El Campeador

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El Campeador Page 8

by Griff Hosker


  The six young men looked nervous as Iago and my men approached them. My men looked like brutes; they were not but their rugged appearance and huge size intimidated those that they met. When you worked every day at the pel or at the quintain then you developed huge muscles and a broad chest. The six young men looked like spear shafts in comparison. On the battlefield this suited us but when we rode into a new town or inn then men shifted uncomfortably expecting trouble. They were all, like me, scarred and our visages showed the battles and the fights we had fought.

  Álvar began and as he spoke about the first two young men, he put his arm on their shoulders. I could tell that these young men had a bond with Álvar for he spoke well of each of them. “This is Stephano, and his father is the weaponsmith on my estate. As you can see, he has muscles which will grow into young oaks!”

  I nodded, “Welcome, and you do not wish to follow your father in his noble trade?”

  “No, lord, for I have neither the skill nor the eye for such a trade but I know how to wield a sword.”

  “Then welcome.”

  “This is Juan, the son of Garcia, my steward. He does not have the patience to be a servant.”

  I frowned, “But does he have the patience to train for hours at the pel?” I turned to Jorge, “Jorge, tell Juan here of your day.”

  He nodded, “I rise before dawn and tend to the horses with Geoffrey. When that is done, I have my breakfast before Master Iago takes me to the pel where I work for two hours striking the wooden pel until my shoulders burn. Then I have my riding lessons from the horse master, Geoffrey. After we eat, I repeat the same until it grows dark and I tend to the horses again and then I sleep.”

  I nodded, “If any of you think this is not for you then now is the time to say for this will be your life until you are a warrior.”

  They all nodded.

  Álvar and Rodrigo went to the next boy together and it was Rodrigo who spoke. “This is Sebastian and he is an orphan we found begging in León. We hired him to have him as a servant but once he began to eat regularly, we saw that he was bigger than we first thought and he has some skill. He would rather be a warrior than a servant.”

  I nodded my welcome as Rodrigo moved on to the next one, “This is Christos. You knew his uncle, Pablo. His father stayed at Vivar after we left for he was working the fields else he would have come. His parents both died two winters ago and my father would have thrown him from the estate as a useless mouth but my mother forbade it. She brought him to me and I saw the potential.”

  He went to the last two and it was obvious that they were twins, “These are brothers, Raoul and Raimundo. Their father worked on my estate but a tree he was felling took his life and his mother…” he shook his head and his eyes begged me not to ask more, “They are good lads and they begged for the chance to become warriors.”

  Of the two, Raoul was the more confident and he boldly spoke up, “Lord, our father died of an accident and we would rather be warriors where, if death comes, there is a purpose to it. God took our mother and we know not why.” I saw, in his eyes, the doubt about his faith. We now had a priest on the estate and I would ask Father Paulo to speak to them. A warrior had to believe in God for he was always just the thickness of a blade away from meeting him.

  “You are all welcome and your training begins now. Geoffrey, Iago, show them how we stable our horses and where to store their war gear. Today I leave them to you and tomorrow their training begins in earnest.”

  “Aye, lord, come on, young fellows, let us teach you the right way to do all things for we serve William Redbeard and he has high standards!”

  Iago had always been a good man but since he had married, he had mellowed. Anna was with child and Iago saw himself as a father. The warrior had changed and while he could still fight his priorities would change. He was a father! All would be well.

  As we walked to the hall Rodrigo said, “If it is not inconvenient, we would both like to stay here for a week to see how the young men fare.”

  I nodded, “Of course.”

  Álvar added, “And we would train with you too.”

  I stopped in surprise, “What can you learn from me? You are both knights beyond compare.”

  Rodrigo said, “We can learn to fight like Iago, Juan and Pedro, not to mention you. I watched you on the road to Tudela and you slew your man with two blows. You are not a knight, Will, but you know how to kill. When you trained us as young men you gave us strength and you gave us the skills to become knights. Now you need to give us the skills which come from your blood.” He smiled, “When you stood on Salamanca’s walls and took on what seemed like the whole garrison, we all thought you dead but you survived. That is what we must do so that when we are outnumbered, we will still win!”

