by Griff Hosker
“I have already sent Sir Richard to give the new signals to the men on the west and north west walls. If we are breached then they will head for the north east tower. I have put ten archers on the top of this tower so that we can protect them.”
“And now we wait for our men to bring help.” In my heart I feared that they had met the same fate as the other three who had been butchered.
My grandfather smiled, “Let us hope that they have not met the same fate as the others eh? My main hope is with Sir James.”
“The seas twixt here and Anjou are wide and filled with danger.”
He sighed, “My life has ever been thus. When I fought alongside the Empress and her brother we rarely had enough men. We lurched from one crisis to another and yet we had stout hearts. Let us trust in the men I have trained and your father. He will not abandon us.”
Just then there was a faint call from the walls, “They come!” As we hurried from the halls we heard, “The north wall is under attack!” A horn sounded. The men I had left to work on the stakes would return to their posts.
“William fetch my shield and helmet. This will be hot work.” I looked at my grandfather as he rose. I would have told him to stay but I would have been wasting my breath.
We headed up the stairs to the top of the Tower. I was amazed that my grandfather could still manage that at his age. William caught up with us as we stepped out on to the fighting platform. I saw the ten archers there. They each had two quivers. The quivers held the two types of arrow that they would need. Atheling was in command. He was now grey but while he might not be as strong he had forgotten more about archery than most men knew. He nodded as we stepped into the light. We went to the north battlements. We had a fine view of our walls and the land which lay beyond it. The enemy were arrayed on the north side of the ditch. They must have known that we would be thinly stretched.
“Samuel, go and look at the city wall. I would know if they would try to attack on two sides at once.”
I nodded and, taking my helmet and shield from William, ran around to the fighting platform on the west side of the Tower. We now had archers at just five places: The Tower, the Water Gate, the north east tower, the south west bastion tower and the main gate. If there was just one threat we could draw archers from the other two. When I reached the west wall, I saw that they were using crossbows from inside the gate. We could not withdraw those archers. I went to the south wall. Although I was further away from John of Oxbridge and his men I could see them. A pair of small ships packed with men were rowing down the river from London Bridge. They were attacking from the river. They intended to divide our forces.
By the time I reached my grandfather the enemy attack had begun. They had ladders carried by men without mail. Surrounding them came men carry shields to protect them. There were crossbows waiting to advance behind the shields. Further back were men at arms and knights. They were beyond bow range.
“Well?”
“They are attacking at the Water Gate and the main gate.”
The Earl Marshal turned to Atheling, “It is up to you, my friend, to keep them at bay.”
“We will do our best Earl Marshal.”
“Come Samuel, let us join Sir Richard on the battlements.” He smiled, “I have not been idle. I have had spears and darts brought from the armoury.”
We entered the gloom of the tower and descended to the fighting platform on the north wall. Sir Richard had organised the twenty men we had at our disposal. It was not enough. My grandfather drew his sword. As a crossbow bolt slammed into the wall above his head he smiled and said, “William if you would be so good as to fetch me a shield. I should hate to be hit with a crossbow bolt. Poor Dick would turn in his grave.”
I sensed a movement to my left and I instinctively flicked up my shield. A bolt slammed into it. “Atheling! The crossbows!”
“Aye lord.” There was a pause, “Loose!” Our archers hated the men who used crossbows. They called them the devil’s machines. Although it would allow the men with the ladders to advance closer they began to thin the men with the crossbows. An archer could send arrows many times faster than a man with a crossbow and the crossbow men fell. The men with the ladders were at the bottom of the ditch by the time the crossbows fell silent. William brought back the shield.
“Come, there are darts by the walls. They are not as good as arrows but they will have to do.” The armoury in the Tower had many types of weapons and Sir Richard had found these steel tipped darts. I had never used one but I knew that they were effective when thrown from a wall. I laid down my shield and picked up four of them. Atheling and his archers had now begun to hit the men carrying the ladders. The steep ditch made it hard to keep in close formation. I pulled back my arm and threw a dart. It might have been luck or perhaps my aim was guided by God. I know not but my dart pinned a hand to the ladder. The man shouted and used his other hand to pull away the dart. The front of the ladder dipped and I threw a second dart. Others were hurling their darts too. The men carrying the ladders were forced to wait until the men with the shields could give them shelter.
I had two darts left and the men were now at the bottom of the wall. I threw a dart at the foot of one of the men with a shield. I hit him and he fell backwards. I saw an upturned face and I hurled my last dart at it. It entered the man’s eye and he dropped the ladder to pull the offending missile out. The same story was repeated all the way down the line. Even so we were so few that they were like pinpricks. Even worse they were now hidden from the men on the Tower who sent their arrows towards the knights and men at arms who began to advance.
I picked up my shield and drew my sword. My grandfather smiled, “Let us see what an old wolf and a young cub can do.”
I heard the first of the ladders as it slammed against the wall. I would stay with my grandfather. Sir Richard, Harry and William went to a point half way along. The four archers at the north east tower had a clear line of sight and their arrows were picking off the men with the ladders closest to them. It would be in the centre where we were in the greatest danger and my grandfather and I held that spot.
