Braveheart Page #27

WALLACE:

Remember when the English turned

their hounds on us? Maybe we should

introduce them to our dogs.

INT. THE DARKENED ROOM OF BRUCE THE ELDER, THE LEPER

In the faint nimbus of the single candle, young Robert sits

across from his leper father. The son grips his own head, as

if stunned by a blow.

ROBERT:

This... cannot be the way.

THE LEPER:

You have said yourself that the nobles

will not support Wallace, so how

does it help us to join the side

that is slaughtered?

Heartsick, the father reaches across the table, then stays

his arm, unwilling to touch his son with his leprous hand.

THE LEPER:

My son. Look at me. I cannot be king.

You, and you alone, can rule Scotland.

What I tell you, you must do -- for

yourself, and for your country.

Young Robert holds his father with his eyes, and does not

look away.

EXT. THE BATTLE OF FALKIRK - DAY

The Scottish army moves out onto the hilly plain, covered in

the gray mists. They see glimpses of the enemy in the

distance. Wallace deploys the Scots: Campbell with the

schiltrons (spear formations), Stephen with the infantry,

the noble Mornay leading the cavalry, and with Wallace and

Hamish on horseback, looking over the field. Hamish sees

gazing up at an empty hill above the field.

HAMISH:

The Bruce is not coming, William.

WALLACE:

Mornay has come. So will the Bruce.

He'd better, the odds look long. And it's nasty ground; one

side of the field is ankle deep in water, and the English

are covering it with a layer of burning oil, releasing thick

smoke to hide their movements.

WALLACE:

Stephen ready?

HAMISH:

Aye.

The Priest from their home village is moving through the

Scottish ranks, dispensing absolution. He reaches the two

friends, who accept the Host, say their own last prayers,

and give each other a look of goodbye. Hamish rides off to

join the schiltrons.

LONGSHANKS AND HIS GENERALS

on the opposite side of the field, send their army forward.

WALLACE AND THE SCOTS

see them through the smoke; Wallace spots what he's looking

for:
there they are, the ranks of crossbowmen!

And as they draw nearer, Wallace hears a haunting noise. He

sees the bowmen more clearly, and the English infantry. Some

are wearing kilts and marching to bagpipes.

WALLACE:

Irish troops!

STEPHEN OF IRELAND, WITH THE SCOTTISH INFANTRY

He stares at the approach of his countrymen. Wallace appears

beside him. Stephen sees him, and is ashamed.

STEPHEN:

So that's where Longshanks got his

soldiers. Irishmen, willing to kill

Scottish cousins for the English.

WILLIAM:

Their families are starving, they'll

feed them however they can. If you

don't want to fight them --

STEPHEN:

No. I'll stand with you.

Loyal to the end. Wallace signals to Hamish and Campbell,

among the schiltrons. The formations, bristling with spears,

move forward. Hamish looks back at Wallace; both men know

the spearmen are the bait here. Wallace and Stephen see the

English heavy cavalry advancing.

STEPHEN:

They can't be that stupid to attack

the schiltrons again.

Wallace is scanning the battlefield. He sees the English

cavalry charge, but before they reach the bristling spears,

they pull up, and crossbowmen, moving up behind the knights.

WALLACE:

It's only a faint to shield the

crossbows!

The crossbowmen fire a volley, too hurriedly. We see the

hailstorm of bolts slash through the air in unison -- you

can actually see them coming. The bows fall short of the

front ranks of the schiltrons.

WALLACE:

Now! Give 'em the dogs!

Stephen signals, and up the slope behind them come handlers

with ten war dogs.

Huge mastiffs, they wear steel collars, with razor sharp

protrusions. Their handlers hold them at the end of long

catch poles. The crossbowmen are distracted from their

reloading by the appearance of the mastiffs; now, as the

Scottish handlers run toward the English ranks and unleash

the dogs, fear races through the English line.

The dogs tear into them. It is chaos; the bowmen can't flee,

and as the dogs mix among them, the bowmen fire frantically,

mostly hitting each other. The dogs' collars slash legs;

their jaws crush bones; even when their back legs are hacked

off, the frenzied dogs keep killing.

Wallace signals to Mornay with the Scottish cavalry. Mornay

does nothing. The crossbowmen, though taking great punishment,

are beginning to overwhelm the dogs by sheer numbers, and

are regrouping.

WALLACE:

Now! Charge! Charge them!

Mornay tugs his reins and leads his cavalry away.

AT THE ENGLISH COMMAND

Longshanks and his officers see Mornay and his cavalry melt

away. The English general looks knowingly at Longshanks.

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