‘That’s our cue,’ Roul shouted, heels digging into the sides of his mount.
As if sensing the danger, the horses came alive, lifting their heads and flattening their ears as they sped up.
Eda did as she was told, remaining close to Becket while keeping a hold of Hadewaye’s horse. The youngest defender was bouncing so hard in the saddle she was sure the rope holding him would snap and he would fall. Woottone just held on to the saddle, trusting his horse would follow the others.
Eda told herself she was not going to look back, but she could not help it. The soldiers had spotted them and were in pursuit now. They knew once they reached the gate it was all over.
The distressed bray of a donkey falling behind had Eda facing forwards again.
There was nothing she could do.
The dog was whining excitedly now.
‘They’re still too far out to shoot,’ Roul said. ‘Save your arrows.’
Behind her, Alveye’s horse tripped, nose diving into the ground. Roul reached for the defender as he went down, swinging him up behind him. Eda tried to block it all out.
Get the prince to the gate.
Do not stop.
No matter what.
But she could not ignore the yelping and the thunderous hooves closing in on them—and they were still a mile from the wall.
Hiss.
The English released their first arrow, but it fell short. Eda waited until they were within range, then turned to shoot. So long as she did not slow or stop, she was not technically disobeying orders.
When they were half a mile out, Blackmane brought his fingers to his mouth, emitting a long whistle to warn the defenders atop the wall of their approach.
An arrow passed between Eda and the prince. Then another. Woottone somehow managed to manoeuvre his horse behind Becket’s, shielding him. Eda turned once more and took aim, trying hard to ignore the galloping donkey caught in the crossfire. She hit a soldier through the chest. He toppled backwards off his horse.
A horn sounded from the wall, making the soldiers lower their bows and look up. Ahead, Eda could hear the comforting sound of the portcullis being raised.
They were so close now.
Facing forwards, Eda pushed her horse faster. ‘Ha!’ Prince Becket’s horse lengthened its stride. Another arrow flew past Eda, but she barely noticed it because she was focused only on the gate. Another hundred yards and they would be through it.
But then Hadewaye’s horse slowed suddenly, the reins of his horse pulling from her hand. When she looked back, she found Hadewaye hanging from the side of the horse, his feet dragging along the ground. Blackmane veered closer, reaching for the defender with his good arm. But the rope holding Hadewaye snapped, and he tumbled beneath Blackmane’s horse.
She was supposed to get the prince to the gate. That was her job. But she could not leave Hadewaye behind.
‘Make sure he gets to the gate,’ she shouted at Blackmane before swinging her horse around and returning to the motionless defender. Dismounting, she dragged Hadewaye’s arm around her shoulders. There was no way she could get him onto the horse alone, so they would have to finish on foot.
‘Slow down and shield Suttone!’ Roul shouted when he caught sight of her ahead of them.
Eda looked to the gate, relieved when she saw Becket, Woottone, and Blackmane pass through it. ‘I need your help,’ she told Hadewaye. ‘I need you to run.’
His movements were sloppy but helpful.
The English soldiers pulled their horses up just out of reach of the arrows pointed at them from atop the wall, which meant the fight remained between those on the ground. Eda and Hadewaye were twenty yards from the gate when he fell, causing them both to go down. She was straight back up on her feet, dragging him forwards. Blackmane appeared, taking his other arm and wincing as he lifted the defender off the ground. Then they were running for the gate, then through it.Alive. Alive with no arrows in their backs. Eda lowered Hadewaye to the ground and turned back to make sure the others were behind her.
They were not.
‘Turn around now and we’ll let you live,’ Roul shouted, competing with the barking dog. ‘You can return to Harlech Castle and tell Lord Roger the good news. Prince Becket is safely home. Or you shoot us, and a hundred defenders on fresh horses, with superior aim, will hunt you down.’
The soldiers lowered their bows and silenced the dog, defeated and exhausted from their efforts. The three defenders turned their horses and cantered for the gate. As soon as they rode beneath the archway, the portcullis began to lower.
