“Okay, if we use our heads and if we are lucky, we should be able to enter the castle and confront the baron,” Harold told his band of followers as they canned the castle defences.
“Um – exactly how are the nine of us going to pull this off?” Owen asked.
“Like I said, with a little cunning we can distract the guards and get through the gate while they are dealing with our feint.”
“So what do we do?” Lars asked.
“Well Lars, you and William will roll the haycart to the front gate and then just out of reach of the guards set it alight and run. While the guards are dealing with the fire, the rest of us will rush in,” Harold explained.
“And what if they don’t rush to put out the fire?” an unfamiliar voice queried. “I hear those guards are really good at sticking to thier posts.”
“Those pampered buffoons,” Harold retorted. “They will run about like headless chickens.”
“Do you know Harold Greengrass, I think this is your lucky day after all,” The Captain of the Guard said as twenty guards closed in from behind the band. “I’d wager you will be inside and facing the baron sooner than you thought.”