The Rebel...Part 3
Forest Clearing 26th August 1668 – 3 hours past meridian
Bartholomew raised a clenched fist, a signal to halt. He had found a perfect spot to ambush Jebediah’s captors. Then came the distant rumble of dozens of foot soldiers marching. The boys shivered in terror. Bartholomew gave them instructions to fire at the men on horseback first – the officers.
An officer of the British Empire rode at the head of his men. They had just captured a member of the opposing army and were leading him back to camp to gain information. He was prepared to use any means. Suddenly, a shot rang out in the forest. The officer never knew what hit him. He felt a searing pain through his abdomen; fresh blood flowed forth from his mouth. Within seconds, he fell off his mount, dead. The convoy was thrown into confusion. The Wallace boys zeroed in on the officers and fired. Both fell off their horses, lifeless. The soldiers attention was turned towards the trees where smoked had first emerged. They commenced firing. The Wallaces ducked in lieu of the flying splinters of wood where the British shells had been fired. As the dense vegetation obscured visibility, the redcoats were firing at whatever caught their attention. But the Wallaces precise firing trimmed and thinned the ranks considerably. When eldest Wallace decided it was the ripe time he motioned for the boys to cover him, while he ventured into the enemies’ ranks and engaged in hand-to-hand combat.
The British advanced towards Bartholomew and tried to bring him down using their bayonets. He rushed forward in a semi-crazed state, wielding his battleaxe like a drunkard, clumsy yet forceful. Each stroke of his arm caught a soldier and brought him down. Their ranks yet thinned again under the firing of rifles and the power of Bartholomew’s sword arm. Only a small band of men was left, Bartholomew counted eight bruised and fatigued men. They ran forward each crying “ For the King and England!!” They managed to wound the drained warrior that had murdered so many of their comrades. With renewed vivacity, Bartholomew rushed forward and brought down the remainder of the soldiers. One man stood against him, the officer that ordered the torching of his house. He whimpered in trepidation as Bartholomew slowly yet surely inched his way towards him. Against this bloodthirsty and revenge crazed assailant, he fled. Bartholomew did not move to chase. Instead, he clasped the battleaxe in both hands and brought it high over his head. With a single fluid motion, he flung the weapon. The battleaxe caught the coward square between his shoulders, and what came was a sickening sound of tearing sinews. He opened his mouth to scream, but all that was heard were frantic gasps of air. Bartholomew lunged forward to retrieve that lethal blade from the fatally wounded officer. In a pool of his own blood, the sergeant gasped for breath knowing he was within Death’s reach. The clearing was now bereft of any life, except for the Wallaces and the dying officer. Rage coursed through Bartholomew’ soul, at the spur of the moment, he hacked at the dying sergeant relentlessly, not stopping until he was reminded of the presence of the younger Wallace boys. His eyes were dazed by this encounter. Soft grunts sounded from underneath a dead horse. As the Wallaces approached the dead mount a pair of hands were flailing aimlessly. Engrossed with this killing spree, the Wallaces had forgotten their aim of this ambush. With great effort, they managed to shift the mangled carcass of the animal. Lying underneath were two men – Jebediah and another soldier that had blood streaming from his temple. Before he could even reach for his battleaxe, the soldier fled in terror. Martin raised his already cocked rifle to fire, but Bartholomew pushed his musket down. “ Let him go. Let him know that I am not to be trifled with.” Bartholomew slowly raised his son to his feet, both men, drain of whatever energy that they possessed. They trudged towards the carriage that was the only structure that stood on the scene of carnage. They headed towards Aunt Charlotte’s abode.
Bartholomew raised a clenched fist, a signal to halt. He had found a perfect spot to ambush Jebediah’s captors. Then came the distant rumble of dozens of foot soldiers marching. The boys shivered in terror. Bartholomew gave them instructions to fire at the men on horseback first – the officers.
An officer of the British Empire rode at the head of his men. They had just captured a member of the opposing army and were leading him back to camp to gain information. He was prepared to use any means. Suddenly, a shot rang out in the forest. The officer never knew what hit him. He felt a searing pain through his abdomen; fresh blood flowed forth from his mouth. Within seconds, he fell off his mount, dead. The convoy was thrown into confusion. The Wallace boys zeroed in on the officers and fired. Both fell off their horses, lifeless. The soldiers attention was turned towards the trees where smoked had first emerged. They commenced firing. The Wallaces ducked in lieu of the flying splinters of wood where the British shells had been fired. As the dense vegetation obscured visibility, the redcoats were firing at whatever caught their attention. But the Wallaces precise firing trimmed and thinned the ranks considerably. When eldest Wallace decided it was the ripe time he motioned for the boys to cover him, while he ventured into the enemies’ ranks and engaged in hand-to-hand combat.
The British advanced towards Bartholomew and tried to bring him down using their bayonets. He rushed forward in a semi-crazed state, wielding his battleaxe like a drunkard, clumsy yet forceful. Each stroke of his arm caught a soldier and brought him down. Their ranks yet thinned again under the firing of rifles and the power of Bartholomew’s sword arm. Only a small band of men was left, Bartholomew counted eight bruised and fatigued men. They ran forward each crying “ For the King and England!!” They managed to wound the drained warrior that had murdered so many of their comrades. With renewed vivacity, Bartholomew rushed forward and brought down the remainder of the soldiers. One man stood against him, the officer that ordered the torching of his house. He whimpered in trepidation as Bartholomew slowly yet surely inched his way towards him. Against this bloodthirsty and revenge crazed assailant, he fled. Bartholomew did not move to chase. Instead, he clasped the battleaxe in both hands and brought it high over his head. With a single fluid motion, he flung the weapon. The battleaxe caught the coward square between his shoulders, and what came was a sickening sound of tearing sinews. He opened his mouth to scream, but all that was heard were frantic gasps of air. Bartholomew lunged forward to retrieve that lethal blade from the fatally wounded officer. In a pool of his own blood, the sergeant gasped for breath knowing he was within Death’s reach. The clearing was now bereft of any life, except for the Wallaces and the dying officer. Rage coursed through Bartholomew’ soul, at the spur of the moment, he hacked at the dying sergeant relentlessly, not stopping until he was reminded of the presence of the younger Wallace boys. His eyes were dazed by this encounter. Soft grunts sounded from underneath a dead horse. As the Wallaces approached the dead mount a pair of hands were flailing aimlessly. Engrossed with this killing spree, the Wallaces had forgotten their aim of this ambush. With great effort, they managed to shift the mangled carcass of the animal. Lying underneath were two men – Jebediah and another soldier that had blood streaming from his temple. Before he could even reach for his battleaxe, the soldier fled in terror. Martin raised his already cocked rifle to fire, but Bartholomew pushed his musket down. “ Let him go. Let him know that I am not to be trifled with.” Bartholomew slowly raised his son to his feet, both men, drain of whatever energy that they possessed. They trudged towards the carriage that was the only structure that stood on the scene of carnage. They headed towards Aunt Charlotte’s abode.
posted by Gabriel at 12:05 am
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