Braveheart Page #15

We open on Marion's grave, with the thistle-carved marker,

looking peaceful; but up the hill in the underbrush, English

soldiers wait in ambush. Edgy, they perk up at the sound of

muffled hoofbeats -- then their eyes bug as a cloaked figure --

Wallace -- suddenly looms up behind them, galloping and

swirling fire! He hurls burning torches into the clustered

soldiers, setting some of them on fire!

MEANWHILE, HAMISH has crawled to Marion's grave and is digging

frantically. The new dirt parts easily and he pulls the

shrouded body out, cringing with the effort.

MORE SOLDIERS rush from behind the rocks at the far side of

the graveyard. Wallace charges them, driving them back. He

grabs the reins of Hamish's horse, hidden among trees, and

gallops to him.

Hamish hands the shrouded body up to William and bounds into

the saddle of his own horse. They spur the horses and ride

away, William clutching Marion's shrouded body to his chest.

EXT. SECRET GROVE ON THE PRECIPICE - NIGHT

William dismounts, stretching the body gently on the ground.

Hamish dismounts too, with the spade he used to dig up the

old grave. He sees the emotion on William's face.

HAMISH:

I'll wait... back there.

WALLACE:

Hamish, I... thank...

Hamish puts a hand on his friend's shoulder, then quietly

leads the horses away. William starts to dig...

LATER IN THE GROVE

William sits looking at the new grave, covered with leaves --

completely hidden. He touches his hand to the earth.

EXT. WOODS - BY THE STREAM - NIGHT

Hamish is waiting as William comes out of the grove. There

is nothing to say. They mount their horses and ride away, as

the MUSIC of William and Marion's love haunts us...

EXT. WOODS - ENCAMPMENT - NIGHT

Wallace and his inner circle hare huddled around a small

fire. Other highlanders guard the perimeters. Old Campbell

is lovingly honing the broadswords to razor edges and sharing

a whiskey jug with Hamish, who stares at the fire. Wallace

is using a stick to draw diagrams in the dirt.

CAMPBELL:

What're ya doin'?

WALLACE:

Thinking.

CAMPBELL:

Does it hurt?

WALLACE:

What do we do when Longshanks sends

his whole northern army against us?

They have heavy cavalry. Armored

horses, that shake the very ground.

They'll ride right over us.

At a loss, Wallace looks up at the sky. HE SEES: the trees

stretching into the night like spikes to skewer the stars.

WALLACE:

We make spears. A hundred spears.

Fourteen feet long.

HAMISH:

Fourteen? --

SENTRY (O.S.)

Volunteers coming in!

They look to see a half dozen new volunteers being led in,

blindfolded. When the guides remove the blindfolds, the new

recruits see Wallace and rush to him, bowing.

RECRUIT (FAUDRON)

William Wallace? We have come to

fight and die for you!

WALLACE:

Stand up, man, I'm not the Pope.

FAUDRON:

I am Faudron! My sword is yours! And

I brought you this tarta --

As he reaches into his cloak, both Hamish and Campbell

instantly draw their swords and put the points to his neck.

SENTRY:

We checked them for arms.

Carefully, Faudron pulls out a beautiful tartan scarf, and

replaces Wallace's tattered old one.

FAUDRON:

It's your family tartan! My wife

wove it with her own hands.

WALLACE:

Thank her for me.

A loud voice interrupts...

VOICE:

Him? That can't be William Wallace!

I'm prettier than this man!

They all look at a slender, handsome young man, STEPHEN, who

is talking to himself -- or more accurately, seems to listen

to some unheard voice, then answer it...

STEPHEN:

All right, Father, I'll ask him!

(to William)

If I risk my neck for you, will I

get a chance to kill Englishmen?

HAMISH:

Is your Poppa a ghost -- or do you

converse with God Almighty?

STEPHEN:

In order to find his equal, and

Irishman is forced to talk to God.

(quickly)

Yes, Father!...

(to Wallace)

The Almighty says don't change the

subject, just answer the fookin'

question.

CAMPBELL:

Insane Irish --

Stephen whips a dagger from his sleeve and puts it at

Campbell's throat.

STEPHEN:

Smart enough to get a dagger past

your guards, old man.

Wallace jerks his sword to the Irishman's throat, and grins.

WALLACE:

That's my friend, Irishman. And the

answer's yes. You fight for me, you

kill the English.

Stephen grins, and happily tucks away the dagger.

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