by Griff Hosker
“My lord, you do not know that it is your brother. It may be but let us use our heads. We will put our dead on the horses and ride to London. We will be there after the watch has been set and will need to ride further east and approach the castle from that direction.”
He seemed to calm himself. “Your archers did well.” It was as close as he would come to an apology!
One of his knights, Sir Robert, pointed to a dead man and said, “I know this knight. I met him in Rouen six months since. He is Sir Godfrey de Waller.”
“De Waller!”
“You know him, Earl?”
“No, Duke, but I know the family. Guillaume de Waller was a treacherous snake whom I met in the Holy Land. This is another connection with Outremer and further proof of the danger we face. They have scoured the cess pits of Outremer to gather the worst of knights and their men. I pray that we are in time.”
Tomas found more evidence of Templar involvement. Two of the men at arms had been Templar sergeants. All had coins about them. Most were from France but there were German coins too. This was a complicated conspiracy. I mounted the war horse from the knight which belonged to the last knight Ralph had killed. We headed for London. Had we reached there before the watch was set then we might have crossed London Bridge and entered through the city. As it was we would need to ride to Sudweca. There we would be able to gather intelligence about the city and by heading further east we might be able to take a boat to take us to the Tower.
South of the river was a dangerous area at the best of times but in these uncertain times it was even more so. Where we had once been a strong retinue of armed warriors we were now a handful of battered men most of whom rode poor horses. As we neared Sudweca I discussed with the Duke our plans. I say our plans but they were mine. I knew what we would have to do and I would not allow him to dissuade me. His last decision to bring knights instead of archers had almost proved fatal. Archers would have fared better in the dark.
“I will leave Ralph and my archers at the bridge. When Roger brings the rest of the men he can cross the bridge. We will head down the river a further half mile. There are ferries there and we will hire one.”
It seemed a simple idea and I could not see a flaw in the plan. Had I had scouts I could have sent ahead I might have known of the problems which awaited us. We rode east and north after the sun had set. There were few people about and that was worrying. When we neared the southern end of the old wooden bridge which spanned the river we halted. Something did not feel right. St. Mary Overley’s Priory lay close to the bridge and leaving our horses with our men Duke Richard and I went to the door. We banged upon it but no one came. I was loath to shout. I contemplated climbing the wall but realised it was too high. I needed my men! We banged again.
Next to me, Duke Richard began to fume, “I am a prince of the realm. What mean these monks to keep us waiting?”
“They know not who we are lord. We will try one more time.”
This time the banging brought a response, “Who is it? We are peaceful friars! Go away!”
The Duke was about to shout when I held up my hand and said, “I am Earl William of Stockton and I have with me Duke Richard of Aquitaine. I pray you open the gate for we come on the King’s business.”
I heard bolts sliding back and the door groaned open. Two friars stood there. “Come in quickly! It is not safe!”
Once inside the gate was barred again. “What is the meaning of this!” Duke Richard did not like being ordered about.
“Have you not heard the news, my lord? The city is taken and the Tower is cut off. Anarchy reigns!”
Duke Richard was visibly stunned. We had expected trouble but not on this scale. I asked, “When did this happen?”
“Two or three days since. Certainly, the gates were barred two days ago.”
“Who holds the Tower and who holds the city?”
“Your father holds the Tower but some say he was wounded and the defence is in the hands of his grandson Sir Samuel. As for the city that is under the control of a band of knights. They are led by a crusader. He wears the white surcoat with a red cross.”
Just then the abbot came out. He looked terrified, “My lord I beg that you forgive us. We knew not what the Augustine friars were up to.”
I shook my head, “Abbot we know nothing of these events. We have travelled hard from France and only recently arrived in Southampton. What do you mean? Speak plainly.”
“The Abbot of the Augustine Friars, Abbot D’Oilli, let the knights in through the Moorgate. Many of the garrison of the castle were killed.”
