El Campeador

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El Campeador Page 7

by Griff Hosker

Rodrigo glanced behind a little later and said, “They are within striking distance.” He shouted, “Abu, make an ambush! Juan and Pedro, on my command we turn and charge them!”

  I pulled up my coif and held my helmet. This time I glanced around and saw that they were just three hundred paces behind us and gaining but, in their haste, five of their men were lagging behind the others. I donned my helmet and then drew my sword. I kissed the crosspiece and asked God for his help. As we slowed our horses, making our enemies think we were tiring, so they closed even more as they eagerly hurried to catch us.

  “We turn to the right! Hit them and then turn again to head down the road!”

  We all chorused, “Aye, lord!”

  Rodrigo left nothing to chance. By all turning the same way we avoided collisions and accidents. I could hear the thundering of their hooves as they closed with us.

  “Now!”

  As we turned, I saw that their horses were lathered and that they were riding hard. Although they had weapons in their hands, they were also trying to control their horses which were struggling. We were four abreast and they were two. I swung at the Mameluke who had a mail vest over his padded jacket. My sword was longer than his and it bit through the mail and knocked him from his saddle before his could even get close. Rodrigo did even better: the warrior he hit in the neck lost his head, quite literally and, as it flew through the air, I saw broad and slow, the warrior from Pamplona. He and his shield brothers had tried to kill me and failed. They had sworn vengeance on me. Was that why he was here? He was behind ibn Qasi, but his presence set in motion a whole series of thoughts and worries about who else might be involved in this conspiracy. Juan and Pedro struck the next two men and Rodrigo shouted, “Now!”

  We turned, again, to the right and as we left the enemy stationary, sheathed our swords. I looked under my arm as we rode and saw that our attack had had the effect of slowing and bunching them. They milled around until their leader shouted and waved his sword and they raced after us. We were unhurt and now Rodrigo allowed our horses the chance to open their legs. We had to re-establish a gap between us and the killers.

  Rodrigo looked ahead and I knew what he was doing. He was looking for the place Abu would have chosen for his ambush. To the right of us, steep slopes rose to the high ground and it was impassable but there were shrubs and scrubby trees clinging for life there. To our left was a very short gap to the river. It was flat and devoid of any vegetation. Abu would have chosen somewhere on the steep slope but it would have to be somewhere which had some cover and was flat enough for the horses. I spied it at the same time as Rodrigo who shouted, “Half a mile up the road is Abu. We ride fifty paces past and then turn. I will shout!”

  Unless you knew that Abu, Geoffrey and Jorge would be hiding you could not have seen them but it was the only place where three men and horses could hide and Abu was too good a warrior to miss it. Even as we passed them, I could barely see them and had not Berber whinnied as we hurtled by I might have missed seeing the three of them and their mounts. Rodrigo was counting on the fact that our pursuers who had now lost at least two men would think that the odds were in their favour still and would be desperate to get to us. What they would not expect would be a flank attack. We began to rein in to make a gentler stop for our horses. When Rodrigo shouted, “Now!” we were all ready and we turned as one.

  The mercenaries were less than a hundred paces from us and seeing us stop drew their weapons and urged their exhausted horses on for one more attack. I drew my sword and my dagger. I would guide Berber with my knees and heels. The attack from the flank surprised even me. The three of them used slings. I had expected they would have charged with swords at the rear of the column but Abu was a cleverer warrior than I had given him credit for. At thirty paces a slingshot could be deadly, even if it struck mail or even a helmet. In addition, they were throwing from the side and there a warrior’s defences, including his helmet, were marginally weaker. Three men were hit and one fell from the saddle while the other two reeled. They had no idea whence came the missiles and their momentum carried them past the ambush. The slingshots whirled again and hit the last three men in the column. Then we had no time to admire for we had to fight.

