After Bannockburn

by H A CULLEY

  The following day they set out for Stirling with a thousand others. Edgar rode up the column of riders until he found the Marischal and asked him about finding a squire. Half an hour later he rode back to Simon and Rollo.

  ‘No luck finding a squire but he did ask about pages now that we are both married, or nearly so, hopefully.’

  ‘I haven’t done anything about it, although Bridget has mentioned it a couple of times. What did Sir Richard say?’

  ‘He has a cousin with twin boys of eight who he has promised to help place. This cousin has a small manor, it seems, and lacks the influence to place them with a lord, hence his request to Richard Keith.’

  ‘Where is this manor?’

  ‘A few miles east of Edinburgh.’

  ‘Well, I suppose we can call there on our way to Dunbar but it doesn’t help with finding you a squire.’

  The twins were called Piers and Hugo and had apparently been allowed to run wild. The idea of becoming pages hadn’t appealed to them but their father had explained to them that it was the first step if they hoped to become knights. As they had elder brothers, who were currently squires, they would need to make their own way in the world. The two boys had taken to Simon and Edgar and were enthralled by their tales of sea battles. When the knights left two days later the twins went with them, riding their ponies. Rollo was delighted because, until Edgar found himself a squire, they would act as body servants, thus halving his workload, even if he did have to teach them what to do.

  Everyone was impressed when Dunbar castle came into view. The castle sat on a rock jutting out into the sea. The first gatehouse stood on the mainland and from there visitors had to traverse a wooden bridge to the main castle, standing on its rocky island. They weren’t expected and discovered that the earl was out hunting. He wasn’t due back until that evening but his countess made them welcome and they were shown into a small tower room by a page. There was one bed, which the brothers would have to share, and a pallet for Rollo. Piers and Hugo were taken away by the boy to the chamber where he and his fellow pages lived.

  Edgar and Simon left Rollo to unpack and went for a walk along the battlements. They stopped to look down at the waves crashing against the rock on which the walls were built. As they stood there a boy of about fourteen walked towards them along the parapet. He stood back respectfully to let them past but Edgar stopped.

  ‘Are you a squire here, lad?’

  ‘I was, sir but the knight I served died last week and so I am waiting to find out what is to happen to me.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. What did he die of?’

  The boy grinned. ‘Old age. It happens all the time.’

  Instead of being offended by his levity, as some would have been, Edgar laughed.

  ‘Indeed. I’m Sir Edgar de Powburn and this is my brother, Sir Simon, who has the manor at Lamberton.’

  The boy bowed to both men. ‘I’m Patrick Graham. My father has the manor at Ecclaw but, alas, I’m only the second son.’

  Suddenly something registered with Patrick and a look of awe crossed his face.

  ‘I’m sorry. Did you say your names were Sir Simon and Sir Edgar de Powburn? You are the brothers who defeated the English fleet and saved Berwick! I’m really honoured to meet you.’

  ‘Honoured enough to want to become my squire?’ Edgar asked with a smile.

  When the earl returned from hunting he was not in a good mood. He had found little game and he was still tired after the long journey back from Arbroath, so when his countess told him that he had two guests, he was hardly in the right mood to grant favours. Luckily Simon recognised this and whispered to Edgar to wait. However, that didn’t seem to be a possibility.

  ‘What brings you to Dunbar?’ the earl asked grumpily.

  ‘My brother Edgar had recently been knighted…’ Simon began, anxious that Edgar didn’t begin by raising his betrothal to Catriona.

  ‘I know, I was there,’ the earl cut in.

  ‘But he needs a squire and we gather that Patrick Graham needs placing again.’

  ‘Got a tongue in his head, has he, this brother of yours, or do you always do the talking for him.’

  ‘Of course, my lord, it just seemed better for Sir Simon to plead my case than for me to do so.’

  ‘Hmmm. Well, you’re correct, though how you heard about it on your way back from Arbroath eludes me.’

  The brothers thought it best to say nothing in reply to this comment.

  ‘You have the manor at Lamberton I think, Sir Simon?’

  ‘You are well informed, my lord.’

