It was like a sign to me that the sun ceased to appear over the horizon at
Falkirk, almost as if it was a symbol that this would be a day of no light.
I was still scared beyond belief, but I was not alone. At around 8 am, we
assembled on to the field in a long line stretching a couple hundred feet.
Everyone was armed with various artillery, from swords, to arrows, to axes;
and every single weapon shook from the hands of its owner. I looked on to
each man, making sure to capture there thoughts and faces, for this was a
moment I would never forget, and I wanted everyone to be remembered.
Vicious thoughts began to strike me as we heard a rumble in the distance.
What if we failed? What if this was all for nothing? What if I die?
Then I thought back to what Hudson, wise simple-minded Hudson, told me, and I immediately gained back some confidence. The rumbling grew louder, and soon the most horrific sight appeared before my eyes as thousands of my enemies began to form onto the field, about two hundred yards away. My stomach began to churl as hundreds, maybe thousands of soldiers appeared in view, much outnumbering our band. Our cavalry consisted of two nobles and 60 horsemen. The English's cavalry was double that amount. A feeling of dread came over me, and all my fears came back.
A hand suddenly fell into mine and I felt a tight squeeze, I looked up to see Jeremy give me an assured look. "Don't worry, Maura, we'll be okay. After all, we got Wallace: they don't." That made me smile, and I nodded vigorously.
Pierce, Douglas, and Owen were behind me, and each put an arm on my shoulder. I knew they weren't doing it just to comfort me; after all, I was the only female figure on the field, and maybe they thought that a touch from me would be like reassurance from their mothers.
"Well, well, looks like the high king himself came to our little gathering. I feel honored," Pierce sneered. We all looked on, and sure enough, a figure beyond all his soldiers stood with the attire of only royalty. My heart skipped a beat. I was within range of the man that I hated more than anything in this world. He was my Satan, the devil that I longed to defeat. For it was he that caused all this blood.
Suddenly I felt a breeze from the left, and I looked and saw Wallace riding over here. His kind features that I had come to love were gone, and the only thing that remained smeared all over his face was the look of a savage. He trotted by on his horse, but his eye caught mine, and in one swift moment, he nodded toward Jeremy and I, and then rode out to the other nobles stationed in the far right corner. That quick glance encouraged me to cheer up, and his piercing eyes almost told that this day would be one to remember, to say the least. I never thought I'd be prouder to do such a patriotic endeavor.
The enemy stopped approximately 150 yards away, too close in my opinion. For a few moments was as if time stood still. No one moved, everyone turned to watch what our fearless leader would do. I held my breath, as so many around me were doing. Wallace just stood, with the face of pure humor across his face as he stared deep into the eyes of a man too out of range to notice, but I'm almost positive the king felt William's intense look.
Suddenly, I saw a flag go up from an English soldier: infantry. The English were going to send out the Irish, supposedly Stephen's people. I was still skeptical, but kept to the plan. The Irish soldiers, dressed in not armor but simple clothes, started walking, then jogging towards us. We did likewise. Soon both of us were at a full run, heading straight towards each other. Was this going to work? Did everyone know what to do? I thought as I started to halt but ten feet from the oncoming swords. So did the enemy. It worked.
We embraced each other, and I shook hands with a middle aged looking Irish fellow with a beard dirtier than my old cat after a mud bath. Suddenly the fear flew passed me, and I even smiled as I saw scores of English faces look from left to right in surprise and embarrassment. I looked to Jeremy and grinned. So far so good. He grinned back.
I looked over my shoulder as Wallace delivered the signal, and fifty of our men assembled with arrows. I loved this part. This was what we had stayed up all last night to do, and the English would be in for another surprise.
The men bent their arrows into fiery buckets, and let the flames blast off into the air, their target the ground just in front of the English cavalry that was now coming at us full speed. The arrows hit their mark, and just as the horses and riders were about to descend upon us, the fire erupted from the ground, where we had so thoughtfully dumped the oil in a circle the night before. The fire trapped them, and soon all you could see was the black smoke arising, and the screams of anguish. It was both disturbing and pleasing, but I had no time to worry about it.
