The Archer's Marines: The First Marines - Medieval fiction action story about Marines, naval warfare, and knights after King Richard's crusade in Syria, ... times (The Company of Archers Book 5)

by Martin Archer

  “He’ll never live it down,” Leslie roars as he slaps his leg in delight. He’s already heard the story three or four times and still can’t get enough of it.

  We are both still smiling and chuckling at the misfortunes of the Belgian mercenary captain, Robert Kerfuffle, when a messenger and his three guards ride in from London with a parchment from my brother. The winds and conditions in the Channel had been favorable and it had only taken them a little more than two weeks to reach us - and the news they bring is good news, very good news.

  Cornell is indeed dead of the battle at the River Tamar, George and my students are doing well, and William wants me to return to Cornwall as quickly as possible. He obviously wants to take our galleys and men to Cyprus. But he also wants to add Hathersage to our holdings as soon as it is taken. He thinks we’ll have a strong claim to it as “The Will of God,” but only if we have it very firmly in our possession.

  Our siege lines have been tight. The people in the castle probably don’t even know of their lord’s death. Well, it was Cornell’s idea to combine Hathersage and its manors with those of the Cornwall earldom and now it’s likely going to happen – for my brother and little George.

  Accordingly, before I return to Cornwall, William wants me to consider Leslie or one of the local gentry as a possible vassal to hold Hathersage for us. He wants it held under the conditions of vassalage he’s listed on his parchment message plus any more I think appropriate.

  It’s up to me to make the final decision. If I think Leslie is capable of holding the castle for us, and Leslie agrees to do so, I’m to write up a contract of vassalage and feoffment on one of the blank parchments in the pouch the messengers brought to me.

  I can tell William’s serious about this; he included a skin pouch full of ground charcoal for me to use as ink and some goose feathers I can sharpen to use for quills.

  If Leslie makes his mark on the contract I’m to preside over a commendation ceremony wherein Robert Leslie and his mercenaries offer their homage to William, Earl of Cornwall, and become his vassals - and, in return, Leslie and his heirs are granted the honour of holding the Hathersage fief and its lands.

  On the other hand, if I think Leslie’s not up to the task or he won’t make his mark on our terms, William wants me to stay here in Derbyshire until we can find someone else.

  I’m anxious to get back to George and the boys so it doesn’t take long for me to reach a decision - if we are to hold Hathersage the Leslies are our only possibility.

  After reading William’s parchment several times I invite Leslie and his son to sit with me to hear the latest news from Cornwall. Everyone is curious and the two Leslies have been anxiously hovering nearby ever since the messenger arrived and handed me his pouch. They quickly come over and join me under the wagon where I’m sitting to keep the rain from spoiling the ink on the parchment I’m reading.

  When they’re seated I give them a big smile and tell them that the rumor we heard last week is true - Cornell is dead. Then I begin casually and carefully inquiring about their possible interest in having the honour of holding Hathersage as vassals of the Earl of Cornwall.

  Their eyes light up at the thought, as I rather expected they would, and we begin discussing what the holding of Hathersage and its manors as William’s vassals would require of them. They are both very pleased and agree to everything I suggest. They should be. There’s nothing we want from the Hathersage fief that the Leslies can’t honourably provide.

  They’re absolutely enthusiastic. Having the honour of Hathersage and its manors is obviously beyond their wildest dreams; I think they would agree to almost anything. William and I certainly know the feeling.

  While the two Leslies sit and watch with growing excitement, I take a blank parchment out of the messenger’s pouch, sharpen up a goose feather with my one of my wrist daggers, and write up our contract. It’s a very detailed agreement so it takes up almost an entire page. And, of course, both father and son are very impressed that I know how to scribe.

  When I finish I read it to them. They like it right well as indeed they should. Then, while the two Leslies are running around in the rain to arrange the necessary ceremony, I sit under a wagon to stay dry and write a parchment to King Richard. The old dog I’d fed some bad cheese earlier this morning comes over and lays its head on my ankle.