Were we too late? “Listen to me. I have more men arriving and we will go to the aid of my father. We need a boat to cross the river.”
He nodded, “There is an inn on the north side of the river. It is called the Falconer’s Glove. The innkeeper is a loyal man. He is Welsh. His name is Rhodri. His brewhouse is just down the river and when the city fell he fled with his family. He is staying in the brewhouse. He has a boat.”
“Thank you, abbot. Keep your doors barred. I fear it will take steel and blood to retake the city.” Once outside we rejoined our men. “There has been a change of plan. The city has fallen. We will go to the brewhouse down the river. Ralph you and Tomas will wait there with the horses. When dawn breaks secrete yourselves by the bridge and await our men.”
“Aye lord.”
Our noses led us to the brewhouse. It lay next to a wharf and I saw the wherry tied up. I was tempted just to take it but something made me trust the Abbot’s words. If he said we could trust this innkeeper then so would I. This time our knocking brought an immediate response. When Rhodri appeared, he was wearing a round helmet and held a sword. He was ready to fight us. It was dark and there was no way that he would have recognised us. “Who are you? I want nothing to do with rebels!”
I smiled, “Then that is music to my ears. I am Earl William of Stockton and this is Duke Richard of Aquitaine. We would have you ferry us to the Tower and then give shelter to two of our men.”
He sheathed his sword, “Aye, lord and right willing I am but we must do it by night. If those murderers realise what I am doing then my family will not be safe.”
“The two men I am leaving with you are good warriors and we have more men arriving tomorrow.”
“Then let us go, lord. You can leave the horses in the brewhouse.”
As we peered across the river I saw, close to the gates the embers of a fire and I could smell smoke. Were we in time or had we come too late?
The wherry accommodated us comfortably and we rowed across for the wind was against us. That would help Rhodri when he returned. “We will have to head upstream first.” He pointed to two blackened stumps. “They tried to attack the castle with two ships. The men on the walls fought hard. The ships were burned. Once we have passed them, then we can use the current.” He headed for the wharf which lay close to the walls. There was a postern gate there. It was called the river gate.
“I will have to leave quickly, lord, will you be able to enter?”
Duke Richard said, “If not then heads will roll!”
I knew that we had been seen as we approached as I detected movement. I leapt on to the wharf. Sir James grabbed the rope and held the wherry against the wharf. I called up, “It is the Earl of Stockton and Duke Richard. Admit us!”
A head appeared through the crenulations. There was a fresh scar across one cheek.
“Aye lord. And we are right glad to see you!”
I breathed a sigh of relief. It was John of Oxbridge!
Samuel
Part Three
The Legacy of the Earl Marshal
Chapter 11
London
As we helped my grandfather into the Tower I wondered at the disaster which had just struck us. Not only had Sir Harold and his squire died so had Richard’s squire, his brother Walter. How could things have gone so badly and so quickly? The abbot was a conspirator; that was clearly obvious. The guards at
the gate had guilt all over their faces as we passed through. Peter Longstride could not meet my angry gaze. They had not done their duty. My grandfather was a dead weight and had Thomas not helped me then I would have struggled to bear him. There were many questions to be asked but now was not the time.
“John of Oxbridge, fetch inside all of the horses and bodies. None enter without I give permission. Until the Earl Marshal is healed then I command.” I desperately wanted to arrest the abbot and bring him to the Tower for questioning but I did not have enough men.
“Aye lord, I am sorry. I do not know how those killers hid so close to the walls. Was it witchcraft?”
“No John; they were clever men. They outwitted the Warlord. One escaped but he shall not escape me. That I swear.”
The doctor came to my grandfather’s chamber. He examined him but could find no reason for his ailment. Then he felt the Warlord’s skull. “There is a wound here. Is it an old one?”
“He suffered one in the battle last year. Why? Could that be it?”
“Perhaps. I will send a man to watch him.”
“No!” I know that I sounded angry. I was but not with the healer. “He is my grandfather and I will sit with him until he wakes.”
