Footsteps in Time (The After Cilmeri Series Book 1)

Footsteps in Time (Chapter Ten)

David's company comprised twenty-five mounted men and a dozen archers, hidden in the trees and gullies on the other side of the hundred yards of cleared space that separated the woods from the encampment. A hundred yards was nothing to an archer, who could fire upwards of ten arrows a minute. In one minute, the dozen archers could shoot seventy-two arrows. But today they were aiming (quite literally) for accuracy, and they were going to hold themselves to a steady six.

Bevyn and David decided to give the archers two minutes to work, and then the cavalry would charge out of the woods. They intended to cut a swath through the English camp, turn around, and head back the way they'd come. They did not mean to kill all the Englishmen, or to take prisoners, but to disappear back into the woods, leaving a path of destruction in their wake. Ideally, this same scenario would be taking place simultaneously up and down the length of the Conwy Valley. There were at least twenty companies the size of David's, and many others that were larger.

Father commanded a company further north where the English encampments were more numerous and closer together. There, the foot soldiers would be put to use, to run screaming across the cleared space, hacking at anyone in their path, and then retreating to the woods on the other side. The Welsh would take casualties.

David's mind shied away from that thought, and perhaps it showed on his face, because Math said, "All men must face the time when they see death coming. Each must prepare himself for battle as he will. Some become angry, some empty themselves of all emotion, some never conquer that fear and fight afraid."

"What do you do?" David said.

"I hold an image of those I love in the front of my mind and every slash of my sword is a blow struck against those who stand between them and me."

"I've never been this afraid," David said. "I'm finding it hard to hold any thought at all."

"Empty yourself of everything but this moment, then," Math said. "Give yourself up to your senses. Acknowledge your fear, embrace it even, and you will find you have power over it. Your Father told me that you should meet him at his hunting lodge at Trefriw by noon. I intend to see you do just that."

David focused on his breathing, as his sensei would have suggested. In and out; in and out; become aware of everything around you, the little noises of the forest, the rain, the stamping feet of the horses, then close the sounds off so that there's nothing but you and your enemy; nothing between you and what you have to do.

"Fire!" Bevyn commanded. The archers released their arrows which flashed past in the gloomy dawn. David could barely see them, but despite the rain, he could hear them, a rushing sound that ended with screams from the English camp. Press. Loose. Press. Loose. Again and again they fired until those two long minutes passed and it was David's turn to fight.

His sword pointed forward as a signal to his men, David spurred Taranis out of the woods. Math held position on his right, as silent as David. Prince Llywelyn wanted the soldiers to hear the hooves, but to have his men appear as ghosts, descending on the English out of the murk.

The clearing sloped downwards as David approached the camp and he crossed it in thirty seconds. The camp was already in chaos from the arrows, with those men who could stand fumbling uselessly for their weapons. David's company hit them head on, Taranis taking down one man with his hooves and David slashing at a second man who failed to get out of the way. David killed him, and then killed another.

Eighty English, a hundred arrows, twenty-five horseman and there's no one left standing.

David swung Taranis around, having come out the other side of the camp, his sword bloody in his hand and sweat mixing with the rain and running into his eyes. His men had destroyed the English camp. Bodies sprawled on the ground everywhere, the same as in the clearing at Cilmeri when Anna drove into it. Men screamed further downstream, hopefully from other successful attacks, while men on the ground in front of David moaned. And still unrelenting, came the rattity-tat-tat of rain on David's helmet.