El Campeador

by Griff Hosker

  The scene before me was one of chaos. The knights and askari had been badly disrupted before they even met our line. There were lamed horses wandering the body littered field. All cohesion and order had disappeared, and it was not a solid block of horsemen who approached us but blocks of men who had survived the caltrops and were now plotting a path to get at El Campeador.

  “Stephano, prepare the horn!” This was the crucial moment for Rodrigo had to time it to perfection and he did. As the caltrops were cleared and the hooves of the horsemen found solid and safe ground just three hundred paces from us, so the horn was sounded and the askari next to and behind us were launched. They flooded over the ridge like a sea of steel and steeds. For the first time since I had fought with El Campeador we did not move and, as there were no askari before us, the Christian knights led by the Count were able to close with us. It was all part of the plan for the askari we had sent were able to envelop and surround the flanks of the enemy.

  Jorge, Rodrigo and myself pulled our arms back as Abu and our wagon men hurled javelins and sent arrows at the knights who advanced. Count Garcia was still in the second rank but our spears and the javelins of our men quickly put him in the front rank. I smashed my spear into the chest of a Norman knight whose kite shield was not held tightly enough to his body. I used all of my strength and the head drove into the mail links, shattering them and the sharpened head ripped through the gambeson. As blood spurted the knight clutched at the spear and his horse wheeled to avoid Hercules’ snapping jaws.

  Rodrigo had driven his spear into the ventail of a Castilian knight. The thin metal veil was not enough to stop or even slow the blow and he fell to his death. Rodrigo and I drew our own swords and I found myself facing Gonzalo Ordóñez. It had been a long time since Pamplona, but I had never forgotten. His eyes widened as he saw who it was that he faced. I know that Rodrigo was keen to take prisoners, but I was set upon vengeance and I stood in my stirrups to bring down my sword at the head of my hated enemy. He was hampered by the fact that he still had a lance in his hands, and he had tried to strike Rodrigo with it. He changed his stroke and brought up his lance and shield to block the blow. He succeeded and that saved his life for the lance shattered and his horse was forced back a little. My job was to protect the side of El Campeador and so I did not advance as every instinct in my body demanded. I saw that Rodrigo had unhorsed another Castilian and was fighting the Armiger Regis of King Alfonso.

  Gonzalo Ordóñez made the mistake of taking my reluctance to advance as weakness or, perhaps, even cowardice and, drawing his sword, he urged his horse towards me. I pulled back on my reins and made Hercules rear. Don Gonzalo was committed to the attack and the rearing hooves caused two things to happen, firstly Count Garcia fell unceremoniously from his saddle and his kinsman, Gonzalo, turned his horse to present his shield side to me. I put every ounce of strength and hatred into my blow as I smashed Thor into his shield. His arm dropped when the shield cracked and his arm broke. I used a backhand slash to sweep my blade across his ventail and into his neck. I think I broke his neck with the blow for he fell lifeless to the ground.

  Grabbing Jorge’s spear Rodrigo placed the tip at Count Garcia’s throat, “Surrender or die like your kinsman!”

  “I yield!”

  With their leader a prisoner the other Castilian knights dropped their swords. The Normans, Aragonese and Lombards turned and fled. With a wave of askari charging after them down the hill the Grenadines broke and raced back south. The battle was over.

  I dismounted and lifted the Armiger Regis to his feet. I held him close to me with two hands and I said, quietly, “You had better hope that El Campeador and the Emir are in a good mood for I would like nothing better than to end your miserable life.”

  “I yielded!”

  “And I am not a knight! The rules which bind my master do not restrain me. When he questions you then answer honestly, or you will die!”

  Men were cheering wildly and none other heard my words. Count Garcia was a coward and he was petrified of me. He had seen me at Salamanca, and one did not provoke a madman.

