The High Road (On Hold)

Chapter Eighteen

          "If we continue the trek within the hour we might pass through Northern Gate. But the men are fatigued and we still need bury the dead." Stéaphan nodded as Meriadoc spoke. The captain let out a deep sigh. "We must begin to bury them now. How many men have we left?"

"Fifty-one militiamen, eighteen English knights," Meriadoc said with a solemn look on his face.

"Call twenty of the men to begin digging. We must lay the bodies and leave quickly. There may yet be more of them lurking about."

"Aye," Meriadoc responded as he started off toward the other soldiers.

Stéaphan turned about and looked on his men. He could see that Meriadoc had started to gather a group to being the digging on the side of the road. The rest of the men piled bodies or weapons. Stéaphan breathed another sigh and sat down on the beaten dirt of the road.

They are my responsibility, he thought to himself. My men to command. Mine to keep.

He began to feel tears well up in his eyes, but he quickly rubbed them away. He refused to cry for the dead. He quickly stood up and started for the carriage.

The wooden carriage was guarded on all sides now. Two knights posted just outside the door whose eyes narrowed as Stéaphan approached. The guard on his left held up his hand as if to stop the captain from advancing and loudly said, "The Princess will see no one now."

Christelle's voice came from inside the carriage: "Who is there, Rufus?" she asked.

"One of the Scotsmen, milady. I told 'im you're to see no one now."

Stéaphan interjected saying, "It is captain Stéaphan, your majesty. I only wish to apologize for these recent events and ask your well-being as well as the lady Madewin's."

"I am well enough off, captain, as is she. Her wits came back to her some time ago."

"I am glad, my lady. Once again, I am sorry this happened and I assure you that my men are taking every precaution to ensure that nothing like it happens again."

"Thank you, captain," Christelle said.

"Farewell, Princess."

"Fare thee well, captain Stéaphan." The guards sneered at the captain as he departed.

Flies began to buzz around the bodies. Decay would soon take them. Urgency bid the soldiers to dig quickly and lay the bodies. One single trench long and deep enough to cover all the bodies of the fallen was dug. The corpses of the attackers were merely heaved into the woods to be meals for the wolves and carrion birds.

Stéaphan, after discovering that the unit's chaplain had died in the skirmish, decided he would administer the dead their proper Christian respect. After the unit had gathered in formation, he addressed them:

"Well lads...God deemed it fit to take these proud men from His earth. Although we might not understand why, He does His will for a reason. An' now these bonny boys live with the Almighty in the life to come. So mourn not for our fallen brothers, but be glad they have quit the sodden life of a soldier!"

The captain noticed a few solemn smiles in the formation, silently pondering over their lost comrades. Never had Stéaphan delivered a speech like this; he only hoped that he did not appear as nervous as he felt.

"But now we must continue our trek to the capitol. Form up then, lads! We march soon!"

The unit fell out and positioned themselves as best they could to mimic their pre-attack marching formation. Meriadoc approached Stéaphan and spoke: