Braveheart Page #24

PHILLIP:

We would stop him!

LONGSHANKS:

Edward, who is this shitpoker who

speaks to me as if I needed his

advice?

EDWARD:

I have declared Phillip my High

Counselor.

Longshanks nods as if impressed. He moves to Phillip and

examines the gold chain of office that the young man wears.

Then Longshanks grabs him and throws him out the window, the

same one Edward and Phillip were looking out, six stories

above the courtyard. We hear Phillip's SCREAM as he falls.

Edward rushes toward the window in horror. He looks out at

the result, turns back toward his father in shock and hatred,

and only then remembers the dagger and goes for it.

He stabs at Longshanks; the old king smiles at the attack,

parrying, letting his arms be cut.

LONGSHANKS:

You fight back at last!

Then Longshanks unleashes his own hateful fury; he grapples

with Edward, knocking the dagger away and hurling him to the

floor; then Longshanks kicks his son, again and again. He

exhausts his fury on him.

Edward is a bloody mess; Longshanks coughs up a bit of blood.

He ignores it and his son's wreckage, and goes back to the

discussion, as if this fight was normal business.

LONGSHANKS:

We must sue for a truce, and buy him

off. But who will go to him? Not I.

If I came under the sword of this

murderer, I would end up like my

nephew. And not you, the sight of my

f*ggot son would only encourage an

enemy to take over this country. So

whom do I send?

Longshanks calculates.

EXT. WALLACE ARMY CAMP - DAY

A full encampment, across an English field; campfires chase

the dawn chill. Soldiers sharpen swords and spear points.

Wallace is huddled with his inner circle, all except Campbell,

who receives a report from a scout.

CAMPBELL:

A royal entourage comes, flying

banners of truce, and the standards

of Longshanks himself!

Wallace buckles on his sword.

AN ENGLISH PAVILION TENT - YORKSHIRE - DAY

Set up for a meeting in a sunny meadow. Wallace and his men

ride in, wary, ready for ambush. They surround the tent.

There are two dozen royal soldiers there, but they make no

threatening moves.

No sound from the tent. Wallace rests his hand on the handle

of his broadsword, ready.

WALLACE:

Longshanks! I have come.

Servants pull back the sides of the tent door, and a tall,

slender, shapely female figure appears there. There in the

shadows, she looks just like Marion! William is not the only

one who notices the resemblance; he glances at Hamish and

Campbell and sees them haunted by it too. Is this another

dream? He pales, as she steps into the morning sun. She moves

toward him, her face lowered. It is Marion!

She reaches him, lifts her face... and he sees the Princess!

William is relieved -- and yet as he sees the Princess more

closely he is still shaken by the resemblance in the way she

carries herself, her shape, the fall of her hair.

The Princess is struck with Wallace, too -- tall, powerful,

and commanding. Wallace dismounts, and moves to face her.

Their eyes hang on each other. She sees something that she

has not seen in the face of a man in her whole life.

She surprises him by bending at the knee, in a half-submissive

yet proud curtsey.

PRINCESS:

I am the Princess of Wales.

WALLACE:

Wife of Edward, the king's son?

She nods; somehow she is already ashamed.

PRINCESS:

I come as the king's servant, and

with his authority.

WALLACE:

It's battle I want, not talk.

PRINCESS:

But now that I am here, will you

speak with a woman?

She leads him under the pavilion, a purple canopy shading

rich carpets laid on the bare ground. Watching the gorgeous

walk, Stephen lies back on his saddle and twitches his leg

like a horny dog. Hamish backhands him; Campbell, Hamish and

Stephen quickly dismount and follow the procession,

shouldering their way in beside the Princess's French guards,

so they can watch Wallace's back. The rest of the Scots

surround the tent, ready for ambush.

Nicolette is among the royal attendants there; seeing Wallace,

she shoots a glance at the Princess that says Ooo-La-La! The

servants have brought a throne for the Princess, a lower

chair for Wallace. She sits; he refuses the chair.

She studies him, taking in his anger and his pride.

PRINCESS:

I understand that you have recently

been given the rank of knight.

WALLACE:

I have been given nothing. God makes

men what they are.

PRINCESS:

Did God make you the sacker of

peaceful cities? The executioner of

the king's nephew, my husband's own

cousin?

WALLACE:

York was the staging point for every

invasion of my country. And that

royal cousin hanged a hundred Scots,

even women and children, from the

city walls.

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