  My message to the king is quite simple. It says that “The Will of God” relating to the Earldom of Cornwall and Hathersage castle and its manors has been determined in mortal combat, as he so wisely decreed. And God has spoken - Cornell is dead of an honorable wound and the king’s loyal vassal, William of Cornwall, now holds the earldom and Hathersage.

  I add, of course, the customary assurances that William and his heirs and vassals are deeply grateful to the king for his wisdom and will in all ways loyally serve him – the usual meaningless blather that means so much to those in the nobility who are full of themselves. I’ll either drop it off at Windsor on my way back to London or, better yet, send it to him by messenger.

  @@@@@

  The commendation ceremony for a feoffment is a very formal affair in front of witnesses as indeed it should be given its significance. Leslie assembles his men and their families as soon as the rain cloud we’re under passes over and the rain stops. Then he and his son and I stand on a wagon and his men and their families gather around and listen intently as Leslie loudly announces his homage and pledges his oath of fealty for himself and his heirs and the men of his company. They are now, he announces, vassals of William, the Earl of Cornwall, and William’s heirs.

  Immediately thereafter, as required by custom, I proclaim on behalf of William, Earl of Cornwall, that Robert Leslie and his heirs are granted the honour of holding Hathersage Castle and all its lands and manors so long as they meet their obligations to William and his heirs and to the king who William and his heirs owe their liege. The heir and next in line after William being, of course, his son and my nephew and student, young George.

  It is a stirring spectacle and it begins as soon as the rain stops coming down. Leslie, with his son and heir standing at his side, calls on his people to bear witness that he is accepting the Earl of Cornwall’s offer of the honour of the Fief of Hathersage and the stewardship of all its demesne lands and manors. He does so, Leslie announces, under the following conditions which I read aloud from atop the wagon where the three of us are standing.

  I read the conditions out quite loudly so Leslie’s people can see us and hear us - and I read them from the parchment I’ve written on, the one on which all the people present will see Leslie and his son and heir make their marks immediately upon it being read out.

  After reading aloud each specific condition I turn to the Leslies to get their loud “ayes” and an emphatic nod of their heads, after each of which the assembled people give a great cheer of agreement. Can we really do this? I don’t know. But it certainly sounds good.

  “Robert Leslie and his heirs agree to pay without delay all of the taxes the king levies on the fief of Hathersage and without delay answer the Earl of Cornwall’s levy for some or all of his men of military age.” … “Aye.” Great cheers.

  “Robert Leslie and his heirs agree that each year they will deliver to the Earl of Cornwall at Restormel Castle three young brood mares and either four additional journeymen archers possessing admirable longbows or eight able bodied young men with strong arms to be apprentice longbow archers.” .. “Aye.” More great cheers.

  If some of the apprentices are young enough and lively enough they’ll become my students and learn their sums and letters; there’s no need to explain that to the Leslies today but I certainly will in the future. I think they’ll like sending us some lively boys instead of only strong young men.

  “Robert Leslie and his heirs agree that each year they will require all men living on their honour of Hathersage to possess and know how to use a longbow and to each month hold an archery tournament open to all men with a prize of a silve
r coin for the best longbow archer and penalties for those of his men who do not qualify.” … “Aye.” More great cheers.

  Leslie’s men obviously like the idea of a monthly tournament with prizes; it gives them an opportunity to win extra coins. What they apparently don’t yet realize is that they’ll now have to make longbows for themselves. Yew wood is best but properly selected elm will do.

  “Robert Leslie and his heirs agree to continue and respect the rights and offices of all churls, franklins, merchants, and gentry on the lands they hold for the Earl of Cornwall, to free all villeins, slaves, and other serfs to be churls or better, and to exact no retribution or loss of office or home on any person for their losses suffered in the taking of Hathersage and its lands.” … “Aye.” More great cheers.