  Maria was both annoyed and honoured that we had such distinguished guests. She was annoyed for she was aware that the rest of us did not have high standards and she did not wish to embarrass herself and, I think, me by some mistake with cutlery. She was delighted because she had watched Rodrigo from when he had been a child. She had helped Lady Isabelle to wash him and change him. He was like her second son and that he had risen so far thrilled her.

  By the end of the week, I was exhausted. With seven young men to train as well as Rodrigo and Álvar, there were not enough hours in the day. I had thought I had taught the two of them all that there was to know and so I used a new approach. We did not wear mail and we did not use our normal swords. I made them fight me and Iago with the wooden practice swords. Heavier and more unwieldy than a real sword they made you think how to use them and that honed the mind. Álvar’s hands were not as quick as the others and so he had to use his feet more. Constant training on the backs of horses meant that both men learned to use their knees and heels to make their horses respond as quickly as possible. Inevitably it led to injuries, that was in the nature of training for war. That they were not edged weapons merely meant that there were fewer serious cuts but skin was still broken and limbs were bruised.

  As they parted from us Rodrigo was grinning, “When I return to Prince Sancho, he will think that we were brawling in Briviesca.”

  I laughed, “Which of course you were for Prince Sancho thinks me a peasant anyway!”

  Rodrigo’s face became serious, “Do not let those thoughts become a burden which you carry upon your back. I know of no other who has the respect which you do. Don Raoul, Muhammed ibn Hassan, all of them rate you more highly than almost any other warrior in Spain and they are both great warriors in their own lands.”

  “And I do not let it worry me for I can do nothing about it. I am wealthy and I have good friends. I am a loyal Castilian although not born of Castile and I could go to my maker now knowing that I have never been forsworn.”

  “Good, then all is well.”

  Chapter 5

  In the middle of May we left, officially for Zaragoza although, in reality, we were heading for the taifa of Valencia. The King had let all of his lords know that he was unhappy that Zaragoza had failed to pay their annual tribute and he intended to extract it from, as he put it, ‘those Muslims who oppose us’. It was clever wording for it told the Emir that if he did not fight us then he would not be attacked. It showed the importance of Rodrigo for he had set in place the subterfuge which would help us to appease Zaragoza whilst eliminating the threat of Valencia. His reading of warriors and generals in the past helped us, for he learned how others had succeeded when fighting against similar enemies. When I spoke with Rodrigo, I discovered that he had sent his blind servant, Hassan ibn Hassan, and Pablo to Zaragoza to deliver the message both secretly and personally so that there could be no doubt about our intentions.

  We rode just behind Álvar and the knights who would guard the Prince. It was an honour, but it was also a sound move for it meant that Rodrigo would have our protection. I still remembered Prince Sancho’s first command when his mistake in using Berber scouts almost cost him his life at the bridge. Since that time, he had always
tried to keep me close to him. The seven young warriors whom we had recently taken on were not with us for they were relegated to the baggage with Abu and Geoffrey but the fact that the four of us were so close to Prince Sancho made them even more determined than ever to match the high standards we had set. Each night, when we camped, they plagued us with questions about the campaign and what the great and the good had said. Iago was the most patient of us and he answered those which he was able to. Now that his first child was about to be born he had changed and he had become their mentor and taken on the role occupied, when he was alive, by my foster father. They seemed to want to know everything and thought that we must be privy to the Prince’s plans; we were not.

  Riding with Rodrigo and Álvar I learned that Rodrigo’s plan had been adopted. He had modified it in light of our escape. He realised that the road we had used was too small for our army and we used one further north along the higher ground. It made more sense for there were fewer places from which we could be ambushed and also it meant that we were closer to Valencia.