The king ordered the rest of his troops to attack, and they yelled their war cries, waving their swords at us. The next part of our plan was for our cavalry to come in and crush the other half of their infantry, and then we would win. But as I looked back, my heart started pounding. I couldn't believe my eyes, and I literally shook my head in disbelief. Wallace had raised the flag for the two nobles to lead the cavalry. But they were leaving. They turned their horses around and trotted away. This was not something William planned for. I looked over to the man, who stood about twenty feet away, and I saw the look of agony he bestowed. He felt utterly betrayed, and so did I. Jeremy and Owen pulled by me and saw what I was looking at. Their eyes rose too.
I wanted to go after those two and beat the living hell out of them, but I soon saw that now was not the time. The rest of the English infantry had hit us, and I needed to fight them, not the traitors. Men ran at right, and me left and I fought my way through them. Blood poured off their bodies and unto my face. My sword sliced through easily, and I barely got scratched, seeing as how these soldiers were not well trained in the art of the sword, which was pretty pathetic to me. I yelped as someone backed into me, and I fell to the ground.
I saw a mace swinging at my head, and I slid out of its way. I kicked the man in the face as he hunched over, and he fell to the ground. I looked to my left, and saw Douglas being tripped. An axe appeared in his enemy's hand, and I sliced him across the belly before he could kill my friend. Douglas nodded his thanks, and then leapt up to fight the next incoming men.
This went on for about ten more minutes, until I saw something flying through the air. Surely the king wouldn't jeopardize his own men by letting arrows fly at all of us. Could he be that cruel? Yes, my mind told me. And still they followed such a man.
As the arrows started to descend down on us, I flung myself forward and grabbed a shield off a dead Scotsman. I covered it over my head as they all hit both sides. I heard men screaming as blood trickled off their legs, butts, chests, and hearts. I then flung the shield off me to look around. Men were crawling on all fours, trying to run away from the chasing enemy. Both sides looked equal, but I knew we wouldn't come out the winner. Maybe no one would officially win this battle; but since this was only a portion of the English army, and this our whole army, I saw it as a loss.
A second fleet of arrows filled the sky, and I poured the shield over my head again, but this time a man tried to take it off me. I tugged and pulled, but he over powered me. The arrows came at me, and I could only run. I stopped when a pain surged in my leg, and I cursed as I looked and saw an arrow sticking out. I couldn't walk, and the impact of the pain caused me to fall. I fell overtop of a body, and as I tried to get up my body stopped moving. I couldn't breath. My eyes sat transfixed on what was below me. Tears stung at my eyes in an instant, and I shook my head with no conviction.
I watched Pierce's dead eyes, eyes that were open, staring blankly up at the sky. An arrow, hit in his heart, still clung to him. I started shaking, and realization hit that someone I knew would get hurt from this. I knew it. Yet I did not want to believe it. I stole my eyes off him, to look to see if anyone else was hurt or killed. The fighting had still not stopped, but it was dying. As was everyone.
An anger I had felt only once before when my father died filled me again, and I flew at the nearest English soldier I could, knocking him to the ground. He begged for mercy, and in turn I stuck my sword through his throat. No mercy. Not anymore. All my knowledge about life and death I learned on the road with the Scottish army was stolen away. I was now filled with the same resentment, fear, and hate I once felt before this all happened.
I screamed. Not a girly scream, but more of a war cry, as the others were doing. I ran at anyone I could, not caring whether they were wounded or running away. They all deserved to die. They needed to die. My leg still hurt, but I didn’t let that stop me. I think I would have killed every single Englishman still on the battlefield if not for Jeremy. He came to me, pulling me back as the English ran from us. I tried to fight him off, but I was weak, and instead I cried in his arms. "Pierce is dead, Jeremy. He's dead."
He held me. "I know. I saw him go down." We didn't speak, he just held me for a while, and I cried and cried. It occurred to me that I shouldn't be showing him a weakness in me, but I couldn't help it. I didn't care anymore. "Shh, its okay." Suddenly his eyes darted to my leg.
