The Archer's Return: Medieval story in feudal times about knights, Templars, crusaders, Marines, and naval warfare during the Middle Ages in England in the reign of King Richard the lionhearted

by Martin Archer

  “Uh. Yoram, when we get back to the compound would you please ask Lena to show her where the piss pot and shit hole and kitchen are, and things like that?” Christ. I don’t even know her name.

  So I stop and turn around and ask.

  “What is your name?”

  “Helen, Master.”

  Our arrival back at our little tower creates an uproar. Someone, probably Peter, must have run ahead for when we get there everyone’s bedding and personal clothes and weapons are either already gone or being moved out, except mine. And without initially saying a word, but wearing a big smile, Harold begins scooping up his.

  “I’m off to the cog’s cabin aren’t I?” he asks no one in particular as he heads for the door.

  Yoram scoots up the stone staircase and a few minutes later down waddles Lena with a big smile and little Aria tucked into her arms to show Helen around. I just stand there dumb as a stone.

  Finally I decide it’s time to be useful so off I go to talk to Brian and see how his smiths and fletchers are doing. He stands and gives me a very big and knowing smile as I walk up to the wooden shed where the women are working on our new arrows and bows.

  “I see you’ve already heard.”

  Brian responds by nodding his head. Then he can’t contain himself and he starts roaring with laughter and then, to make matters even more embarrassing, so do all the women sitting on the carpets fletching arrows. I can’t control myself either. I start laughing too. And then, to make matters worse, when the laughing stops and Henry and I are talking about the pikes, the women start giggling and making quiet little comments to each other with periodic nods of their heads towards me.

  All I can do is lift both hands in resignation and shrug my shoulders and smile back at them – which causes more peals of laughter and even bigger smiles.

  @@@@@

  That evening starts with all the makings of a disaster. Helen runs of to Thomas Cook’s kitchen and brings me food and drink. Then she crosses her legs and sits down to watch me eat. It makes me nervous. I haven’t eaten alone in years.

  “For God’s sake go get some food and wine for yourself. I don’t like eating alone and I don’t like people staring at me when I eat.”

  “Yes Master.”

  “And stop calling me Master. You’re my pledged vassal now, not a slave. My name is William.”

  “Yes Master.”

  My supper is very nice and the second bowl of wine she runs and fetches for me improves my mood quite a bit. We talk about various things. Helen speaks French because of her mother and I learn a lot because I have her tell me all about herself.

  Helen doesn’t know how old she is but she seems to be quite an innocent. She’d never even been out of her family’s compound until her uncle Reuben brought her to Cyprus with a woman servant as a chaperone. It was very cold on the galley and they didn’t have any blankets. But now, she brightly volunteered, she knows why her mother told her one of her duties would be to sleep with me to keep me warm. Oh Jeez.

  I leave the candle burning after I get back from using the shit hole and sit down on the string bed that keeps me off the cold floor. Helen immediately runs over and kneels down to take off my sandals.

  “May I rub your shoulders and massage your body, Master? My mother taught me how. My mother said that when I had a master he would enjoy being massaged and touched. Is it true?”

  “Er. Yes, I think so. Yes, I’m sure your mother is right.”

  What followed surprises me. Yes it truly does. She promptly runs around behind me, puts her hands under my shirt, and begins kneading my shoulders. It is quite pleasant and relaxing. It’s something new and I like it and I tell her so.

  “Oh good. I was hoping you’d like it. Will you lie down on the bed, Master, so I can massage and touch the rest of you?”

  So I do and she does and she is quite thorough about it. Then she really surprises me.

  “Oh good. I’m making your man thing happy. My mother said I’ll know it is happy if it gets bigger and you will let it give me a present if I make it really happy by massaging and kissing it.”

  “A present?”

  “Oh yes, Lord. She said if I am a good servant you’ll enjoy it when your man thing gives me a present of gravy in my mouth that will taste good or a present of gravy when you put your man thing in the hole between my legs where I pee. She says that putting it in me will feel really good for both of us once I get used to it. Is she right Lord? Will you let me have it if I please you enough? Oh I hope I can please you so your wife doesn’t get it all. I’ll try. I really will.” Wife? Oh my God.

