Stephen Lawhead - Tuck

While Bran and Rhoddi worked to keep the knights pinned down, Tuck scrambled back into the forest and, tearing through the undergrowth and bracken, made for the top of the ridge where the unknown archers had placed themselves.

"Hold!" he shouted, tumbling into the road. "Put up!"

"Friar Tuck!"

Tuck recognized the voice. "Brocmael! God love you, man, get out of here!"

"We saw some Ffreinc down there and thought to put the fear of God into them, Friar."

"There's a battle on," the friar told him. He glanced at the young man's companions. "Follow me before the whole Ffreinc army falls on your foolish heads."

"Greetings, Bishop Balthus," said the man nearest him.

"Ifor! Bless your unthinking head, that's King William the Red's army you've attacked, and they'll be on us like bees on honeycomb."

By the time the newcomers reached the rocks, Bran and Rhoddi were slinging arrows down into the road as fast as they could draw. Shouts and screams of men and horses crashing and thrashing echoed along the rock walls of the defile. Already, the bodies were thick on the ground. Brocmael and his companions took one look at the chaos below and joined in.

"Cenau Brocmael," said Bran as the young man came to stand beside him, "as good as it is to see you, I could have wished you'd held your water a little while longer."

"Forgive me, my lord. I did not know you were lurking hereabouts. Have we spoiled the hunt for you?"

"A little," Bran admitted, sending feathered death into the churning mass of soldiers below. "Would you have taken on the king's army by yourself?"

"I thought it was just a few knights out for a jaunt in the forest." He paused to consider. "Is it really the king's army, then?"

"The king and his many minions, yes," put in Tuck, "along with a right handsome multitude of knights and men-at-arms so they won't be lonely."

"Another sheaf, Tuck!" called Bran, loosing the last arrow from his bag.

Tuck hurried to the pile and, taking a bundle under each arm, climbed up to the archers. He opened one bundle for Bran and placed one nearby for Rhoddi, then took two more to Owain. Across the road, the arrows streaked through the sun-bright air as Scarlet and Tomas and their two farm lads loosed and loosed again in deadly rhythm. Many of the knights had quit their saddles and were trying to scale the rocks. Weighed down by their heavy mail coats, they moved slowly and were not difficult to pick off, but more and more soldiers were streaming up the hill to the fight.

"How many are with you?" Bran asked the young lord, drawing and loosing in the same breath.

"Besides Ifor-only Geronwy and Idris," answered Brocmael, "good bowmen both. I would like to have brought more, but we had to sneak away as it was."

"I expect…" Bran began, drawing and loosing again. The arrow sang from his bow into the heaving chaos below. "… that your uncle will not be best pleased."

"Then he must accustom himself to displeasure," replied the young nobleman. "It is the right and honourable thing to do."

"And now, gentlemen all," said Rhoddi, picking up his bundle of arrows, "the right and honourable thing for us to do is to leg it into the greenwood."

He started away, and Tuck risked a look down into the chasm. The dust-dry road, where it could be seen, was taking on a ruddy hue and was now made impassable by the corpses of men and horses piled upon one another. The knights and soldiers coming up from the rear were scaling the rocks in a courageous effort to get at the archers above. Even as he looked over the cliff, a spear glanced off a nearby rock, throwing sparks and chips of stone into the air before sliding back down into the road. Duly warned, Tuck scuttled back from the edge.

Bran gave out a loud, shrieking whistle and waved with his bow to Scarlet and the others on the high bank across the road in a signal to abandon the attack. And then they were running for their lives into the deep-shadowed safety of the greenwood.

Amad scramble through the forest brought them to a tiny clearing where Bran and his men paused to regroup. "We had the devils trapped and trussed," Brocmael said, breathing hard from his run. "We could have defeated them."

"There are too many," Rhoddi countered. "We dare not stay in one place very long or they'll surround us and drag us under."

"Like crossing a mud flat," said Tuck, hands on knees, his lungs burning. "The longer you stand… the deeper you sink." He shook his head. "Ah, bless me, I am too old and fat for this."

"Will they come in after us, do you think?" wondered Geronwy, leaning on his longbow.

"Oh, aye," answered Rhoddi. "Count on it."

There was a clatter in the wood behind them just then, and Scarlet, followed by Llwyd and Beli, tumbled into the clearing. The two farm lads were looking hollow-eyed and a little green. Clearly, for all their skill with the bow, they had never killed before-at least, thought Tuck, not living men. While Bran and the others exchanged battle reports, Tuck undertook to gentle the skittish newcomers. Putting a hand on each of their shoulders, he said, "Defending your people against the cruel invader is a good and laudable thing, my friends. This is not a war of your making, God knows-does He not?"

The two glanced at one another, and one of them, Llwyd, found his voice. "We never killed before."

"Not like that," added Beli.

"If there is sin in it," Tuck told them, "then there is also grace enough to cover it. You have done well this day. See you remember your countrymen whose lives depend on you and let your souls be at peace."

Overhearing this, Bran turned to address the newest members of his tiny war band. "To me, everyone," he said. "Believe me when I say that I wish no one had to learn this cruel craft within the borders of my realm. But the world is not of our choosing. We have many battles to fight before this war is through, and your lives may be required long since." He spoke softly, but in grim earnest. "You are men now. Warriors. And part of my Grellon. So grasp your courage and bind it to your hearts with bands of steel." His twisted smile flashed with sudden warmth. "And I will pray with every shaft I loose that all will yet be well and you will live to see Elfael at peace."

"My lord," said Llwyd, bending his head.

Beli went one better and bent the knee as well. "Your servant," he said.

Then Bran addressed those who had come with Brocmael. "Greetings, friends, and if you've come to stay, then welcome. But if now that you've had a taste of this fight and find it bitter in your mouth, then I bid you farewell and God go with you."

"We came to help you fight the Ffreinc, my lord," said Brocmael. "As you know me, know my cousins. This is Geronwy." He put out a hand to a slender, sandy-haired youth holding a fine bow of polished red rowan.

"My lord Rhi Bran," said Geronwy, "we have heard how you bested Earl Hugh and would pledge our aid to such a king as could humble that mangy old badger in his den."

The other, not waiting to be presented, spoke up, saying, "I am Idris, and I am glad to lend my bow to your cause, my lord. It seems to me that either we fight the Ffreinc with you here and now-or we will fight them by ourselves later." A stocky lad with a thick, tight-knit frame, he seemed rough-carved of the same yew as the sturdy bow in his hand.

Scarlet, listening to the sounds echoing up from the road and forest behind them, called, "We must fly if we are to stay ahead of the chase. This way!"

"Our horses are back there." Brocmael jerked a thumb in the direction of the road.

"Leave them," Bran said, hurrying after Scarlet. "Horses are a hindrance in the forest. Anyway, it isn't far."

The archers started away again, disappearing into the close-grown trees and bramble and hawthorn undergrowth. It soon became clear that Bran was leading them along a stony trail up the long slope of the ridge where, in no more than a few hundred paces, the path suddenly erupted in outsized stones and boulders big as houses, all tumbled together to form a sizeable cairn-a natural fortress of stone. In the gaps and crevices between the rocks grew holly and briar, into which had been driven stakes of ash whose ends were sharpened to narrow spear points.