Merlin's Gold

Merlin's Gold - Chapter 25 - By The Sword

Chapter 25 – By The Sword

The Saxons came at them again as the sun began to lose its heat. The defenders had had a couple of hours to doze, talk, plan, and aid the injured among them who had made it out from the lower fort.

All of the injured too badly wounded to fight had been taken up to the top of the hill where Merlin had used his skills to bind wounds, staunch blood and splint bones. Both he and David had been called on several times to say prayers for the departed, and in order to reduce the potential for the spread of disease, a small number of hastily dug grave mounds dotted the hillside to the west of the defensive line.

Shortly after the retreat of the Saxons, one of Gawain's men had made it to the hill on foot. He reported few losses in the independent horse command, but noted several supply trains had been raided and severely damaged, further demoralising the Saxons. After reporting, he left to rejoin Gawain's mounted troop with fresh orders from Mark and Arthur.

Percival, squinting into the late afternoon sun, was the first to notice movement. He stood abruptly, loosening his sword in its scabbard, and prompting the ever watchful Morholt to call out across the line. "Be ready!"

Men roused from slumber: Arthur, Mark and Guinevere almost instantly appearing at Percival's side, Grayle and Iseult moments later.

The Saxons came silently, hoping perhaps to take the defenders by surprise. As they came close and realised the defenders were moving to intercept them, they gave up the pretence of stealth, and the roar of "Death" rolled across the fields ahead of the Saxons. They charged along the eastern side of the now abandoned palisade, a small group splitting off to make their way into the breached fort, presumably meaning to occupy it as a defensive move, the remainder making their way up the hillside to attack Arthur's forces.

"That's a shame," said Mark, "Hengist has finally started thinking about things a little. I think we should expect a flanking manoeuvre around the east side of the mound. That's what I'd do."

"Aye, I agree," said Arthur. "Grayle and I will handle that. Mark, the hill is yours."

He inclined his head at Mark and called fifty men to him, outlining what was going on and putting them on standby, ready to move should the anticipated flanking move begin. Several scouts were also placed around the circumference of the hill as a precaution against other outflanking manoeuvres.

"Archers ready! Long range, and don't forget you're aiming downhill!" Percival called, preparing his men.

Grayle had strung his bow, and stood waiting for the command as the Saxons streamed towards them. As they hit the slope, their pace reduced and, with the targets moving more slowly and bunching together, Percival gave the order.

Tri-flighted death sped down the hill, the archers on the western side of the hill joining in with a second volley on Morholt's command, peppering the men in the fort, and those making their way up the hill towards the combined forces facing them.

The screams of the injured and dying rose clearly in the stillness of the late afternoon, but the Saxons continued to advance, despite the arrows raining down on them. Occasional howls of pain punctuated the advance as a warrior trod on one of the viciously barbed caltrops the retreating forces had dropped in the grass. They advanced slowly, shields raised, scanning the ground, the archers raining arrows on them as they advanced.

Abruptly, half of the attacking group split off to the east and Arthur shouted into the afternoon air. "Second group, to me, let's take out that flanking manoeuvre before it gets anywhere."

Arthur, Grayle, and a group of soldiers moved to the east, skirting around the hill above the row of defensive stakes, as some of the archers directed their fire into the men who were moving away from them.