simon become to finding empty villages and farms that for a time he had failed to comprehend the difference. The farms and villages were indefensible, of no value to either side. The Welsh did not fire them because they hoped to return. Occasionally out of frustration, Simon's men did burn a village out, but usually they were glad of the shelter and let them stand. The encampment was a different thing altogether. The men inside it were definitely at an advantage because it was defensible. Only an idiot would leave a strong emplacement to flee a force weaker than his own, half starving, without means of shelter. David ap Owain might be a treacherous and unloving uncle, but he was neither an idiot nor a coward.
"No," Simon said softly, but loud enough for the men on either side of him to hear, "they are there. They wait for us to ride up to the gates, all unwary, thinking the encampment is ours for the taking. Hold to your orders."
The word passed quickly from mouth to mouth down the line. The archers moved forward, opened leather sacks that had been tied to their quivers, and withdrew some very peculiar arrows. These were nothing but moderately straight sticks, well sharpened and fire hardened at the tip and most crudely feathered. Each third man set out a little clay pot from which, when the covers were removed, came a dull red glow. When the arrows were dipped into the pots, bright yellow flame blossomed. Then the archers fired them hastily. They flew most awkwardly, not only because

 
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