Then it happens. In a trice an absolute stream of arrows and rocks pour from ramparts on to the men gathered below. I can’t see them come down at this distance, of course, but I can certainly see the sudden reaction of the men who must be receiving them.
And a lot of the arrows on the north side seem to be being directed at the Earl and his horse – I think that is what is happening because there seems to be a particularly great amount of confusion in the area where Baldwin and his knights have been sitting on their horses. Most of the horses are down or staggering except for one that is running off without a rider. All the men at the walls with shields have them up.
“Charge,” I shout as loudly as I can as I point my longbow toward the castle and the men around it. “Charge.”
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We burst out of the trees as a great mass of men and begin running towards the battle going on in front of us. There are a few shouts but they soon end as we begin trotting towards the castle. We’ve practiced this before and we know need to save our breaths for the run and the fighting that will follow. At least, praise the Lord, it looks like we’ll significantly outnumber the castle’s attackers.
I’m moving well and most of the men are staying up with me. That’s good because we want to crash into the Baldwin’s men in one great irresistible mass. And like everyone else I’m wearing a sailor’s cap and carrying a little shield in addition to my bow and two quivers; one with longs and one with heavies.
A couple of our men are way out in front of us. They are clearly racing each other to be the first to engage. They must have very good legs and very small minds because they are moving ahead despite the orders to move together and spread out. And as I look back I can see a few of our men lagging behind.
Damn. Another mistake. I should have placed a steady man back there to chivvy them along and take the names and kick the arses of those who are deliberately avoiding the fight.
Generally things are going well. At least so far. Our men are following their sergeants and spreading out as we move towards the castle. That’s good because our plan is to sweep around the castle and the men at its walls like the horns of the ox - so the men gathered at the castle wall are inside the horns and can’t escape, particularly the Earl.
Unlike Thomas who will wait to the last moment so Baldwin isn’t warned away, I’ve already put a bounty on him – ten silver coins and a gold bezant for the man who kills him.
We are still some distance from the castle and moving fast when the Earl’s men begin to see us and begin to become alarmed. Our arrival is obviously unexpected and they don’t know what to do.
The indecision of Baldwin’s men doesn’t last long. One after another they begin to scatter and run. Some of them even run soon enough and fast enough to get away before the horns of our attack close around them. A few foolish souls even turn around as if they’re going to stand and fight. But then they too begin to run.
Among the early runners attempting to escape are a couple of knights in armor who are somehow able to swing themselves on to their horses. One of them gallops away safely through the shower of arrows and rocks falling on the crowd of panic stricken men but the horse of the other suddenly goes down.
I’m puffing and have a pain in my side by the time I finally reach the pile of dead and wounded men on the ground where I’d last seen the Earl and his mounted retinue. And there he is. Baldwin is in the middle of a pile of men and horses on the ground – deader than a plucked chicken in the cook’s pot.
He is seriously dead and there is no half way about it. Thomas obviously had every archer shoot at Baldwin as soon the fighting starts and keep shooting. Baldwin’s armor didn’t save him - he and his horse and the ground and men and horses closest around him have the crossbow bolts and the arrows of our strongest longbow men sticking out of them everywhere. Their metal tips will go through chain mail don’t you know? He and his horse look like one of those little cushions with pins it that I saw in the Damascus market.
Thomas’ archers obviously continued to shoot at the Earl long after he died. Of course they did. Thomas wanted to make sure of him so he obviously did what he’d said he intended to do – lead our best archers to where the Baldwin is approaching the wall and shout out a promise of a silver coin for every arrow or bolt he pulls out of the Earl or his horse. No doubt some of them are from Thomas himself but there are so many it is likely some of the men will get a good handful of coins. And worth every penny isn’t it?
We’ve got what we want and there is no doubt about it - Cornwall needs a new earl.
“Stop killing. Take prisoners” …. “Stop killing. Take prisoners.”