Two of the Tower’s garrison stood with us. Neither wore mail but they held spears. They would be of more use than our swords. Holding mu shield before me I peered over the crenulations. We needed stones here. That was my oversight and I cursed myself. I had been so pleased that I had thought of a way to stop ships landing that I had forgotten an attack over the walls.
My grandfather had fought in more sieges than I had. He said to the two men, quietly, “Wait until the first man at arms is almost at the top. Attack from both sides at once. He can only protect from one shield.”
I saw that there were six men already on the ladder. It bowed and creaked for the men climbing wore mail.
“Patience. Make a good clean strike at the same time.”
I could see that the man at arms who was climbing had to hold on to the ladder with his sword arm. His shield was held over his kettle helmet. I watched my grandfather’s face as he gauged the moment to perfection. The man was almost at the top when the Earl Marshal shouted, “Now!” The shout made the man look up at exactly the same moment that the two men struck. One spear went through the man’s cheek while the other drove into his shoulder. He gave a cry and dropped his shield before tumbling backwards. The men had placed the ladder at a good angle for climbing and now it worked against them. The falling warrior hit the third man in the line ascending the ladder. The weight of them was too much and with a sharp crack the ladder broke. The ones closest to the ground just had a hard fall but the four falling bodies hit them hard. Only one of the men was able to stand and, as he staggered away, an arrow struck him in the back.
My grandfather nodded his satisfaction. “That is one ladder! Now to the next one.”
The other men had not had the success which we had. I saw that a knight had managed to gain a foothold on the fighting platform, “Samuel, deal with him. We will see to the next ladder.”
He advanced towards me, “Move! There is just a boy here to face me! We have the castle.”
I did not rise to the bait. I knew that I had a youthful face. It was not looks which counted but skill. This would be a true test of those skills. The battlements were to my right and that restricted the blows I could strike. I had to swing from above or risk hitting the stone. He had no such inhibition. He suddenly launched himself at me. He brought his sword up from below. He was trying to get underneath my shield. I slid my shield down to cover my knee and the sword hit it hard, jarring my arm. I feinted with my sword to gauge his reaction. He just smiled. “I have fought the Seljuk Turks and they have the fastest hands of any. Whatever you do will just delay the inevitable. You will die!”
My father and grandfather had taught me that such posturing was a waste of breath. It was actions which decided battles. I realised that I was slightly taller than he was. I feinted with my shield and then suddenly leapt off my right leg into the air. As I did so I brought down my sword. I took him by surprise. He had not expected the move. He had to block the blow with his sword and the force of my landing was so heavy that he stepped back. He tripped over the unconscious sentry and tumbled backwards. Putting my sword down I quickly picked up the spear I had thrown at him and went to the battlements. The man at arms’ face was level with the crenulation and I drove the spear down through his open mouth. He could not scream for I had ripped out his throat and his body fell taking the next two men with him. I had bought time.
The knight roared and lunged at me. One handed I hurled the spear at him. He easily blocked it with his shield but it allowed me to pick up my sword. I stood with my back to the stone so that I had some protection. He would have nothing but a drop from the fighting platform behind him. I saw, to the south, smoke rising from the river. I could not conceive why and I would have to wait for the answer. This battle was poised on the edge of a blade.
“Sneaky little bastard, aren’t you?”
I concentrated and made myself become cold and calm. He had lost his temper. He had been within touching distance of victory and I had snatched it from him. I waited for the blow I knew would come. He pulled his arm back and swung with all the force he had. I dropped to my left knee and put my shoulder behind my shield. Instead of swinging my sword I jabbed it hard at his knee. Like my father and the Earl Marshal I had a point to my sword and it drove into a mail link ripping it apart. It slid into the flesh just below his knee cap. I twisted my blade as his sword struck my shield like a hammer. I felt myself falling but I continued to push my sword through to the back of his leg. It was the knight who saved me for in his pain he tore his left leg from my sword. I crashed to the fighting platform. The tearing of his leg ripped his tendons and he could not support his weight. His back was over the edge of the fighting platform and I watched him as he tumbled into space. Below us was the roof of the bake house and I heard his metalled body smash into it. Slates fell and he rolled from it to crash onto the cobbles.
I heard a shout from William, “Lord, the ladder!”
He and my grandfather were trying to dislodge men from the ladder close to them and the rest of the defenders close by me were dead or wounded. My left arm was numb and I had to use my sword to push me upright. I sheathed it and picked up the helmet from a dead sentry and when I reached the battlements I threw it into the face of the sergeant who stared up at me. It struck his face hard and I saw blood spurt from his nose. Picking up a discarded spear I pulled my arm back and rammed the spear into the bloody face of the sergeant. His hands came up to protect himself and that doomed him. He fell backwards from the ladder and his motion made the ladder slide to the left.
Just then I heard Atheling shout, “I see Davy of Ingleby! He has men with him!”
