Braveheart by Wallace Randall

Author:Wallace, Randall [Wallace, Randall]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-11-03T06:00:00+00:00

He charged down the hill toward the soldiers massing on the north side of Stirling bridge. And the whole Scottish army followed him.

The English soldiers on the Scottish side of the bridge could not stand against the ferocity of the attack. They were outfought, outled, and outnumbered. They were thrown back toward the bridge itself, their only lifeline.

Talmadge was shocked at the butchery of his forces. It seemed impossible to him. It was a scene so horrible, so unthinkable to him that he could barely look, and yet he could not pull his eyes away. He felt his other field commanders at his shoulder, wanting instructions. It was hard to think. “Press reinforcements across!” he ordered them.

The flagmen signaled; the English infantry leaders, desperate to save their friends on the other side, tried to herd more of their footsoldiers onto the bridge, turning the already jammed passage into a plug of writhing humanity.

On the other side of the bridge, Wallace and his men were carving through the English vanguard. The Scots had already reached the bridge itself. Now everything was chaos. The English footsoldiers on the bridge who tried to shove their way forward to fight were pressed back by those trying to flee the hacking Scottish blades. Talmadge’s cavalry was gone. His archers, with fiend and foe so tightly packed, were useless. And his infantry had a deathgrip on itself.

But Wallace and his men moved only in one direction; forward. They hacked at anything they could reach: necks, faces, backs, it didn’t matter. The waters below the bridge ran red with blood.

“Use –use the archers!” Talmadge sputtered.

But the archers saw that they were useless now, and they had begun to smell the stink of panic rolling through the army; they were edging back, looking for a route to flee.

On the bridge, the Scots kept carving their way through the English soldiers – nothing could stop them. Wallace was relentless; each time he swung, a head flew of an arm. Hamish and Stephen fought beside him and swung the broadsword with both hands. Old Campbell lost his shield in the grappling; and English swordsman whacked at him and took off his left hand, but Campbell battered him to the ground with his right one and stabbed him.

The Scots reached the English side of the bridge and began to build a barrier with the dead bodies.

The English were not without courage. Cheltham, rallying the infantry blocked on the castle side of the bridge, led the desperate counterattack. The Scots made an impenetrable barrier of slashing blades, yet still Cheltham kept coming. As his men reeled back, he urged his horse into a gallop, intending to punch a hole through the Scottish barricade…

And Wallace stood to his full height, swung the broadsword, and hit Cheltham with a vertical slash that parted his helmet, his hair, and his brain.

Talmadge had seen enough; he wheeled his horse about and galloped away.

“Bloody coward!” his remaining general spat. But there was no time for that; he had to save the army.

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