"Maura! Your hurt! Why didn't you tell me?!" He yelled.
"It's nothing," I said, though now at the mention of it the pain returned.
"Let's get you back." We hobbled off together, back to the camp where hundreds of our men would be, lying on the ground, trying to heal their own wounds. On our way back a sight caught my eye that made my hair stand. It was Stephen, riding towards us on a brown mare, with an unconscious Wallace wrapped in tow. Not Wallace. Anyone but him. I started running toward him, and as we entered the old camp I helped drag him off the horse.
"Is he alive?" I asked, hopeful.
Stephen nodded. I saw the arrow had just missed his heart, and was a little farther up, in his shoulder. He was still knocked out, though he kept muttering, "They all betrayed me, the Bruce."
Suddenly my eyes must have turned an icy gray color. "The Bruce betrayed us? No, William, not him. I've seen him before. He's different. He wouldn't do that." I looked up to Stephen.
"He did. But he felt bad about it. He didn't kill William, he told me to ride off. I don't know what to think of him."
"He's a bastard!" Jeremy stated, and I agreed. I immediately tended to Wallace, ripping out the arrow before he could awaken. I placed the burning iron rod into his skin. He stirred, but then blacked out again. I cleansed the burn, and then put a cold-water cloth over his forehead. His eyes started to open, but they fluttered around.
"Mullen" I gulped, a little embarrassed. "Princess Isabella¦" His eyes dilated, and he was out yet again. My leg burned. Yet I refused to tend to it. Jeremy tried to take it out, but I pushed him away.
A half hour later, as I went to the edge of the river to get some more water to put on his head, Jeremy called me over.
"He's stirring."
I looked, and sure enough, Wallace was awake fully now. Relief hit me like a rock. He would be okay. We would be okay. I gave him a sip of water, and he took it gratefully. "You okay? I timidly asked him. He sipped the water carefully, and then licked his lips. His eyes penetrated on mine. "No one is okay." I couldn't say anything to that, so I just nodded. I held the cloth over his head.
"Just make sure you never get hit again. You are our leader, after all. Where would we be without you?" I smiled, and then felt a little dizzy. My leg now was past burning it was numb. My head felt heavy. I wavered a little, and my eyes were getting blurry.
Suddenly I was flat out on the ground. "Maura!" Jeremy yelled. Darkness surrounded me.
~~~~
"You idiot!" That was the first thing I awoke to. I saw Jeremy hovering over me. I groaned. "You just couldn't see that you needed to be tended to too. You're a healer, Maura! You should KNOW that your leg might get infected if you didn't take care of right away! We almost lost you!" He screamed. It rang in my ear, and I wanted him to stop.
"Who's more important, me or Wallace?"
"He was going to be fine! You KNEW it! Yet you. Ah, I don't have to deal with this" He stormed out of the huge tent. I looked around for the first time. There were cots laid out, and I was on one of them. To my left was a young boy, no more than two years older than me, groaning in pain. One of his legs had been chopped off. I tried not to cringe. To my right laid an old man, maybe 70 years, muttering something as his eyes were closed. The smell was horrible. It reeked of death, something I didn't want to think about. So I had lived my first battle. And many had not.
Jeremy forbade me to leave the infirmary for a couple days. I tried to walk around a little, but it usually left me tired and weak. I saw Owen, his arm bandaged from some sword wounds, but otherwise okay. Douglas helped take care of the really injured ones, and he visited me often. Even Wallace visited me. He lied on a cot out of my sight, but he walked over one time.
"The men say you wouldn't take care of your own wounds because you were too busy fussing over me." I blushed a deep rose red.
He smiled. "Thank you, Maura. Again and again you prove yourself, and still that is not enough to you. Your one hard lass." To this he and I both laughed, and it felt good.
"Thank you, sir¦" he gave me a look. "I mean, thank you, William. For allowing me to come."
"Are you happy you came along on this journey of ours?"
