The Messenger of the Black Prince 28

The Messenger of the Black Prince 28

Charles and I raised our bows and peeped out through a crevice in the

rock. Our heads were scarcely above the top line of the wall when three

arrows in quick succession whizzed past. One of them came so near that

the point of it clipped a tiny piece from the stone and sent it flying

into my face.

 

“Now!” cried the Dwarf. “Hold ready!”

 

I heard a shout. A score of our enemies rushed out from behind the

trees. They raised their bows. The arrows came as thick as hail. Another

shout and the men strung their bows and shot again. It was now or never.

The three of us raised ourselves each on one knee. I cannot speak for

the others. As for myself I singled out a fellow who was darting forward

from one tree to seek the cover of the next. My arrow caught him in the

shoulder between the arm and the neck. His bow dropped from his grasp.

As well as I could see, an __EXPRESSION__ of intense pain crossed his

features. He clapped his hand to the wound and reeled back to the tree

from which he had just come.

 

Charles must have hit his man, and even with more accuracy than I hit

mine. I saw a fellow spin around like a top and fall staggering to the

earth a little to the left. In the turning of my head I caught the flash

of hatred on the Dwarf’s face. The bow he carried was of unusual size

and the string of great strength. The missile went so fast I could not

even see its passage in the air. But the twang had hardly reached my ear

when the arrow pierced the neck of an enemy as he was running past a

tree. It stopped him in full career. It pierced him through and through,

and fastened him to the trunk as firmly as if he were tied with a taut

rope.

 

In the next breath we were down again. A flight of arrows clattered

against the stone face of our fortress or passed close over our heads.

The enemy must have been filled with bitterness that so many of them had

fallen while they had not been able to touch one of us. They paused for

a space to form again. This time they came on, not scattered as before,

but rather in groups. The first of them shot their arrows and dropped to

the ground. Those behind sent their missiles at us just at the moment

when they expected we would raise our heads above the wall.

 

They were coming in. There was no doubt of that. And so close on the

heels of each other did their arrows fly that we were unable to look out

long enough to take a good aim, for on the second try I shot wide of the

mark and in ducking back an arrow almost ended my life, for it grazed

the top of my head and cut into my scalp far enough to draw a few drops

of blood.

 

I began to fear for our safety. I knew the kind of enemy we had before

us. If they could lay hands upon us they would tear us limb from limb.

If we were to get out of our difficulty, it would be only by the death

of them all. But how it was to come about was more than I could guess,

for their numbers far surpassed ours. Even if we were to make off, there

were more and more of them about us in the woods.

 

I took the risk once more and raised my head above the wall. At the same

time I took a shot at a fellow who was half hidden by a tree. It was as

good as a miss, for the arrow only grazed his arm and tore a piece of

the cloth of the sleeve of his coat. But he let out a roar that echoed

to my ears. As though I had destroyed something of the greatest value,

he threw all caution to the side. He strung his bow and shot an arrow at

me with such force that it struck the rock and shivered into a thousand

pieces. Then with the same running motion he came on. He zig-zagged from

one tree to the other. He fumbled with his bow, but in his madness could

not steady himself long enough to string it. When he was within fifty

feet of our wall, he cast it to the ground in anger. He fumbled for a

moment at his belt. He drew out a dagger and raised it on high as though

he would sweep us all to death with the very fury of his attack.

 

Both Charles and I (the Dwarf was far to one side) saw him advancing. At

the same time we raised ourselves to shoot him down before he reached

the wall. But we had no sooner showed the tops of our heads when a rain

of arrows forced us to drop back again. In the next second the fellow

was bellowing like a wild bull. With one leap he had a footing on the

wall. Another, he had sprung over it and bounded into our midst.

 

It was a situation that we had not foreseen. In a certain sense he was

as safe as he would have been if he had remained among the trees. We

knew that if we rose to grapple with him we were as good as dead, for

the men without were on their guard. They were protecting him with their

eyes alert and their bows strung to kill the first of us who would be so

forgetful as to raise his head or shoulders in a line with their arrows.

 

The fellow flew at me like a fury. He caught me by the arm and spun me

around. I slid away from him and rolled over two or three times on the

ground. Charles lowered his body and made a flying leap. He struck him

in the middle of the back and sent him sprawling on his face.

 

I got to my hands and knees, poising myself on the balls of my feet

ready to move in case he came at me again. He rose. His countenance was

black with anger. The hand that held the dagger quivered with the wrath

that was boiling in him. He stood straight up and glared at me as though

his very looks would kill.