  I had lost none although Jorge now had a new scar across his cheek. The Muslim doctor who tended him knew his business and the stitches were both small and neat. Jorge did not mind and the treasure and horses we took from the dead Castilian knights made it all worthwhile. We put the most notable of our prisoners in the wagon where my old warriors could watch them. Leaving a garrison in Cabra our triumphant army headed north to Córdoba. Riders took the news so that we were greeted by cheers and flowers as we headed home. That was the first time that Rodrigo was accorded his new name, El Cid, and title by masses of people. It echoed around the bowl that was Cabra. It became the name by which he was known and it is ironical that it was the Moors and not the Christians who accorded him the title and honorific which meant Master and he was for I never saw him bested during the whole time I followed him,

  We were just ten miles north of the battlefield when he waved me next to him, “What did you say to the Count?”

  “Nothing!”

  “Do not play me for the fool, Will, what did you say?”

  I shrugged, “I merely encouraged him to tell you the truth.”

  “You cannot threaten him for he yielded.”

  “You play by those rules, but I do not. We were deceived and duped. King Alfonso, with this knight’s compliance, imprisoned two of my men and tried to have us killed. You may turn the other cheek, but I do not.”

  We rode in silence for a while and then he said, quietly, “We have stepped across a chasm, old friend and there is no turning back. King Alfonso will not forgive this.”

  “He is in the wrong!”

  “He is a king and anointed by the Church. He can do no wrong.”

  “And you do not believe that.” He was silent and in that silence, I thought about our actions. Our lands were in Castile. Admittedly Briviesca was close to Navarre but I had no friends there. Rodrigo had said that the King would not harm our families but that did not mean that we could live with them. We would be outcasts and outlaws. At best we would be exiled but it was more likely that we would be banished with a sentence of death passed upon us and there was nothing we could do. “Do we ransom them?”

  “Perhaps, we will have to speak with the Emir.”

  The rest of the journey was one of celebration as our victorious army returned home and every leader of the Emir’s men wished to speak with Rodrigo. I rode with my men and that meant I was close to the Castilian knights. I could not speak openly. No matter what Rodrigo decided to do I would follow him. Our lives were too closely entwined for me to do anything else. However, even if we were banished, then I would go in secret to Briviesca. I owed it to Maria and my people to do so. Even though I could not talk openly, my heart was warmed by the camaraderie amongst my men. The older warriors all looked ten years younger. They had wounds which many men thought meant that they were useless, but we had given them a new life and hope. It was a lesson for all of us.

  When we reached Córdoba, the whole city turned out to greet us and Rodrigo’s new name rang out in wave after wave. I knew he had not sought such notoriety and had just done what he always did, fought for that which was right. Our prisoners were taken away to be held, in comfort, it must be admitted, and we were dressed in silken robes and were the two guests of honour at the Emir’s feast.

  Rodrigo sat between the Emir and me. Blackbeard sat on the opposite side of the Emir.

  For once the urbane and silkily smooth Emir seemed to be almost lost for words, “My generals tell me that you made the victory seem easy and it was almost as though you had some magical power over our enemies which made them do that which you wished.”

  Rodrigo modestly shook his head, “There was no magic. I just applied the right principles and trusted to the men I led. You have good warriors, Emir.”

  “And yet, in my lifetime and that of my father who was himself a great warrior, they have never had such a vic
tory. Will you stay and be my general? With the men who are available to you we would conquer the whole of this land.”

  It was a tempting offer and I am not sure why Rodrigo did not accept. He was being given complete freedom to make war against whomsoever he wished and could have wreaked vengeance upon Alfonso. He smiled, “First we have to decide what to do with the prisoners.”

  “They are yours to use as you will.”

  Rodrigo nodded, “And soon I will return to my home in the north and face the wrath of my King. You still have a pariah to pay for it was the Grenadines who made war on you.”

  “But they were aided by Castile!” The Emir seemed incredulous.

  Rodrigo shook his head, “They fought not under the standard of Castile but their own banners. King Alfonso would argue that they did so independently despite the fact that his Armiger Regis led them.”

  The Emir shook his head, “You are a clever man. So what do you suggest?”