  “Uh. Umm. Yes. I’m sure your mother is right. Of course she is. What else did she tell you?”

  Chapter Eight

  We’ve been regularly sending galleys to Beirut to pick up refugees. It’s a place I know a bit about since I’d been there myself years ago with Richard and more recently when Lord Edmund visited to try to recruit more men. Since I already know the city I decide to let someone else go. That way I can stay in Cyprus for a few more weeks and enjoy life with Helen.

  Helen is quite enjoyable despite being a bit strange; she even filled a leather bucket with water and a bowl of white wine and washed me and my clothes. She says it kills the itchy lice around my dingle.

  I was quite fearful at first because I’d heard that washing weakens a man. But she is so insistent that I decide to risk it. Truth be told, it feels sort of good.

  @@@@@

  Instead of going myself to look at Beirut I’ve sent Randolph with two galleys. They are going with their crews at refugee carrying levels - so they’ll be able to carry as many refugees as possible and still put up a good fight if they are attacked. While he is there it will be Randolph’s job to look for some sort of office or compound we can use if we decide to station someone there permanently as our master sergeant.

  Besides, if I stay here in Cyprus longer the galleys going to England with me will be able to make more trips to the Holy Land ports and gather more coins by carrying refugees to safety.

  Another reason I decide to stay in Cyprus a bit longer is that I’m still concerned about the king - although so far we haven’t heard a peep out of him. He’s probably busy trying to find replacements for the men whose heads he took to save his own.

  In any event, Randolph left yesterday with two galleys. He is not going to Beirut alone. Robert Monk and Peter Sergeant are with him and so is Andy Anderson who just returned from Acre where he’d been Simon’s chosen man and apparently did quite well. Aaron the merchant is also traveling with Randolph. He’ll be Randolph’s interpreter if one is needed and help introduce him to the local merchants and officials.

  Between the five of them they have more than enough experience to know what we want and what to look for. I’m looking forward to getting their suggestions when they return.

  Everything I’ve heard so far suggests Beirut has real prospects for us since the Saracens seem to be heading that way now that they’ve taken Jerusalem. But how long can it hold out and who should we send there if we decide to proceed?

  We’re not just looking at Beirut. We’re looking at other cities because Yoram thinks that there are a lot of refugees and merchants here in Cyprus and elsewhere who will pay handsomely to get themselves and their cargos safely to ports beyond Cyprus. Indeed, making it possible for refugees and cargos to get beyond our Cyprus hub is the main reason we’re considering opening up the additional offices and compounds.

  The other reason, of course, is to earn coins carrying people like crusaders and Christian pilgrims back to the Holy Land on our galleys’ return trips. They are, of course, either totally ignorant as to the reception they will receive in the Holy Land or have death wishes. But they also have coins and who am I not to help them get to wherever it is they want to go?

  @@@@@

  Randolph and his men are back from their trip to Beirut with a lot of information and two galleys full of refugees and coins. He and the men I sent wit
h him all agree that we should set up a compound or office near the Beirut dock. They also recommend that we greatly increase our galley visits because of the increasing flow of refugees trickling out of Damascus and the Christian manors around it.

  Aaron is staying in Beirut. Randolph brought me a parchment from him saying he’d talked to the local merchants and clergy and thinks we might be able to profitably station two or three escape galleys here for them to get away in when the Saracens come. Some of the local fishermen, he said, are making similar offers but are not trusted the way we are. We have, it seems, a good reputation for fighting off pirates and doing what we say we will do.

  Aaron’s decision to stay in Beirut for a while is something he and I had discussed and negotiated before he sailed with Randolph. I authorized him to commit up to four escape galleys to permanently standby to carry the local merchants and worthies to safety. Our price for each minimally crewed escape galley standing by for one year will be the same as we are charging in Acre and Alexandria. Aaron and his agents will keep one in every ten of the escape galley coins they collect from the local merchants and other worthies – and they are for emergency evacuations only; they cannot use them to carry paying passengers and cargos.