  ‘Yes, I am. Well enough to know that your real reason for coming here, Sir Edgar, is to plead for the hand of Catriona of Ayton.’

  Edgar smiled. ‘So much for delicately leading up to the matter.’

  ‘Well, you ask a lot. Not only do you want one of my manors but you expect me to provide you with a squire as well.’

  Suddenly the earl smiled. ‘From all that I have heard, you are an enterprising young man. You realise that you will have to tear yourself away from your damned ships to provide me with military service on land when needed?’

  ‘Of course, my lord.’

  ‘Very well then, you have my blessing.’

  ‘Thank you, my lord. I am most grateful.’

  ‘I’m sure you are. I would be offended if you weren’t.’ The earl smiled again. ‘You’ll have to take up the matter of a squire with Patrick’s father, though. Take him back to Ecclaw with you when you go.’

  ‘Have you sorted out any pages to attend your wife once you are married?’ The countess spoke for the first time during the meal.

  ‘Not yet, my lady.’

  ‘I presume the twins I saw larking about with my rascals earlier are intended for your household then, Sir Simon?’

  ‘Yes, my lady, Hugo and Piers.’

  ‘Huh, Normans then.’ The earl sounded as if he disapproved of Normans, then Simon recalled that he was descended from Anglo-Saxon stock and that his ancestors had been Earls of Northumbria centuries ago.

  The countess, who was Norman, gave him a sharp look but then ignored the interruption.

  ‘I may be able to help. There are three boys who are seven or eight now who I have been asked to help place later this year. One is Patrick Graham’s younger brother and the other two are the sons of Sir John Logan, who has the manor of Haddington.’

  ‘You are very kind, my lady. Perhaps I could ask my betrothed to talk to you about the two boys from Haddington?’ All this was new territory for Edgar and he wasn’t quite sure if he needed pages so it was a polite, and correct response as it was normally the lady of the manor who chose her pages.

  ‘I’ll take Patrick’s brother, if that’s agreeable. I’m sure they would like to be together again.’

  ‘Not all brothers get on as well as you two seem to; but perhaps you would like to suggest it to Lady Graham when you are at Ecclaw?’

  The party, now increased to six, set off for Ecclaw the next morning. It was a crisp April morning and the sun soon melted the frost from the night before. They followed the main road from Dunbar along the coast towards Berwick, intending to turn off at Cockburnspath onto the track that led to Ecclaw. As they rode along Patrick revelled in his good fortune at finding a knight with the reputation of Sir Edgar. He and Simon had been the heroes of the squires and pages at Dunbar. His former knight had been old and bedridden and tending him had been unpleasant. His armour was never going to be worn again and his horses were cared for by the stable lads, so all he had had to keep him busy were riding lessons and training with weapons but that didn’t take up all his time.

  Suddenly he was roused from his reverie by something. They were riding through a small wood that lined the cliffs above the beach some two hundred feet below. Then he realised what it was. The birdsong that had filled the air when they entered the wood had stopped. There had to be a reason for that, and the most likely reason was the presence of either a large predator or of humans
hiding in the undergrowth.

  He touched his heels to his jennet and rode forward to Sir Edgar’s side.

  ‘This silence bodes ill for us, I suspect,’ he told him sotto voce.

  Edgar nodded and looked at Simon as they pulled their palfreys to a halt. Neither was dressed in armour, although they both wore their swords at their sides and their shields were strapped to the sides of the packhorses. It was customary for a new knight’s sponsor to provide him with a war horse as well as a sword but Edgar’s destrier was being led by one of the pages and, in any case, he had no saddle for it. Simon hadn’t bothered to bring his.

  Without being told, the squires brought the shields forward, together with Simon’s battle axe. They then went back, dismounted and unlaced two small crossbows that had been brought along in case the two brothers wanted to do some hunting. With the help of the pages, they managed to string the bows and load each with a quarrel. Then they mounted and rode forward to join their masters.

