King in Waiting

by Griff Hosker

  We left before dawn and we rode hard. We reached Gloucester by sunset. We had covered almost forty miles in one day. Sir John was eager for news and I dined with him. I knew that Lord Edward trusted him implicitly and so I was candid. He too had news, which helped me. “We have heard that young Simon has raised the siege of Pevensey and is heading west to help his father.”

  I nodded. “That helps but a little, for I believe that Pevensey is more than 150 miles from here. There are many routes he could take. He could come due west to Bricstow, north-west to Oxford or even due north to Northampton and the Midlands.”

  Sir John was sympathetic and he was also a clever man. “The middle road is to Oxford. If he has a large army then you should hear of it on that road. My suggestion would be to go to Oxford, for that is loyal to the king.” He shrugged. “It is a starting point!”

  He was right, and it made sense. We knew the town and it was loyal. More importantly, it was the junction of many roads. Travellers were the best of spies, for they were invisible and always willing to talk.

  We took four of the horses we had captured as spares and Peter led them. We reached Oxford two days later, and I used the inn where I had buried my gold. We were greeted like old friends, for we wore Lord Edward’s livery and had paid well each time we had stayed there. The landlord was also a mine of information. He added to our knowledge of young Simon de Montfort, telling us that he was in London gathering an army. The fact he was to the east of us was good news. While we could be in London in two days of hard riding, even if he headed for Oxford then it would take at least four days for an army of knights to reach us. I sent Mark the Bowyer back to Sir John with the news.

  After he had gone Peter asked, “Do we just wait, Captain, or do we head for London?”

  I shook my head. “Heading for London would be the worst thing we could do. Here we are amongst loyal men. London is filled with rebels. In addition, he could head north to the Midlands or south to the coast. He could take ships and land an army close to Bricstow. We wait and we keep our ears open.”

  I used the time to walk the streets and talk to merchants. They heard much. Sometimes it was rumour and sometimes it was fact. Two days later I had my first solid lead. Simon de Montfort was leading an army to Winchester, which was a stronghold of the king; he was trying to draw Lord Edward away from his father. It was time for us to move. Mark had rejoined us, and so I sent William of Matlac back to tell Sir John of this new direction. “Tell him that we will close with Winchester and trail his army. You are to return here to the inn and I will send for you.”

  We headed for Winchester, which we knew was a loyal city with a strong wall around it. Once the capital of England, the burghers there would defend the town. We reached it shortly after St. Swithin’s Day. The city had fallen. Refugees who had fled told of churches and property being destroyed and Jews being whipped and hanged.

  We were less than two miles from the city and I had a dilemma. Did we camp close by and see which way this army went, or did we head back to the centrality of Oxford? We were south of King’s Worthy on the crossroads there. We had watered our horses and I was debating whether or not to ride the last mile to Winchester when, from the west, we heard the sound of hooves. Hooves meant armed men, and I quickly strung my bow and shouted, “Stand to!”

  The horsemen saw us as we saw them. I recognised the livery: they were the men of Hugh le Despencer, except that this time, they were led by a knight and a squire. There were twenty of them.

  I nocked a bodkin and loosed it at the knight. He was quick-witted and his shield came up. His squire was slow, and the bodkin sent by Tom pierced his shoulder. John and Jack sent their arrows into the air while the others used a flat trajectory.

  “Peter, ride north! We will follow!”

  The combination of plunging arrows and flatter arrows had an effect, and three men at arms were hit. I sent another arrow at the knight and then shouted, “Mount! We have done enough. Head north!”

  My last bodkin caught the knight on the helmet. The ringing must have deafened him, but it also made his horse rear. The wounded squire fell from his saddle and I mounted Eleanor. I slung my bow and drew my sword. The men at arms were trying to get to the side of their lord but milling horses and wounded men impeded them. The squire’s horse was dragging the wounded youth to and fro, for his boot was caught in the stirrup. I rode at the knight. He must have been disorientated or else inexperienced: he allowed his shield to drop. It was not much, but it gave me a chance. Standing in my stirrups I brought my sword across and swung at his shoulder. His full-face helmet did not help his judgement, and although his sword came towards me, my sword hit him hard before his had a chance. I broke a couple of links, but I also hit him so hard as to knock him from his saddle.