After the doctor had gone I began to take off my grandfather’s mail. I took off the arming cap first and then the chausses. Finally, I removed the hauberk. I had done it when I had been a squire. I folded the mail. I doubted that he would wear it again. I would forbid it. I took off his padded gambeson. In his shift he looked so thin. I covered him with a fur and then went to fetch wine. I lifted his head and poured some into his mouth. He swallowed and I was relieved. I had begun to wonder if he was dead already. I went to fold the gambeson and a small jug fell from it on to the fur. I lifted it and, removing the stopper, sniffed it. This was medicine. Why was he taking it?
My squire, William, timidly entered the room, “Do you need anything, lord?”
I shook my head. “I will stay here until he wakes. Go around the sentries and make certain that they are alert. There is treachery about.” He nodded and handed me a platter of bread and cheese along with a jug of ale. “I could not eat, William, but I thank you.”
The night passed slowly. The walls and the gate were secure. We had food, water and beer. The Chancellor and his family as well as the other officials were within the walls of the castle. I was not sure that we had enough men to defend the walls but the White Tower was a different matter. We just had to hold one door. Even as the thought came into my head I felt my heart sink. Who would be coming? Sir James might be in France but the message my grandfather had sent had warned of danger and not the disaster this had become. I had to put myself in my grandfather’s position. What would he do it he was still able to command? D’Oilli was part of the conspiracy. He had lured us to his priory so that we could be ambushed as we left. We had been outnumbered by our attackers. Was that the full extent of our foes? Ranulf de Glanvill and the Earl of Essex both had manors close to the city and were loyal. My grandfather had said so. I would send a rider to summon them. Then I realised that sending a messenger might be the same as signing the man’s death warrant. Our three best men had been murdered. Who would I send?
It was dawn when my grandfather stirred. He gave me a wan smile, “My chamberlain once more.”
I held up the jug of medicine, “Grandfather what is this?”
He said nothing but took it from me, “Now tell me what has happened and omit nothing.”
I was not sure how much he remembered of the ambush and so I went through it all. I also told him what I planned to do. He smiled and patted my hand. Spying the bread and the ale he used my arm to pull himself up. “I am starving.” He swallowed down half of the beaker of ale and then tore a piece of bread. He smeared butter upon it and cut a healthy chunk of cheese. He chewed but he watched me while he did so. “I am guessing that this was for you and you were too worried about an old man to eat.”
I nodded, “Grandfather what is the medicine for and why did you fall over? There was no wound. The doctor is mystified.”
I saw him sigh. He wiped his hands on a napkin and then turned to face me, “Samuel, I am dying. Brother Peter gave me months to live. I have outlasted his prediction already. I thought I was dead until I opened my eyes and saw you. I have said goodbye to Stockton and I now have one last task to perform. I will save London for the King.”
“Save yourself! London does not matter! The King does not matter!”
“Listen to me, Samuel, you are wrong. The King is England and we are honour bound to save it and him. Your plan is a good one. We will send men on the morrow to summon help. Let the Abbot think I am dead. When we strike we will show no mercy.”
“Strike who? When? How?”
“There is a conspiracy here of Templars, border knights who have lost land and those who did not find what they sought in the Holy Land. There are family connections and I should have seen them. Now that I think back I recognised the Abbot as a d’Oilli. The city is in danger but we must hold this bastion first.”
“How can you think of others when you are dying?”
“We all die. Poor Harold is dead. Wulfric, Edward, my wife, Wulfstan, my father, the Empress, all have gone. I am the last and I am ready to meet my maker for I have done nothing of which I am ashamed. I would that your father was here but that is not meant to be. I have the next best thing, you. You must learn to be me. Your son Thomas will learn from you and then it will be as though I have never died. Now help me to my feet. I need to make water and then we must prepare our defences.”
“Defences?”