@@@@@
Thomas waves down to me from the castle ramparts and a few minutes later the castle gate opens. He comes out with some of his men and a big grin on his face. He’s very excited with an urge to talk as we shake hands and clap each other on the shoulder. All the men are as excited as he is and so am I. Everyone is talking at once.
“Well we got the bugger didn’t we?”
“Aye. That we did, Thomas. That we did.”
“Well then. Let’s see to the prisoners. Are you still going to let them go home if they pledge their liege to you? I hope so. First thing tomorrow I’ll say prayers over all the dead, theirs and ours and then go with you to Restormel Castle. ”
And that’s what we do.
@@@@@
Our review of the battle is not pretty as we walk together and talk that night after dinner. We made a lot of mistakes and we know it. Thomas called me to task and rightly so.
“We won big but were damn lucky to do so. What if Baldwin had kept his wits and had a reserve come in behind us once you’d spread out your men and commenced your attack? We would have been the ones slaughtered. Or what if he’d crossed the river somewhere else and he’d showed up before I had time to send for you? Or what if he had trained his men so they had turned from the castle walls and faced your wild charge in a steady formation?”
“Aye, Thomas. You’re right. We took some big risks and I made a really big mistake by not holding back a reserve force. And we should have had more spies and horsemen out there to warn us in case Baldwin had come another way. And more horses; we should have had many more horses, so we could move our men about faster.”
“Well done is done and we were lucky the Earl was so inept, God rest his useless soul. Now what?”
“Why now we get ourselves off to Restormel Castle and help John and Richard find a new lord for Cornwall and maybe a new bishop for the county as well.”
Chapter Three
Thomas and I see to our wounded and then we move around from campfire to campfire joking with our men as they begin celebrating their victory by roasting sheep from Trematon’ flock. Everyone is excited and happy – both for our victory and because in the morning many of the men will be going on with us to the late Earl’s seat at Restormel Castle. Later this afternoon Thomas and I will have a more private victory dinner in the castle with Lady Dorothy and the equally excited children. We’ve been promised lamb chops and new cheese.
By noon the next day the dead are buried and Thomas and I are on horses and riding towards Restormel Castle at the head of a column of hundreds of our men. A number of wagons carrying our tents and unused supplies are traveling on the cart path with us.
Not all of our men are in our column, of course; a goodly number are remaining at Trematon to guard the castle and our prisoners and care for the wounded.
It is an interesting trip along a well-worn footpath and several times we see men running across the fields and through the woods. They’re probably escapees from the Earl’s defeated army trying to get home. We pay them no mind and wish them well. Indeed, a few of them actually come to us and join our ranks when we happily shout and wave them in.
Without exception those who join us are hungry and unarmed - serfs and churls who were with Baldwin to fulfill their obligations. They apparently came in because we shouted at them to jo
in us and they’re used to following orders.
Restormel Castle comes into sight the next morning as we wade across the River Fowey. It’s quite an impressive sight and Thomas and I are taken aback when we first see it in the distance on the high land overlooking the river.
As a castle Restormel is just plain different - it’s perfectly round and it’s perched up on a great mound of earth so that the whole surrounding countryside can be seen in every direction.
There’s also a fairly sizeable village next to the castle and it’s right on the cart path we’re traveling. No doubt that’s where some of the castle’s farmworkers and servants live.
When we get closer we can see that the castle is as strong as it looks. Around its high stone curtain wall is a moat with a drawbridge - and around the whole of it including the moat is a second great circular earth and timber curtain wall and second moat and drawbridge. Both drawbridges are up.
“Getting us in there by force is not going to be easy. So it’s a task for me to handle by myself as a bishop.” Thomas tells me with a grin.
“You and the men stay here while I go forward.”
@@@@@
I’m by myself as I ride slowly up to first drawbridge. “Hello the castle,” I shout. “I’m Bishop Thomas. Let me in.”
Nothing happens so after a while I dismount and take a piss. Then a couple of faces appear on the wall above the gate. I’m just shaking my dingle when the gate opens a crack and a man in clothes of a field worker slips out and the gate quickly closes behind him.