  “Captain!”

  Sheathing my sword, I wheeled and headed up the road. John of Nottingham was in his saddle with an arrow nocked. It came towards me! It was not aimed at me, but at the man at arms who was leaning forward with his spear to skewer me. The arrow passed within a handspan of my face, and then I heard it strike the mail of the man at arms. He tumbled from his saddle. His horse kept galloping, and as it passed me, I grabbed the reins. We soon caught up with the others outside the church at King’s Worthy. They were waiting with nocked arrows. I reined in.

  John of Nottingham shook his head. “One day, Captain, I will not be there to save you!”

  I nodded. “I owe you a life, John.”

  “I am still in your debt, Captain, but I am not anxious to pay it.” I saw him cock his head. “The hooves are receding. They are not following us.”

  I worked out that the horsemen were taking the news of the sea battle and the flight of the Earl of Leicester to the rebels. They were messengers, and the news they delivered was more important than a handful of archers, although they would remember us. This changed everything. The south coast would be of little importance to the son of the Earl of Leicester now.

  “We will head back to Oxford. Geoffrey, you will ride to Sir John and tell him our news.”

  We could not do the journey in a day and so we camped in woods. Any army heading north would take longer than we had.

  William of Matlac was back in Oxford and he had news for us when we arrived. “Sir John said that the Earl of Leicester is at Hereford. He has reinforced it. The lords who support him in the west are gathering to his banner. Lord Edward is at Worcester. Sir John said that our master is pleased with our work.”

  “And now it becomes interesting. His father is in Hereford, and so heading to Bricstow does him no good, for we hold Gloucester. Young de Montfort needs to get to Hereford or the Severn at the very least. He will try to join up with his father. Jack of Lincoln, take Robin of Barnsley and Lewis Left Alone. Find us a camp north of Oxford. I want to be able to watch the roads north, east and west.”

  They left and we waited. They returned after dark. “We have found somewhere from which we can watch the roads north and east, and the best road west leads from Oxford, for there is the Thames to cross. We can be on the road to Lord Edward quickly if they reach us.”

  I nodded. “Then let us make the most of our time in this inn, for from now until we return to Lord Edward, we camp in the greenwood.” I turned to Lewis. “And I want you to ride to Gloucester. Take the news of what we have discovered. We will be here.”

  He grinned. “I will ride like the wind!"

  “Just ride carefully, eh?”

  Jack laughed. “Will Yew Tree made the right decision then, Captain. I know that he would not have enjoyed going without ale for so long!”

  For some reason, the thought that our old comrade was enjoying life in Easingwold and drinking beer to his heart’s content made us all happy.

  Travellers and refugees from Winchester arrived in Oxford two days later. They came the same time as Lewis. All of them brought news of an army heading up the road from Winchester.

  I was summoned to the home of the Mayor. He looked ner
vous. “Captain, we know that you are one of Lord Edward’s archers. There is an army coming from Winchester, and if they spy you here, then there will be a battle. We know of the great mischief these godless men caused in Winchester, and we intend to open our gates to them. We will not welcome them, for we are loyal, but we will not fight them.”

  “And you need us to be gone.”

  “Just so. We have food for you, and if you need silver…”

  I shook my head. “We will take the food, but we are paid by the future King of England. Keep your silver.”

  I did not blame the burghers. The tales from Winchester had been truly horrible. Those loyal to the king and his son were, by and large, at Worcester. I found myself in total agreement with Lord Edward; we needed a battle just so that we could have peace. The next battle would be the last.

