by Griff Hosker
Peter’s tiny voice came back, “Aye, Captain.”
My men did not need to answer, they just dismounted. Geoffrey of York did not dismount but looked down at me quizzically. “Do you see danger, Captain?”
“No sir, for when you see danger then it is too late. This way I have a strung bow and a nocked arrow. If I was a bandit then this is where I would hit us. We climb a slope and we are going so slowly that if we make seven miles this day, I will be surprised. The rocks make perfect places to hide. We will walk.”
He stayed in the saddle. I knew it was a mistake, for he made a good target.
I kept watching Tom ahead of us. He was a good scout and he sniffed the air. Bandits would smell differently from us. We had bathed two days before we left Easingwold – bandits would stink. The steep slope might help potential bandits, but as the wind came from the west then it would bring their smell to us.
We came to a flatter part of the pass and the road twisted to the right. It was the sort of place most men would relax, but I did not. I had a war arrow nocked and I was ready. I saw Tom turn and drop to one knee. He was improvising, and I knew that there was danger. His bow pointed to the slope on the right.
“Ware, right!”
We kept moving, but Tom’s warning had been enough for the carters to move to the left of their horses, as did my archers. I led Eleanor with my left hand and held my bow and arrow in my right.
The arrows, when they came, were sent from too far away. The bandits had height, but they had hunting bows and arrows – that saved the life of Geoffrey of York. Two arrows plunged down and struck him; they penetrated his tunic but not his leather byrnie. He dropped to the ground and drew his sword.
I had dropped Eleanor’s reins and I scanned the rocks. I saw a patch of white, some hundred and twenty paces from me. In one motion I drew and released. The arrow smacked into the head of the bandit. My arrow precipitated the response of my men. Tom, isolated ahead, ran back to us. The poor quality of both the archers and their weapons was shown when an arrow thudded into Tom’s saddle; it failed to stick and fell to the ground.
The bandits ran at us. There were more than thirty of them, although accurate numbers were hard to ascertain. I drew and released at the nearest man. The carters drew their swords. The horses pulling the wagons would not move for there was a slope once more, and they were grateful for the rest.
I struck a bandit in the shoulder – my war arrow was barbed. As he fell, writhing, he tried to pull the arrow from the wound but simply tore a large hole. I saw him slump to the ground. My men did not panic. Nock, draw, release! It was something they could do in their sleep. Each archer chose the nearest target. As the bandits were less than one hundred paces from us, we could not miss. Their arrows also fell on us, but the only hurt they caused was when they managed to hit a horse.
Half their number were hit, but still they came – and now they were so close that their clubs, axes and short swords could hurt both horses and the carters. We were the trained warriors. I dropped my bow and ran towards them, drawing my sword. I could have drawn my dagger, but I was a good swordsman and I had skill. I used it.
Simon the Carter was being attacked by two men. Geoffrey of York had been too concerned with watching the battle and failed to react. Simon blocked one blow from a short sword, but I saw the wood axe swinging at his unprotected side. The bandit was a big man and he took a mighty swing; that gave me the chance to cover the ground and, even as his axe was coming around, to deal a mortal blow. I brought my sword from on high and hacked through his arm. My sword was a good one. I took both his arms and then, as his companion looked on in horror, I swung my sword at his neck and hacked through to the bone. The handless man ran! I did not think he would survive. Perhaps he had been the leader, for the rest of the bandits fled, and my men sent arrows after them. We had been a juicy target but they would not repeat their mistake. Fewer than eleven escaped.
“Dispatch the wounded and take their weapons. If the other bandits hereabouts have no weapons then they cannot prey on others. Is anyone hurt?”
“Simon the Carter has an arrow in his leg.”
“See to him. Are you alright, sir?”
Geoffrey of York was visibly shaken. “I was too slow. You have earned your money this day – and then some.”
Simon came over to me and held out his hand. “And you, Captain, have saved my life. I am in your debt, whatever you need.”
“Just doing my job… and we all help each other, do we not?”
The wound to the carter was not serious and we soon pushed on. I thought that we had seen the last of bandits, certainly on this side of the high land, but we remained vigilant.
We camped as the sun was setting on the western side of the pass. It was not an ideal place, but there was water and we were sheltered. I set sentries and then checked the animals. Peter was giving them water and a handful of oats each.
“Captain, how did you manage to kill two men so quickly? Your hands moved so fast that I could barely see the blows.”
“I only killed one, although the second was hurt so badly that I doubt he will trouble any traveller again.” I stroked Eleanor. I had an old apple I had found in the apple store at Easingwold and I gave it to her. “If you are ever in a situation like that, Peter, then do not panic. Choose a target and a blow. Worry about the second man after the first is hurt.”
“How did you learn to fight?”
“By avoiding being killed. I was lucky in my first battles and I know it.” I ruffled the boy’s hair. “Do not worry, you will be much older when you have to fight – and I think the rest of the journey will be easier!”
I was proved right, although the journey was no quicker, for late summer rains hit us when we reached the Cheshire plain, and we were all grateful that we had good cloaks. Geoffrey of York fretted about the mail and plate for he feared it would rust. It was almost September by the time we rolled into Gloucester.
