The sword in the stone by T. H. White

Author:T. H. White [White, T. H.]
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General, Fiction, Fantasy, Classics, Juvenile Fiction, Children's Books, Ages 9-12 Fiction, Legends; Myths; Fables, Children: Grades 4-6, Arthur;, Legends; Myths; & Fables - General, Adaptations, King, Knights and knighthood, Arthur, Juvenile Science Fiction, Arthur; King, Arthurian romances, Kings and rulers
ISBN: 9780399225024
Publisher: New York : Philomel Books, 1993.
Published: 2010-03-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE ORDERS were that everybody was to spread out into a circle, and then march outwards from the castle with all possible stealth. The circle would have to get wider, like the rings made when you throw a pebble into water, until it was as wide as the griffin circle which surrounded them. As soon as Robin thought that everybody was in his place, with a griffin or wyvern before him, he would blow his horn, and then, but not till then, they were allowed to begin the battle. Wart was between Kay and Marian, and it seemed a long time before they reached their quarry. When they did reach it, and could once more see the gigantic wings in silhouette against the now bright moon, they lay and waited in the grass for a time which seemed eternity. They fitted their arrows to their bows, so that they would be ready to loose off at the very first note of Robin's horn, but no sound came.

The wyverns and griffins were posted alternately. The former, which were much smaller than the griffins, were the type of dragon which the Wart had been frightened of on his previous visit to the forest: the type which lived under stones and hissed like kettles. They had spiky wings, two legs, and tails like fire-drakes. Marian and Wart had wyverns opposite them, but Kay was opposite a griffin. They could see the circle of sleeping monsters stretching away to left and right.

The Wart was glaring upon his wyvern with every nerve at full stretch, when he suddenly saw it prick its ears. The scaly head, which had been bowed in sleep, sprang upright, and the ears, which were like the wings in being spiked like umbrellas, stabbed the moon. At the same instant the nearest griffin woke up and gave a loud, harsh scream. It was a noise like a railway train letting off its whistle. There was immediately a terrible din of brassy cries, answering or warning, and, on top of the uproar, riding on it proudly like the voice of the Arabian Bird, Robin Wood's fierce horn of silver began to blow.

"Tone, ton, tavon, tontavon, tantontavon, tontantontavon," went the horn, and again, "Moot, trout, trourourout, trourourourout. Troot, troot. Tran, tran, tran, tran."

Robin was blowing his hunting music and now all the ambushed archers leaped up. They set forward their left feet in the same movement and let fly such a shower of arrows as it had been snow.

The Wart saw the nearest griffin stagger in his tracks, a clothyard shaft suddenly sprouting from between the shoulder blades. He saw his own arrow fly wide of the wyvern, and eagerly bent forward to snatch another from the ground. Each man of the waiting troops had stuck his twelve arrows point downwards in the ground before him, for convenience in loading. He saw the rank of his companion archers sway forward as if by a preconcerted signal, when each man stooped for a second shaft.

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