by Griff Hosker
My father stopped and turned, “Then perhaps the warrior priest was wrong. He may recover.”
I shook my head, “So I thought but the Warlord is a master at deception. He is asleep now but when you see him he will appear dead. You have arrived just in time. This rising in the city is nothing. The Earl Marshal is passing and that is like the crack of doom.”
“Amen to that my son. At least he has had you with him. I should have been at his side and not wasting my time in France fighting petty wars for inconsequential pieces of soil! I shall not leave England again!”
The arrival of my father and Duke Richard roused Sir Ranulf and the Earl. Sir Richard hurried to greet him too. Sir James said, “Is your father still asleep, Sir Richard?”
“My father sleeps with the angels Sir James as does my brother. They both fell when we were betrayed by the Abbot of the Augustine Friars.”
Poor Sir James looked distraught. “I am sorry for my words. I would cut my tongue out. I did not know.”
Sir Richard gave a weak smile, “I am only just becoming accustomed to the loss of my father. We have had many battles since then. It seems a lifetime ago and yet it was not.”
We entered the Tower and Duke Richard growled, “There are many men who will pay for this treachery! When do we begin?”
“Sir Ranulf, would you and the Earl explain the situation to the Duke. I will take my father to the Earl Marshal’s quarters.”
As we ascended the stairs my father said, “You have grown, Samuel. You give commands like a seasoned warrior.”
“It was forced upon me for the Earl Marshal, whilst willing, has been unwell.”
We entered the chamber and my grandfather was waving away the doctor, “My son is here and I must greet him, leech!”
“You need your rest.”
My father said, “Heed the doctor, father. That is a command from me!”
The Earl Marshal sat on the bed and laughed, “I must be getting old. My son and grandson order me about as though I am a doddery old codger!” He nodded and I saw the pain it caused him. “I am pleased that you are here William.” He glanced at me. “From your face I see that your son has given you the news.”
I felt briefly guilty then said, “You did not say I could not tell my father.”
“True. You are not foresworn. You are forgiven.” He patted the bed. “Doctor, you may leave us. My son has news. You may send a servant with some ale if you would.”
“Medicine would be of more use.”
“Medicine cannot save me and ale will ease the pain as well as your draughts. Tell me all my son.”
My father waited until the ale arrived and we were alone before he began his tale. Occasionally my grandfather would interrupt to add some knowledge and information he thought to be relevant. I said nothing. I was learning and I had the best two teachers in the world.
The Earl Marshal leaned back, “So King Henry will deal with his son. I pray that the Earl of Pembroke is not involved in this conspiracy.”
My father said, “From what I learned from Sir Leofric this Hubert de Mamers is of an age with the young King Henry. I suspect they met when enjoying competing in the tourney. Both have reasons to be bitter. Young Henry feels he should have more control of his own finances and de Mamers wishes the land his grandsire lost. It strikes me that they would be drawn together.”
My grandfather frowned. It was a sure sign that the pain in his head had returned. “That is not our concern. London and this gathering of men at Windsor is the immediate danger. Now I see why the mayor fled west. I had thought he sought to escape trouble. It is obvious now that he was part of it. When Earl William’s men return from scouring the land we will have more men. The ones who will follow you and Duke Richard should swell our numbers. We need to attack tomorrow morning. They will not expect that. Send Sir James south of the river to meet with Roger of Bath, our men and the Duke’s knights. If they can attack across London Bridge then we can attack here at the postern gate. Duke Richard is keen?”
“He is desperate to avenge the knights he lost.”
“Then he can lead the Earl of Essex’s men, Sir Ranulf’s and all but the garrison and Captain Robert.”
I spoke for the first time. I had seen how the garrison had been battered. I wondered if they would stand. “That is a gamble!”
“Perhaps but think about this, Samuel. All that we have done is defend. They know not about the men to the east of the Tower. Our men south of the river are also a secret. Even the arrival of a prince of the blood is a secret. They will expect us to do the same as we did today and sit behind our walls. Use our men at arms. They are keen to avenge those who were butchered. They can slip across the wall during the hours of darkness and when we attack, at dawn, they can let us in at the postern gate. With Duke Richard parading before the north wall then all of their attention will be on him. Bringing the King’s son was an act of genius William, well done.”
My father shrugged, “It was an accident.”
The Earl Marshal rubbed his head again. “I leave the rest of the planning to you. I have planted the seed, you can water it, watch it grow and harvest it. I will rest.”
We bade farewell. In the corridor my father leaned against the wall. “He is so old and ill. How did I not see it?”
“Because he hid it. I now know the signs but that is because I have not been out of his company for some time. Each time I leave him I fear it will be for the last time.”
We headed down the corridor, “There is little justice in this world. For what he did for England he should have been feted and honoured. Instead he is holed up in this tower and fighting for his life.” He looked at me. “It is up to you and me, Samuel. We have to end this petty war and take him home. If he is to die then it should be in Stockton.”
I said nothing. The Earl Marshal would die in London; of that I was convinced.