I could see nothing for there were knights before me but when I heard the horn I knew that at least one of my men had found help. The horn and the falling ladders persuaded our attackers that they had failed and they streamed towards Aldgate. I looked to my right and saw that my grandfather, Sir Richard and our squires lived still but ten of the garrison and some of our men at arms lay dead or wounded. I hoped that my men had brought plenty of reinforcements. We needed them. Even as the enemy fled our archers on the Tower and in the gate tower, sent flight after flight towards them. Two fell but others were wounded.
My grandfather took off his helmet and embraced me, “Well done Samuel. You handled that knight well for he knew his business.”
Sir Richard shouted, “There are just twenty or so horsemen, Earl Marshal. I expected more!”
I looked over and saw eight knights with their squires along with Davy of Ingleby and some men at arms.
My grandfather said, “No matter, they saved the day. The enemy thought as you did Richard. We have more men to face their next attack.”
He looked weary and pale. His surcoat was bloodied but then so were ours but I noticed blood dripping from his left arm. “You are wounded!”
He smiled, “It is nothing.”
“Healers! The Earl Marshal is wounded!”
All thoughts of the reinforcements left me as Richard and I half carried my grandfather back towards the Tower. The healers met us just inside the door.
“It is nothing!”
“Let me be the judge of that, Earl Marshal. Take off his mail!” The doctor took charge.
Other healers passed us to go to the fighting platform. We needed every man we could save. The reinforcements would just allow us to fight another day. They would not enable us to win the battle. As we stripped his mail I saw that the links were broken on the upper left arm. The padding there was not as thick as on the chest and back. The sword had cut deeply. The doctor quickly tied cord around the upper arm above the wound to stop the bleeding. He worked quickly but calmly. He used vinegar to clear the blood and cleanse the wound. He peered at it to make certain that there was no cloth in the wound. Then he applied honey to slow the bleeding and help the healing. Finally, he began to stitch my grandfather’s pale arm. It must have hurt but he endured it stoically. When the doctor had finished the doctor tied a bandage around it and then loosened the cord. It was then that my grandfather winced.
John of Oxbridge arrived. He saw the blood and the doctor. He looked concerned, “The Earl?”
I am fine, John. What was the smoke?”
He grinned, partly relieved that my grandfather still lived and partly at his news, “One advantage of fighting from a stone tower is that you can use fire. Our archers sent fire arrows into the ships. Two sank. Some scrambled ashore while others were forced to cling to the last ship. They will not try that again.”
“Well done! Give your men extra ale tonight. They deserve it.”
“And you need rest!” The doctor shook his head. “Take him to his chamber, Sir Samuel. I will have broth brought. He needs food, wine and rest.” He glared at the Earl Marshal. “You will take no further part in this battle!”
My grandfather just smiled, “We shall see.”
Davy led the men he had brought around to the river gate. We heard their horses on the cobbles. “Sir Richard go and see Davy and Sir Ranulf. William, find out how many men we have to face the next assault.”
Although he was in pain my grandfather smiled as he leaned on me. “Perhaps this was meant to be.”
“What do you mean?” We entered the dark of
the stairs which led down to the chamber. I had to watch my footing for the spiralling staircase was not easy to negotiate.
“Your father is not here else he would have taken command. Sir Harold died or he would have been the one to give orders. You are learning to wear my mantle.”
I laughed and my laugh echoed in the stairway, “You are still in command, grandfather. It is you who make all the decisions.”
We entered the corridor where our rooms lay. “When I was your age my father was still alive. He was Lord of Norton and I thought as you did that he made all the decisions. Now, looking back through the tunnel of time, I see that it is not so. He watched me but in the heat of the battle it was I who made the vital decisions. It was so with you. The key battle was with the knight who gained the fighting platform. You took him on alone knowing that you would defeat him and that turned the battle in our favour. Sir Ranulf’s arrival merely ended the battle a little earlier.” We had reached his room. Already two servants were preparing his bed and I saw one of the doctor’s assistants with a draught. “You go and speak with Sir Ranulf. I will do as the doctor commanded for I am content that you command.” He stared into my eyes, “You and not Sir Ranulf.” I nodded. He smiled, “I see God’s hand in all of this. It is good. It is meant to be. Remember these lessons and teach them to your son.”
My grandfather constantly surprised me. I would do as he said. When I entered the great hall Sir Ranulf was there talking with Sir Richard. His household knights were there also. Davy of Ingleby stood in the door. I went to him. “Where is Walter Wulfestun?”
Davy shook his head, “In truth I know not. We had decided that I would see Sir Ranulf and Walter the Earl. We separated when we left the Falconer’s Glove. We thought it for the best and so it was. There were many men armed with swords in the city and by agreeing with their sentiments I made my way through to the Newgate. I slipped through when a conroi of knights and sergeants left to head west along the river. Their security was lax, lord. The knights in the city number more than our garrison by many times.” I nodded. “And another thing, lord, they are not all from hotter climes. I saw knights from Scotland and Wales. I heard knights with foreign voices. None had good mail. These are desperate men, lord. They will fight and die hard.”