Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- 13th century -- Juvenile fiction; Knights and knighthood -- Juvenile fiction
The Carleton cross-bowmen could do little against our stone walls
pierced with narrow firing slits. Some of their arrows came through, but
none of us were injured. Two huge stones, hurled by Alan, the armorer,
from the battlements above, came down on the heads of the luckless
churls in the moat and helped to scatter the scanty footing. Thrice more
had old Marvin dinted with his bolts the armor of the Gray Wolf, who was
running up and down behind his men, shouting threats and orders; but
still the arrows failed in drawing blood. Two other knights were not so
fortunate, for bolts struck them full in the faces, and they were borne
from the field by their comrades.
In time, mid curses and threats, old Carleton shouted an order for
retreat. It was none too soon, for already half the homespun varlets and
men-at-arms, seeing no hope of reaching us, and expecting any moment the
fate which was falling on their comrades, were on their way to the
shelter of the woods. The Carleton crew recrossed the open ground more
quickly than it had come. Twenty or more of their number remained
behind, in the ditch or on its bank, and the battering ram lay where its
bearers had dropped it when their comrades broke and ran.
[Illustration: _TWO HUGE STONES, HURLED BY ALAN THE ARMORER, CAME DOWN
ON THE HEADS OF THE LUCKLESS CHURLS IN THE MOAT_]
Hardly had the last of them disappeared under the oaks when Marvin and
Alan appeared in the moat, armed with long-handled pikes. Quickly
hauling together some of the planks and beams to make a raft, they began
pulling and pushing apart the rest of the matter which had been meant to
form a crossing. There had not been enough of the brush and lumber for
the Carleton purpose but could they place as much more in the same spot,
it might make them a footway. We who guarded them from above and stood
ready to give warning of any new attack were able to tell them over and
again that none of our enemies were showing their heads. So holpen, the
old soldiers made a thorough piece of work, and in half an hour had
hauled out all the planks and beams and so scattered the brush bundles
that they would be of little use to the attackers should they find
stomachs for another assault.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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