  Rodrigo shouted, “Charge!” and spurred Babieca. The odds were now in our favour for five men were down and at least four were carrying wounds. As he had told me, Rodrigo went for the best warrior, their leader, and I urged Berber towards broad and slow; he was my enemy and I would end this blood feud. For his part, he was keen to get to me and he swung his sword wildly at me as he charged. I had a good horse who was not tired and broad and slow’s horse was so lathered that it could barely stand. Neither of us had shields on our arms but I had a dagger and I flicked aside his wild and swashing blow with my weapon and swung my sword at his side. It bit into him but he was a big man and it did not kill him, not immediately, anyway. As he rode beyond me, I used my knees to turn Berber and, riding behind him I hit his other side where my blade sliced into flesh and drew blood; he tumbled from his saddle. He rolled from the road and lay on his back in the shallows of the river. He was either dead or mortally wounded.

  I heard the sound of Rodrigo’s blade cracking into the Moorish leader as he fought Ibn Qasi. I turned and saw that it was almost over. Juan had killed his man and five men, three obviously wounded, were lumbering on weakened horses back down the road to Zaragoza. Rodrigo fought and we watched; we would not interfere in the bout, Rodrigo needed no help and would not thank us for an intervention. Abu led my other two men to gather the horses while Juan and I watched the champion of Castile fighting a deadly killer. This was a battle between one who fought as a knight and one who did all that he could to kill!

  They were both mailed and the Muslim had a good sword but Tizona was better and as the two blades rang together and sparks flew, I saw that Rodrigo had nicked the edge of the mercenary’s sword with his better blade. Rodrigo had incredibly quick hands and his next strike almost caught the mercenary. While I had been fighting broad and slow Rodrigo must have been wearing down the mercenary. Although ibn Qasi blocked the strike from Tizona, the edge of El Cid’s sword caught the mercenary in the side. Rodrigo whirled his hands and it was a mesmerizing blur of steel. The would-be killer seemed disorientated and he blocked fresh air as Tizona went beneath his guard and tore through mail, the warrior’s padded undershirt and into his flesh. Rodrigo sawed the blade across and it exaggerated the wound. Ibn Qasi must have known he was dying but he still tried to strike at Rodrigo who blocked the blow with his shield and then gave ibn Qasi a merciful death and took his head.

  It was typical of Rodrigo that his first thoughts were for his men. “Are any of you hurt?”

  I had already ascertained that we were not, “We are all whole and Abu and the others are collecting the horses.” Juan and Pedro had dismounted and were stripping and searching the bodies. “Throw their corpses in the river.”

  I dismounted and walked to the riverbank where broad and slow lay. I saw his chest moving telling me, amazingly, that he was still alive. I did not sheath my sword for although I knew he was dying he might try to take me with him. His eyes opened as my feet crunched on the stones which lay along the side of the road. He gave me a rueful smile and a trickle of blood ran down his cheek. “You are ever my bane, Redbeard! I was certain that I could kill you and end my run of bad luck!”

  I nodded, “And now you run with mercenaries and killers. Did you desert Don Gonzalo?”

  He was slow in mind as well as movement and I saw his eyes flicker before he lied to me, “There was more money here.”

  “You are as poor a liar as you are a warrior. You are still working for Don Gonzalo and that concerns me. What is his plan?”

  The broad and slow warrior had courage and more strength than I might have expected. He rolled and threw himself in the river. His mail coif and boots dragged him straight under. I went to the riverbank, but I could not see him. As I looked downstream, I saw his body floating
face down. He was dead and I would learn no more.

  Rodrigo walked Babieca over to me, “What is it, Will?”

  He knew of the attack in Pamplona and I added the other details. He nodded, “So, is Don Gonzalo working alone or is he acting under Prince Alfonso’s orders?” He was talking to himself and not me and so I did not answer. He rubbed his chin and then nodded, “We keep this between us and we watch Don Gonzalo. Prince Sancho and the King would need more evidence to investigate further.”

  I nodded and said, ruefully, “But, if I was a knight, then my word would be good enough?”

  Rodrigo and I had no secrets and no lies between us, “Probably.”

  I nodded, “Then the King and his kingdom may be in danger because I have no spurs. How ironic!”

  He laughed and put his arm around my shoulders, “And you and I will continue to do what we do because that is who we are and we cannot change the warrior within!”