I had feared that the Earl of Gloucester might recognise us as Lord Edward’s archers, but he did not even bother to inspect his cargo; his steward did that. Geoffrey of York was paid, and we spent the night in a town where we slept in beds. While we were in the tavern we heard news about the rebel alliance. The Earl of Gloucester was at home because he had fallen out with de Montfort. Having led one of the battles, he felt he had deserved more from the Earl of Leicester and, when he had not received it, the unpredictable earl had left London. We also heard that Lord Edward and his cousin, Henry Almain, were now in Wallingford Castle. That was not far from Oxford. In the safety of a Gloucester inn, I drank too much and contemplated riding to Wallingford to make contact with Lord Edward. When I rose, the next morning, I realised how foolish that would have been.
We left and headed for Namentwihc, where we filled the wagons with cheese and salt. We had a wet and unpleasant journey back to Easingwold. When we reached the scene of the ambush there was no sign of the bodies. There must have been honour amongst the bandits, that they had taken the time to recover their dead. October was almost upon us when we finally reached Easingwold.
The journey had taken longer than Geoffrey of York had planned, and his wife’s time was almost come. “The sheepskins can wait until the new year, Captain. I would have you send a message to the merchant in Oxford to explain the delay and to take him the jet, for that is not a large cargo. You need to take just one sumpter to carry the small chests.”
“Me?”
He smiled. “I trust you and know that you will be able to make the journey safely while my steward, good man though he is, may fall foul of some enemy. You shall be paid.”
It struck me that this might be an opportunity to recover my chest from the inn. I agreed to go and went with Tom and David the Welshman. The ones I did not take were all disappointed, save Will Yew Tree, who could now spend each night in The Feathers!
Chapter 7
This time, we were able to ride the main roads for we wore better clothes and were not a co
mpany of archers. The three of us left our bows at home. I felt almost naked as we rode south, but I did not think we would need to use a bow, and the weapon marked our trade; this time we were riding in secret. We rode first to York and thence to Lincoln.
While the others saw to our horses and beds for the night, I sought an audience with the castellan. As I headed through the city, I saw that there were many armed men. The unrest in the country was manifesting itself as swords sought masters. I kept my hood up and hoped I would not be recognised. When I reached the castle I was kept waiting a little while, and when Sir Ralph arrived I saw why. He had been dining.
“I am sorry, my lord, I have but one night in Lincoln, and I thought to ask if there was word of Lord Edward.”
He smiled. “I mind not my dinner being disturbed for a loyal Englishman. The news is mixed, Captain. The rebels have allowed the barons from the west to return to their lands, and therein lies hope, for they can build up our forces. The Queen is in France and Sir John de Warenne in Poitou, but it will take time to gather enough men to challenge de Montfort.” I nodded, and his face became serious. “The de Braie family sent men to ask me what I knew of Sir Roger. I could honestly say that I had not seen him after he had left for the north. I will not ask you what happened, except to ask that it was done with honour.”
“A man died to prove that honour.” It was a simple and truthful statement. We had been ambushed and Stephen Green Feather died.
“Good. You say you go to Oxford?” I nodded. “Then take the back roads. The rebels seek Lord Edward’s archer.”
“There are just three of us, and we did not bring our bows. None would know us for archers. We work for a York merchant, and we have work until the new year. After that...”
“Say no more. Plans are afoot. Watch yourself, these are dangerous times. We will contact you again if we can. There are many spies and traitors!”
I left Lincoln with more hope than I had arrived with, but also apprehension. The de Braie family controlled the land around Huntingdon, de Montfort controlled Leicester and de Ferrers ruled Derbyshire. We would have to sneak through their lands, knowing that they were looking for us. I confided my fears to my men, and it was David the Welshman who came up with the solution. “Captain, we have to bring the wagons down when the lady is delivered of her child. Let us use this as an opportunity to scout out an easier passage south. Our master does not wish to pay the tolls that the men of de Montfort charge, so let us find a way which takes us south without touching their strongholds.”
It was a good plan, which I adopted. I quickly realised that our journey to Lincoln, useful though it was, had added thirty-five miles to the journey. If we had used the route further west then, although the road would not have been as flat, it would have been shorter.
We headed south and west to pick up the road through Nottingham. It was when we reached Nottingham, in the late afternoon, that I realised there was a line between the lands of de Montfort and de Ferrers that we could exploit. Nottingham was a royal city and controlled by a sherriff. The present incumbent was a political creature, and Phillip Marc appeared to tread a fine line between not offending the rebels and ensuring that when King Henry was returned as king he would not lose his position. More importantly, Nottingham had many archers, for the nearby forests seemed to produce good ones. Even if we had brought our bows we could have blended in. I now regretted not bringing John of Nottingham, who would have had contacts in the town.
If I had been recruiting archers then I could have had my choice. We spoke with many in the inn, which was close to the castle. Even without a bow, an archer would recognise the three of us by our broad shoulders and oak-knotted arms. We pretended to be ex-archers who were seeking other employment. If we had wished it, we would have had many opportunities for work.