  As they rounded a bend in the road, the bushes fifty yards to the landward side erupted and four horsemen charged out, yelling and wielding their swords. Without thinking, Patrick brought his crossbow up and, in one smooth action, released his quarrel. It struck the man on the left of the charging group directly in the centre of his chest, penetrated the chainmail he was wearing and lodged in his heart. He was dead before he hit the ground.

  Rollo fired his crossbow a split second later but his aim was poor. It hit a courser in the middle of its forehead and the horse went down, his forelegs buckling and throwing its rider over its head. He hit the ground and lay still. Meanwhile Simon and Edgar kicked their spurs into the sides of their horses and the startled animals leapt forward straight into a gallop. Simon threw up his shield to ward off the sword thrust of his opponent and brought his axe around into the side of the other man. The blade sliced through the chain mail links and through the leather jerkin he wore underneath, lodging in the man’s side, breaking several ribs as it did so. Two of these pierced his left lung and he fell forward onto his horse’s neck.

  Meanwhile Edgar was engaged in a fierce fight with the last of the attackers. Both were armed with sword and shield, though the other man’s shield was plain black, like his surcoat. Edgar aimed a blow at the man’s head but it merely glanced off the great helm he was wearing. He took the opportunity as Edgar had overreached to stab at his neck but Edgar got his shield in the way just in time.

  Simon wondered whether to intervene. He knew that Edgar wouldn’t thank him for it. He already thought that Simon was far too protective of him but better his resentment than the tongue lashing Catriona would give him if he allowed Edgar to come to any harm. Then the decision was taken out of his hands as a quarrel sped past his ear and struck the black knight’s helm. If the shot hadn’t hit the metal plate at ninety degrees it would have ricocheted away but it struck true. It punched a hole through the helm, through the chain mail coif and the leather arming cap and lodged in the knight’s brain.

  Edgar looked round to see who had robbed him of his opponent but, when he saw it was Patrick, he smiled and nodded his thanks. Simon smiled to himself. It seemed that Patrick Graham could already get away with things that he wouldn’t be able to.

  All four assailants were obviously knights from their armour and the horses they rode, not to mention their gold plated spurs. Two wore black surcoats and two white. Obviously they wished to keep their identity secret but it was obvious who they served. When Edgar took the great helm off his attacker it was confirmed. The last time they had seen this man was when they had ambushed the two papal legates and the Bishop of Durham. He was the captain of the bishop’s personal guard.

  ‘Perhaps it was too difficult for the good bishop to hire a professional assassin, so he used his own men. Most unwise.’

  ‘What should we do with them?’

  ‘I suggest we cut off their heads and send them back to their master. Their bodies we can hang from a tree as a warning to others.’

  ‘Well done, boys, especially you Patrick. Now strip these vermin of their armour whilst I go in search of some rope. And fix up some halters so you can lead the three destriers. We now have a decent stable, eh Edgar?’

  But his brother was lost in thought. ‘After Ecclaw I think I will make for Coldingham and make confession to the Prior there. With the evidence of this attack, I may be able to persuade the prior to give me absolution and so automatically lift the sentence of excommunication.’

  A few hours later, they arrived at Ecclaw to find that Patrick’s father lived in a hall with a tower attached to it. Simon thought that it wasn’t a bad idea as it made the place much more defensible and thought about doing the same at Lamberton. As they rode through the gate in the wooden palisade, an ostler ran out of the stables followed by a stable boy. They took the two knights’ horses and led them off, followed by the squires and pages with the rest. As there were already four horses and a pony in the small stables, most of the visitors’ dozen horses would have to be tethered in the open. Although the weather was fine, he knew that there would be a frost again during the night and Simon worried that the horses would suffer.

  Patrick’s family consisted of his parents, Alexander, who was nearly eight, a younger boy of five and three girls ranging from eleven to three years old. The children gave Patrick an ecstatic welcome and his mother a more sober one. However, his father frowned at him and demanded to know why he had returned so soon

  ‘Didn’t you get the earl’s letter telling you that Sir Augustus had died?’

  ‘No, we have heard nothing since you left. So he has washed his hands of you and returned you to me, has he?’