  We had gained six horses. More than that we had gained a great number of coins for the mercenaries had been paid and they carried their booty with them. Rodrigo insisted that it be shared between my men and me. He was happy with the horse, sword and mail of ibn Qasi. I had no doubt that the ones who survived would spread the word of the death of their leader. The battle would enhance the reputation of El Campeador.

  We stayed in Tudela as our weary horses meant we could go no further. As we ate in the inn Rodrigo decided that we would rise late the next day and ride just a short distance to Alfaro. “I know that you will be keen to get back to Briviesca, but we need to get to the King with this news as soon as possible. I know that it is winter, but the King needs to be ready to take an army to war; to sit back would invite our enemies to gather and to attack us. We should go on the offensive!”

  I nodded, “You know that my fate is tied to yours, Don Rodrigo. As much as I wish to go home it is more important that I ride with you.” I laughed, “It is not as if I have a woman to return to.”

  “You should marry, Will!”

  I shook my head, “My mother died because my father was a warrior who plied his trade with his sword. My work as a warrior is not done. Don Raoul has found a wife and he is almost an old man. I will have time enough when my work as a warrior is over.”

  How was I to know that my work as a warrior would go on beyond the life of El Cid?

  It took another ten days for us to reach the King’s palace. It was a hard ride for winter suddenly descended upon the roads making them treacherous. It was fortunate that we had the spare horses and we were able to save Babieca and Berber. Jorge relished the journey for this was what he had craved when he had lived in Sangalhos. He was riding behind the greatest warrior in Spain, he had a full purse and new weapons taken from the dead. I was not training him at the pel or with the quintain, but this experience was invaluable. Geoffrey, too, had come on in leaps and bounds. Abu was good for them both. His decision to use their slingshots at the ambush had been pure genius. In his case, he had little choice but he knew that having Geoffrey and Jorge use them would give them the confidence they needed. I was pleased that the maimed Moor had come into my service.

  That we were not only expected but anticipated showed me that the King and Prince Sancho had great faith in El Campeador. I was not sure if I would be admitted to their presence, but Rodrigo gave them no opportunity to refuse and I walked behind him into the small antechamber where Prince Sancho and his father waited. His steward, Raimundo, was also present and I saw that he had a wax tablet and that he would take notes.

  There was no seat for me and so I stood behind Don Rodrigo. In many ways that helped as I became almost invisible and I was ignored by the King and his son. El Campeador began to speak and I could not help but admire the way he spoke so calmly and with such order that everything he said made perfect sense. Where he speculated, he let the King and the Prince know that. When he had almost finished, he said, “I brought Will Redbeard here for a number of reasons; not least that he is the most loyal subject of Castile. However, the main reason is that he recognised one of the mercenaries who attacked us. He was a Christian.” I saw that sinking in and then he added, “but there is more, Will…”

  Having heard Rodrigo’s endorsement of me made it slightly easier for me to speak and I just told the truth. “One of the men I killed served Don Gonzalo Ordóñez.” I looked at the Prince. “Do you remember, Prince Sancho, in Pamplona when I was attacked?”

  “Vaguely…” To Prince Sancho I was unimportant for I was not a knight and he had probably forgotten the incident as soon as he had left the city.

  “There was one of Don Gonzalo’s men, he was short, broad and did not move very quickly. He was with the mercenaries.”

  The Prince said, quickly, “He could have left Don Gonzalo’ service.”

  “I looked in his eyes and knew that he still worked for Don Gonzalo.”

  King Ferdinand looked confused and Rodrigo added, “Don Gonzalo’s cousin is Prince Alfonso’s armiger.”

  “Ah, then this is delicate. We cannot afford to have dissension at this time. We will assume that my son is right and that the man left the service of Don Gonzalo. From what you say, Rodrigo, we are surrounded by enemies and they are like wolves gathering around a dying animal. You have shown us that you are a warrior who is older than his years. What would your advice be?”

