Cole watched the silhouettes of men move around on the shore. “That was my thought as well,” he muttered. “But it also means the gates to the castle are open from the river, or at the very least, accessible. Julian, if I can give the Scots a moment of confusion, can you and Essien run onto shore and keep those gates open for the rest of us?”
Julian was peering at the two short, stumpy towers near the water’s edge. “Aye,” he said. “But we will have to prevent those men from reaching the castle and alerting the garrison.”
“Do what you must. You are a de Velt and we do not fail.”
Julian nodded firmly. “I will not be the first to do so.”
“Good,” Cole muttered. “Gather the men close. Those on ropes need to be pulled forward so they can touch the ground. I am going to distract these Scots as much as I can, but we must allrise from the river in a group and charge them. No survivors, no witnesses. Is that understood?”
The men nearest him nodded, passing the word back. When the men on ropes were being pulled onto the shore where they could stand, Cole turned his attention back to the Scots in the distance.
“We move,” he said. “Julian, you and Es get to that gate. Don’t even try to fight any Scots trying to stop you. Leap over them if you have to. Just get to the gate.”
Julian and Essien were laying low, moving closer to the shoreline, as Cole finally stood up and started walking towards the shore.
“Bhràithrean!” he called, lifting a hand. “Tha sinn air teicheadh às na Sasannaich. An urrainn dhut mo chuideachadh?”
Brothers, we’ve survived the English. Can you help us?
The Scots saw him coming out of the water, a dark silhouette against the night, and instantly moved into a defensive position, but his words were purely Gaelic. He sounded very much like a Scotsman. It was enough of a pause for Julian and Essien to gain their footing and bolt, running straight at the group of Scots. The sun was mostly set, and there were a few torches lit, so they had enough light to see by. They could see the shocked faces of the Scots, having no idea why men were charging out of the water towards them.
“Bhràithrean, an cuidich thu sinn?” Cole said again.
Brothers, will you please help us?
The words, the actions, were confusing, enough to stump the Scots. Julian and Essien barreled through a group of them, seeing an open iron grate in the wall of one of the stumpy towers. As Julian rushed through it, he realized that it led to a barbican that protected a staircase all the way to the castle.
And there was no one between them and the castle.
“Cole!” he cried. “We’re clear!”
That was all Cole needed to hear. Unsheathing his broadsword, it was the signal to his men to charge, and charge they did. One hundred Englishmen rushed the shore where about forty Scots were standing and they never had a chance. The problem was not letting anyone from the castle see what was going on, so they shoved them back against the walls at an angle that made it difficult to see from the castle. More importantly, they had to eliminate their ability to shout, so throats were cut from the outset.
Bodies were falling in groups.
Almost as quickly as it started, it was over.
“The castle, Cole,” Addax said, his dagger dripping with blood. “We must breach the castle now.”
Cole knew that. There were still some Scotsmen alive, but Cole gave the order to kill every last man and throw their bodies in the river. He left ten men down on the river’s edge to accomplish this and watch the river gate while he took the rest of his men and began to charge up the steep staircase towards the castle. With Julian at his side, and Addax and Essien behind them, they were prepared to do battle.
The sons of Jax de Velt were on a rampage.
Once inside the castle, they encountered far more resistance. A few hundred Scots were caught by surprise, but once they realized they were being infiltrated by the English, the swords and axes came out.
The fight for Berwick Castle began in earnest.
*
“What happened?”
The question came from Christopher to a wounded soldier. There were several more wounded soldiers littering the area,most of them old men who had been stationed to the rear with the provisions and surgeon’s wagons. Several of them were badly injured and there were even a few dead.
It was clear that something bad had happened.
This was the scene that Christopher and Alastor and Teviot came across as they moved their armies towards the Ord Crossing– the encampment they’d left behind in shambles. Those men that were able to walk were heading in Christopher’s direction like the walking wounded.
It was a shocking sight.
