Besides, they told each other as they walked away from the meeting, had not their priests assured them that God was on their side and they would surely win because they would be fighting to get the relics God had intended for the Church? That they were really fighting so King John would restore their baronial powers was never mentioned.
******
The army was supposed to begin marching for Cornwall immediately after the men awoke and broke their fast on the second morning after the meeting. It was a reasonable thing for the barons to agree to do because they wanted to get their army into Cornwall and seize the relics before they ran out of food.
It did not happen, the army leaving immediately after the men finished eating their breakfasts two days later. Each of the barons expected the others to march while he finished breaking his fast and striking his tents. As a result, no one marched until the sun was directly overhead. It is the kind of thing that happens when an army has no clearly identified commander to tell it what to do.
****** Richard
We could not see the barons’ army as the galloper rode into our camp two afternoons later and shouted the news that the barons were marching towards Cornwall, all we could see in the distance was the castle itself silhouetted against the sky and the white puffy clouds that were gathering to the north. His news quickly flowed through our camp.
“They are on the move; they are on the move.”
Almost immediately Lieutenant Raymond called an “all-sergeants” meeting and we began hurriedly breaking camp.
******
An hour later, George and I were riding together and once again talking about everything from our school days together at Restormel to our similar surprises at being told by Lieutenant Raymond that we were to sergeant one of the company’s two groups of outriders, and our experiences when we did. George had brought his outriders into the camp while I was lost in the woods and had spent much of the next two days after my return watching over me like a mother cat watches over her kittens or a bitch over her pups. My foot still hurt, but at least I could now ride and be the sergeant of what was left of my men.
We were riding a mile or so ahead of the main column of horse archers with a couple of our outriders riding with us in case we needed gallopers with fresh horses. The rest of our outriders were in their usual positions—ranging far out in front of the column or miles off to either side of it. Most of them were off to our right where the barons’ army was marching on the road to Cornwall
“I wonder if we will see any of our old boys from school?” I asked George as I shifted in my saddle to get more comfortable.
“Oh, it is almost certain we will. The last I heard, four of them are apprentice sergeants with our main force in Cornwall. And, of course, the other two, Alfie and Pudge, are in Cyprus fetching and scribing for Harold and Yoram.”
“Uh oh, here comes trouble.” It was the Lieutenant and a couple of men riding out from our main column; and they were riding hard to catch up with us. We reined in our horses and waited for them.
Something was up for sure and we both know what probably triggered it. About thirty minutes ago a couple of our outriders had come in and confirmed that the barons’ army was still travelling without outriders. George, as the higher ranking sergeant because I had only three stripes and he had four, immediately sent one of our fresh riders galloping to the Lieutenant with the news.
“Hoy lads,” Lieutenant Raymond said as he pulled his horse to a stop next to us. “I got your message, George. It sounds encouraging. I want you two to ride out with me to take a look at the barons’ army. I want to know how spread out they are and where they have got their baggage train.” Encouraging? Oh God; we are going to fight for sure.
******
George and I rode with the Lieutenant towards the road to Cornwall on which the barons’ army was travelling. A couple of the Lieutenant’s men rode with us. They were leading a couple of extra horses as remounts in case any of ours were hit or went lame.
The road to Cornwall on which the barons’ army was travelling was actually little more than a cart path once it turned off from the main road between London and Exeter just south of Okehampton. We maintained it where it went through Okehampton’s lands. After it entered the Earl of Devon's lands again, however, it became quite rough and remained that way until it reached the Launceston ford and entered Cornwall. Then it became a real road once again.
According to outriders who had come in and brought the news, the barons’ entire army, including the much-reduced number of women and merchants who were still with it, was on the march. It was reportedly moving slowly even though the barons had left some of their empty wains behind, more than likely because the army had no supplies for them to carry and no horses to pull them.
Lieutenant Raymond rode between us and we talked the entire time until we went up on to a little hill and, from there, could see the barons’ army strung out along the cart path running through the trees. The two men with the extra horses followed behind us. It was actually the most I had ever talked to the Lieutenant. He wanted to know more about our skirmishes and what we had been learnt at Thomas’s school.
George did most of the talking, being as he had four stripes and me but three. But I learnt a lot. It was the first I had actually heard George talk about what happened to him during the fight with the French. And then and there I decided to practice swimming again in the river.
It was certainly the biggest army I had ever seen. George, however, said it looked quite a bit smaller than when he would first seen it pass on the London road, and it was moving even slower. Little wonder in that, if the stories we had heard at camp were even half true, George and his men had whittled its numbers down quite a bit and killed many of its horses.
George and I talked about what we had seen and how we might use our men as we rode back to camp. The Lieutenant did not join us; he seemed deep in thought and rode ahead of us.
