El Campeador

by Griff Hosker

  “This is a test of arms under God’s gaze. The better general will devise the best plan and the superior and more deserving warriors will prevail.”

  I remembered the conversation I had had with Rodrigo and Don Diego Fernandez when I had spoken of luck and fate. I was not convinced but, once more, my men and I would be paid for our services and despite the fact that I followed a great lord, I was still a mercenary. King Sancho was quite happy to pay us as he knew we gave good value for money. Thus far he had yet to have to compensate us for horses lost in the battles and campaigns and we always won him more gold than we were paid. However, I think he knew that without Don Rodrigo, El Campeador, we would not have fought for him quite as readily.

  When the herald returned from King Alfonso, Rodrigo was summoned to the King’s tent and I accompanied him. By now I was well known and did not need to beg to be allowed to follow El Campeador. There were fewer men in the meeting. Álvar was there as well as King Fernando’s right-hand man, Don Raimundo. The King had a map before him on the travelling table he had had brought out. He jabbed a finger with a solitary signet ring upon it, at a place on the other side of the river. “We are to fight there at the fourth hour of the day.” He smiled, “My brother hopes to put me at a disadvantage for the river is behind us and he hopes to drive us from the field. I am quite happy to fight there for we shall not be pushed back across the river. I will be in the centre with my foot soldiers and archers. El Campeador will lead my household knights on the left flank while Don Juan of Burgos will lead the rest and will occupy the right flank.”

  That this was the King’s plan became obvious when he told us how we would be deployed for King Alfonso would send his best men to get at King Sancho. Rodrigo would have protected King Sancho. I saw the frown appear on Rodrigo’s face and King Sancho smiled. “Do not fear for me, El Campeador, I have brought with me the weapon your fellow Redbeard and his men used at Coimbra, the fauchard. I watched them use it and realised that it would be even more effective against horses for it would not only provide a barrier, it would also be able to inflict a mortal wound if dragged across a horses’ throat. Even a tijfaf would be of little use. My brother will send his best men to get at me. It is the same as when we played chess as boys. He always went for the King! I will use, instead, my Castilian knight, El Campeador, to win the day. Rodrigo will lead my knights to attack the right flank of the enemy and to roll them up. When they are under attack then Don Juan will attack the other flank.” He smiled and folded his arms, “Well, what do you think?” He was speaking to all but looking at Rodrigo.

  “I like the plan, Your Majesty, but I would be happy with some of your knights to protect you.”

  “This only works if Alfonso thinks I have made a mistake and exposed myself. The fauchards will be hidden until the last minute. In addition, we will ensure that the ground before us is sodden. The recent rain has added to the sticky conditions and when we have finished then it will be a quagmire in which they will be stuck.”

  “Then, King Sancho, I believe that we might succeed.”

  It was the answer the King wanted. Álvar, Rodrigo and I left the tent and it occurred to me that the King was being advised by senior lords I had not seen before this campaign. I did not know their worth in battle and it worried me a little. But I had to put that from my mind as Rodrigo was already planning our charge. The King had told him what to do but the how would be Rodrigo’s decision.

  “Let us not change our style, Álvar and Will. Álvar, you will ride at one side of me and you, Will, the other,” he smiled, “I know that I am protecting myself for with you two at my side then I divide the enemy for both of you have such a great reputation that young knights will seek you two every bit as much as they seek me.” We both nodded although it was not true. There was no greater target on a battlefield than El Campeador. “Will, have your men behind us and Jorge can carry my banner.” He looked at me, “He is ready?”

  “Assuredly,” In the last year or so Don Luis’ nephew had become stronger and as skilled as even Juan or Pedro. He still had some way to go to emulate Iago, but that day would come.

  “We do not know yet whom we will be facing but I tend to agree with the King. They will use their knights in our centre and the King will be their target. That is why they chose this ground.” He turned to me, “Can Jorge use the horn yet?”

  “He can.”

