Horsemen came into sight, charging down the slope. Some of the Lancers managed to draw weapons and fire, but they were swiftly cut down. Others spurred their mounts and sought to gallop back down the trail.
Macy managed to crawl to the side of the road. He hauled himself to a sitting position, his back against a fallen tree. Then he watched as the men of the Eldacre Company tore into the shocked and terrified Lancers. There was no anger in Macy now. He felt calm. A neutral observer watching a drama. He noted the discipline of the attack, and its sheer ferocity. He saw with appreciation that a line of escape had been left open. Many of the Lancers were now spurring their mounts up the slope in a desperate bid to be away from the terror. Then he saw Gaise Macon, his golden hair shining in the new dawn light.
Glorious heroes, thought Macy. And vile villains.
He felt suddenly thirsty, and his mind shifted to the old well back at the manor house. He and Mirna loved that well. She always claimed that the water was magical. He smiled at the memory. When the war was over he would rejoin Mirna and the children, and never leave again.
The fighting moved away from him, and the rising sun cleared a section of trees, the light falling upon him. It was a wonderful feeling. He tilted his head to enjoy it. A shadow fell across him. Opening his eyes he saw Gaise Macon step down from his mount and walk towards him.
‘Good morning to you,’ said Macy.
‘And to you, general. Your men are scattered or dead. I have no time to deal with your wounded.’
‘No, I expect not. Beware if you head west or north, Macon. There are cannon hidden.’
‘I know. We are not traitors,’ said Gaise Macon.
‘I worked that out. To my shame I came anyway.’ Macy reached for the letter in his tunic, and winced. Pain was beginning to radiate from his chest and lower back. He handed the letter to Gaise Macon, who read it swiftly. Macy spoke again. ‘Velroy told me the Redeemers can see events at great distance. They are probably watching us now.’
Gaise Macon gently opened the offier’s tunic, and examined the wounds. He said nothing.
‘It is going to be a nice day,’ said Macy, tilting his head towards the sun. He saw Mirna at the well. He was about to ask her to draw him up some water.
Then he was falling.
Down and down into darkness.
He had no idea the well was so deep.
Gaise Macon saw him die. ‘You were a good man, Macy,’ he said. Returning to his grey Gaise stepped into the saddle.
The Lancers were fleeing now in disorder and many of the Eldacre men were returning to the wood. From the distance came the sounds of a musket volley. Gaise felt a sudden sadness swamp him. Then Cordelia Lowen’s face appeared in his mind. I will survive this, he thought. I will save my men and take them – and Cordelia – north. Away from this war. There was a parcel of land to the east of the Moidart’s Winter House. Gaise had always loved it. I will build a house for us there, he decided.
Then, gathering his men, the Grey Ghost rode back towards Shelding.
CHAPTER TWELVE
AT FIRST GLANCE JAKON GALLOWGLASS DID NOT LOOK LIKE A SOLDIER. He was thin and round-shouldered, and generally moved with a gangling gait, appearing clumsy and lacking in co-ordination. His uniforms were always ill fitting, for his right arm was two inches longer than his left. This, and his concave chest and sloping shoulders, made him entirely unsuited to the needs of fashion. He was also, as his officers would say continually, disgracefully unkempt, with little understanding of discipline. He had been flogged eleven times during his five years of service. In short, all the reports on Gallowglass stated that he was a bad soldier. He had only one redeeming feature. Jakon Gallowglass was a fighter, who didn’t know when to quit.
It was a skill he needed in all its vicious glory now as he ran back through the streets of Shelding. The enemy had broken through on the right, and the fighting had moved into the back streets. Several of the citizens had tried to run for the transient safety of the meadows. They were shot down by the advancing musketeers.