Tuck

'Even if I were to agree,' replied the abbot, 'we must still discuss how the rule of Elfael is to be divided, and how we are to conduct the peace. Come, let us sit down together and talk as men.'

Odo and Bran exchanged a quick word, then Odo replied, 'First, my lord would have you swear a truce. You must promise to cease all aggression against himself and his people. Then he will parlera with you.'

The abbot and his monks held a quick consultation, and the abbot replied, 'Come closer, if you please. My throat grows raw shouting like this.'

'I am close enough,' Bran replied. 'Swear to the truce.'

Abbot Hugo took a step forward, spreading his arms wide. 'Come,' he said, 'let us be reasonable. Let us sit down together like reasonable men and discuss how best to fulfil your demands.'

'First you must swear to the truce,' answered Bran through Odo. 'There will be no peace unless you pledge a sacred vow to uphold the truce.'

Frowning, the abbot drew himself up and said, 'In the name of Our Lord, I swear to uphold the truce, ceasing all aggression against the people of Elfael from this day hence.'

'Then it is done,' said Bran through Odo. 'You may come forward-alone. Your monks are to stay where they are.'

'A moment, pray,' called the abbot. 'There is more… I wish to-'

Bran halted. One of the monks behind Hugo dropped his hand to his side, and Bran caught the movement and glimpsed a solid shape beneath the folds of the monk's robe. Grabbing Odo by the arm, Bran whispered something, and the two began backing away.

'He's onto them!' whispered Sergeant Jeremias from his hiding place among the roots.

'I see that!' spat Gysburne. 'What do you expect me to do?'

'Stop him!' urged the sergeant. 'Stop him now before he reaches the wood.'

'Wait!' cried Abbot Hugo from the clearing. 'We need safe conduct back to the village. Send some of your men to guard us.'

When Odo had relayed these words to Bran, the young man called over his shoulder and said, 'You came here under guard-you can leave the same way. There is no truce.'

The two outlaws started for the wood again, and again Hugo called out, but Bran took no further notice of him.

'Blast his cursed bones!' muttered Gysburne.

'Stop him!' urged Jeremias with a nudge in the marshal's ribs.

With a growl between his teeth, Guy rose from his hiding place and, stepping out from behind the ash tree, called out, 'Halt! We would speak to you!'

At the sudden appearance of the marshal, Bran shoved Odo toward the nearest tree. Dropping to one knee, he raised his bow, the arrow already on the string. Gysburne had time but to throw himself to the ground as the missile streaked toward him. In the same moment, the nine knights hidden since midnight in anticipation of this moment rose with a shout, charging up out of the undergrowth. Odo gave out a yelp of fright and stumbled backwards to where Bran was drawing aim on the wriggling figure of Gysburne as he snaked through the grass toward the safety of the bracken.

Swinging away from the marshal, Bran drew and let fly at the soldiers just then bolting from the wood to his left. His single arrow was miraculously multiplied as five more joined his single shaft in flight. Hidden since dawn in the upper branches of the great oaks and elms, the Grellon took aim and released a rain of whistling death on the knights scrambling below. Shields before them, the Ffreinc soldiers tried to keep themselves protected from the falling shafts. One knight stumbled, momentarily dropping his guard. An arrow flashed and the knight slewed wildly sideways, as if swatted down by a giant, unseen hand. A second arrow found its mark before the wounded man stopped rolling on the ground.

Three more knights were down just that quick, and the five remaining soldiers moved surprisingly fast in their mail and padded leather tunics. Ten running paces carried them across the open ground between the wood and the lone kneeling archer. Swords drawn, they roared their vengeance and fell upon him.

In the instant the soldiers raised their arms to strike, there came a sound like that of a hard slap of a gauntleted fist smashing into a leather saddle. Arrows streaked down from the upper branches of the surrounding trees, and the cracking thump was repeated so quickly the individual sounds merged to become one. The foremost knight seemed to rise and dangle on his tiptoes, as if jerked upright by a rope, only to crumple when his feet touched earth again. He collapsed in the grass, three arrows in his back.

A second knight threw his arms wide, his sword spinning from his grasp as he crashed to his knees and flopped face-first to the ground. A third knight paused in midstroke and glanced down at his chest, where he saw a rose-coloured stain spreading across his pale tunic; in the centre of the crimson stain, the steel tip of an arrowhead protruded. With a cry of pain and disbelief, he threw down his sword, grabbed at the lethal missile, and tried to pull it free even as he toppled.

The fourth knight took an arrow on his shield and was thrown onto his back as two more arrows ripped the autumn air, one of them striking the soldier a step or two ahead of him. The knight faltered, his legs tangling in midstep as the missile jolted into him, twisting his shoulders awkwardly. His shield banged against his knees, and he plunged onto his side at Bran's feet.

The sole remaining knight, still on the ground, covered his helmeted head with his shield and lay unmoving as the dead around him. Nocking another arrow to the string, Bran surveyed the battleground with a rapid sweep to the right and left. Several of the monks with Abbot Hugo had thrown off their robes to reveal mail shirts and swords, and others-five mounted soldiers including Sheriff Richard de Glanville-charged out from the nearest trees.

Stooping swiftly, Bran picked up Odo, dragging the frightened monk to his feet and driving him headlong into the safety of the greenwood. There came the sound of leaves rustling and branches thrashing in the forest nearby, and they were gone.

The mounted knights galloped to the edge of the wood and halted, listening.

All that could be heard were the groans of the wounded and dying. The marshal and Sergeant Jeremias ventured slowly out from behind their shields. 'See to those men, Sergeant,' ordered Gysburne. To the knight who lay unharmed among the bodies, he called, 'Get up and find the horses.'

'Are we going after the outlaws, Sire?' inquired the knight.

'Why, by the bloody rood?' cried the marshal. 'To let them continue to practice their cursed archery on us? Think, man! They're hiding in the trees!'

'But I thought the abbot said-' began the knight.

'Obey your orders, de Tourneau!' snapped the marshal irritably. 'Forget what the abbot said. Just do as you're told-and take Racienne with you.'

The two knights clumped off together, and Gysburne turned to see Sheriff de Glanville and his bailiff turning back from the edge of the wood. 'Have no fear,' called the marshal. 'The outlaws have gone. You are safe now.'

The sheriff stiffened at the insinuation. 'It was not for fear that we held back.'

'No,' granted the marshal, 'of course not. Why would I think that? You merely mislaid your sword, perhaps, or I am certain you would have been in the fore rank, leading the charge.'

'Enough, Gysburne,' snarled the sheriff. 'The last time I looked, you were crawling on your hands and knees like a baby.'

The abbot shouted from the clearing, cutting short what promised to be a lively discussion. 'De Glanville! Gysburne! Did you get him? Is he dead?'

'No,' answered the marshal, 'he got away.' He promptly amended this, adding, 'They got away. It was a trap; they were waiting for us.'

Abbot Hugo turned his gaze to the bodies lying in the long grass. His face darkened. 'Are you telling me you've lost four men and the outlaws have escaped again?' He swung around to face the marshal. 'How did this happen?' he shouted.

'You ask the wrong man, Abbot,' replied Gysburne coolly. 'We did our part. It was the sheriff who failed to attack.'

'You were supposed to draw them from hiding, Abbot, remember?' said the sheriff darkly. 'Since you failed in the first order, no good purpose would be served by pursuing the second.' He pointed to the bodies on the ground.