“Leave them to me! This is fine work, and you’d muddle it!”
Ere the words had ceased to echo another horse was down.
Then, as those who remained still came on, urged by the knight who ran shouting behind them, all loosed, and though some arrows went wide, the end of it was that ere they reached the little mound every Clavering horse was dead or sore wounded, while on the heath stood or lay seven helpless men.
“Now,” said Grey Dick, “let us go and talk with these foot-soldiers.”
So they went out, all of them, except he who had the horses, and Hugh called aloud that the first man of the Claverings who lifted a bow or drew a sword should die without mercy. And he pointed to Grey Dick, who stood beside him, arrow on string.
The Claverings began to talk together excitedly.
“Throw down your weapons!” commanded Hugh.
Still they hesitated. Then, without further warning Dick sent an artful arrow through the cap of one of them, lifting it from his head, and instantly set another shaft to his string. After this, down went the swords and bows.
“Daggers and knives, too, if it please you, masters!”
Then these followed.