  We rode directly north. Jack led us to the camp he had selected, and it was a good one. As we set up the camp, Lewis told me his news. “Lord Edward was in Gloucester, Captain. He is pleased with our work and asks that you send word when this rebel army is within a day’s march of Worcester.”

  That would be easier said than done. The enemy would have scouts out, and I had to assume that they were as good as us.

  “From now on when we ride, we each have a strung bow. We are well furnished with bowstrings.”

  Peter asked, “Captain, when will I need a bow?”

  John, who was the one responsible for the training of Peter, nodded. “Soon. I think that by September you can try the hunting bow.”

  It satisfied Peter. I know how he hated being the one who did not fight.

  “We will have to fight enemy scouts and keep ahead of the enemy. It will not be easy.”

  That evening I changed into my better clothes and headed for Oxford. I took Tom with me, but he would remain outside the city. We took our bows and our swords although I did not think that we would need either. I just wanted to discover, if I could, the direction the enemy would take.

  The roads were empty as we approached Oxford. The castle was at the northern end of the city, and that gate would be the best guarded. I saw that there were eight men at arms gathered around a brazier. Although It would weaken their night vision, it still meant we would be seen and would not be able to gain access to the town. The double gate was closed, but there was a small sally port which was open.

  There was an old ramshackle house – in all the time I had been coming to Oxford I had never seen anyone living in it. Only two walls remained, and most of the roof had fallen in. We secreted the horses there. “Tom, I shall head around to Westgate. It may not be as well guarded as this one.”

  “How will you pass the sentries, Captain?”

  “I shall simply walk in the shadows. If I make a noise, they may hear, but they are busy talking anyway. It is a chance I will have to take.”

  I was about to move when there was a shout from the gatehouse. “Ware the gate! Riders coming out.”

  The gates creaked open, and two lightly-armed horsemen came out, a sergeant at arms along with them. He had a voice like a bull and, even though I guessed that he was trying to speak quietly, we heard him, despite being 200 paces away. Some words we missed, but we gathered the salient points. The two men were to ride to Northampton and order the muster of as many barons and knights as possible.

  We had our answer. The rebels were heading north and east. I had no need to enter Oxford. The two riders took the northern road. Our camp was also on the northern road. I toyed with the idea of chasing after the two men and preventing their news getting through, then I realised that we would be better off by simply getting to Northampton and waiting there.

  We broke camp before dawn and headed the forty-three miles to Northampton. As we rode, it struck me that I had criss-crossed this part of England so many times I should have known every blade of grass and leaf. As we neared the rebel city I thought that, as they would have to march west if they were to help Simon’s father, Upton was a good place to intercept them. I knew that we would be ahead of the enemy army and so, when we reached Upton, we hid out in a wood just 400 paces from the west road. John of Nottingham changed into ordinary clothes and, leaving our bows at the camp, we rode into Northampton. By being in the city when Simon de Montfort the younger arrived, we would not arouse suspicion. We left Jack in charge. The wood was his domain still.

  We had coins, which we had taken from the men at arms we had killed near Newport. I intended to use that silver to pay for a good room at an inn close to the castle. It was all part of our disguise. We arrived in the morning, and before we went to the inn, we visited a barber. The town had a surgeon-barber, and I decided to have my beard shaved. I had been seen with the beard by the men at arms and I wanted to change my appearance. I also had the barber trim my unruly locks, and he noticed the scar on my face as he shaved me. It was now a red line that would fade, eventually, to white.

  “I can see that you have had trouble already in your life, young sir.”

  I nodded, affably. “It seems to me that there are few men in this realm who have a trouble-free life, my friend.”

  “Wise words from one so young. When I began to shave you, I took you for a much older man. Why now that your hair is trimmed and your beard removed, you look unrecognisable.”

  I laughed and, standing, paid him. It was what I wanted to hear. The visit had cost me as much as a night in an inn, but if it disguised me, then it was worth it. With my courser and best clothes, I now looked like a young gentleman. The silver I used to pay for the room, without an attempt to haggle, confirmed this, and I knew that, in the inn at least, we would not have aroused any suspicion.

