by Griff Hosker
“They are my father’s subjects. They should be honoured to do so.”
“And your father is in France. These are the people who have to grub a living despite harsh winters, hot summers and over bearing taxes. I brought them to hide our archers. I would not wish one of them to die this day. It is we who are the warriors and not they. Today the battle will be decided by warriors. Daylight is wasting. We ride.”
Our men at arms and archers were no fools and they knew that my grandfather was ill. They rode close together and there was none of the normal banter which accompanied our men. The mood was reflective. My father kept glancing over to the Earl Marshal. I knew what he was thinking. It was all the undone years. He was thinking of the time when there had been a split between them. My father admitted that it was his fault but you could not go back and change events. You lived with them and they haunted your dreams. Ever since then the duty both men owed to their King and country had meant they had not seen as much of each other as they might have wished. I felt blessed. Of late I had not left my grandfather’s side. I had cherished each moment. Every word and each conversation was etched into my mind for when he was gone I would have just a memory. I determined that as soon as he was old enough I would tell Thomas of his great grandfather. He would be the warlord of the future. That mantle would pass to my father and thence to me. My family understood duty and loyalty better than most men. It had cost us dear.
We kept close to the river as we headed west. Masood had already told us that their camp lay between the castle and the town. Our arrival would be seen but it would take them time to move men around to face us. My father was worried about Duke Richard. He told me that when in France the Duke had seemed happy to obey my father’s commands but since he had arrived in England he appeared to be more intent upon building his own reputation. The plan of the Earl Marshal relied upon drawing our enemy to us and letting our archers thin them while our men at arms held them at bay.
When we reached the castle, we saw that the standard which flew was that of Hubert de Mamers. He had not yet declared for his true master. Perhaps our victories had weakened his resolve. If we could win this day then that threat would be gone. The fyrd were marched into the eaves of the wood which was the royal hunting park. The archers had left their horses just five miles from the park. The fyrd were strung out for miles along the road. The fact that they would be arriving when battle was joined did not worry us. The reinforcements would bolster the ones who had arrived first. What we were doing was disguising our archers. The whole land knew of the skill of the archers of the north. The enemy would look for them but they would be hidden in plain sight amongst the fyrd. We took our place in the centre of the line. Duke Richard and his knights lined up on the right. Sir Ranulf, the Earl of Essex and the rest line up on the left. The men at arms dismounted and tethered their horses in the woods. They then took their spears and formed a double line before us. We had too few for three lines. To aid them we had brought caltrops from the armoury of the tower. The men at arms surreptitiously seeded the ground before them. They would break up the first assault. The knights we had brought from home, Sir James, Sir Padraig, Sir Morgan, Sir Gilles, Sir Richard: all them flanked the Earl Marshal. They would protect him during the battle.
We heard horns. Our battle plan relied on de Mamers wishing to fight us. If he retired to the castle then we were in trouble for it was a mighty castle. The Earl Marshal was calmness personified. He looked around him and smiled at all that he saw. He spoke to the men at arms using their names and recalling the warriors they had known. He spoke of battles past in which they had fought. He laughed and he joked. He stroked White Star often. Mostly, however, he looked over to me and then to my father.
“One day your son Thomas will ride behind you, Samuel. He will go to war. His mother may not like that but for you it will be a proud day. I remember when I went to war with your father clinging to a palfrey. Aye we drubbed the Scots that day.”
My father smiled at the memory, “Much as my son rode behind me against the Scots too.”
The Earl Marshal nodded, “We are at peace with the Scots now but I know in my heart that it will not last. I have fought them for the last time but you, my son, will have to put them in their place again for they are ever desperate to claim that which has never been theirs. Stephen gave it away once and they seem to think it was a gift for life!”
Just then Brian shouted, “Warlord. They come!”
The gates to the castle opened as men began to filter around from the east and west. They were all mounted. My grandfather seemed pleased, “They have taken the bait and, so far as these old eyes can see, there are no crossbows.” He turned, “Go and tell Aelric to get into position.”
