The Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett [280]
William enjoyed a moment of elation. His fear had gone. He roared: “Come on, you dogs!”
Two more men took the place of the fallen knight and attacked William simultaneously. He held them off but he was forced to give ground.
There was a surge on his right, and one of his opponents had to turn aside to defend himself against a red-faced man armed with a cleaver, who looked like a crazed butcher. That left only one for William to deal with. He grinned savagely and pressed forward. His opponent panicked and slashed wildly at William’s head. William ducked and stabbed the man in the thigh, just below the fringe of his short mail jacket. The leg buckled and the man fell.
Once again William had no one to fight. He stood still, breathing hard. For a moment he had thought the king’s army was going to be routed, but they had rallied, and now neither side appeared to have the advantage. He looked to his right, wondering what had caused the surge that had distracted one of his antagonists. To his astonishment he saw that the citizens of Lincoln were giving the enemy a hard fight. Perhaps it was because they were defending their own homes. But who had rallied them, after the earls on that flank had fled? His question was answered: to his dismay he saw Richard of Kingsbridge on his war-horse, urging the townsmen on. William’s heart sank. If the king saw Richard being brave it could undo all William’s work. William looked over at Stephen. At that moment the king caught Richard’s eye and waved encouragement. William let out a resentful curse.
The townsmen’s rally relieved the pressure on the king, but only for a moment. To the left, Ranulf’s men had routed the Flemish mercenaries, and now Ranulf turned toward the center of the defending forces. At the same time the so-called Disinherited rallied against Richard and the townsmen, and the fighting became furious.
William was attacked by a huge man with a battle-ax. He dodged desperately, suddenly afraid for his life. With each swing of the ax he leaped back, and he realized fearfully that the whole of the king’s army was falling back at much the same pace. To his left, the Welsh came back up the hill and, incredibly, started throwing stones. It was ridiculous but effective, for now William had to keep an eye out for flying rocks as well as defend himself against the giant with the battle-ax. There seemed to be a lot more of the enemy than before, and William felt, with a sense of despair, that the king’s men were outnumbered. Hysterical fear rose in his throat as he realized that the battle was very nearly lost and he was in mortal danger. The king should flee now. Why was he fighting on? It was insane—he would be killed—they would all be killed! William’s antagonist raised his ax high. William’s fighting instincts took over for an instant, and instead of falling back as he had before, he leaped forward and lunged at the big man’s face. His sword point went into the man’s neck just under the chin. William thrust it home hard. The man’s eyes closed. William felt a moment of grateful relief. He pulled the sword out and darted back to dodge the ax that now fell from the man’s dead hands.
He snatched a look at the king, just a few yards to his left. As he looked, the king brought his sword down hard on a man’s helmet, and the sword snapped in two like a twig. That was it, William thought with relief; the battle was over. The king would flee and save himself to fight another day. But the hope was premature. William had half turned, ready to run, when a townsman offered the king a long-handled woodsman’s ax. To William’s dismay, Stephen grabbed the weapon and fought on.
William was tempted to run anyway. Looking to his right, he saw Richard on foot, fighting like a madman, pressing forward, laying about him with his sword, striking men down left, right and center. William could not flee when his rival was still fighting.
William was attacked again, this time by a short man with light armor who moved very quickly, his sword flashing in the