  “That the ransom for the knights we captured is the pariah that you owe King Alfonso. You keep your tribute and Alfonso has his men returned.”

  The Emir laughed so loudly that all men turned to stare at him, “That, my friend, is pure genius and keeps the peace. Know this, El Cid, you are always our friend and even if every door in Spain is closed to you then there will be a sanctuary for you here.”

  “And I may well need that sanctuary.”

  The Emir insisted upon an escort for us when we left for Castile four days later. My men had taken advantage of the fine weaponsmiths to buy better weapons, mail and helmets. That included the four older warriors who had thought they no longer needed such things. The Emir also paid Rodrigo and myself for our time. That led to the rumour that we had sequestered part of the pariah and that was not true. If the Emir used the tribute to pay us that was one thing, but Rodrigo did not abuse the trust which King Alfonso had given to him. Our escorts did not part from us until we were close to the walls of León. It was Don Iago of Astorga who rode out to meet us. His face was serious as he viewed the men we led, “El Campeador, are you here to make war on Castile and León?”

  Rodrigo smiled, “No, my friend, we have returned from the mission King Alfonso gave to us and the men of Córdoba just wanted to see that we reached here safely,” he lowered his voice, “and that our lives would not be in danger.”

  Don Iago smiled, “You have my word that your lives are not in danger.”

  With that we parted from our escort and then we rode into the city walls. There we had a less fulsome welcome than in Córdoba. There were scowls and hisses rather than cheers as we rode through the streets and I sensed my men becoming angry. I turned and said, “We follow Rodrigo de Vivar and we do not react to baying mobs.”

  “Aye, lord!”

  As soon as the prisoners were released, I sent Pedro and the other old warriors with the wagon, treasure and horses back to Briviesca. I retained Abu and Jorge and the rest went as escorts for the wagon and the gold. I knew not what would happen to us but in light of the disappearance of Christos and Sebastian I would take no chances. Count Garcia said nothing to me. Rodrigo had questioned him at length and discovered that he had been sent by King Alfonso. While Rodrigo was surprised that the Count was so open, I knew the real reason was that he feared for his life.

  We went to the King’s Hall where we were made to wait half a day for an audience. Don Iago and many of the other knights who had been trained by us kept us company and we learned of the King’s anger. We were also able to give our side of the story and from Don Iago’s reaction, it was a surprise to all of them.

  “And what of Christos and Sebastian, Don Iago?”

  “I know not but I will find out for they are good men and should not be abused because of a King’s whim.”

  There were enough of Rodrigo’s loyal men for us to be safe and he left us. Eventually the King admitted us. None of the captured lords were there but all of the senior bishops and lords were present. This would be a trial rather than a simple meeting. We were both stood before the King and armed guards watched the doors. The knights whom we had trained were all present and I took comfort from that for the King would not be able to do anything which was illegal.

  “Don Rodrigo of Vivar, you have displeased us and behaved in a manner which is dishonourable.” I heard mumblings from behind us which the King dismissed with an imperious wave of his hand. “You have conspired with my enemies and slain Christian knights! What do you have to say for yourself?”

  It was good that it was Rodrigo and not myself who spoke for I was on the edge of an eruption. When Rodrigo spoke, it was calmly and quietly and had a powerful effect on all but the most hardened of King Alfonso’s fawning courtiers. “Your Majesty, I was charged with fetching the pariah from the taifa of Córdoba. The Emir asked for a different arrangement and we sent messengers back to appraise Your Majesty of the changes. Those men did not return.”

  “No such men reached me, and you were not sent to negotiate with those who owe us tribute, you were there to collect it!” Rodrigo said nothing. “Had that been your only crime then we might have allowed you to merely do penance for your incompetence.” This time there was outrage at the King’s words and he shouted, “Silence or I shall hear this in private! I am King!” It sounded petulant but it had the desired effect and silence descended. It was so quiet that I heard the door to the hall open and close but not a single person turned. All eyes were on the King and El Campeador. It was like a bout in the gyrus! “You led the army of Córdoba and waged war against Christians.”