  @@@@@

  Now that Randolph and his men have returned from Beirut it’s time for me to take a look at Constantinople and Antioch. I can’t put it off any longer. And after I do, I’ll head on to England via Malta and the coasts of Spain and France. Helen is going with me to England and so are a number of our men and galleys.

  Not every man and galley going with me to England will be sailing there via Constantinople. Our galleys are earning too many coins hauling refugees to justify moving them away from the Holy Land until it absolutely the last minute. That’s why I am only planning to take Randolph and my two fetchers and helpers, Peter and Robert, and three of our sturdiest galleys to Antioch and Constantinople; we’ll rendezvous with the rest of our England-bound galleys and men in Malta in six weeks - and then, although our men and pilots don’t know it yet, we’re going travel a route that hasn’t been traveled in a long time. Yes, Helen is coming with me; I want her to see England.

  Harold won’t be captaining my galley this time. Instead he’ll be organizing and leading the ten or eleven galleys that will be sailing from Cyprus straight to Malta. He’s good at organizing such things isn’t he?

  We’d take more galleys and coin chests to England but we are so short of Marine archers that Harold may not be able to bring even ten. We are limited as to how many can go to England because we have to leave enough men behind to guard our compound and man the galleys that will stay behind to continue carrying refugees from the Holy Land ports.

  Recruiting more English and Welsh archers to become Marines is vital if we are to continue growing the stock of coins we’ll need for George’s future, at least that’s what Thomas says.

  Six weeks should be more than enough time for me to check out Antioch and Constantinople and then get to Malta in time to rendezvous with our fleet. Randolph, Bob Farmer, Angelo, and Aaron will go with me and so will Peter Sergeant and Robert Monk.

  One of the three galleys I’m taking, mine because it will be going all the way to England, will carry two chests of coins secreted in its ballast – a king’s ransom in each chest so to speak. Each of the galleys sailing with Harold will also carry a couple of coin chests and as many paying passengers as we can cram on board. Evan is the sergeant captain of my galley.

  Hopefully our men won’t know about the chests and the pirates won’t find out. Our men are good lads but it would tempt them too much wouldn’t it?

  Randolph’s and Bob Farmer’s galleys will carry no coins since they will be returning to Cyprus or to wherever Randolph and Bob end up being stationed as the master sergeants. Where that will be is something we’ll decide while we’re in Constantinople.

  Some of our cogs may also sail to Malta with Harold’s galleys as escorts and perhaps on to England; but, of course, they’ll only join us on our voyage to England if they have sufficient cargos and paying passengers.

  Yoram thinks every galley and cog we decide to send will be oversubscribed. He says the initial response of the refugees on Cyprus has been tremendous. Some are offering tremendous sums to be carried all the way to France and England and all those who want to return to Europe see getting to Malta as being a major step towards getting further away from danger and closer to their homes.

  @@@@@

  Everything has changed. Randolph just told me that he really likes Beirut and would like to be the master sergeant in charge of our men and galleys if we set up an office or compound there.

  “It’s much nicer than Alexandria and I’ve been thinking about changing my mind about going back to England with you. I mean, there’s nobody back there for me, is there?”

  I’d never mentioned to Randolph my real reason for bringing him back from Alexandria – to be our master sergeant in Constantinople if we need one there. He’s always been our best man hasn’t he?

  “Well, you did splendidly in Alexandria and you’re certainly the man most qualified to set us up in a new port. That’s for sure. But I’ve heard good things about Constantinople too. Much better things, actually.”

  Then I explained to Randolph what I mean.

  “If I’ve heard right it’s bigger and there’s less fighting amongst the local people these days - that sort of thing.”

  And then we both laugh when I tease him by pointing to the luxurious and well barbered beard which is his pride and joy.

