the carles right and left with spear and sword.
Straightway the archers ran all they might, yet not so fast but that
the Red Lad and his captains got amidst them ere they could take to
the narrow byways, so that a many were slain. And this was a matter of
but ten minutes. But when the horsemen had been along with the bowmen
a little while, they heard great horns blowing from the south, and
therewith great noise of horse, and presently a great rout of
men-at-arms in the best of armour began to come in by the southern
road, and the Red Lad's men were all agog to fall on them straightway,
but he made them forbear till they had filled the square over-full.
They were not long about it, but meanwhile the townsmen shot all they
might; and so nigh they were that, despite their armour, not a few
fell, both of men and horses; yet did they fall not on till the square
was full of them, so that it looked far bigger than might have been
deemed. Then they thrust on, but so close that they might scarce
handle their arms, and the Red Lad and his cried their cry, The Red
Lad for Longshaw! and rushed forward, smiting and thrusting, till the
front of the foemen began to try to turn about if they might; but
scarce they could, though if they might not flee they might not fall.
And they behind strove to get forward to smite, for they said they
were many more than the others; but they could get but little done,
for their forward men who had been overthrown were hindering them. Now
also the carles of the town laid aside their bows and entered among
them with short swords and axes, and hewed and slew and took none to
mercy, and it seemed hard to know how that would end, save by all
those men-at-arms falling in the place.

Now, as ye may deem, Osberne was more thrust forward than any other,
and somewhat of a space he had cleared before him, and his yellow hair
came down from under his basnet, and his long red surcoat streamed all
rent and tattered in the wind, and Boardcleaver was bare and bloody in
his fist, and his face was stern but not exceeding fierce; for he
would the slaughter of the day were over. Now he hove up Boardcleaver,
and before him was a tall man in gilded armour and a gay yellow
surcoat of silk, and his armour was little rent and his sword
unscathed in his hand; a stark man he was of aspect, but terror was
come into his soul because of the slaughter of the press and that
there was no escape therefrom. So when he saw Boardcleaver