We left the next morning and I decided to push on hard, for my visit to Lincoln had delayed us too long. “We will do this next part of the journey in two days. We have good animals, which are well rested, and we have managed, more by good luck than good management, to evade our enemies.”
I was tempting fate but, as events proved, that was the right course of action. We were travelling faster than other travellers, and it was Tom who spotted that we were being followed. He urged Bess next to Eleanor. “Captain, there are four men who follow us.”
I did not turn. “You are sure?”
“I was not, but now I am. I had a feeling that there was a man watching us in the inn last night, but it was crowded and I could not be certain. When we left the stable, I saw other horses there and, as we began to gallop, I heard hooves behind us. The others on the road walk. We are the only ones who gallop – and now there are horsemen following us.”
“Well done. We will watch for somewhere we can ambush them. They will not close with us for they could have done so before had they wished. They mean to take us. They will watch where we sleep and come in the night.”
David the Welshman said, “We should have brought our bows.”
I nodded. “Hindsight is always perfect, David, let us use the skills that God has given us. We can all use swords and we know the woods. More, we know that they follow us and that gives us an edge.”
This was not a Roman road and it had twists and turns while the ground rose and fell. In places, there were open fields next to the road while at other spots the trees and hedgerow were so close as to form walls. I knew what I was looking for. I needed a place where the road crossed a stream or a small river, where there were trees.
At noon we stopped in a village and used the water trough. We fed our horses oats and we ate our stale bread while they consumed them. Then, we quickly remounted and rode off.
It was the middle of the afternoon when I spied the place we would use. We had just passed Bretford, and the road began to drop and follow a bend of the Avon. There were willows that hung over the road, above the height of a wagon, and beneath them were scrubby blackberry bushes. Some still had fruit on them. As we turned the bend I said, “Dismount. Hide the horses and then secrete yourselves. Have your weapons ready.”
“There are four of them, Captain.”
“I know – and that is why I will put myself where they can see me, and I will distract them.”
As they led Eleanor away I took my dagger and hacked a willow branch, which was longer than me. I sharpened the end as I listened for the horses. I heard them galloping hard as they realised we were out of sight and that they had lost us. The four of them rode around the bend and, seeing me, reined in. I was leaning on the willow as though it was a staff. I took in the fact that their horses were lathered, which told me they were not as good as mounts as ours. The men were not archers, but one had the livery of de Ferrers. It was hidden by a cloak but, as he pulled back his horse to stop it, I had caught a flash of red and yellow. The other three looked like the sort of men we had captured close to Codnor: mercenaries.
“Friend, you have followed us from Nottingham. I do not like having a stiff neck. What is it you wish?” The four of them were fewer than five paces from me. They rode sumpters, so my head was level with their chests.
None wore helmets but the one with the tunic had a metal coif, which hung around his neck. He had the best sword of the four, and I saw his hand go to it. He smiled as he rested his hand upon his sword. “Where are your companions, Gerald War Bow?”
If he thought to surprise me with his words then he was mistaken, for I knew that we had been recognised as soon as I saw the red and yellow tunic. “You answer my question and I will answer yours.”
“You are in no position to bargain, archer, for I see you have no bow, and I can take any archer who bears just a sword. However, I will tell you why we seek you. Captain Henry Sharp Sword has offered a bounty for you. It is fortunate that it is dependent upon your being alive. If he would have had your body, then you and your companions would now be dead. We would have slit your throats last night.”
I knew then that we had been seen in L
incoln. Henry Sharp Sword had been our prisoner, but the battle of Lewes had reversed our positions. He was on the winning side. I nodded. “Then you may be disappointed, friend, for I will not go quietly. If you want this body then you must kill me.”
“Where are your friends?”
I had been buying time for the two of them to move around the rear of the four, and now I saw them. “Oh, they left me, for my horse was hurt. I have this staff to help me walk.” I turned as though to point with the staff down the road but in reality, it was to change my grip.
I turned and hurled the staff at the man at arms. It was only a willow, but the point was sharp and I was lucky: it struck the man in the eye. I drew my sword and ran at the other three. Tom and David also had their swords drawn. Tom leapt onto the back of one horse and drew his sword across the throat of the man who had been struggling to draw his own weapon. I swung my sword at the leg of the closest man and hacked through to the saddle; the horse reared and threw him. The last unwounded man looked from me to Tom and did not see David the Welshman. David’s sword came up under his ribs.
The man at arms drew his sword and slashed at my head. I sensed rather than saw the strike. Instinctively, my hand came up to block the blow. I saw blood pouring from the damaged orb: my lucky strike had cost him his eye. He slashed again at me and I easily blocked it. I grabbed his boot with my left hand as he raised his sword for another blow and I lifted his foot, stirrup and all. He raised his arm for balance and tumbled from his horse. The animal dragged him a few steps and I ran after him. He was conscious, but only just. I took his foot from the stirrup and removed his sword.
“The others?” I asked.
David spat. “They are dead, but do not waste tears on them, Captain, for they were killers all.” He held up a stiletto. It was the classic weapon of an assassin.
“Put their bodies in the ditch and collect their horses.” I gathered the horse of the man at arms.