  “Besides, you’ll be safe even if Constantinople falls to the Saracens -because with that beard they’re not likely to recognize you as the Christian pirate you are.” It was a joke I made and we both roared: the Christian knights and their men have begun shaving their beards, probably because the Moslems don’t and it proves their blades are sharp.

  What isn’t a joke is that some of the crusaders think that anyone wearing a beard is a Moslem and kill him out of hand - and it is the crusaders who are coming to take Constantinople, not the Saracens.

  “Aye, I’ve heard the same. But I’ve seen Beirut and I like it. It’s a bird in the hand so to speak.”

  “Aye. You’re right about that and if it’s the Beirut command you want you shall certainly have it.” …. “By God, I’ve a thought. How about sailing with me next week when I go to look at the opportunities for us in Antioch and Constantinople? You could help me check them out and then go be the master sergeant in Beirut or wherever you choose.”

  @@@@@

  Three galleys row out of Limassol two mornings later. I’m in the big one with Evan as its sergeant captain and a crew of seven sailors and eighty eight Marine archers – one for each oar. Robert, Peter, and Aaron are with me and so, of course, is Helen. I’ve got the little captain’s castle and she and Lena fixed it up quite comfy with our own bedding and piss pot; Angelo and the others are sharing the bigger castle in the rear of the ship.

  I was not the only one who watched with a great deal of amusement and pleasure as Helen walks with a look of determination on her face down to the dock where the galley is docked – leading one of Henry’s donkey carts with and equally serious looking Lena and a great pile of bedding and pots and clothes piled on it. The women are obviously determined not to be denied and no one is about to stop them, certainly not me.

  Randolph and Bob Farmer are in command of the other two galleys. They have four less oars per side and are each sailing with seven sailors and only eighty Marines. Only my galley is carrying coin chests instead of rocks in its ballast space.

  In addition to its sailors and Marines each of our galleys is carrying two prize crews, one for a cog; the other for a galley. They’ll help with the rowing of our galley until we take some prizes – and that probably won’t be until after we leave Malta. But you never know, do you?

  We row out through the returning Limassol fishing fleet with many a wave and good cheer. There was a time early
on when the local fishermen viewed us as possible slavers to be avoided the way they avoided the Islamic pirates who used to raid hereabouts before we arrived. Not anymore; today we’re valued customers for all the fish we buy for Friday’s meals and a number of the local fishermen and their sons have signed on to join us as sailors and archer trainees.

  @@@@@

  The weather’s good and we row into the Antioch harbor five days later and even though there are only three galleys we cause quite a scare. It seems word has just reached the city that King Leo of Armenia is marching on Antioch with an army that includes the Knight Hospitalers.

  It seems there are conflicting claims to the city because the count who had been its previous overlord, a vassal of King Leo, died without an heir - fighting at Hattin for King Guy of Jerusalem, the very same King Guy who as the new king of Cyprus just tried to hold Yoram for ransom.

  As the local merchants tell us with much emotion and waving of hands, there is going to be a war because they and the rest of the city’s residents prefer a distant relative of their late ruler and refuse to acknowledge Leo’s right to name another of the late count’s distant relatives as their new ruler.

  Whatever its cause, the coming war over Antioch is a fine opportunity for us. We no more than tie up at the dock than we are besieged with people wanting to escape the city and the fighting that is coming - the Orthodox Christians want to escape to Constantinople; the Roman Christians to Cyprus or any place where the Roman religion is practiced; the Jews to anywhere safe; and everyone with coins wants to send some of them to safety so they won’t starve if they are forced to flee.

  There is no time to lose. I strip Bob and Randolph’s galleys of all but the minimum number of sailors and Marines and we begin collecting coins, lots of coins, from those who are willing to pay to flee to Cyprus. Both galleys will go back to Cyprus under new sergeant captains so Bob and Randolph can remain here with me. The passengers will do most of the rowing.

  I quickly write two parchments to Yoram describing the situation. He’s to immediately start sending refugee ships to Antioch as fast as they become available. One parchment will go on each galley to make sure my message gets through.