  “Then send him to me so that I may instruct him on the signals that he shall give.” He rubbed his hands together, “I am always happier when I have a plan, even though this is not the one I would have chosen but it was to be expected, for it is brother fighting brother. Now you should prepare.”

  That was always his way for he was a perfectionist. My men, especially Jorge and the rest of my younger warriors were more than happy to be given such an important role. Abu and Geoffrey would stay on the Castilian side of the river. I went to our horses with Geoffrey. Since he had become a father and now had two children, he, like Iago, had changed. One might have expected him to become more cautious, but he had simply become more efficient and took on extra tasks without being asked. He knew that his future and that of his family was irrevocably bound up with my band of warriors.

  “All of the horses are in fine fettle, lord, and, to be honest, they are more than ready for war. Killer has been yearning for battle. He does not enjoy enforced idleness.”

  I nodded, “I know but we cannot make wars, can we?”

  “That is true lord, but peace makes him more aggressive in the stable. Since Sunflower was put down, he seeks a calmer influence. Copper and Berber do not do it. You should look for a quiet mare for him.”

  “You wish me to breed from him?”

  We had reached the horse lines and Killer’s eyes lit upon the two of us. I took a small, unripe apple from my tunic and gave it to him. For some reason, he liked them sour.

  “It would make sense, lord. He has good blood in him and even if the resulting horses were not true warhorses, they would have the qualities of one. You have the only true warhorses in the stable and I think this is a good idea.”

  “Then we look around for one.” We began to examine Killer and when he stood Geoffrey pointed across the river, “Mayhap tomorrow we will find one. When we win the battle Abu and I will cross and seek one out from the unhorsed and dead knights!”

  “You are that confident we shall win?”

  “We have heard that El Campeador will lead and if he does so then you shall win. None are taking bets on any other results.”

  Such was the faith the ordinary warriors had in the man whose back I would guard.

  I did not see Rodrigo until the next day for he was busy with his household knights and King Sancho’s bodyguard. I took it as a compliment that he knew that I would know what to do. I was able to sit and speak with Jorge and the other warriors. Iago, Juan and Pedro now looked their age; they were an exception on the battlefield, they had greys hairs in their beards. I was now full-grown and even sporting some lighter coloured hair in my beard but my three older warriors were just a few years younger than King Ferdinand had been when he had died. Soon they would go to war no more. I would have to take on young warriors and so I spoke with my seven youngest men and we spoke of how we would fight.

  “Jorge, you have great responsibility tomorrow. Carrying the banner means that you will only fight if we are threatened. To that end, Christos, you guard Jorge along with Don Rodrigo’s man, Diego.” They both nodded. “We do not know yet whom we shall face tomorrow. It may be horsemen but, equally it might be men on foot. Either way, it will not be easy. Whatever happens, you do not join the front rank. Iago, Juan and Pedro can but not you seven. Instead, you watch how we fight for the day is coming when you will have to join the front ranks and fight knights.”

  Raoul asked, incredulously, “But we are not knights! How can we fight knights?”

  Iago had been listening, “The difference between us and a knight is that he wears spurs and that is al
l. We trained all of the knights who fight with the King and the test they had to pass was to beat one of us. We did not give them the challenge of defeating William Redbeard. Had we done so then there would have been just one knight who would now be fighting with King Sancho, El Campeador! You have all been trained well and all that you need now is to get some battles under your belts and a few scars so that you look as ugly as Juan here!”

  That made them laugh and set a positive mood. We said our prayers and went to bed early knowing that we had the best chance of victory the next day.

  The army crossed the river the next day. There was a bridge but we also used a pontoon which had been built and some of the lightly mailed warriors as well as the horsemen could ford it for it was summer and the water level was down. The men who would be in the centre, the mailed men on foot, crossed under cover of darkness with their fauchards disguised in cloaks. I led Killer along the bank and saw them making water and defecating on the ground the men of León would have to cross. My men followed me and we crossed the bridge and then walked downstream to the left flank of the army. My men and I recognised some of the men who would fight on foot and good-natured banter ensued.