"I might be dead if I hadn't." I said truthfully. He nodded.
"You're a fighter, Maura. Never give up. Never." With that same essence of authority he displayed every day, he left, and hobbled back to his cot on the other side of the tent. I had lived through my first battle, and even got a scar to prove it. I was Maura McColliny, female crusader. And I would not let my country down.
Then I thought back to what Hudson, wise simple-minded Hudson, told me, and I immediately gained back some confidence. The rumbling grew louder, and soon the most horrific sight appeared before my eyes as thousands of my enemies began to form onto the field, about two hundred yards away. My stomach began to churl as hundreds, maybe thousands of soldiers appeared in view, much outnumbering our band. Our cavalry consisted of two nobles and 60 horsemen. The English's cavalry was double that amount. A feeling of dread came over me, and all my fears came back.
A hand suddenly fell into mine and I felt a tight squeeze, I looked up to see Jeremy give me an assured look. "Don't worry, Maura, we'll be okay. After all, we got Wallace: they don't." That made me smile, and I nodded vigorously.
Pierce, Douglas, and Owen were behind me, and each put an arm on my shoulder. I knew they weren't doing it just to comfort me; after all, I was the only female figure on the field, and maybe they thought that a touch from me would be like reassurance from their mothers.
"Well, well, looks like the high king himself came to our little gathering. I feel honored," Pierce sneered. We all looked on, and sure enough, a figure beyond all his soldiers stood with the attire of only royalty. My heart skipped a beat. I was within range of the man that I hated more than anything in this world. He was my Satan, the devil that I longed to defeat. For it was he that caused all this blood.
Suddenly I felt a breeze from the left, and I looked and saw Wallace riding over here. His kind features that I had come to love were gone, and the only thing that remained smeared all over his face was the look of a savage. He trotted by on his horse, but his eye caught mine, and in one swift moment, he nodded toward Jeremy and I, and then rode out to the other nobles stationed in the far right corner. That quick glance encouraged me to cheer up, and his piercing eyes almost told that this day would be one to remember, to say the least. I never thought I'd be prouder to do such a patriotic endeavor.
The enemy stopped approximately 150 yards away, too close in my opinion. For a few moments was as if time stood still. No one moved, everyone turned to watch what our fearless leader would do. I held my breath, as so many around me were doing. Wallace just stood, with the face of pure humor across his face as he stared deep into the eyes of a man too out of range to notice, but I'm almost positive the king felt William's intense look.
Suddenly, I saw a flag go up from an English soldier: infantry. The English were going to send out the Irish, supposedly Stephen's people. I was still skeptical, but kept to the plan. The Irish soldiers, dressed in not armor but simple clothes, started walking, then jogging towards us. We did likewise. Soon both of us were at a full run, heading straight towards each other. Was this going to work? Did everyone know what to do? I thought as I started to halt but ten feet from the oncoming swords. So did the enemy. It worked.
We embraced each other, and I shook hands with a middle aged looking Irish fellow with a beard dirtier than my old cat after a mud bath. Suddenly the fear flew passed me, and I even smiled as I saw scores of English faces look from left to right in surprise and embarrassment. I looked to Jeremy and grinned. So far so good. He grinned back.
I looked over my shoulder as Wallace delivered the signal, and fifty of our men assembled with arrows. I loved this part. This was what we had stayed up all last night to do, and the English would be in for another surprise.
The men bent their arrows into fiery buckets, and let the flames blast off into the air, their target the ground just in front of the English cavalry that was now coming at us full speed. The arrows hit their mark, and just as the horses and riders were about to descend upon us, the fire erupted from the ground, where we had so thoughtfully dumped the oil in a circle the night before. The fire trapped them, and soon all you could see was the black smoke arising, and the screams of anguish. It was both disturbing and pleasing, but I had no time to worry about it.
