Falkirk slipped free of his saddle...February 10 2012 at 7:50 PM
|Falkirk, Lord Liddesdale |
Response to Morning came early...
and dropped to the ground. He none too gently prodded the ribs of the man lying at his feet with the toe of his boot and when he got no reaction, he used his foot to flip the body over. He could see that a single thrust to the heart had caused this mans death. Going to the next man he needed no such measures, for this was the man Gruffydd had hit in the eye with the arrow Falkirk had tossed him. Falkirk grinned softly to himself. He would add this to the report, which he carried in his inner pocket.
The toe of his boot drew a moan from the next man. He was injured badly enough that he would not live to see the night if he was not treated immediately. Falkirk saw that the man was still little more than a lad, the first downy stubble of a beard making its appearance on his cheeks.
"Elspeth," he called out, "Help this one. He is still but a child, alive, but barely, and if treated may yet live to see the error of his ways."
With the help of the others, he found that five of the group, which had attacked them, were dead. Six had been able to make their escape and the remainder had taken various wounds.
Once they least of the wounds had been properly treated and the men judged fit enough, Falkirk, Beathan, Kent and Gruffydd watched as the dead were buried. They made sure that proper, but somewhat shallow, graves were dug for each man. This was necessitated by the very rocky nature of the land along the Tweedbank.
When all had been interred and a prayer said the remaining men mounted their horses, and then had their hands bound before them, so that they could hold their reins.
As part of the binding, Falkirk mad sure that they could not raise their hands more than a foot. This prevented them from using their teeth to loosen their bonds. Not that it would have done then much good even if they had been able to free themselves in such a manner, for Gruffydd and Beathan rode directly behind them, bows in hand, with an arrow knocked to the string.
It was decided that the men would be taken to the Gaol in Pebbles. There, it would be up to the sheriff to decide what to do with them. No doubt they would be held for trial and taken before the local magistrate, who just happened to be Judge John Armstrong, currently residing at the Sleeping Dragon Inn. Before him, they would receive fair and impartial justice.