  “Robert Leslie and his heirs agree that the widows and children of Lord Cornell’s dead and injured knights and other retainers are to be provided with customary dower housing and food if they pledge their liege to Leslie.” … “Aye.” More great cheers.

  “Robert Leslie and his heirs agree that all orders, requests, appointments, and suggestions of the church and its priests shall be received through the Earl of Cornwall to insure they conform to the wishes of the Pope.” … “Aye.” More great cheers. Good. I’m glad William thought of it. There will be no burnings and tortures for the church except as William requires.

  And, of course, there are various additional conditions to which Leslie and his son have also agreed but I do not announce. Chief among them: If Lord Baldwin’s widow Isabel is discovered she is to be immediately executed as a murderess most foul; if Cornell leaves a wife or children they are to be free and given the honour of one of Hathersage’s manors if they will pledge their liege to the Leslies. Another is that the Leslies will immediately start their people building permanent new hovels and return the existing hovels to their owners in good condition with all their personal goods intact.

  Actually, there is not enough housing in the village and some of Leslie’s people have already started building hovels for themselves; this morning I saw some of the women weaving the wattle that will be daubed with mud and sheep shite to form the walls of their new hovels.

  @@@@@

  After the feoffment ceremony there is as great a feast as the Leslies can organize with the roasting of sheep and much drinking and merriment and games of dice and dancing. I’m sure the watchers in the castle are perplexed and worried when they see it from the ramparts. Well of course they are; wouldn’t you be concerned if your enemies begin rejoicing?

  The next morning Leslie’s men pull back from their positions around the castle - and I put on my bishop’s robes and miter and walk towards the castle drawbridge with a cross in one hand and my crosier in the other. One of Leslie’s men walks ahead of me making loud noises from some sort of horn and another man walks next to him waving a strip of dirty linen tied to a stick.

  Leslie’s men pull up and stop just out of crossbow range; I keep walking with my cross held high until I reach the raised drawbridge. The men on the battlements of the castle and its gate house obviously see me; they are pointing and more and more faces are appearing at the archer slits to see what the commotion is all about.

  I’m wearing chain mail under my robes but I have no illusions about it stopping an iron crossbow quarrel; all I can do if they launch is hope they miss and run like the devil is on my heels.

  After some minutes of standing at the edge of the moat the small side door in the great castle gate opens and a very elderly knight clanks out in full armor. The battlements are absolutely full of people.

  “Who are you priest and what do you want?”

  “I am Thomas, Bishop of the diocese of Cornwall, and I bring news of Lord Cornell and the Will of God and King Richard.”

  @@@@@

  I’m leaving Derbyshire with Roger and most of my men. Hathersage’s drawbridges are still up and its battlements manned but a truce is in effect; food is being allowed into the castle, the castle has been informed of the terms under which Robert Leslie will replace Lord Cornell, and three horsemen have been allowed to leave the castle unmolested to ascertain Cornell’s fate. It is understood that there will be no more fighting if they return and report that he is indeed dead.

  Most of my men and I leave for London in horse drawn wagons with two of the men on horses as outriders. Only Joseph and four of our men stay behind. They’ll carry the word to Cornwall when Leslie takes possession of the castle in William’s name.

  There is no sense of anxious hurry as we move down the road and we meet very few travelers coming towards us. Word has obviously spread about the siege and travelers are going out of their way to avoid traveling on the cart path running past Hathersage. They don’t want to become involved and rightly so. The result is convenient - we pretty much have the road to ourselves.

  At night the men cook around the camp fires and sleep in the wagons or under them. Roger and I share a sheepskin tent. Having our own tent is nicer and safer because the sleeping rooms at the village inns and taverns that we reach every six or seven miles are inevitably dirty and dangerous. You never know who you’ll end up in bed with.

