Believe or Die by M.J. Harris Read Free Book Online

painted cuirass worn on the front only (it being said that he had never turned his back on an enemy and thus saw no reason to wear a backplate), thick gauntlets, stout boots and a broad plain hat enlivened only by an egret’s feather. Indeed, apart from his huge red sash, one could easily have thought him a Methodist Parliamentarian, particularly as he wore his hair uncommonly short for a Royalist. He turned and with a malicious gleam in his eyes, addressed his men.
    “Right my lads, let us see how long it takes to make the Roundheads run!” The Colonel drew his sword as a loud cheer acknowledged his words. Gerrard was not fooled. He knew most of his command was there because of an absence of employment, and hungry men are apt to do strange things, even join the Army!
    Illogically, considering the circumstances, Wil’s thoughts were still on the absurdities of fashion when a voice recalled him from his mental meanderings.
    “Master Pitkin. How do I find you upon this fine day?” It was Captain Duvall, that same ‘Gentleman’ who had been assisted by Pitkin in the brawl at Ruislip; the same Gentleman who had then returned the favour and carried Wil away from the tragic scene. Duvall it was then whom Wil had followed into the King’s Army simply because he hadn’t known what else to do. Pitkin was about to reply when a dull boom echoed from the Parliamentarian lines. A cannonade had begun and the whole Tercio twitched as if one entity. All except Duvall that was, who merely brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his splendid blue coat, grinned, and turned to go forward to stand behind Gerrard. The Colonel himself seemed supremely indifferent to the increasing cannon fire and simply growled at the nearest colour bearer to
move your arse away a yard before that twirling flag removes an eye
!
    “Captain!” called Wil. “What is the name of this place?”
    Duvall paused, considered for a moment or two, and then clicked his fingers.
    “Ah, I have it! Edgehill Pitkin, it is called Edgehill!” A cloud passed over between sun and earth casting an odd, almost bat-shaped shadow over the field. Wil shivered and knew fear.
    The opposing artillery exchanged cannonades for an hour or so while dragoons and musketeers fought for possession of the hedgerows on either flank. The King’s men gradually gained the upper hand and began pushing their Parliamentarian opposite numbers back. A body of flamboyant horsemen came forward and took up position on the right of the main Royalist cavalry and thus on the flank of Gerrard’s brigade. The Colonel swung round and glared in the direction of the King’s standard for the horsemen just arrived were the King’s Lifeguard who had no business leaving their sovereign unprotected at such a time. It also meant that there was now no reserve of Horse should the affair turn sour. But now the game was afoot. The Royalist cavalry advanced on both flanks and the Parliamentarian left wing began disintegrating almost immediately. A troop of Roundhead Horse under the command of one Sir Faithful Fortesque drew their pistols, fired them into the ground, and promptly changed sides. Prince Rupert saw his chance and led his Cavaliers into and through the Parliamentarian lines sending Roundheads fleeing to their rear. Desperate officers tried valiantly to stop the panic caused by Rupert’s multicoloured tidal wave of riders but it was too late. Or was it? Rupert’s Cavaliers, proud and arrogant Gentlemen all, had been let off the leash and they were now beyond control. They felt they had won the day with a single charge. Now it was time to gather in the spoils as was customary in their way of waging war. The frantically praying Parliamentary Foot of Ballard’s brigade, convinced they were about to die, were amazed to see Rupert’s men sweep around them and gallop pell-mell down the road towards Kineton and the Parliamentarian baggage train.
    On the other flank, things were looking equally bad for