Queen by Alex Haley Read Free Book Online Page B

history came to them---Arthur, and his
        heroic knights, whose quest was holy-and even if the legends of that
        history were not true,
     
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    32 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
     
    they were believed. They were ruled by formidable monarchs, 'whose
    achievements propelled and nourished them, and they had conquered, on land
    and at sea, half the known world. It was this unshakable faith in their own
    invincibility that had given them an empire the like of which the world had
    never seen, and earned their country the title "Great." A bunch of rowdy
    Irish peasants were nothing to them.
        The flawless order and discipline of the red-coated army arrayed before
        them struck fear in the Irish hearts, and hunger brought dissension to the
        ranks. They were not afraid to die for their cause, but they would rather
        die in battle than suffer the slow death of starvation. Their generals,
        however, the priests, seemed reluctant to fight.
        Yet fight they must, and perhaps succeed, for if they did not fight they
        could not win.
        It was a warm night, and a fine, soft rain was falling. Sean came to Jamie,
        who was lying against a tree, trying to sleep. His clothes were wet, his
        blanket was soaked, and he had not eaten anything other than some oatmeal
        for days. But Sean had a smile on his face.
        "It is tomorrow," he whispered. The words hardly gladdened Jamie's
        miserable heart, and he tried to come to terms with the fact that tomorrow
        he might die.
        "If I should die," Sean said softly, "and you should live, do your old
        friend one last favor."
    "Anything," Jamie answered.
    "Bury me decent, in some quiet place," Sean said.
        Jamie did not react for a moment, for Sean's simple acceptance of his
        possible fate disturbed him. Nor was he puzzled that he did not ask the
        same of Sean, for he was determined not to die.
    "Swear it to me," Sean insisted.
        Jamie swore his vow, which seemed to satisfy Sean. They lapsed into silence
        for a while, each man considering the morrow.
        "Are you scared?" Jamie asked him, when he found the courage to voice his
        own fear.
        "Oh, I expect so," Sean laughed. "But anything's better than living as we
        have."
    He stared at the drizzling rain and was glad of it, for the
        BLOODLINES 33
     
    resulting mud would hamper the formally uniformed British, and give the
    peasants some small advantage. They were used to mud; it was the stuff of
    their lives. They built their houses from it, and burned it to warm them,
    and its clover fed their cows. He looked at Jamie, and saw, not for the
    first time, fear in his friend's eyes. He laughed, put his arm round his
    friend, and took a small flask of poteen from his pocket.
        "And it's better than being bored to death," he said. He held up the
        flask.
        "Erin go bragh," he whispered, excitement in his eyes, for he had been
        chafing for action. He passed the flask to Jamie.
        "Ireland forever," Jamie agreed, and drank deep of the harsh liquor, and
        felt better as the warm fire raced through his body, and calmed his
        raging fear.
     
    They attacked at dawn, hoping for the benefit of surprise, but the Ancient
    Britains were ready. They had been trained on the battlefields of India
    and America, and always stood to just before dawn, for that, experience
    had taught them, was when savages attacked.
        The mud was not the peasants' ally because they had to run through it,
        down the hill, and slipped and slid toward the waiting muskets of the
        British, who stood in formal ranks, picking them off as they presented
        themselves. Jamie believed it must be a rout. They could not possibly
        win. The sound of gunshots and the screaming of wounded and dying men
        deafened him; the riotous