  On the other hand, the local ale is uncommonly good and traveling is thirsty work and there is always sheep shite in the water to make it taste poorly - so we inevitably stop at each inn we reach and everyone crowds in to sample its ale. At each village we reach I give Roger a few small coins so our men can sample the local ale; they did well and they deserve it.

  We have a rather uneventful trip for the first few days even though the spring weather is foul. It rains periodically and it seems as if one or another of our wagons and horses is continually breaking down or getting stuck in the mud. On the other hand, we don’t meet many travelers coming the other way to block our progress.

  Word is out about the siege and possibility of fighting at Hathersage Castle – that’s for certain because it’s always the first thing we’re asked about by the people we meet in the taverns and on the road. And, as you might imagine, we sleep safely and soundly; fifty or so heavily armed men are not about to be troubled by the outlaw bands, minor barons, and toll collectors who infest the roads – and are often one and the same.

  We don’t meet many travelers until we reach the old Roman road that is still the main road between Chester and London. It’s a much more improved track to travel on but we don’t make better time because traffic picks up in both directions. What particularly slows us down frequently getting stuck behind slow moving travelers or having to pull over to let fast movers get past us.

  The heavy traffic on the narrow old road slows us down so much that once the sun comes out the next morning I take to riding on the first wagon wearing my miter and waving my crosier at people to move them aside. Mostly they do.

  It takes us almost a week to reach London.

  @@@@@

  London is its usual wet and foul self and the sky is growing dark by the time our wagons reach the stable near the dock. Freddy the stable master is not in the stable but his ostlers inform me that one of our galleys is anchored a ways off the dock with a couple of our recruiting sergeants and the archers and apprentice archers they’ve brought in.

  It doesn’t take long for me to offer one of the ostlers a copper if he’ll send a boatman to row out to the galley and inform its sergeant captain that we’ve returned to London and to please come meet us in the White Horse tavern at the north end of the dock. That’s where I’m planning to go to take everyone for a drink to help us recover from our long but not all that uncomfortable trip from Hathersage.

  We’re in the White Horse about an hour later when the door opens and in comes one of our galley captains. He spots us through the smoke and walks over with a smile on his face. It’s Henry, the forester churl from Norwich and one of our very strongest archers.

  Henry Forrester came back to shore with the boatman. His galley, he reports, is just now being rowed up to the dock and will be there within
the hour. We can board whenever we want.

  “But no need to hurry. We can’t leave until it gets light tomorrow and the morning fog lifts.”

  Henry is more than a little pleased to pull up a stool and join us for a mug of the new juniper-flavored drink we’re enjoying and hear the latest news.

  This is Henry’s first time in London and his first visit to the White Bull. He only arrived a few days ago with our messenger and has been doing his drinking with his pilot at the ale house at the other end of the dock.

  Henry Forester may not be as smart as Henry from Colchester who is in charge of all of our Marines but he’s a damn fine archer and galley captain.

  Henry roars with laughter at my tale of the Belgian mercenaries and laments not being with us when he hears about them. This is the second time he’s missed out on all the fun – not having been there to participate in gulling the mercenaries at Sarum and not being at the mouth of the Tamar during William’s skirmish at the river ford when Cornell was killed.

  … “And yes, thank you,” Henry tells the tavern keeper who comes over with an expectant look on his face when he sees Henry down his mug with a great sigh of pleasure.

  “I wouldn’t mind having another mug of your fine brew. How do you brew it, pray tell? I can’t say that I’ve ever smelled or tasted anything like it before.”

  Our host smiles and says something about his wife’s secret recipe for juniper berries as he picks up Henry’s mug and a couple of others and takes them off to refill. Then we settle down in the fireplace smoke to tell more stories.

  Before the interruption I’d just started telling everyone about the first time Peter and I brought some of our archer sergeants and men here so they could get horses and ride out to the shires and recruit more archers. According to Peter, more of them get on backwards or fall off every time I tell it.

  “Henry, did you ever hear about what happened when some of our archers got on horses for the first time? Right around the corner it was.”