  We headed through Huesca. While an important city which also had rich silver mines, it was not well defended and the governor of the city wisely opened his gates to allow King Ferdinand in. It meant that the King, the Prince and their knights were housed in the city whilst we were relegated with the bulk of the army to camp outside. It was not pleasant for this was summer and it was hot. We also had thunderstorms and unseasonal rain which made our lives fairly miserable. For myself and my senior men, this was just something to be endured but the seven young warriors were more than unhappy at the discomfort as they had never campaigned before. I had fitted them out with clothes for Maria had insisted but I had not anticipated the rain. While my veterans and I had oiled cloaks, they did not and they were damp and bedraggled as we headed towards the coast.

  The King had taken tribute from the rich city of Huesca and he repeated that with the towns of Lleida and Cambrils which also accepted our presence. His plan was working, or rather Rodrigo’s plan was working. He was not called El Campeador without good reason. The King had scouts out and they were carefully chosen for we did not want to run into an enemy ambush. It was a wise precaution for as we neared the coast and the Taifa of Valencia they spotted an army led by Sayf al Dawla. It was a well thought out move on the part of the Valencians as we were still in Zaragoza and we would not be fighting on Valencian soil. That it suited us was clear when I attended a meeting with the King, the Prince and his leaders. Their faces were filled, not with fear, but joy that the Valencians had risen to the bait. We rode through a narrow pass in a land devoid of people; we had not seen any settlement of any size since we had taken Cambrils and headed inland to avoid a swampy area of land between the mountains and the sea. Rodrigo and I did not know this land, at the time, and we relied on local scouts. Abu knew the area and proved very helpful.

  When we were all at the meeting and we began it was not the King who spoke. To me, he did not look to be a well man and I wondered if the rain through which we had ridden had affected the fifty-year-old King. It was Prince Sancho who gave the lords their instructions. Gone was the reckless young warrior whose life I had saved at the Battle of Atapuerca, in his place was Sancho the Strong, a confident general and leader of men.

  “My father and I have spoken at length with my Armiger, Rodrigo de Vivar, and we are in agreement. The Valencians are waiting for us on the coast. They have brought their horse archers and their askari but the bulk of their army is made up of men on foot. They have chosen to defend a long and deep gully which runs from the sea to the mountains, it is a barracho, and they think that they are secure with it to protect them. They are not! Our scouts have reported that the ground is not suitable for knights to charge as it is covered in low bushes and scrub. We do not think that Sayf al Dawla wishes to fight. He wants us to retrace our steps into the mountains and return home with our tails between our legs and that would be a victory for him. We will show him that we are not dogs.”

  I saw him glance at me and my heart sank. I knew that I would be used, once more.

  “El Campeador has devised a clever strategy. We have with us many horsemen who are not knights and yet fight almost as well as knights. You have all seen William Redbeard fight and you know of his skill and courage. More importantly, the Moors know of him and his reputation. They see him as a warlord and we will use that knowledge to defeat them. He will lead all of the men who are not knights and he will engage their horse archers. We wish to draw their archers and their askari onto the lances of our knights who will be waiting at our own battle lines. It is unlikely that the Valencians will follow William Redbeard when he retreats and so we must make them believe that he is acting recklessly. To reinforce that ruse El Campeador will ride bareheaded to order William Redbeard and his men back to our lines. To capture the twin prizes of William Redbeard and El Campeador, Sayf al Dawla will order his men to pursue. I will lead the knights of Castile in a counter charge and we will negate the barracho!”

  Everyone cheered but I saw some of the young knights I had trained like Don Juan of Burgos and Don Iago of Astorga looking at me with concern. It was a risky business for Moorish horse archers were highly skilled and while my men had the tijfaf to protect our horses, some of the others whom I would be leading did not. The men to whom the Prince referred were not nobles but aspired to be them. Some were the young warriors who followed Prince Sancho and were being trained to be knights and others were the sons of merchants and rich men who could afford a warhorse and mail. Some were the rich men. I knew that all of the men I would be leading would have mail and good weapons, but I did not know how they would fight. I had to confess that it was a clever plan, for as none of the warriors I would lead had banners then the enemy would know we were not knights and, as such, think that we were easier to defeat.