  Every eye swivelled to Rodrigo to see how he would answer the charge. He did so adroitly. “Your Majesty, the Emir of Córdoba asked me to help him repel an invasion from Granada. We had not heard from you and the taifa was still, as far as I was aware, under the protection of Castile and León.”

  The King said, through gritted teeth, “León and Castile, the Kingdom is León and Castile!”

  “I apologise, King Alfonso. I led the armies of the Emir and when we saw the Christian knights, we did not attack them. I gave the order for the men from Africa and the Grenadine horse archers to be attacked. The Christian knights, who had no banner save their own, attacked us and we defended ourselves.”

  The murmuring was lower now as men realised the truth. “You expect us to believe that you did not attack the Christians first?”

  “If you would fetch out Count Garcia and if the bishops will provide a Bible then we can get to the truth of the matter. I am surprised that your Armiger Regis is not here, or has he already given you a good reason why he allied with an enemy of one of your allies?”

  The King was silent, and I saw him colour. No explanation had been given, yet, for the absence of Count Garcia. “It is immaterial, and I will now pass judgement.” It was then that I heard a door open but not a head turned for we were all fixed upon the scene before us.

  The Bishop of Burgos was no longer the most senior cleric, but he wielded a great deal of power and influence. In addition to which he was a friend of not only the dead King Sancho but Rodrigo too.”

  “Your Majesty, it seems to me that not all of the evidence has been heard. Summon the Armiger as El Campeador suggests.”

  “I rule here and not a disgraced Armiger Regis nor the Bishop of Burgos!” Besides, Count Garcia has endured enough at this traitor’s hand and I do not trust the peasant he has with him!

  So the Count had told the King of my threat, I merely smiled.

  “We cannot believe a word he says and my judgement…”

  “Your Majesty!” We all turned and I saw Don Iago of Astorga and with him he had Christos and Sebastian. “I found these men in your cells. They are the two messengers sent by El Campeador. I have spoken with them and taken this deposition.” He flourished a parchment. “It confirms what Don Rodrigo said.”

  The silence which filled the room was like a sword hanging over us all. Civil war would be a few words away for many in the room had more than a little sympathy fo
r Rodrigo. King Alfonso was glaring daggers at both Don Iago and Don Rodrigo. His words told us that he had turned away from the prospect of civil war. “I knew nothing of this, and someone will pay for this. However, Don Rodrigo, we cannot allow you to live in my Kingdom. You are exiled from the Christian lands I rule, León, Castile, Galicia, Aragon and Navarre!” I saw the hint of a smile for the only places left to Rodrigo and, by association me, were the taifa states or Catalonia.

  He had averted civil war but not by much. Rodrigo and I were islands of calm as voices were raised all around us. I did not take my eyes from King Alfonso and I think I saw fear there for while Rodrigo was honourable, I was a hired sword and my words to Count Garcia must have frightened him. I made him look away and then, satisfied, turned to greet my two men.

  “Were you treated badly?”

  “We have endured worse on campaign, lord, but we felt we had let you down.”

  I raised my voice so that all around could hear my words, “The only man around here who has let anyone down is the King and he will answer to God!”

  Rodrigo grabbed my arm and propelled me from the chamber, “Quiet, Will!”

  “Or? What can he do to us, Don Rodrigo? The man lies. He sent us to Córdoba and then tried to initiate a war and blacken our name. He knew that my two men were prisoners. We are well out of it!”

  We had reached the courtyard where Don Iago was waiting, and Jorge had our horses already saddled. He greeted Christos and Sebastian while we took our leave of Don Iago. He grasped Rodrigo’s arm, Farewell, El Campeador. Where will you go?”

  Rodrigo had regained his composure and he would not compromise his friend by making him party to our plans. Despite giving us his help Don Iago had sworn an oath to King Alfonso and could not go against him. “I know not. First, I will see Jimena and tell her what has happened. She may accompany me but I would not wish that on anyone for Will and I will be a target for all those who have hated us over the years.”