The main entrance and this portion being on opposite sides of the castle gave the attackers an advantage, inasmuch as the besieged would be compelled to divide their numbers instead of concentrating the whole of their forces in one spot.
"Bravely thought of, young sir," exclaimed Sir Brian. "Give my fellows but a footing in the gateway, and they'll serve yon villains as did the blessed St. Patrick the serpents in ould Ireland."
"Saving thy presence, sir," quoth the master bowman. "Our stock of arrows is but scanty. Already many of the archers have empty quivers."
"Then I pray thee bid them husband their shafts," replied Geoffrey. "Without a covering flight the escalade will assuredly be a doubly-hard task. Art ready, Sir Brian?"
Supported by a steady discharge of arrows a body of the Irish levies, bearing flaming torches, rushed to the edge of the moat, and in a few moments a crackling column of flame ascended.
While the fire was in progress, Geoffrey, profiting by the confusion, led his men-at-arms to the opposite side of the castle, where, lying in ambush in the depression formed by a brook, they waited the signal for the combined assault.
As soon as the fire had burned itself out, Sir Brian placed himself at the head of his men, and with a wild shout the Irish rushed at the charred door. Though numbers fell as they crossed the moat the advance was irresistible. With a ponderous crash the timbered door was shattered, and the ill-armed swarm of Irishmen flung themselves upon their better accoutred yet demoralized foes.
Meanwhile the English men-at-arms had crossed the pike-studded moat, and, ere the defenders were aware of the assault, fifty mail-clad warriors had forced the wicket gate at the end of the disused postern-gallery.
With shouts of triumph the assailants threaded their way through the narrow tortuous passages and emerged at the inner bailey. Here they found themselves in the rear of the survivors of the garrison, who were being hard pressed by the Irish kernes.
Caught betwixt two bodies of their attackers the Normans fought with the fury of despair, scorning to ask the quarter that they knew would be denied them.