upstanding rib cage flickered white bone and red meat flecks in the sparkling light of the fire.
On the far side of the fire was Archibald sitting on a rock with his trews around his thighs close to his knees and rubbing a soothing greasy salve betwixt his legs.
John Montgomery emerged out of the darkened trees and sat the stone across the fire from the man. He parked his spear on his shoulder and bent his back low to his thighs to stretch his weary muscles.
John saw what Archibald was doing and so the earl felt at least a small obligation to explain.
“Saddle galled,” he said still applying the salve.
Montgomery nodded he understood. “Get galled from time to time myself,” he admitted. “Pig grease, ye usin ’?”
Farrier’s salve, it is… I get it from my farrier… uses it on horses, he does,” explained Archibald wiping the excess from his fingers onto the ground weeds at his feet.
Montgomery nodded. “Not much happenin ’ this night,” he opined with a long sigh.
Archibald stood and pulled his trews around his girth looping the belt to hold them up. “ Ye’re right, hain’t much of a siege… but ‘ twern’t suppose to be neither. No more than to keep the army penned inside so they couldn’t come for our raiders.”
“ Druther fight in the open than lay about like this,” said John.
“I’m fixed to reive more when Robert Stewart gets back,” admitted Archibald, “Got a lot of revenge to pass out here’bouts for their reivin ’ in Galloway durin ’ year past.”
The sky slowly began to lighten.
“Reckon they’ll be after us today any?” asked Montgomery thinking he would take a nap on the grassy spot near the big oak tree.
“Heard some bare faint clankin ’ a while ago on the far end of the wall… but nothin ’ of late,” replied Archibald as he stretched high up and yawned.
Montgomery stood. “I’ll go down to that end and see if there’s any more such sounds,” said Montgomery as he walked away.
Archibald pulled his dagger from its sheath, reached over the fire and trimmed a bit of cold half-dried meat from a bone of the carcass. He chewed as he looked into the faint yellowish light of the new day contrasted with the dark ruddy stone work of the castle walls. He remembered his father telling him stories about when he and King Robert Bruce came to this castle even with several catapults and could not break the walls no matter how they tried. How strange it is of me to stand this same ground some seventy and more years later without a slimmest hope of breaching the walls either and yet here I am wondering why, when I could be gettin ’ rich off the whole of Cumberland, he thought in earnest. This is the plot of ambitions far beyond my own.
Inside the gate tunnel one hundred and seventy-three knights sat their excited horses, biting bits and begging to be released to action. The men drew their bladed weapons with the simple kill or mutilate order well implanted in their heads.
Behind were another eighty men-at-arms on foot ready to do the follow-up work the knights were bound to initiate.
The longbow archers filtered along the wall opposite to where the Scots were camped. They nocked an arrow into their bowstrings and set two more added arrows along the wall in front of them for subsequent shots. They then sat on the wall walk with their backs against the wall waiting for the signal.
A half dozen archers were positioned on top of the keep so they could launch their barbs deeper into the Scottish camp.
Lord Ralph Neville stood hunched among the archers. He looked at the warm wan eastern light and then on the killing field in front of him. The light was perfect for his devious purpose.
He motioned for the messenger to come forward who had been drilled on the one single procedural task he was to perform and so Neville had a one word order, “Now!”
The runner ran down the steps from the wall walk through the middle bailey and out through the far bailey to the
On the far side of the fire was Archibald sitting on a rock with his trews around his thighs close to his knees and rubbing a soothing greasy salve betwixt his legs.
John Montgomery emerged out of the darkened trees and sat the stone across the fire from the man. He parked his spear on his shoulder and bent his back low to his thighs to stretch his weary muscles.
John saw what Archibald was doing and so the earl felt at least a small obligation to explain.
“Saddle galled,” he said still applying the salve.
Montgomery nodded he understood. “Get galled from time to time myself,” he admitted. “Pig grease, ye usin ’?”
Farrier’s salve, it is… I get it from my farrier… uses it on horses, he does,” explained Archibald wiping the excess from his fingers onto the ground weeds at his feet.
Montgomery nodded. “Not much happenin ’ this night,” he opined with a long sigh.
Archibald stood and pulled his trews around his girth looping the belt to hold them up. “ Ye’re right, hain’t much of a siege… but ‘ twern’t suppose to be neither. No more than to keep the army penned inside so they couldn’t come for our raiders.”
“ Druther fight in the open than lay about like this,” said John.
“I’m fixed to reive more when Robert Stewart gets back,” admitted Archibald, “Got a lot of revenge to pass out here’bouts for their reivin ’ in Galloway durin ’ year past.”
The sky slowly began to lighten.
“Reckon they’ll be after us today any?” asked Montgomery thinking he would take a nap on the grassy spot near the big oak tree.
“Heard some bare faint clankin ’ a while ago on the far end of the wall… but nothin ’ of late,” replied Archibald as he stretched high up and yawned.
Montgomery stood. “I’ll go down to that end and see if there’s any more such sounds,” said Montgomery as he walked away.
Archibald pulled his dagger from its sheath, reached over the fire and trimmed a bit of cold half-dried meat from a bone of the carcass. He chewed as he looked into the faint yellowish light of the new day contrasted with the dark ruddy stone work of the castle walls. He remembered his father telling him stories about when he and King Robert Bruce came to this castle even with several catapults and could not break the walls no matter how they tried. How strange it is of me to stand this same ground some seventy and more years later without a slimmest hope of breaching the walls either and yet here I am wondering why, when I could be gettin ’ rich off the whole of Cumberland, he thought in earnest. This is the plot of ambitions far beyond my own.
Inside the gate tunnel one hundred and seventy-three knights sat their excited horses, biting bits and begging to be released to action. The men drew their bladed weapons with the simple kill or mutilate order well implanted in their heads.
Behind were another eighty men-at-arms on foot ready to do the follow-up work the knights were bound to initiate.
The longbow archers filtered along the wall opposite to where the Scots were camped. They nocked an arrow into their bowstrings and set two more added arrows along the wall in front of them for subsequent shots. They then sat on the wall walk with their backs against the wall waiting for the signal.
A half dozen archers were positioned on top of the keep so they could launch their barbs deeper into the Scottish camp.
Lord Ralph Neville stood hunched among the archers. He looked at the warm wan eastern light and then on the killing field in front of him. The light was perfect for his devious purpose.
He motioned for the messenger to come forward who had been drilled on the one single procedural task he was to perform and so Neville had a one word order, “Now!”
The runner ran down the steps from the wall walk through the middle bailey and out through the far bailey to the
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