  ‘No he hasn’t,’ Edgar cut in, angry at the way that Patrick was being treated by his father. ‘Perhaps we could start by formally introducing ourselves?’

  ‘Forgive my husband’s boorish manners,’ his wife said, smiling. But I’m afraid that he is always like that. I’m Lady Constance Graham and this lout is Sir John Graham.’

  ‘Thank you, my lady. I’m Sir Edgar de Powburn and this is my elder brother, Sir Simon.’

  Constance smiled again whilst her husband continued to look surly.

  ‘Forgive me. I know that it’s none of my business, but both of you seem to be splattered with blood.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not ours,’ Simon explained, ‘it belongs to the knights whose heads are in that basket; two of them killed by your son, I might add.’ So saying he pointed to the pannier on one of the packhorses which was still dripping the odd spot of blood.

  ‘Good heavens. Do you normally go around killing knights willy nilly?’

  ‘Only when they attack us. I fear that Edgar has incurred the wrath of the Bishop of Durham. They were his men.’

  John Graham sighed. ‘I have a distinct feeling that this might prove to be a long tale, why don’t we go inside and you can explain what happened over a flagon of ale.’

  Simon need not have fretted over the horses as they were lodged in a barn for the night. The next day they departed for Coldingham, half a day’s ride away. Their numbers had increased again – to seven – as Alexander had joined them as a page.

  The Benedictine monks at the priory looked at them slightly askance. It was unusual to see two young men travelling with an escort of five boys. As the reason for the visit was for Edgar to make confession to the prior and do penance, the others stayed outside and sat on the grass. Then Simon had the idea of getting Patrick and Rollo to show off their weapon skills.

  Each put on a helmet and picked up a shield and a sword. As they were only fourteen, they looked a little silly, dwarfed as they were by their gear, but they set to with a will, trying to impress Simon and the young pages with their prowess. The swords were heavier than their smaller practice swords and the open-faced helmets kept sliding around and blocking one eye or the other. Nevertheless the two squires put on a credible show. Simon was suddenly conscious that some of the monks and the lay brothers had stopped what they were do
ing to come and watch.

  Suddenly a monk ran out shouting at them and flapping his arms like a swan trying to get airborne. Simon gathered from what the monks were muttering as they dispersed back to their various tasks that he was the sub-prior. He started to conceive a dislike for the species, though he knew that he was being unfair. The two boys were resting on their swords, their chests heaving, so he called a halt to the practice and praised both boys for their skill and stamina.

  A short while later Edgar walked out the gate, a broad smile on his face.

  ‘I gather that the prior heard your confession. What penance did he impose?’

  ‘I must write to both the Abbot of Durham and the Prior of Lindisfarne to explain why I abducted the sub-prior.’

  ‘That’s it?’

  ‘That’s it. He understood why I felt that I had to do what I did and, whilst he seemed to sympathise with sodomy between adults, an unusual attitude for a churchman, he felt quite strongly that the forced rape of young boys was an unpardonable offence against God and mankind. He was kind enough to say that he would also be writing to both the Bishop and the Abbot of Durham.’

  ~#~

  A few weeks later a messenger arrived with a package for the Bishop of Durham. The letter that accompanied it was brief and to the point:

  ‘If you ever think of sending more men to kill me, they will meet the same fate. Furthermore, when the Black Douglas next comes to call on you he may not be so willing to accept a bribe to leave you and yours alone. Perhaps I will come with him and add your own head, and that of the abbot, to these four.’

  The letter was unsigned and unsealed.

  In August 1321 Simon became a father again, this time to a baby girl, and Edgar wed Catriona. In October of that year her father died and Edgar became lord of the manor of Ayton. Catriona told him after the funeral that she was pregnant.

  By then King Robert had received his reply from the Pope. He didn’t lift the interdict on Scotland, not that it mattered much as the Scottish clergy had ignored it for years, but he did urge Edward the Second to make peace with King Robert, thereby indicating that he accepted that Scotland was an independent nation. No doubt Pope John XXII was influenced by the promise that Robert had made in his personal letter to him that he would join a crusade against the Moslems just as soon as his kingdom was safe from the depredations of the English.