Chapter 16
My father told the others of the plan. It was interesting for he never asked, he commanded. There was a Duke of Aquitaine present but none questioned the orders. I realised that part of that was down to the fact that most of the risks would be taken by our people. Duke Richard just had to parade knights and mounted men at arms before the Moorgate.
“We send a small group of men to take the postern gate in the city. Our archers and the rest of our men at arms will hold the gate. At the same time Sir James will lead our men who are south of the river and they will attack the river wall. Duke Richard and all of the knights will draw the attention of the defenders to the north wall and they will assault the gates when we have drawn enough men from the north wall and people flee.”
It was the Duke who showed he had a good mind for such things by asking pertinent questions.
“How do we coordinate our movements?”
My father pointed to Sir James, “Sir James will leave now.” We had kept the wherry on our side of the river. “After gathering our men, he will wait until you are in position on the north side. You, my lord, will sound your horn three times and our men will make their way across the bridge. My son will speak with the men who are to sneak into the city. When they hear the horn, they will unlock the postern gate and Samuel and I will lead the rest of our men to attack.”
The Duke frowned, “We do nothing but parade?”
“When you sound the horn, lord, you begin to prepare three lines as though you intend to charge the walls.”
He snorted, “Only a fool would do that!”
“Then let him think that you are a fool, lord. We know you are not. When the people flee from the gates then you attack.”
“There is much upon your shoulders.” I heard the respect in the Duke’s voice.
“My family has always had the weight of the country upon its shoulders. When my father dies then it will fall upon mine and then Samuel’s. When Samuel is no longer with us then it will be Thomas, his son.” He left much unsaid. He did not mention the revolt by the princes nor the race for land and riches which dr
ove many others. Instead he allowed them to reflect on the unselfish legacy my grandfather, the Earl Marshal had left. “If there are no further questions then my son and Sir James have tasks to perform.” He turned to me, “Samuel impress upon the men that they must succeed. If they fail then Sir James will lose many men in his attack.”
“I will, father.”
I felt honoured that I would be the one to brief our men. It demonstrated the trust my father had in me. I went to the warrior hall. At the door I parted from Sir James, “Take care Sir James.”
“I have the easiest of tasks. I lead the men of the Earl Marshal and Duke Richard’s knights. Your men at arms have to enter the lair of the fox. I hope that they are well prepared.”
I had sent William to bring the men at arms we had chosen to make the attack from the walls. There were fewer of them now. We had chosen the ones who were known for their skills. We needed men who could sneak in the dark and think on their feet. We had more archers than men at arms. The bulk of the men my father had brought would be waiting at London Bridge. Ralph, Tomas and Henry Warbow had rejoined the other archers. They listened as I spoke with the six men at arms who would have to get into the city. Even as I briefed them I knew that there were not enough of them. William and I would have to go with them. In truth I had decided it earlier. It was not an attempt at gaining glory. It was calculated and it was reasoned.
“The six of you, led by me and accompanied by my squire William, will enter the city within the next hour. We will hide there until we hear the horn sounded three times. Then we take the postern gate and hold it until Sir Richard, my father and our archers can enter. We then get to London Bridge to ensure that Roger of Bath and the rest of our men can enter.”
The men at arms nodded but Ralph asked, “Why you, lord? We archers have good knife skills.”
“And I have not?”
“I did not mean that, lord, but you are too valuable to be risked.”
“Did the Earl Marshal hide from danger, Ralph?”
“No, lord. He led from the front.”
“As shall I. Besides I know our enemies. I know the city. Do you?” He shook his head. “You will be called upon to use your war bows to great effect. We will be outnumbered until Duke Richard can enter the city. We may be a handful but we are a band of brothers who can cause more harm to an enemy than five times our number.”
James of Oxbridge grinned and said, “Aye, lord, you are right there!”
His brother cuffed him, “Silence whelp! You are honoured that Sir Samuel leads us. Forgive him, lord. Has fought a couple of skirmishes and thinks he is a hero! He will learn.”
Ralph was like a dog with a bone. “Lord the Falconer’s Glove has sympathetic folk inside. The innkeeper fled south with his family but his whores and his tapster stayed in the inn. They are loyal and can be trusted. Why not use the inn as a place to hide?”
I was not certain. “This might bring harm to the folk therein.”
“The whores are quick thinking lord and as I have learned to my cost can simulate most realistically.” The bawdy laughter of the others gave his words a meaning I had not grasped. “What I am saying lord is that if this fails, and I do not think that it will, then they will say you forced yourselves upon them. They will tear their clothes and they will weep. But lord, we will not fail. You will not fail.”
“Good, then prepare yourselves.”
Henry Warbow said, quietly, “Lord you cannot wear mail nor your spurs. They will make a noise. You must go as the others do in leather jerkin and boots.” I suddenly felt out of my depth and I nodded. “Tomas, go fetch suitable war gear for his lordship and young William.”
Even as they began to strip my mail from me John of Oxbridge wiped his hands with soot from the chimney and smeared it on my hands and face. “You will need to be as a blackamoor. White shows at night. If you close your eyes then none can see.” I opened my mouth to ask the most obvious of questions and he smiled, “Use your ears and nose. At night time they are more valuable than sight anyway.”
