The Betrayal of Father Tuck: An Outlaw Chronicles short story Read Online Free PDF Page A

prevent her, or any other member of my family, suffering further injury at that foul dog’s hands that my men and I stand here today. But I will not speak of it again, Father, rest assured. I have already sworn that to you, at Edwinstowe. I do not wish to have salacious tales concerning members of my family bandied about. And I charge you, equally, on your honour, to say no more on this matter to anyone. Ever.’
    ‘Thank you,’ said Tuck.
    ***
    The enemy formed up in companies of fifty to sixty men-at-arms, each commanded by two or three knights; four companies in all, perhaps half of their full strength, Tuck calculated, as he watched the men being roughly pushed into their positions by the captains and their vintenars. Three of the companies had been formed down by the church, two hundred and fifty yards to the south-east, three dark blocks of foot soldiers under three gaudy, fluttering banners. They had ladders, the priest noted, plenty of them, but there was no sign of artillery, none of the big machines for hurling great stones at the wooden battlements – presumably Murdac did not feel the need. And no battering ram, as far as he could tell. The men would come on confidently, straight at the front gate, set their ladders and attempt to scramble up and over the wall, trusting to their superior numbers to give them the advantage over their well-protected enemies above. More than a hundred and fifty men would come against the main gate in one swift overwhelming rush. And Kirkton had half that number to repulse them. And while it was trying to keep the barbarians from the gates, the fourth company, held in reserve well to the north of the castle, would no doubt choose its moment and attack from the flank.
    It was a good plan, Tuck conceded. The enemy was rightly confident. While the Locksley and Edwinstowe men were valiantly fighting at the main gate, the second, smaller, single-company attack would overrun the northern walls, and once they were over the battlements the slaughter would begin. Women, children and servants all put to the sword – and the Locksley men-at-arms on the walls would surely quit their posts to protect them, leaving too few men to hold the gates against the enemy. If Tuck chose to divide his force, sending, say, a quarter of his men to the northern walls to guard against the flank attack, he weakened his defences above the main gate, perhaps with disastrous consequences. Yes, Tuck said to himself, Murdac’s plan wasn’t bad at all.
    But neither Murdac’s banner nor the man himself was evident in the three massed blocks of infantry by the church, nor in the smaller force to the north. Tuck assumed that he was taking his ease in his striped pavilion, and planned to ride through the shattered gates of the castle in triumph when his men had battered Kirkton into submission. Tuck turned to Lord Edwinstowe, who was standing silently beside him, and said, ‘My lord, will you take the defence of the main gate? I will give all of the Kirkton men-at-arms into your hand, and with your own men you will then have sixty fighters to hold that portal.’
    Edwinstowe grunted. ‘Hope your men can fight. Will you garrison the tower?’
    Tuck looked behind him at the keep, the stronghold that was the castle’s last line of defence. ‘No, my lord, I do not think so. The women, servants and local folk can shelter in there but I will take my twenty archers and stand yonder on the walls.’ He pointed to the corner of the castle walls where the battlements turned north-west. ‘From there I can command the northern approach and enfilade the main attack on the gate.’
    Edwinstowe nodded. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘You do not want some of my swordsmen to ward against the northern attack?’
    ‘No, I will not weaken your command at the gate. We shall stop them with these,’ – and Tuck lightly slapped the full linen arrow bag that swung from his belt.
    A brass trumpet sounded down by the church, an ugly braying