  As I made my way back to my camp Rodrigo and Álvar joined me; Rodrigo’s tone told me he was embarrassed, “Will, I should have warned you before the meeting of the plan. I am sorry.”

  “It is your plan then? For I thought it was a plan of Prince Sancho’s so that he risked peasants and not his nobles!”

  Rodrigo looked at me sternly, “I have told you before, none of that! It is my plan and I will not risk your lives unnecessarily. I chose you to lead because I know that you will follow all of my instructions to the letter. The Prince gave an outline only. Let me come to your camp so that I can explain it to you and your men in detail. Then we will go together and tell the men whom you shall lead what is expected of them!”

  I owed it to Rodrigo to listen, but I was not confident that the plan would succeed. Our small camp was almost separate from the rest. We were close to Rodrigo and Álvar but closer to the horse lines. My men all stood when we walked into the camp for Rodrigo was El Campeador.

  “Sit, my friends, while I explain to you all that you will be doing tomorrow.” He looked pointedly at my seven acolytes, “All of you!”

  It was then that I realised he was also risking my young, untrained warriors. I had trained Rodrigo to be a warrior but I did not understand his mind. I think that no one could ever, truly, grasp the mind that was Rodrigo de Vivar. They sat and all of them, Iago included, gave their full attention to El Campeador.

  “Tomorrow you will all play a part in a deception which, hopefully, will win the battle for us.” The seven youngest grinned. “We want the world to believe that William Redbeard is a reckless fool for he will lead a host of wild horsemen to charge the enemy horsemen.” The grins left their faces and Iago, Juan and Pedro looked shocked. “I will add fuel to that fire by riding towards you and ordering you to retreat so that the enemy, when you flee in apparent terror, will hurtle after you and, I have no doubt, me, too. You will lead them onto the lances and spears of our knights.” He looked at me. “I intend that you get no closer than one hundred and fifty paces from the enemy and when you flee your men can gallop as hard as they like.” I nodded for I knew that our mail and tijfaf would prevent
too many injuries and, I hoped, no losses. “Now, Will and I will meet with the other men he will lead. Know that I chose you to lead this attack because I know your mettle and I know that you can pull this off.”

  I had no time to speak to my men. I would do that later and I would refine Rodrigo’s orders, for my men at least.

  The one hundred and ten men I would lead were not of the same mind as I and they were delighted to have been chosen. The rich men and the rich men’s sons had expected to be on the periphery of any fighting while the young would-be knights were delighted to be given the chance for glory and, perhaps, the chance of spurs. All remembered Salamanca and the knighting of six young warriors.

  After they had been briefed, Rodrigo led me back to my camp. “Babieca will draw the Moors to me. I am the one who will be at risk.”

  I shook my head, “It is a good plan, but you are wrong, for although Babieca will draw the enemy we both know that he can get you out of trouble faster than any other horse. Others will be at risk but not you. I will try to minimise the losses but I know that we will lose men. If we win the battle then that is a worthwhile trade but if not…”

  “We will win. Of course, we cannot use this trick again but for this battle, it is worth the risk.”

  And, as I walked alone to my men, I knew that I would have taken the risk for no other man and certainly not a king or a prince!

  Back at my camp, I refined the plan. The seven young warriors would ride in the third rank and would wear their shields over their backs. Abu and Geoffrey would ride with them and they were given the instructions to precipitate the flight. To be honest, it was what the Valencians would expect. It was myself and my three warriors riding at the fore who were at the greatest risk for my reputation told the Moors that, like Rodrigo, I was no coward.

  “Iago, find the weaponsmith. I would have aventails attached to our helmets. We will be the closest to the Berber archers and whatever extra protection we can have is worthwhile.”

 

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