  I stepped back to become a piece of furniture once more as he began, “The Emir cannot appear to pay the tribute for it would incite rebellion fostered by Valencia and Toledo. You have stated publicly that you want the tribute to be paid and you have to do something, or it will encourage your enemies. I have spoken with the Emir and, privately, he is happy to pay the tribute, but you need to rid his borders of enemies first. If we head down the Ebro valley it will look as though we threaten Zaragoza but we carry on and raid Valencia. They have a military presence in Zaragoza and our attack would draw them from the Emir and give him the chance to pay tribute.”

  The King nodded, “A bold plan. What think you, Sancho?”

  “We have yet to be defeated, father, and this will ensure that all the taifas pay us tribute, including Valencia. They have yet to taste our steel.”

  He nodded, “Then I will consider it. Rodrigo, Castile owes you much.”

  “And William Redbeard?”

  The King looked surprised that I was being included but he generously nodded, “And William Redbeard. Come again at Easter, Rodrigo, and we will give you our decision. It goes without saying,” he was looking directly at me and his words offended me, “that this goes no further than this chamber. If I hear that Don Gonzalo has wind of this conversation then I know where to look.”

  As we left the room, I was red and I was angry. Rodrigo put his arm around me, “I am sorry. He is the King but he is wrong.” It softened the blow but did not ease the pain.

  And so I led my men home and did not see Rodrigo for several weeks. I was able to put the forthcoming war from my mind as Maria now insisted that Geoffrey and Isabella be wed and that I attend this time. I had known, from my conversations with my horse master, that Geoffrey and Isabella wished to wed but they were waiting for the right time. Isabella was younger than Anna and Maria did not wish another wedding with a pregnant bride! I went along with it and they were married four weeks after we returned home. Rodrigo and Álvar arrived a week or so later and they brought with them six young men, mounted and with weapons.

  Rodrigo beamed, “We have brought some would-be warriors for you to train.” He dismounted and swept a hand across them, “They are all keen to be warriors and to be trained by Will Redbeard.”

  “Then you are all welcome!” I turned to Rodrigo, “And whence did they come?”

  “These are the sons of men who are not nobles. Some are from Álvar’s estate while others are from mine.”

  I held his gaze, “And why do you do this?”

  Rodrigo could never look guilty but I saw in his eyes an ulterior motive, not a malicious one but a hidden reason
and I would know it.

  “You only have one, Jorge, to train and you will need more men in the coming war. They have horses and weapons already for Álvar and I have provided them.”

  It suddenly came to me, “It is the King’s insult. You wish to make up for it.”

  He could not deceive me, “You are my friend, Will, and this cannot hurt, can it?”

  I smiled, “No it cannot and if you and Álvar have chosen them then they will be good lads. There will be war then?”

  “The King sent for me a week after you left and confirmed that he and Prince Sancho would be going to war with Valencia.”

  “But not Prince Alfonso and Prince Garcia?”

  “They have left their father’s court to go to their estates.” He shrugged, “We do not need them.”

  “But it does not bode well for the future, Don Rodrigo. It shows that the royal family is not united and if there is a weakness then it can be exploited.” Sometimes I had premonitions which I could not explain. I put them down to my Norse blood. I had one then which I dismissed. It was the last time I ignored such a premonition.

  It was good to see Álvar again. He and I always got on for he seemed to like my company and that of my men. Rodrigo did but when on campaign or in the company of kings and princes then he was always whisked away from us. “Are you married yet, Don Álvar?”

  “Not yet and there is time enough for that.”

  Rodrigo laughed, “He has some comely young women on his estate and has sired a daughter already.”

  “Cousin!”

  “It is true and you know that we can trust Will here. He knows all of our secrets, Álvar!”

  “So, let us see these young men! Iago, we have guests!” Iago and the men were in the gyrus.

  I knew that Maria would have seen Rodrigo from the hall and would already be preparing rooms. Since his last unexpected arrival, she kept one chamber in readiness for unexpected guests. Álvar had spoiled her perfect plan.

  Rodrigo and Álvar congratulated Iago on his marriage as the six young men lined up.

 

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