“I’m Bishop Thomas. I have news about the Earl. Let me in,” I once again shout across the moat.
“The Earl’s dead” is the shouted rely.
“Of course he’s dead. He went against Prince John didn’t he? And I know he’s dead for sure. I buried him and said the prayers, didn’t I? Now open the gate and let me in. I need to talk to whoever is in charge of the castle. Is that you?”
“Of course, not. Sir Miles is the Constable.”
“Well take me to him man. Get on with it. And get me bowl of water while you’re at it. I’m thirsty, aren’t I.”
“Sir Miles is not here. He’s with the Earl.”
“If he’s with the Earl he’s dead I probably buried him and said the words for him too. Who’s in charge here at the moment? Is it the Earl’s wife?
“Not her. She’s run off to her father this morning, hasn’t she?”
Then a voice hails me from the top of timber wall next to the drawbridge.
“Who are you and what do you want?”
“I’m Bishop Thomas. I’m here for Prince John and I want to talk to whoever is in charge of the castle.”
“That’s me. Robert. I’m the Constable’s sergeant.”
“Well drop the bridge and open the gate Robert Constable Sergeant. We need to talk.”
“I have my orders from the Earl himself to keep it closed. I darest not. No offense to you Bishop.”
“None taken. None taken. But the man who gave you those orders is dead and buried. So they no longer apply. I’m here with Prince John’s new lord for the castle, Lord William. If you don’t open the gate to him in the next five minutes you’ll be guilty of a treason most foul against your sovereign and you’ll be excommunicated before you are executed and burn forever in hell. Now open the gate and save yourself.”
A few minutes later and down comes the drawbridge and the gate opens.
@@@@@
Our men are pouring into the castle as Thomas addresses the Constable’s sergeant and a small group of Baldwin’s retainers gathered in the castle’s great hall. There are enough men here to hear his message. They’ll soon spread the word.
“Prince John sent Lord William, this man right here by my side, to take the Earl’s place at Restormel Castle. I’m Bishop Thomas and I’m here representing Prince John.”
It’s all ox shit, of course. Prince John wouldn’t know Thomas even if he leaped up and bit him in the ass. But that’s what Thomas tells the wide-eyed sergeant and the castle workers including a couple of the survivors of Baldwin’s attack on Trematon who’d already made their way back to the castle. Must of run all the way, didn’t they?
Not everyone is so easily gulled. The local priest comes bustling in from the church inside the castle grounds and barely pauses long enough to hesitantly kiss Thomas’ ring before he starts asking questions. He’s apparently the second or third son of a minor lord with a manor near Truro and full of himself.
Ten minutes later he’s in full flight back to his church to organize prayers for all those who died when the treasonous earl attacked Edmund’s poor widow.
Restormel’s priest stops asking questions and leaves right after Thomas ignores him and proceeds to explain to the little gathering that I as their new lord am obliged by Prince John to take the head of anyone who supports the dead Earl’s treasonous behavior. That does not apply and will not apply, Thomas assures them as I nod in solemn agreement, to good vassals such as themselves who loyally supported the dead Earl because he was their liege lord and will similarly pledge and honor their liege to Lord William as the new lord of Restormel.
Loyalty and adherence to tradition are important to both Prince John and Lord William and will be rewarded, Thomas explains as I once again nod my head in solemn agreement.
Tradition is important be damned. I’ll not have my son a serf as Thomas and I were berthed just because serfdom is an “English tradition and supported by the church” as I once heard Richard say when we were sitting around a campfire at Acre.”
An exception will be made in the case of the local priest, Bishop Thomas assures his listeners - since he not one of the late Earl’s vassals, and is obviously a man of the cloth; he’ll be burned if he is not loyal to Restormel’s new lord.
I smile and nod as I listen. Thomas is bending the truth, of course, as a man must sometimes do.