The king ordered the rest of his troops to attack, and they yelled their war cries, waving their swords at us. The next part of our plan was for our cavalry to come in and crush the other half of their infantry, and then we would win. But as I looked back, my heart started pounding. I couldn't believe my eyes, and I literally shook my head in disbelief. Wallace had raised the flag for the two nobles to lead the cavalry. But they were leaving. They turned their horses around and trotted away. This was not something William planned for. I looked over to the man, who stood about twenty feet away, and I saw the look of agony he bestowed. He felt utterly betrayed, and so did I. Jeremy and Owen pulled by me and saw what I was looking at. Their eyes rose too.
I wanted to go after those two and beat the living hell out of them, but I soon saw that now was not the time. The rest of the English infantry had hit us, and I needed to fight them, not the traitors. Men ran at right, and me left and I fought my way through them. Blood poured off their bodies and unto my face. My sword sliced through easily, and I barely got scratched, seeing as how these soldiers were not well trained in the art of the sword, which was pretty pathetic to me. I yelped as someone backed into me, and I fell to the ground.
I saw a mace swinging at my head, and I slid out of its way. I kicked the man in the face as he hunched over, and he fell to the ground. I looked to my left, and saw Douglas being tripped. An axe appeared in his enemy's hand, and I sliced him across the belly before he could kill my friend. Douglas nodded his thanks, and then leapt up to fight the next incoming men.
This went on for about ten more minutes, until I saw something flying through the air. Surely the king wouldn't jeopardize his own men by letting arrows fly at all of us. Could he be that cruel? Yes, my mind told me. And still they followed such a man.
As the arrows started to descend down on us, I flung myself forward and grabbed a shield off a dead Scotsman. I covered it over my head as they all hit both sides. I heard men screaming as blood trickled off their legs, butts, chests, and hearts. I then flung the shield off me to look around. Men were crawling on all fours, trying to run away from the chasing enemy. Both sides looked equal, but I knew we wouldn't come out the winner. Maybe no one would officially win this battle; but since this was only a portion of the English army, and this our whole army, I saw it as a loss.
A second fleet of arrows filled the sky, and I poured the shield over my head again, but this time a man tried to take it off me. I tugged and pulled, but he over powered me. The arrows came at me, and I could only run. I stopped when a pain surged in my leg, and I cursed as I looked and saw an arrow sticking out. I couldn't walk, and the impact of the pain caused me to fall. I fell overtop of a body, and as I tried to get up my body stopped moving. I couldn't breath. My eyes sat transfixed on what was below me. Tears stung at my eyes in an instant, and I shook my head with no conviction.
I watched Pierce's dead eyes, eyes that were open, staring blankly up at the sky. An arrow, hit in his heart, still clung to him. I started shaking, and realization hit that someone I knew would get hurt from this. I knew it. Yet I did not want to believe it. I stole my eyes off him, to look to see if anyone else was hurt or killed. The fighting had still not stopped, but it was dying. As was everyone.
An anger I had felt only once before when my father died filled me again, and I flew at the nearest English soldier I could, knocking him to the ground. He begged for mercy, and in turn I stuck my sword through his throat. No mercy. Not anymore. All my knowledge about life and death I learned on the road with the Scottish army was stolen away. I was now filled with the same resentment, fear, and hate I once felt before this all happened.
I screamed. Not a girly scream, but more of a war cry, as the others were doing. I ran at anyone I could, not caring whether they were wounded or running away. They all deserved to die. They needed to die. My leg still hurt, but I didn’t let that stop me. I think I would have killed every single Englishman still on the battlefield if not for Jeremy. He came to me, pulling me back as the English ran from us. I tried to fight him off, but I was weak, and instead I cried in his arms. "Pierce is dead, Jeremy. He's dead."
He held me. "I know. I saw him go down." We didn't speak, he just held me for a while, and I cried and cried. It occurred to me that I shouldn't be showing him a weakness in me, but I couldn't help it. I didn't care anymore. "Shh, its okay." Suddenly his eyes darted to my leg.
"Maura! Your hurt! Why didn't you tell me?!" He yelled.
"It's nothing," I said, though now at the mention of it the pain returned.