  My younger warriors and myself were excluded from the banter; they, because they had yet to prove themselves and myself, for I was the shield of El Campeador. He was on the left flank already with Álvar and I saw that Philip and Paulo were with him. Philip held the reins of Babieca while Paulo held his helmet. I knew that Rodrigo would not risk them and as soon as the battle began, they would be sent to shelter close to the King, but he knew that they would wish to be involved. The two boys who might have been bandits now wore the livery of El Campeador and if that is not a sign of the existence of fate then I know not what is. This was the last time they fought with Don Rodrigo for, after the battle, he sent them to me to continue their training and they never left my side.

  Seeing me he pointed across the flat ground before us, “It looks like we fight against horsemen.” I saw that there were, ahead of us, the light horsemen who came from the plains of León. They were farmers who used their horses to round up their cattle and move them from pasture to pasture. They were good horsemen but neither Rodrigo nor I had ever seen them fight. Few had mail and they did not ride warhorses. Some would be armed with a spear while others would have javelins or even a bow or two. What we did know was that if they attacked it would be to annoy and irritate us as their primary function was to pursue a defeated enemy. From his dispositions, King Alfonso was overly confident about his ability to defeat King Sancho.

  I counted them. It was harder than counting knights where you could just count banners. “I estimate that they outnumber by two to one.” He nodded. I then looked across to where King Alfonso was forming up the rest of his men. The sun had crept over the eastern horizon while we had been crossing the river and its rays now reflected from the mail and helmets of his knights. He had assembled more than eight hundred knights and I recognised some banners, notably those of Don Gonzalo Ordóñez and his cousin, King Alfonso’s Armiger Don Garcia. This day I would be fighting against men I knew.

  The battle was formally arranged, and I saw King Sancho and King Alfonso, along with their bishops, approach each other in the centre of the battlefield. King Sancho made certain that the meeting took place on dry ground. King Alfonso and his men would soon have a shock. When the King returned the Bishop of Burgos raised his crozier and we all knelt before him. We were blessed and the Bishop told us that our sins were forgiven. A deep, hidden part of me wondered if this was true but it made men feel better about the prospect of dying and did no harm.

  Once the bishops had departed to wait safely behind the lines King Alfonso’s horns sounded and his knights followed his banner as he galloped across the flat ground towards King Sancho and his waiting men. King Sancho waited until the horsemen were committed and then ordered his men to pick up their fauchards. It coincided with the moment the Leónese found the soiled ground and their horses not only slowed, one or two slipped and fell on the excrement. In the grander scheme of things, it only affected one or two knights, but the line was disrupted. A charge of knights cannot easily be stopped, and they ploughed into the waiting weapons and shields. There was a crack of metal on wood. The men standing with King Sancho were four men deep and a hedgehog of fauchards, spears and pikes were a barrier which even warhorses could not negotiate. The horsemen stopped and they used their lances to try to get at the men on foot. As I knew well, the fauchard was a vicious weapon and many knights lost warhorses first and then, as they were unhorsed, their lives.

  The battle was now in the balance; the long pole weapons neutralised the knights but the foot soldiers could not win the battle and it was up to El Campeador to swing it in King Sancho’s favour. As with all military matters, he judged the moment to perfection. While the battle at the river ebbed and flowed, as men fell on both sides and others stepped up to take their place, he said, “Jorge, sound the advance.” His genius was in making this a slow approach for the men of León would wonder if we were going to attack the flanks of King Alfonso’s men or just position ourselves to cut off a retreat. Either way, it would unsettle the enemy. The ground was flat and, where we rode, relatively hard. I had my spear resting across my cantle and both Babieca and Killer were eager for war. It had been a couple of years since they had ridden in a battle formation. The spear across his neck told my mount that we were in a battle.