 

The Dwarf was edging over towards us, shuffling with his body low to the

earth. His face was covered with the same smile that I had noticed when

I first saw him. The fellow had one foot ahead of the other ready to

move. The Dwarf made one leap—a long, low horizontal leap. He fastened

the fingers of his powerful hands in the calves of my attacker’s legs.

He sunk his nails into the flesh with a grip like the claws of a wild

animal that is desperate. I heard him snarl and gnash his teeth. The

fellow tried to kick him away. He might as well have struggled against

the grip of an iron trap. The Dwarf gathered his strength into his

shoulders. He took in a deep breath. With a twist he jerked his victim’s

legs to the one side. The fellow came down with the swiftness with which

you would snap a whip. His head struck a stone and that so loudly that I

heard the crack of it. He gave a groan. His arms fell limp to his sides

and he rolled over with his eyes glazed on his back.

 

I breathed a sigh of relief. That I had been near death I fully

realized. But I had no time to reflect, for an arrow came darting over

our heads and sang its way beyond us into the forest. I sprang to the

wall, for I surely thought that the enemy suspected that their companion

was captured or injured and would make an attempt to save him.

 

But here the Dwarf surprised us again. With the litheness of a cat he

picked the fallen man in his arms. He stood straight up holding him face

towards the foe. He advanced step by step until he came to the edge of

our defenses. Then he raised the man like a bundle in his arms. By this

the lower part of his body was exposed. I trembled for a moment for I

was certain that it was a vulnerable spot for an arrow.

 

[Illustration: His Countenance Was Black With Anger]

 

My guess was right. An arrow came speeding at him. Its aim was as true

as ever an aim was. The Dwarf’s eye was keen. In a twinkling he lowered

the man so that his legs dragged on the ground. The arrow found its

mark. It struck the fellow clean in the chest. So great was the force of

it that the Dwarf staggered back a step to keep his footing. Then he let

out a screech—a horrible sound that came from his throat and echoed in

and out among the trees. With a heave as powerful as three strong men he

raised the body of the dead man over his head and cast it far out over

the wall. It turned and rolled. The arrow twisted under its side and it

came to a stop at the foot of a tree.

 

“Come and get him!” the Dwarf cried. “You’re a fine lot who kill your

own men!”

 

We were answered. As many arrows as a bird had feathers came shooting

towards us. On the heels of them the men in the woods ran from their

shelter, stringing fresh arrows as they came. The Dwarf began to bounce

about like a toad. His hands moved twice as fast as ours. Before I had

my bow to my shoulder he had brought a man down. The more excited he

grew, the deeper his voice resounded in his throat and the more

unearthly his screeches became. There was a savage instinct in him that

led me to think he was hardly human.

 

The first of our assailants got as far as the wall. The Dwarf struck him

over the heart and sent him tumbling back. A second followed. Charles

made short work of him. Then there came three of them together. They had

a daring recklessness in their eyes that told us they had made their

calculations and would risk all to rout us from our wall. In their

bravado they called to their companions in the rear to have no fear,

that this assault would be the last, that they were going to make an end

of us.

 

The Dwarf called to us to hold steady. He sent the foremost of them

kicking to the ground. I took the second, while Charles, whose aim was

true, dropped the third not a dozen feet from where we crouched. But

that was not the end. The others had been roused to a feeling of

desperation by our stubbornness. They kept on running. They shot their

arrows one after the other so that it was a risk for any of us to show

his head above the line of rocks.

 

The Dwarf gave another screech. Without a word to us he swung himself

into the branches of the nearest tree and disappeared from sight. We

were left alone, Charles and I, to make what we could of the attack. The

first two were easy enough. The third limped away, wounded in the leg.

The fourth (it was I who tried the shot) was only grazed along the

wrist.

 

Then we were in for it. Three of our enemies got as far as the wall. The

two foremost jumped over and made for us. The third fell as limp as a

rag where he had been shot by the Dwarf in the back. I thought we were

done for. To avoid a struggle hand to hand I ran with my body lowered to

the far corner of our defenses. Charles moved more slowly in the

opposite direction. Our separation had this advantage, the men could not

pounce upon us two at a time and so singly overcome us.

 

My fellow had cast his bow away. With his fingers outstretched like the

talons of a bird he ran at me and grasped me by the arm. I tore myself

loose and sprang still farther away. I saw an advantage and with bent

body made a running dive at his legs with about the same motion with

which you would dive into deep water. My shoulders struck him on the

shins. I fell to the earth, of course, but he fell with me. And in the

fall he struck his elbow a sharp crack on the edge of a stone that made

him wince with pain.

 

My mind was running in a hurry. I had no time to think of anything but a