Since leaving Falkirk that morning, Alex had been marching with the center or main body of the army, which was under the command of King Edward. But he’d ridden ahead to give information to the vanguard—under the disastrous joint command of the young Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, the king’s favored nephew, and Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford, the Constable of England and rightful commander—just in time to see one of the greatest (or most rash, depending on your perspective) displays of chivalric warfare by a king that he could ever recall.

Sir Henry de Bohun, the young nephew of Hereford, had caught sight of some of Bruce’s men coming out of the New Park on the main road, where Bruce had positioned his men to block the English approach to Stirling. Realizing that one of the men was Bruce himself, de Bohun—no doubt thinking of the glory that would be his if he brought down the king in single combat—raced his destrier forward, lance in hand, intent on ending the war with one dramatic strike.

Rather than retreat into the forest of the New Park to avoid the charging knight, or leave his men to dispense with the attack as he should have, Bruce not only accepted the challenge, he skillfully maneuvered his palfrey at the last minute to avoid the lance, and then stood up in his stirrups to deliver a powerful blow with his axe into the helm of de Bohun that had not just cleaved through metal into the skull of the young knight, killing him, but had also broken the handle of the king’s battle-axe.

This was a king to fight for. It was just the kind of extraordinary feat of warfare that had made Bruce an almost mythical figure to his men. The Bruce had more chivalry in his little finger than Edward would have in a lifetime. No doubt MacLeod and some of the other captains were reprimanding him for taking foolish, unnecessary risks—the entire Scottish cause might have died on the end of one lance wielded by a rash young knight—but the story would inevitably add to Bruce’s popularity and his growing legend.

Some might also say that this one decisive single combat was a harbinger of things to come.

The spurious charge by de Bohun provoked an attack by the English cavalry on the Scot position before the New Park that was haphazard, ill-conceived, poorly executed, and ultimately repulsed by the Scot schiltron formations of pikemen. Alex had taken one look at his former compatriots across the battlefield and knew Joan and Boyd were right. There wasn’t a middle ground. He had to choose, and he’d chosen the wrong side.