With the men at arms before us and our line of fifteen horsemen Aelric and his archers would be able to move and stand behind us. They would be hidden from view. Before they were moved into their final position then the enemy would have to commit to the charge. I wheeled my palfrey from the line. The woods were a sea of faces. I had yet to don my helmet and my coif hung over my shoulders. I saw Aelric and Atheling speaking with those of the fyrd who had bows.
“The Earl says to move into position.”
Aelric nodded, “Lord there are another fifty archers in the fyrd. Some serve with your father and grandfather. I would have them fight alongside us. It will double our attack.”
I nodded, “Make it so!” I wheeled and rode back to the standards. “Aelric is using the archers from the fyrd.”
“That is good.” My grandfather smiled at me, “That is the result of good training and trust. Keep those in mind and you will do well, Samuel.”
“I have learned much from you and I would that I could continue to learn.”
“As would I but…”
Just then we heard another horn and saw the enemy dividing into three battles. The centre one was the smallest and made up of the knights and their squires. The other two were larger and made up of sergeants at arms. I heard my grandfather chuckle. “He comes for me then.”
“Do not worry, grandfather. We will protect you.”
He turned suddenly, “You will do no such thing. I do not wish to die today but if this is meant to be then I will die fighting. The alternative is for me to return to my chamber, close my eyes and then one day never to wake up. Wulfric did not enjoy that end and nor will I.”
I knew then that this was my grandfather’s choice. He had chuckled for he saw an opportunity to die as he had lived, on his terms. Death was another enemy and he would defeat him just as he had defeated all the others. Would I be able to face death as stoically?
A horn sounded and the three battles moved forward. One disadvantage of our position was that the battlefield was wide and suited the enemy. The two battles of men at arms moved east and west respectively so that they could charge our knights. The enemy knights came at a slower pace.
My father shouted, “Now Aelric. They are committed.”
The archers filtered through our horses and took up a position behind the men at arms. The fyrd archers did not have bodkin arrows but their hunting arrows would do damage to horses. As they took up their positions I saw that Aelric had divided the fyrd into two and they flanked the Stockton archers. Atheling commanded one band of fyrd and Henry Warbow the other. I felt the ground shake as the horses increased their speed. Our knights would wait until the last moment to counter charge. I was confident that they would see off the sergeants at arms. The danger lay in the knights. They outnumbered our men at arms and despite the caltrops and the archers I knew that many would penetrate our lines and when they did that gap could be exploited.
I donned my helmet and swung my shield around. The Earl Marshal, although he was not going to fight, did the same. After fifty years it was hard to lose old habits. We would not be using spears. The enemy lances would be shattered by the time they reached us; if they reached us. I heard Roger of Bath shout, “Lock shields and brace!” The spear butt would be pressed against their r
ight foot and the spear supported by the shield arm. I had faced knights on foot before now and knew that it took a special kind of courage. Our men had that.
Aelric shouted, “Nock!” Even as he nocked his own arrow he looked down the line. “Draw!” The noise of the double line of bows being pulled back was audible. It was as though the bows were alive. When the arrows were released it would be a satisfied sigh we all heard. I had witnessed this often enough to anticipate the sounds. Then there would be the sight of a hundred goose fletched missiles heading up into the air before descending to wreak havoc on the advancing men. “Release!” Almost as soon as the arrows were in the air I heard him shout, “Nock!” This was for the benefit of the fyrd. They were being given a master class in archery. When the battle was over their shoulders and arms would burn for they were fighting alongside the elite.
The fyrd’s arrows did not travel as far as our archers but Aelric had compensated for that and given the order when the enemy were closer than they would normally be. I saw horses struck. Only one horse actually fell. The wounded ones, however twisted and turned as they tried to ride themselves of the barbed irritant. Two squires tumbled from their saddles. I saw other arrows embed themselves into the mail of knights. Some would have struck flesh but the riders were ignoring the irritation.
