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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The White Company"

One moment Alleyne saw the
galley's poop crowded with rushing figures, waving arms, exultant
faces; the next it was a blood-smeared shambles, with bodies
piled three deep upon each other, the living cowering behind the
dead to shelter themselves from that sudden storm-blast of
death. On either side the seamen whom Sir Nigel had chosen for
the purpose had cast their anchors over the side of the galleys,
so that the three vessels, locked in an iron grip, lurched
heavily forward upon the swell.
And now set in a fell and fierce fight, one of a thousand of
which no chronicler has spoken and no poet sung. Through all the
centuries and over all those southern waters nameless men have
fought in nameless places, their sole monuments a protected coast
and an unravaged country-side.
Fore and aft the archers had cleared the galleys' decks, but from
either side the rovers had poured down into the waist, where the
seamen and bowmen were pushed back and so mingled with their foes
that it was impossible for their comrades above to draw string to
help them.


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