  We were boot to boot and so we had a much narrower frontage than the light horsemen we faced. If they had their wits about them then they could charge and outflank us but hesitation and doubt filled their minds, for they were not well-led, and they waited. Our movement had unsettled the horsemen following King Alfonso and some, at the rear, were edging back towards the safety of the main line. When we were two hundred paces from the light horsemen and as those with bows were releasing a few hopeful missiles, Rodrigo shouted, “Sound the charge!” We were soon cantering and as the strident notes echoed Rodrigo spurred Babieca and Killer followed. With Álvar tight on his other side, the three of us formed an arrowhead at the fore of our line and we headed for the centre of the enemy. We had made forty paces when we heard their horn sound and they began a counter charge. It was too little and too late. A javelin struck my shield and an arrow embedded itself in my jubbah, but it was a hunting arrow and did nothing to either harm or slow me. I pulled back my arm and rode towards the knight who led the light horsemen. He had a standard-bearer and there were two mailed retainers. Rodrigo and Álvar had the same target. The knight was brave and, perhaps, thought to have a moment of glory for he and his oathsworn rode at us. Our horses were now galloping and theirs were just trotting.

  I saw that the knight was closer to Rodrigo and so I adjusted my arm and thrust at the oathsworn mailed warrior next to him. The warrior tried to raise his shield, but it was in vain for he was using his left arm to urge his horse on. Killer had the bit between his teeth and needed no urging. My spear hit the man’s shoulder so hard that it spun him around and he tumbled from his horse. I heard Jorge’s horse’s hoof as it crunched into his skull. The falling body had torn it free from my spear and I struck a farmer who followed the warrior in the side. He wheeled his horse and, bleeding from the wound, tried to flee. Our line now hit theirs and as Rodrigo’s lance took the knight so Álvar slew the standard-bearer and Christos managed to catch the standard before it touched the ground. We had far fewer men than the enemy but each knight managed to kill, wound or unhorse their opponent and that exposed those who were already fearful. Even though they outnumbered us they ran and they headed towards the town for there lay the road out of this battle.

  Don Juan of Burgos saw that we had done all that had been asked and sounded his horn, sending his men to charge the other flank. There the horsemen did not even make a pretence of standing for those we had defeated were racing past them. In the centre the spearmen and swordsmen were resolute but they were attacking King Sancho who was still
safely protected by fauchards and the river and we hit the Leónese flank and rear. I hit one man, unhorsing him and broke my spear on a second. Rodrigo’s lance had shattered with his first victim and Tizona was out and he was carving a path through the warriors. He was seemingly untouchable as he headed to the centre where the standard of León stood. Whoever commanded there saw what was happening and sounded the retreat. The knights and King Alfonso had barely been holding their own and when they turned and saw our knights in their rear then they did not simply retreat, they fled the field.

  The Leónese foot soldiers died so that their standard and their king could escape. They turned to face the threat we posed and held us at bay. They could not hurt us, and our horses were now too weary to charge again. It was a standoff for they presented a solid wall of shields and spears. If we had had horse archers with us, then it would have been different, but we were two Christian armies fighting each other. Those knights with lances and spears would skewer a foot soldier and another would take his place. When the King had gone and the standard was safe, they surrendered. We had the field and we had won! It did not mean that King Alfonso was defeated merely that he had lost one battle. It was a remarkably simple and easy victory. Like most battles, it could not be repeated and our next one would require a different plan. I was confident that we would have one for we were led by El Campeador.

  Chapter 8

  This had been a battle in which both kings had sought to test the other’s weaknesses. We had found theirs and won. King Alfonso would lick his wounds and try to find a way to defeat us the next time we fought. We had too few men to invade King Alfonso’s kingdom and so we entered Valladolid and demanded tribute from that city. We returned home using the river and took tribute from all of the border towns. King Sancho took half of the tribute, but he was generous and the army which followed him was given the other half. King Sancho was pleased that it had been his strategy and battle plan which had succeeded and not Rodrigo’s. I do not say that King Sancho was jealous of El Campeador, but it must have been hard for him to hear his knights extolling the virtues and prowess of the Armiger Regis.