  We ate in the inn and then walked around the town in the afternoon. I made purchases, which added to the impression that I was a well-off young man with money to waste. It was only in the room we shared that I could be myself.

  John of Nottingham smiled as he breathed a sigh of relief. “You know, Captain, you could be a mummer. That was as fine a piece of acting as I have seen at any Easter play!”

  “I am aware of the mistakes I made in the inn in Gloucester. That will not happen again. Tonight, we will talk as much as any and keep our ears open.”

  “A fine trick, if you can manage it.”

  “We must, for here we are two days from Worcester. Simon de Montfort is less than half a day from the Severn. If the two Simons join their armies then Lord Edward is in trouble. We have endured a great deal to get this close to victory. Let us not throw it away recklessly.”

  When we dined that evening in the tavern there were no soldiers, just merchants and men from Northampton. That is not to say we did not learn much to our advantage. That young Simon de Montfort and his young knights were coming to the town was no secret, and it was common knowledge that he would join up with his father. As I listened, I knew that Northampton was too far away for young Simon to threaten Lord Edward but, equally, Lord Edward could not attack Northampton without risking Simon de Montfort escaping across the Severn. The crossings were watched, but Lord Edward would need all of his army if he was to defeat the de Montforts. Although I paid close attention to their words, I also spoke so that no suspicion was aroused. John and I agreed with the merchants and burghers.

  That night, safe in our room, we discussed what we had heard and the implications. “It seems to me, Captain, that they have spies too, and the Earl of Leicester must be sending messages to his son.”

  “We know that already, John. How does it help us? Where will they wait before they attack? It has to be somewhere within striking distance of the Severn, and it has to be west of here.” I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “At least this time we can give an accurate account of the men in this army. That will be a help.”

  “Aye, so long as we are not recognised. You have become famous in the last couple of years. I know that shaved face and trimmed hair help, but…”

  “I know John, I know.”

  The first elements of the army p
oured into the city from noon onwards. We joined the cheering crowds who greeted them. As they rode through the town I saw that they all bore white crosses upon their tunics. They had worn them at Lewes. Young Simon had a horse with horse armour, and he had a breastplate over his mail as well as poleyn on his legs. His helmet was a magnificent one – Lord Edward’s was more functional than the work of art which paraded before us. He received the cheers as a conquering hero, yet, in truth, all he had done thus far was to slaughter Jews and steal from churches.

  All afternoon his men rode through the town. There were more than 300 knights followed by their squires and men at arms. What I did not see were archers, nor were there any crossbowmen. To me, that was a weakness.

  When the baggage train entered the crowds filtered away, and we went to an inn close to the square in the centre of the town. Here, the mood was one of joy. Northampton supported the rebels. They were part of the people’s parliament created by the Earl of Leicester. Younger men shouted that they would get a horse and follow the army, to end the tyranny of King Henry. I knew they were fuelled by drink. There was little chance of Simon de Montfort ridding himself of the King of England. For a start, de Montfort was married to the sister of the King of England. He might wish to kill Lord Edward and then have King Henry abdicate in favour of him, but the king was safe.

  The next day, more knights and their retinues poured into the city. It was now getting on for the last week of July, and the army would need to move on soon.

  The landlord came to speak with us as we ate a late breakfast. “Gentlemen, how much longer will you be needing your rooms?”

  “Why landlord, do the extra men in town mean that you require them for better-paying guests?”

  He laughed. “Oh no, sir, you have paid well, and besides, the army moves out tomorrow morning. It is just that we normally change the bedding today, but if you are leaving soon, then…”

  “I can put your mind at rest then, innkeeper; we leave for York in the morning. But if the army leaves tomorrow, then we had better leave this night, for I am accustomed to good rooms, and if they get ahead of us, we may have to suffer poor accommodation.”