“Uncle Raymond,” George called out to him when we were almost back to our camp. “Richard has an idea; two ideas, actually.”
******
Less than an hour later every able-bodied man in our camp was mounted. We ambled out of the camp leading every available spare horse so we had have as many replacements as possible. Our destination was a round and treeless hilltop overlooking the cart path where it goes through a large area of Devon farmland about ten miles before the cart path to Cornwall reaches the Launceston ford. At its current rate of speed, the baron’s army would not reach the ford until late tomorrow morning. We brought all the arrows in our camp with us as well as all the knightly banners our men had taken in the course of our skirmishes.
We reached the hilltop before sundown and made a dry camp. There was a stream a couple of miles away flowing towards the Tamar so it was not a problem getting water for the horses and men. The cart path to Cornwall was about three miles to the south and clearly visible. Our camp was on the far side of hill so it could not be seen from the cart path.
Late the next morning we began to see signs that the barons’ army was approaching. An advance party of perhaps twenty knights and mounted men came into view first. It was the barons’ idea of an early warning force. We saw no outriders.
“Well, that was something new,” George observed as we shaded our eyes with our hands and watched while standing next to our horses. “When I first saw them on the London road, they did not even have an advance party.”
The barons’ advance party was still in sight when the riders at the front of the main column came into view. It was our intention to stand here and watch them until they stopped for the night—because where the barons made their camp for the night would determine where we would position our false army when we rode out to confront them in the morning.
“My numbering and summing has about forty of them for every one of us,” said George rather gleefully after the Lieutenant assembled all the sergeants and told us how we were going to fight in the morning. “We have got them
by the bollocks for sure.”
George meant his encouraging words. I, however, was not nearly so confident in the plan I had suggested, and, from the looks on their faces as they watched the marching army passing in the distance, neither were the archers and many of their sergeants. We knew how we had fight; but how would they fight?
******
Early the next morning we lined up all our men on their horses along the top of a hill so we had be visible to the barons’ army in the distance when the sun came up. Knightly banners were fluttering all along our line of horsemen even though they were not ours and we had no knights among us. It may have worked—a party of riders was coming towards us from the barons’ camp. Well, now at least we will know if what we were learnt about knights and nobles in our school applies to the real world.
“Well lads, here they come,” Lieutenant Raymond said. “It is time for us to ride down there and see if Richard is right.”
Lieutenant Raymond and George and I kicked our horses in the ribs and rode down the hill towards the four men who were riding towards us. We galloped in an effort to meet them far enough forward of our line of horsemen. It would not do to have our visitors get close enough to see that the knightly and baronial banners our many were displaying were not held by knights and barons and their standard-bearers. We were carrying shields and swords taken from the weapons we had captured; our longbows were nowhere to be seen.
Our meeting was initially quite cordial, although the splendidly attired leader of our visitors and his men could barely contain their surprise at seeing our plain tunic gowns with the stripes of our ranks on their fronts and backs.
“Good day to you; I am Robert of Frodesham, herald of the Earl of Chester who commands the army you see before you.”
“And good day to you, Sir Robert. I am Raymond of Okehampton, lieutenant to William, Earl of Cornwall, on whose lands you have placed your army without my lord’s permission. Why have you ridden out to meet us?”
“Why to challenge your lord and his army to combat, of course, so that God may judge who is in the right.”
Those were the words we had hoped to hear. What Bishop Thomas and Angelo Priestly told us at school about the customs and pride of the nobles and their knights was true; this might work.
Good old Lieutenant Raymond answered as George and I had coached him to answer—with an agreement that would prick their pride.
“The Earl of Cornwall sets much store in the Will of God, Sir Robert. So we agree—on the condition that the battle begins within the next three hours in the open area a couple of miles behind this hill where we will be waiting for you.
“We will wait for you there for three hours. But I must tell you, Sir Robert, that the Earl of Cornwall and his men think your Earls of Chester and Devon and their knights are cowards. And being cowards they will send their villagers and servants forward to fight for them while they cower and piss themselves in the rear because they are too afraid to face even the common men of Cornwall.
“Accordingly, if the fears of your commander and his friends are still holding you back from engaging us by the time the sun is directly overhead, we will turn and ride away in contempt—and send messengers to the king telling him how Lord Chester and his fellow barons and their knights were cowards who avoided combat because they were afraid to fight even a handful of Cornwall’s mounted villagers.”
Then, as Richard and I had suggested, and he had three times practiced, Lieutenant Raymond leaned forward, poked his finger at Chester's herald, and really rubbed in his insults.
“In other words, my dear Sir Robert, we are here and we are waiting for you— and if you do not come to fight us, the king and everyone else in England will know your Lord Chester and his fellow barons and knights are cowards and unworthy of your lands and titles.”