There was neither mirror nor polished dish to view my reflection but when I saw William smile I knew how I looked. I nodded, “Let us go.”
John of Oxbridge said, “Lord if I might suggest?” I waved a hand. “Let us not use the gatehouse. They will be watching it and it will make a noise. I have watched from the river gate. We can slip around the outer wall and walk between it and the river. There is no moon this night. We might have to wade the ditch near to the gatehouse, perhaps even swim, but we wear no mail. If we scramble up the bank we will be unseen by all.”
Aelric nodded, “It is a good plan, lord.”
“Then I will follow. Lead on John of Oxbridge.”
We left the gate quietly. The sentries were not my men and thought nothing of allowing us through. My father would be angry. I knew that. Once we were through we headed to the west side of the stake filled ditch and waded through the shallows until we were on the mud. It sucked at us for a short time. The tide had gone out. The archers waved a silent farewell and we were alone. I walked behind John of Oxbridge and his brother brought up the rear. That was his punishment for interrupting me. When we reached the ditch, I caught the smell of the fire from the brazier in the gatehouse. I heard the murmur of conversation. It showed that we had not been seen. I was in John of Oxbridge’s hands. He suddenly waved his hand and we headed up the east side of the now tidal ditch. The sound of the sentries became louder. We reached the bridge into the castle and John led us silently across. It was knee deep and we moved slowly to avoid splashes. Once on the other side we walked down the west side.
We reached the river and he stopped. He held up his hand and disappeared. A few moments later he returned and waved me towards him. We were on the river side and the bank was not as steep as it was by the bridge. We began to climb. There were sentries above. I could hear them but not see them. That boded well for, if we did not make a noise then we would be invisible too. The walls were just three paces high. I wondered how we would ascend them. Normally we used shields. We had not brought shields. When we reached the wall we all stood with our backs to it. John was, effectively, in command. I saw him listening. We seemed to wait an age. I knew what he was doing. He was working out the routine of their patrol.
He waved his brother and Davy of Ingleby forward. He and Brian stood with their backs to the wall and they cupped their hands. John pointed to James and his brother ran fearlessly at the two men and planted his feet in their hands. They boosted him. His hands grabbed the crenulations and he used the degraded mortar between the stones to climb. John and Brian moved down the wall and Davy of Ingleby emulated them.
I pointed to myself and I stepped down the slope. They moved to their right this time. I ran and put first one foot and then another into their cupped hands. As I was lifted it felt as though I was flying and I grasped the crenulations. My feet scrambled for the cracks in the mortar. It was not as easy as the other two had made it look but I managed to gain a foothold and pull myself half way up. Davy and James helped to pull me up and over. They pointed and I saw that the two sentries were at the turret by the south east corner of the city walls. I heard the rattle of dice. The careless sentries had given us a chance. Leaning over the wall the three of us helped the others over the top.
I knew where we were and I led them away from the sentries towards the ladder which led down to the Billing’s Gate. There were two towers over the gate but there were stairs which descended close to the turret. I gambled that they would think the river side was safe. We stepped quietly down the stairs to the ground. As we reached the cobbled surface I could smell a mixture of fish and beer. Once we had reached the cobbles of the street the hardest part of our task was over. We leaned against the wall, beneath the fighting platform. We could have just hidden there but there was always the risk that we might be seen and so I headed for the Falconer’s Glove. I vaguely remembered where it was. I nearly went wrong and took the wrong turning in the narrow ma
ze that was the busy streets of London. John tapped my shoulder and pointed left. I saw the glove hanging from the metal hook. It was a crude but effective sign.
John went to the door and tapped three times, gently, stopped and then repeated it. He waited. Instead of the door opening a wooden shutter was lifted. John slid along the wall and I heard whispers. Then he came back and the door opened. The interior was smoky. It had been lit with tallow candles and brands. One still flared and it gave the room an orange glow. There was a musky smell mixed with the odour of stale ale and sweat. I had rarely been in such an inn. Four girls stood with cloaks draped around them. The tapster was a huge man. His job, when the innkeeper was present, was to bring up new barrels and tap them.
One of the girls laughed when she saw our faces, “Harold, how much do we charge blackamoors? I have heard their manhood is bigger than that of Englishmen.”
Harold turned and snapped, “Keep a civil tongue in your head, Mary Soft Breast! This is Sir Samuel. He is the grandson of the Earl Marshal.”
The girl looked contrite and she tried to bob a curtsy. She failed and her cloak slipped revealing a naked form beneath. As she pulled up her cloak she said, “Sorry, my lord.”
I smiled, “We can wash this off now and you will see that we are Englishmen. As for our manhood? That will have to remain our secret.” The girls giggled.
“Fetch ale and dress yourselves.” He turned to John of Oxbridge. “Is the master still alive then? We feared for him when he fled. The wherry was heavily laden. He has many children.”
“He is fine and he has done great service. He will be rewarded.”
“Just get rid of the scum who have invaded our town. One of the girls, Alice the Virgin was beaten by one of them yesterday night.”
“Why?”
He looked at me, “He had lost men in the battle and he had drunk too much. He said that Alice was not a virgin and he beat her. I would have stopped him but he had three men with him.”