As I glanced to my right I saw and heard the clash as Duke Richard led his men to charge into the sergeants at arms. Our knights had lances and they used them well. They shattered and they shook the enemy. Sergeants fell from their saddles. Horses were impaled. Some reared and some fell. There was a similar picture to the left. Then my attention was drawn to the centre where the first horses discovered the caltrops. Their riders spurred them. They were war horses. Two reared and threw their riders but the rest continued on their way.
I saw knights rise in their saddles to pull back their arms and to punch with their spears. It was what I had been trained to do. There was a crack like thunder as wood met wood. Inevitably there were casualties on both sides. Knights fell, horses were speared, men at arms died. Henry son of Watt fell as did Richard of Ely. They were to the left of Roger of Bath and there was suddenly a gap in our front rank. The second rank were not our men. They too died but I did not know their names.
Roger of Bath roared, “Reform! Hold them!”
The Earl Marshal suddenly said, “Fool!” I looked to were he gazed. Duke Richard had broken the enemy. Instead of coming to our aid, he and his knights were pursuing the survivors as they raced back to the castle. Even worse a large contingent of the fyrd had followed and were streaming across the flat ground to ransack the dead. What might have been a victory was suddenly taking on the aspect of a defeat.
On the other side Sir Ranulf and the Earl of Essex had obeyed orders. They were still fighting against the men at arms but they were also applying pressure to the right-hand side of the enemy knights. The battle hung in the balance. We were helpless to intervene.
My father shouted, “There, I see the standard of de Mamers and that of D’Oilli. They have made a wedge.”
Others had broken our line of men at arms and the enemy leadership exploited it. Roger of Bath had only managed to strengthen the side closest to Sir Ranulf. Duke Richard’s reckless charge had exposed the other men at arms and I watched in horror as Tom the Badger was cut down by Hubert de Mamers. Our archers were doing their best but the knights neared the archers of the fyrd. It was too much to expect them to stand against charging knights. Henry Warbow tried to rally them but when he was speared by D’Oilli’s squire they bolted. Suddenly holes appeared all the way along our lines. Sir Padraig and Sir Morgan rode to fill one hole. Sir Gilles and Sir Richard a second. Wherever a hole appeared a knight of the valley and his squire rode to plug it.
De Mamers shouted, “Now I shall have vengeance old man!”
He and another three knights, including D’Oilli rode at my grandfather. I only had a palfrey but it mattered not. I spurred the animal and he leapt forward. I swung my sword and it rang against Hubert de Mamers’ just as he was about to strike the Earl Marshal.
“You shall not occupy me long, pup!”
I saw, through my eyehole, that my father was fighting D’Oilli and that William and Thomas had placed themselves next to my grandfather. I swung my palfrey’s head around and blocked the next strike from de Mamers. I had also placed my horse and myself between the rogue knight and the Earl Marshal. To get to my grandfather he would have to go through me!
De Mamers had a superior horse and it snapped and bit at my poor palfrey. I was finding it hard to control the animal. My only advantage was that I had higher ground. I stood in my stirrups and brought my sword over as hard as I could. De Mamers had quick hands and he brought his sword around backhanded to smash into my side. The breath went from me as my ribs were broken. My sword connected with his helmet and I saw that I had not only dented it but that it was cracked. The blow had made him turn slightly.
The rest of the battlefield disappeared and all that I saw was the distance from my hand to the tip of my sword. De Mamers sought to exploit my wound and he turned his horse to swing at my damaged ribs. I wheeled my palfrey and blocked the blow with my shield. At the same time, I spurred my horse so that I was closer to the knight. If the battle continued like this then I would lose. I kicked my left leg free from my stirrup and then I launched myself over my cantle at the surprised Hubert de Mamers. He was not expecting me to do that. Miraculously I pulled my right foot from the stirrup and we crashed heavily to the ground. The traitor was unable to get his right leg from his stirrup and his horse fell upon his leg. I heard the knight grunt in pain. The fall made me roll over the horse’s rump.