Sir Robert’s eyes and those of his companions absolutely sparkled with anger at all Lieutenant Raymond's insults—and he agreed to the terms through clenched teeth. It was the only thing he could do. Any effort to suggest changes to the terms would be seen as trying to avoid fighting us.
“Well, let us hope this works,” Lieutenant Raymond said as we cantered back to our men and Sir Robert and his companions rode away with as much arrogance and disdain as they could muster.
Chapter Nineteen
The challenge is accepted.
We cantered back up the hill to our waiting men. A few minutes later we began leading the men to where the Lieutenant wanted them positioned for the beginning of the battle—and he began explaining to each of the sergeants what he and his men were to do when the barons attack and the fighting starts. We had plenty of time, so on the way we stopped at the stream for water and something to eat. Four of our outriders remained behind to bring us word of the barons’ army.
“Three hours? Well they certainly would not have much time to get ready and march so far, will they?” George commented with a smile as we watched our horses drink—and fed them corn from our caps after we had carefully removed our bowstrings so our horse would not eat them.
“Yes,” I said with an answering smile. “They will have to hurry to get to the battle and wear themselves out, would not they?”
******
The initial hillside position Lieutenant Raymond picked for his men, all of them riders on good horses, would form the first battle line for the barons to attack. It looked to be about five miles from the barons’ encampment. Reaching it would require the barons’ army to either march over recently ploughed land or go around it and add several miles to their march. Either way, they had have to hurry to reach us by the appointed hour.
George and I did not take our men to join the Lieutenant's initial battle line. After we watered our horses, Lieutenant Raymond sent us with all of our available men back to join the four outriders already watching the barons’ encampment. We had a new assignment for ourselves and our outriders. George was in command of Raymond’s outriders because of his four stripes; I was his lieutenant with three. It was exactly as I suggested.
We did not even get back to the outriders watching the barons’ camp when we met one of the outriders we had left to watch it. He was riding hard and barely slowed down to shout his message as he went galloping past us.
“They are coming. They are coming.”
His report caused George and I to step up our speed. We and our outriders went from our horses ambling towards our observers waiting on the hill ahead of us to cantering towards them. A second outrider came tearing past us just before we reached the two outriders remaining on the hill.
“All them buggers is heading this way” was all we could hear him shout as he galloped past us without slowing down. It was very exciting.
We saw everything as soon as we came far enough around the side of the hill where our two remaining outriders were waiting—the barons had accepted Raymond’s challenge; they were leading their entire army towards where they expected to find Cornwall’s army.
What we saw of the barons’ army appeared to be quite chaotic. Horsemen and men on foot were hurrying towards the proposed battleground, and some of the men on foot were having trouble keeping up with the banners carried by the horsemen they were following. They did not stop to water their horses at the little stream we had been using, although most of the walking men would undoubtedly scoop up a few handfuls as they went past it.
****** Raymond
I sent George and all my outriders back to watch the barons’ army. Richard went with him as his deputy. I sent the two lads because they understand the plan right well and are less likely to move too quickly and cause the barons to return to their encampment before they are finished. Of course they understand it; it was Richard’s idea, was not it?
My men and their horses and weapons are as ready as I can get them. It is a pity I do not have more men here to fight the barons. All I have are about one hundred men who can ride and that includes the lightly wounded men who can sit a horse.
I also have about twenty
remounts that are being led in case some of our horses go down. They are all I have and there is nothing I can do about it except fight with what I have got. It is a pity that we did not bring our caltrops and stakes and such to sprinkle around in front of us, but we did not and there is no use crying over spilt ale.
****** Raymond
Two hours later, the farmland opening out in front of us was covered with the barons’ men and horses, and they were all coming this way, just as we had hoped. There certainly were a lot of them. It looked more like a disorganized nest of ants some farmer had dug up rather than an army, except all the ants were coming towards us and carrying weapons. They ought to be exhausted, the men on foot at least, for how fast and far they have had to come on a hot summer day.
Well, we are ready for them, are not we? My men have walked off the distance and put out little piles of rocks to mark the kill zone if we use our longs while we are mounted. They have also done the same on two of the hillsides behind us where we will make additional stands after they push us off this hill—and in doing so move themselves further and further away from their encampment when we flee and they pursue us. At least that was the plan.
******
It would not be much longer. The knights and other horsemen are obviously getting ready to charge up the hill to reach our line and come to grips with us. They have seen how few we are and appear to have taken our insults to heart—they are forming up to charge us on horseback instead of sending their men on foot in first. The fools still think they are going to fight a pitched battle the way they fight the French.
My archers and I watched as the various barons and knights rode up and down in front of their little groups of followers. No doubt they were exhorting them with promises and threats and such.
The Captain's Men Page 14