The Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett [427]
After a while they got back on their horses, regrouped, and rode off. The people of Kingsbridge raised a mighty cheer. But Jack did not think William had given up yet. They were not going back the way they had come. Instead they were heading upstream alongside the river. Richard came to Jack’s side and said: “They’re looking for a ford. They’ll cross the river and sweep through the woods to come at us from the other side. Spread the word.”
Jack went swiftly around the wall, relaying Richard’s forecast. To the north and east, the wall was of earth or stone, but there was no river in the way. On that side the wall incorporated the east wall of the priory close, only a few steps from the refectory where Aliena and Tommy had taken refuge. Richard had stationed Oswald, the horse dealer, and Dick Richards, the son of the tanner, on the roof of the infirmary with their bows and arrows: they were the best shots in town. Jack went to the northeast corner and stood on the earth rampart, looking across the field to the woods from which William’s men would emerge.
The sun climbed in the sky. It was another hot, cloudless day. The monks came around the walls with bread and beer. Jack wondered how far upstream William would go. There was a place a mile away where a good horse could swim across, but it would look risky to a stranger, and William would probably go a couple of miles farther, when he would come to a shallow ford.
Jack wondered how Aliena was feeling. He wanted to go to the refectory and see her, but he was reluctant to leave the wall; for if he did it, others would want to, and the wall would be left undefended.
While he was resisting the temptation there was a shout, and the horsemen reappeared.
They came out of the woods to the east, so that Jack had the sun in his eyes when he looked at them: no doubt that was intentional. After a moment he realized they were not just approaching, they were charging. They must have reined in in the woods, out of sight, and spied out the ground, then planned this charge. Jack went taut with fear. They were not going to look at the wall and go away: they were going to try to breach it.
The horses galloped across the field. One or two townspeople shot arrows. Richard, standing near Jack, yelled angrily: “Too early! Too early! Wait until they’re in the ditch—then you can’t miss!” Few people heard him, and a light shower of wasted arrows fell on the green barley shoots in the field. As a military force we’re hopeless, Jack thought; only the wall can save us.
He had a stone in one hand and in the other he held a sling just like the one he had used as a boy to shoot ducks for his dinner. He wondered whether his aim was still good. He realized he was gripping his weapons as hard as he could, and he forced himself to relax his hold. Stones were effective against ducks, but they seemed appallingly feeble against the armored men on big horses who were thundering closer every second. He swallowed drily. Some of the enemy had bows and burning arrows, he saw; and a moment later he realized that the men with bows were heading for the stone walls, and the others for the earth ramparts. That meant William had decided he could not storm the stone wall: he did not realize the mortar was so new that the wall could be pulled down by hand. He had been fooled. Jack enjoyed a small moment of triumph.
Then the attackers were at the walls.
The townspeople shot wildly, and a hail of hasty arrows raked the horsemen. Despite their poor aim they could not fail to claim some victims. The horses reached the ditch. Some balked, and some charged down into the dip and up the other side. Immediately opposite Jack’s position, a huge man in battered chain mail jumped his horse across the ditch so that it landed on the lower slope of the rampart and kept coming up. Jack loaded his sling and let fly. His aim was as good as ever: the stone hit the horse full on the end of its nose. Already floundering in the loose earth,