My ribs were hurting but I forced myself to struggle to my feet. De Mamers had the luck of the devil. Even as he pulled his foot free his horse rose and galloped off. De Mamers damaged helmet had also fallen. He saw my grandfather and lunged at him. William was in the way of the blow and I saw blood spurt as his chausse was torn. I screamed in rage and brought my sword down on to de Mamers’ sword. It struck the ground and I backhanded my sword towards his chest. I hit him and, with a weakened right leg he could not keep his balance. He fell.
I ran to him and raised my sword to end the life of this traitor.
He must have recognised my intent for he shouted, “I yield!”
I heard his words but I was so angry that my sword continued its arc. My grandfather’s voice made it halt. “Samuel, he has surrendered. You cannot continue the strike.”
I was panting and I was angry but this was the Earl Marshal who commanded me. I took off my helmet so that he could see the anger in my eyes. “Then drop your sword!” His fingers released his sword. I picked it up and handed it to my grandfather. “You are lucky you snake! The Earl Marshal has just saved your life.”
I looked up as there was a cry and D’Oilli fell backwards from his horse. My father had slain him. It was the end of the battle. Our men at arms took the surrender of many knights. Even more fled and this time they were pursued by Sir Ranulf, the Earl of Essex and the fyrd. Our archers and men at arms had paid a terrible price protecting the Earl Marshal and none of them were in a position to do anything other than regain their breath.
My grandfather handed the sword to Thomas. After taking off his helmet he started to dismount. I saw that William was being tended to by a healer. My father dismounted. He took off his helmet. I lowered my coif. The air felt cool. The Earl Marshal looked in pain although he had not been wounded. He saw my look and said, “The pain came again but I saw the future, Samuel. You are the knight who will save England long after your father and I are dead. Men will speak your name and when they do their words will be filled with awe.”
I shook my head, “I just did that which you taught me.”
“Then I did it well.”
I looked at the healer, “How is my squire?”
“He will live. The blow missed anything vital. He will limp for a while and it will itch but that is all.”
One of the captured knights helped Hubert de Mamers to his feet. I saw that one leg had been hurt by the falling horse. I heard hooves and, looking up saw Duke Richard. He had taken off his helmet and he was grinning, “A great victory, Earl Marshal!”
My grandfather shook his head, “And would have been even greater had you not disobeyed my orders.” He pointed to the dead bodies of Aelric, Roger of Bath and Atheling who had fallen in the last mêlée. “These brave men would be alive if you had done as I commanded.”
“I am the son of the King! I do not answer to any.”
“And I am the Earl Marshal of England and I do command! Shame on you sir!”
All eyes were on my grandfather and the red-faced Duke. I sensed it but did not see it as Hubert de Mamers suddenly launched himself at my grandfather. His dagger entered the back of the Earl Marshal.
“No!” I still had my sword in my hand and in one blow I took the head of the treacherous knight. Almost instinctively I swung to my right as the other knight who had surrendered pulled a dagger from his belt. I took his head too and then throwing my sword to the ground I knelt by my grandfather. My father rushed to his side too.
“Healer!”
I rolled my grandfather over and he looked at me. He held my left hand with his right one, “Tell your father it is too late.” The healer grabbed a cloth and held it to the wound to stem the bleeding. “I am dying. It will not be the sleep which lasts forever which takes me. I died in battle. Thank you, Samuel. You behaved with honour. It was de Mamers who showed his true colours. William, you have been the best of sons and Samuel is the best of grandsons.”
I smiled, “I am the only one!”
He looked over my shoulder and said, “Perhaps.” He closed his eyes and I thought him dead. Then he opened them again. “I do not like to be a bother but I would be buried with my wife in Stockton. Dick, Wulfric and Edward will be there. I shall be in good company.” I noticed his voice was getting weaker. The healer shook his head.