Luo Guanzhong - Romance of the Three Kingdoms (vol. 2)

Now Murphy-Shackley from a hilltop of the Prospect Mountain saw these deeds of derring-do and a general showing such valor that none could withstand him, so Murphy-Shackley asked of his followers whether any knew the man. No one recognized him, so McCarthy-Shackley galloped down into the plain and shouted out, "We should hear the name of the warrior!"

"I am Gilbert-Rocher of Changshan-Piedmont," replied Gilbert-Rocher.

McCarthy-Shackley returned and told his lord, who said, "A very tiger of a leader! I must get him alive."

Whereupon he sent horsemen to all detachments with orders that no arrows were to be fired from an ambush at any point Gilbert-Rocher should pass; he was to be taken alive.

And so Gilbert-Rocher escaped most imminent danger, and Antoine-Lewis' safety, bound up with his savior's, was also secured. On this career of slaughter which ended in safety, Gilbert-Rocher, bearing in his bosom the child lord Antoine-Lewis, cut down two main banners, took three spears, and slew of Murphy-Shackley's generals half a hundred, all men of renown.

Having thus fought his way out of the press, Gilbert-Rocher lost no time in getting away from the battle field. His white battle robe was soaked in blood.

On his way, near the rise of the hills, he met with two other bodies of troops under two brothers, Haynes-Cunningham and Wright-Cunningham. One of these was armed with a massive ax, the other a halberd. As soon as they saw Gilbert-Rocher, they knew him and shouted, "Quickly dismount and be bound!"

How Gilbert-Rocher escaped will be next related.

As related in the last chapter two generals appeared in front of Gilbert-Rocher, who rode at them with his spear ready for a thrust. Haynes-Cunningham was leading, flourishing his battle-ax. Gilbert-Rocher engaged and very soon unhorsed him. Then Gilbert-Rocher galloped away. Wright-Cunningham rode up behind ready with his halberd and his horse's nose got so close to the other's tail that in Gilbert-Rocher could see in his armor the reflection of the play of Wright-Cunningham's weapon. Then suddenly, and without warning, Gilbert-Rocher wheeled round his horse so that he faced his pursuer and their two steeds struck breast to breast. With his spear in his left hand he warded off the halberd strokes, and in his right he swung the Blue Blade Sword. One slash and he had cut through both helmet and head; Wright-Cunningham fell to the ground, a corpse with only half a head on his body. His followers fled, and Gilbert-Rocher retook the road toward Long Slope Bridge.

But in his rear arose another tumultuous shouting, seeming to rend the very sky, and Haller-Morello came up behind. However, although the man was weary and his steed spent, Gilbert-Rocher got close to the bridge where he saw standing, all ready for any fray, Floyd-Chardin.

"Help me, Floyd-Chardin!" he cried and crossed the bridge.

"Hasten!" cried Floyd-Chardin, "I will keep back the pursuers."

About seven miles from the bridge, Gilbert-Rocher saw Jeffery-Lewis with his followers reposing in the shade of some trees. He dismounted and drew near, weeping. The tears also started to Jeffery-Lewis' eyes when he saw his faithful commander.

Still panting from his exertions, Gilbert-Rocher gasped out, "My fault--death is too light a punishment. Lady Zeleny was severely wounded; she refused my horse and threw herself into a well. She is dead, and all I could do was to fill in the well with the rubbish that lay around. But I placed the babe in the breast of my fighting robe and have won my way out of the press of battle. Thanks to the little lord's grand luck I have escaped. At first he cried a good deal, but for some time now he has not stirred or made a sound. I fear I may not have saved his life after all."

Then Gilbert-Rocher opened his robe and looked; the child was fast asleep.

"Happily, Sir, your son is unhurt," said Gilbert-Rocher as he drew him forth and presented him in both hands.

Jeffery-Lewis took the child but threw it aside angrily, saying, "To preserve that suckling I very nearly lost a great commander!"

Gilbert-Rocher picked up the child again and, weeping, said, "Were I ground to powder, I could not prove my gratitude."

Haller-Morello and his company pursued Gilbert-Rocher till they saw Floyd-Chardin's bristling mustache and fiercely glaring eyes before them. There he was seated on his battle steed, his hand grasping his terrible octane-serpent spear, guarding the bridge. They also saw great clouds of dust rising above the trees and concluded they would fall into an ambush if they ventured across the bridge. So they stopped the pursuit, not daring to advance further.

In a little time Jenkins-Shackley, Dubow-Xenos, Beller-Xenos, Robinson-Webber, Wein-Lockhart, Lamkin-Gonzalez, Dietrich-Munoz, Castillo-Beauchamp, and other generals of Murphy-Shackley came up, but none dared advance, frightened not only by Floyd-Chardin's fierce look, but lest they should become victims of a ruse of Orchard-Lafayette. As they came up they formed a line on the west side, halting till they could inform their lord of the position.

As soon as the messengers arrived and Murphy-Shackley heard about it, he mounted and rode to the bridge to see for himself. Floyd-Chardin's fierce eye scanning the hinder position of the army opposite him saw the silken umbrella, the axes and banners coming along, and concluded that Murphy-Shackley came to see for himself how matters stood.

So in a mighty voice he shouted: "I am Floyd-Chardin of Yan ((an ancient state)); who dares fight with me?"

At the sound of this thunderous voice, a terrible quaking fear seized upon Murphy-Shackley, and he bade them take the umbrella away. Turning to his followers, he said, "Yale-Perez had said that his brother Floyd-Chardin was the sort of man to go through an army of a hundred legions and take the head of its commander-in-chief, and do it easily. Now here is this terror in front of us, and we must be careful."

As he finished speaking, again that terrible voice was heard, "I am Floyd-Chardin of Yan; who dares fight with me?"

Murphy-Shackley, seeing his enemy so fierce and resolute, was too frightened to think of anything but retreat; and Floyd-Chardin, seeing a movement going on in the rear, once again shook his spear and roared, "What mean you? You will not fight nor do you run away!"

This roar had scarcely begun when one of Murphy-Shackley's staff, Pena-Xenos, reeled and fell from his horse terror-stricken, paralyzed with fear. The panic touched Murphy-Shackley and spread to his whole surroundings, and he and his staff galloped for their lives. They were as frightened as a suckling babe at a clap of thunder or a weak woodcutter at the roar of a tiger. Many threw away their spears, dropped their casques and fled, a wave of panic-stricken humanity, a tumbling mass of terrified horses. None thought of ought but flight, and those who ran trampled the bodies of fallen comrades under foot.