Chapter Four
Life at Restormel slowly regains normalcy in the fall and early winter. Revenge and recriminations do not occur. To the contrary, the old Earl’s vassals, every single one of them from the two surviving knights to the tenants and serfs who work for them and the knights who fell with Baldwin, learn they will not be prosecuted for being the loyal vassals of the late Earl. Everyone is assured that Prince John and Lord William value such loyalty and will reward it.
I also pass the word that it will be instantly fatal if I ever find a slave in Cornwall or a serf is not allowed to make his mark and become one of my men or join the Company of Archers.
What I don’t tell them is that in a few months when things settle down the serfs will also all be freed.
@@@@@
It’s a busy time. Harold sends a messenger from Falmouth reporting that several of our ships, both of the galleys, are back in port and returned loaded with seasick recruits who are as hungry as wolves and quickly recovering. He’s heard of our victory at Trematon and wants to know if it’s now okay for the men and Sir Percy to go ashore.
We decide that Thomas will stay at Restormel and that I’ll ride straightaway to Trematon to get George and then on to Falmouth to give Harold his orders and make sure he got my orders to set Sir Percy free.
Of course I’m going to ride; the channel’s much too rough to take small boat down the River Fowey and try to row to Falmouth; we might get blown out into the Atlantic and take weeks to get back or worse.
Before I leave we make a number of decisions. One is to make Restormel our headquarters for the winter and perhaps permanently. It is, after all, obviously much more defensible than Trematon. Another is to move the ships from the River Fal to the River Fowey so they’ll be closer to Restormel. The Fowey runs nearby even though it is much too shallow this far upstream to get even the galleys all the way up to Restormel.
@@@@@
William is off to Trematon and Falmouth by the time the Abbot and a couple of monks from the Bodmin monastery arrive to kiss my ring. Rufus, the Bodmin Abbot, has heard that Restormel has a
new lord and he’s here with his brother monks because he wants the land back that Baldwin’s predecessor expropriated and “the evil Lord Baldwin refused to return despite it being stolen most foul.”
Abbot Rufus is sure that I as a distinguished bishop of the church understand the monastery’s needs and will do the right thing by helping the Abbot convince William to return his lands.
“Oh yes. I do understand. I do indeed. I’ll certainly help,” I assure the Abbot and his delegation.
Monks are useless thieves and no mistake; kept me mum and me hungry with their demands for food to get their prayers didn’t they?
Bodmin’s monks are no more than out the door and severely disappointed by William’s absence when the Archdeacon of Cornwall shows up. He’s come all the way from Exeter and wants lands and money “for the perpetual prayers of the church.”
The archdeacon is absolutely astonished to be greeted by a bishop with a ring to kiss but he’s obviously a fast thinker. He’d heard about my appointment but hadn’t realized I was already here. He’s arrived intending to relieve Baldwin of his sins by accepting coins and land in exchange perpetual prayers for him in the local monasteries and churches.
He quickly changes his tune when he discovers the Baldwin is neither among the living nor greatly lamented. Without missing a beat he suggests a donation to the church, which he would be happy to accept, for the prayers needed to “consecrate” the new lord and enlist God’s help in carrying out his duties.
Alas, I inform him with appropriate sorrow and sincerity, “it’s a pity Earl William did not know you were coming to Restormel or I’m sure he would have waited to greet you and accept your generous offer. But I’m sure you’ll be most pleased to know that I’ve already consecrated Lord William in his new responsibilities and prayed extensively with him for his success.”
“But more prayers never hurt do they, Archdeacon, and I’m sure he’d want them. Unfortunately you’ve just missed him. Lord William is off to Trematon and Falmouth to see after his affairs. Perhaps you can find him there and pray with him.” Though pigs will fly before you’ll get a penny or an acre from either of us.
The Archer's Castle: Exciting medieval novel and historical fiction about an English archer, knights templar, and the crusades during the middle ages in England in feudal times before Thomas Cromwell Page 5