“You have good instincts, Samuel. There is a conspiracy afoot and we are perilously few in number. Let us assume that we will be attacked. If we are not then we have lost nothing. Always be ready for the worst. If the worst does not happen then you are better off!”
My grandfather seemed to have a new lease of life and yet I knew that it was an illusion. He was dying. I was watching the end of an era. I swore that I would not leave his side. The ale and the food seemed to have invigorated him. Or perhaps he was putting on an act for me. Sir Richard had been busy while I had watched my grandfather. He greeted us in the Great Hall, “Warlord, it is good to see you up and about. There is something going on in the city. The watch no longer controls the gate by St Peter’s.”
My grandfather nodded, “I need two volunteers.” He saw my face. “Samuel, learn a lesson here. Our men have sworn to fight for us. If we sit here and wait for the enemy to come then we will lose. We have too few men.
I saw Davy of Ingleby raise his hand as did Walter Wulfestun. “We will go Warlord. We will be careful for we have three dead friends we wish to avenge. What is it that you would have us do?”
“Ranulf de Glanvill and the Earl of Essex both have halls beyond the walls towards Westminster. I need you to fetch them here. We need help.” They nodded. I took out the map of the land around London and pointed out where they needed to go. They studied it. I watched my grandfather scribble something on a piece of parchment and then seal it with wax. “How will you do it? By horse?”
“No lord, that would mark us too quickly. We will pretend that we desert and head for an inn in the town. The Falconer’s Glove lies just within the walls and on the river. We will drink and complain that the Warlord is not the man he was and that we wish to return north to Stockton.”
I was shocked but my grandfather appeared delighted, “You are the best of fellows, that might work.” He handed them a purse. “This has silver coins. Gold would draw attention to you but this might grease your way through this web of deceit. Tell the lords to approach from the north and not through the city. I fear the abbot is but the tip of this conspiracy.”
As they prepared to leave my grandfather showed that he while he might be ill, dying perhaps, but he had not lost his mind. John of Oxbridge, Samuel, Sir Richard, have our archers send arrows after them as they flee. Let us aid their story.”
I felt humbled by the two men at arms. They had seen the butchered bodies of their compatriots and yet they were willing to do this for my grandfather. Would I ever be able to enjoy such loyalty? The rest of our handful of archers and men at arms played their part superbly. As the two slipped out of the postern gate and hurtled down the ditch they shouted and jeered. Davy of Ingleby turned and raised his fist. And then they were through the open gate and into the city. Ominously no one tried to stop them. Where was the town watch?
When they had gone my grandfather turned to Richard, “And now we bury your father and your brother. They were brave men and they should be buried in Hartburn but that cannot be.” He turned to Harry, “Have Sir Harold’s body and that of his son and squire brought here. We will bury them on this mound.” The mound he spoke of was in the inner ward and protected by both the Tower and the inner wall. They would lie undisturbed.
Two priests came out with the bodies and, leaving the garrison to guard the walls, the archers and men at arms of Stockton came to say farewell to Sir Harold. The priest spoke the Latin and my grandfather’s first squire was laid in the ground with his sword and his shield. My grandfather waited until the soil had been placed above the body and the priests had left. None save the knights and squires had understood the Latin. My grandfather would say the words which we would remember.
“Harold you came to me as little more than a boy. You began life as an outlaw and ended it as the mentor to a King. Your journey was truly wondrous. You were the most loyal and brave of men. Your blood and your spirit will be in Richard your son but I miss the man that you were. There are shield brothers and there are friends. You were both.” He knelt and said quietly, so that I could barely hear him, “Wait but a little while and I will join you.” He stood and raised his sword. We all did the same, “Sir Harold of Hartburn! A true warrior! We honour you in death! Sir Harold!” We all roared his name. The words seemed to echo around the castle. Birds took flight and I saw the sentries on the walls watching us. “Thank you, my friends. Now we go back to the walls but we will not forget our shield brother.” When they had all gone he turned to Sir Richard, “You can do this?”