"Let's get you back." We hobbled off together, back to the camp where hundreds of our men would be, lying on the ground, trying to heal their own wounds. On our way back a sight caught my eye that made my hair stand. It was Stephen, riding towards us on a brown mare, with an unconscious Wallace wrapped in tow. Not Wallace. Anyone but him. I started running toward him, and as we entered the old camp I helped drag him off the horse.
"Is he alive?" I asked, hopeful.
Stephen nodded. I saw the arrow had just missed his heart, and was a little farther up, in his shoulder. He was still knocked out, though he kept muttering, "They all betrayed me, the Bruce."
Suddenly my eyes must have turned an icy gray color. "The Bruce betrayed us? No, William, not him. I've seen him before. He's different. He wouldn't do that." I looked up to Stephen.
"He did. But he felt bad about it. He didn't kill William, he told me to ride off. I don't know what to think of him."
"He's a bastard!" Jeremy stated, and I agreed. I immediately tended to Wallace, ripping out the arrow before he could awaken. I placed the burning iron rod into his skin. He stirred, but then blacked out again. I cleansed the burn, and then put a cold-water cloth over his forehead. His eyes started to open, but they fluttered around.
"Mullen" I gulped, a little embarrassed. "Princess Isabella¦" His eyes dilated, and he was out yet again. My leg burned. Yet I refused to tend to it. Jeremy tried to take it out, but I pushed him away.
A half hour later, as I went to the edge of the river to get some more water to put on his head, Jeremy called me over.
"He's stirring."
I looked, and sure enough, Wallace was awake fully now. Relief hit me like a rock. He would be okay. We would be okay. I gave him a sip of water, and he took it gratefully. "You okay? I timidly asked him. He sipped the water carefully, and then licked his lips. His eyes penetrated on mine. "No one is okay." I couldn't say anything to that, so I just nodded. I held the cloth over his head.
"Just make sure you never get hit again. You are our leader, after all. Where would we be without you?" I smiled, and then felt a little dizzy. My leg now was past burning it was numb. My head felt heavy. I wavered a little, and my eyes were getting blurry.
Suddenly I was flat out on the ground. "Maura!" Jeremy yelled. Darkness surrounded me.
~~~~
"You idiot!" That was the first thing I awoke to. I saw Jeremy hovering over me. I groaned. "You just couldn't see that you needed to be tended to too. You're a healer, Maura! You should KNOW that your leg might get infected if you didn't take care of right away! We almost lost you!" He screamed. It rang in my ear, and I wanted him to stop.
"Who's more important, me or Wallace?"
"He was going to be fine! You KNEW it! Yet you. Ah, I don't have to deal with this" He stormed out of the huge tent. I looked around for the first time. There were cots laid out, and I was on one of them. To my left was a young boy, no more than two years older than me, groaning in pain. One of his legs had been chopped off. I tried not to cringe. To my right laid an old man, maybe 70 years, muttering something as his eyes were closed. The smell was horrible. It reeked of death, something I didn't want to think about. So I had lived my first battle. And many had not.
Jeremy forbade me to leave the infirmary for a couple days. I tried to walk around a little, but it usually left me tired and weak. I saw Owen, his arm bandaged from some sword wounds, but otherwise okay. Douglas helped take care of the really injured ones, and he visited me often. Even Wallace visited me. He lied on a cot out of my sight, but he walked over one time.
"The men say you wouldn't take care of your own wounds because you were too busy fussing over me." I blushed a deep rose red.
He smiled. "Thank you, Maura. Again and again you prove yourself, and still that is not enough to you. Your one hard lass." To this he and I both laughed, and it felt good.
"Thank you, sir¦" he gave me a look. "I mean, thank you, William. For allowing me to come."
"Are you happy you came along on this journey of ours?"
"I might be dead if I hadn't." I said truthfully. He nodded.
"You're a fighter, Maura. Never give up. Never." With that same essence of authority he displayed every day, he left, and hobbled back to his cot on the other side of the tent. I had lived through my first battle, and even got a scar to prove it. I was Maura McColliny, female crusader. And I would not let my country down.