“Fair guess,” agreed Jackson. “But these lads will not cry quarter unless they’re seriously beaten. I know that from their reputation.”
“Still, it means they won’t have any personal loyalty to that monster. If we can capture . . .” He turned and signaled for Sergeant Hartag. “What’s the lie of the land? On foot or horse?”
“Foot, I think, Lieutenant. Too noisy getting the horses in place in the evening, and if we get close before we spring the attack, we have a better chance of taking charge of the fray.”
“On foot, then,” agreed William. “Take half the men and go with Jackson. Picket the horses and get as close to the other side of their camp as you can. Deploy your archers to one side. They’ll signal when they’re ready. We’ll need their covering fire to make sure that none of these ruffians escape. If you get into trouble, lead them toward the trees, then disengage and let the archers cut them down.
“Wait until you hear us attack from this side of the trail and then go in fast and hard. But remember -I want at least one of them taken alive.” To Jackson he added, “Go now, tell Marie to meet me at the trail, then get these men into place.”
The Pathfinder nodded, mounted his horse, and rode off. In moments the sergeant had all the men mounted, and the company divided into two squads, and he led the first up the trail to rendezvous with the Pathfinders. William waited until they were well along the trail, then gave the order for his own squad to follow.
Riding into the gloom of the woodlands, William could feel his anticipation mounting. Soon he would know where Bear was hiding, and then he would face him.
The men waited for the signal. William had inspected the enemy camp and was forced to admit that the men he faced were seasoned professionals. There were about thirty of them, and while they had elected to sleep on the ground, they had still picked the most defensible site in the clearing, atop a small hillock, with clear lines of sight in all directions. The good news was that they hadn’t bothered making any sort of defenses. Even a rude earthen berm fortified with cut stakes would have proven a hindrance for William’s men. These men were obviously in a hurry, making camp just before nightfall, probably planning on breaking camp at first light. They would set sentries, and those would be vigilant.
William waited until the sun had set low enough past the distant hills to throw the entire landscape into a chiaroscuro of dark gray and black. He devised a plan and relayed his orders to his archers. Five of the dozen men with him would hang back.
. William motioned with his sword, and walked out into the clearing, seven men walking easily alongside him. He had covered a dozen yards when a voice called out from the camp. “Who goes there?”
“Hello, the camp!” William shouted, continuing to walk casually. “I seek the Grey Talon company.”
“Well, you’ve found them,” came the response. “Come no closer!”
William stopped. “I bring a message for Bear.” The agreed-upon signal to the archers was the word “Bear.”
As the sentry was about to answer, five arrows shot overhead and William shouted, “Now!”
The archers had picked their targets well, and before they realized they were under siege, five of the mercenaries were down. More arrows flew from the other side, and William realized Sergeant Hartag had his own bowmen ready.
From both sides of the camp, soldiers of the Kingdom appeared, while the Grey Talon mercenaries grabbed their weapons and made ready to answer the attack. William charged the nearest sentry, who raised his shield to take the blow from William’s large hand-and-a-half sword. William started to swing downward, then turned the blade in an elliptical swing that brought the huge blade crashing into the side of the shield, knocking it aside, and turning the soldier so he couldn’t return the blow, since his sword-arm was now away from William. As the sentry turned to strike, William swept his blade downward from the shield, slashing the back of the man’s leg, hamstringing him. The man went down with a cry and William kicked him over with his left leg. The mercenary wasn’t dead, but he wouldn’t be fighting. William wanted prisoners. William wanted to know where he could find Bear.