Deus Militis - Soldiers of God

by Jonathan A Longmore

  De Capo turned as he heard the booming voice of FitzAlan shouting orders. The cross wall, the curtain walls and the drum tower were all substantially damaged and there was damage to the Keep but not enough to stop it being used as it had been for the past two hundred years. As he watched, he saw Sir Geoffrey and the remainder of his Templars dragging an empty cart across the bailey towards the main gate. A line of horsemen from Edwards’s army made their way across the bridge and cantered towards the east gate. He looked back at the Templars as they left the castle dragging the cart, ‘Where are they going?’

  Ranulf followed De Capo’s gaze, ‘Going to find their dead, Sir Geoffrey said he wanted to bury them properly.’

  ~

  By early evening a number of rebel prisoners had been caught and dragged back to the castle. They had been stripped and bound and they sat in a frightened huddle guarded by Royalist soldiers from Prince Edwards’s army as wooden blocks were prepared for the punishment to be meted out without mercy.

  Some horses had been recovered and with the spare horses supplied by the prince there were enough to replace those still missing. The saddles and rest of the tack had been removed to the Keep by the stable boys before the castle had fallen, and slowly the knights and mounted men at arms prepared to leave with the army to meet the rebels in the field.

  The Templars had dug up their comrades and re-buried them in the consecrated ground of the cathedral, under the watchful eye of the Bishop who had given them their last rites after death. Blanche had been moved and her body placed in a hastily built coffin and taken to the Cathedral where it was guarded by four knights from Prince Edward’s army. From there she would be taken to her father’s private chapel in Sussex and interred in the family crypt.

  The following morning the task of rebuilding Rochester would start and Sir Roger spent several hours preparing plans and orders for the suburbs and the interim repair of the castle walls. Prince Edward had delayed leaving until the next day and a feast was arranged in the Great Hall to celebrate the success of the garrison against the Barons. The bridge was guarded both ends and what remained of the city guards were back on the walls, alert and tired but thankful their part in this war was probably over. Torches and fires were lit all across the castle and the city, and twenty pigs and twenty sheep were slaughtered and distributed to the army and the survivors of the city population. That first evening after the siege the smell of roasting pork and mutton filled the air.

  So did the screams!

  Prince Edward was a tall man and his stature had earned him the nickname of Longshanks. He was a renowned leader of men and a ferocious fighter. He was also the son of the King of England and heir to the throne and he had no time for traitors. One by one the prisoners were dragged to the wooden blocks to have their hands and feet cut off, they were then hung by the neck on hastily erected gallows and left to bleed to death in horrific pain. The lucky ones died quickly! The screams stopped as quickly as they had started.

  In the great hall the victory feast was a sombre affair and the talking was muted as they remembered their friends who had fallen. Prince Edward sat talking quietly to his cousin Sir Henry, Sir Roger and Sir John de Warenne. The absence of de Capo who had chosen to spend the evening in the cathedral next to Blanche’s coffin was apparent by the empty chair.

  At Midnight the bells were struck and de Capo stood and lifted the lid of the coffin and stared down at Blanche’s face for one last time. He replaced the lid and turned his back on her, walked out of the cathedral and made his way back into the castle. As he crossed the outer bailey he passed the tortured men hanging in their naked dozens, rubbing against each other as their bodies moved gently in the breeze. The hands and feet cut off made hideous piles of bloodied flesh rotting in the dust, and in the morning the bodies would be cut down and dumped in a pit and the hacked off limbs thrown in with them. Dogs barked at the smell of the blood and the festering flesh while Erasmus and the monks knelt in the chapel and prayed silently for the souls of the husbands, fathers and sons who died for other men’s reasons.

  ~

  De Capo followed the wagon that carried Blanche’s coffin across the bridge and men watched silently from the walls and the Keep. The work of clearing up stopped out of respect for the woman the castle garrison had named the Lady in White, after the white flowing robes she had been dressed in for her final journey. The silence was broken only by the sound of the wheels of her carriage as it crossed the damaged bridge. Even the birds had fallen silent, an event which had not gone unnoticed by anyone and one that would be talked about for a long time. The priests would claim it was a sign from God who had silenced the birds and the beasts as a mark of respect; that the pigs still squealed and the sheep still bleated was conveniently forgotten.

  The entourage crossed slowly, each person walking with their own thoughts. Evelyn accompanied de Capo and behind them walked Erasmus and Ranulf. As the Constable of the Castle and Sheriff of Kent Sir Roger was the Kings representative and with Sir John walked in front of the wagon. Ahead of them walked the Bishop of Rochester and four of his priests while Henry stood on the opposite bank with Prince Edward and men of the Royal army as an honour guard. FitzAlan and Sir Geoffrey stood on the west curtain wall and watched in silence with the rest of the men, and the bell of the cathedral chimed slowly.

  For de Capo, the walk across the bridge was endless, but eventually they crossed to the opposite bank and he said goodbye to Sir John, who together with men he brought to Rochester with him would escort Blanche to her final resting place. Evelyn would travel on the wagon and she and Ranulf said their farewells separately.

  ~

  De Capo stood on top of one of the Keep towers and looked in all directions. Ranulf stood with him and squinted in an attempt to see any sign of de Chauvigny, ‘Perhaps Henry could travel north with us.’

  De Capo stared across the landscape, ‘Perhaps,’ he turned to Ranulf, ‘how much does he know?’

  ‘He knows nothing about this scroll, only that de Chauvigny is on a quest to get his revenge against you.’`

  ‘And he believes that?’

  ‘He has no reason not to,’ Ranulf said, ‘it’s the truth; I just failed to mention the whole truth.’

  ‘The King needs Henry and his men,’ de Capo replied, ‘I’m surprised he allowed you to join me.’

  ‘He doesn’t own me Ralf, and as much as it hurts me to say this to you now, there is Evelyn.’

  De Capo remained silent for a while as he stared across the countryside to the south, ‘I understand,’ he finally said, ‘if you have what Blanche and I had no man will be able to stop you being with her.’

  ‘When do we leave?’

  ‘We don’t,’ de Capo said, ‘not yet.’

  Ranulf was confused, ‘But Erasmus believes we are leaving within days!’

  ‘We wait,’ de Capo turned and gave a hint of a smile, ‘he is out there, watching and waiting, so let him wait.’

  ~

  Erasmus was furious as he paced around in the outer bailey, constantly turning to de Capo and glaring at him. He finally stormed back to de Capo, his hands trembling with anger, ‘De Chauvigny has gone, they have all gone, how long do we wait?’

  De Capo looked around at the men who were clearing up the detritus of battle, ‘De Chauvigny has not gone and we wait until I say we wait no longer.’ He looked down at Erasmus who he had never seen so angry before, ‘Be patient Father, I have my reasons.’

  ‘You have your reasons!’ Erasmus looked around frantically as he realised he had shouted. Several men nearby turned to look at him and he moved closer to de Capo and spoke in a trembling voice, ‘Would you care to share those reasons with me?’

  ‘No,’ de Capo spoke bluntly, ‘you do not need to know.’

  Erasmus was apoplectic, and he hissed venomously at de Capo, ‘It is because of me you are here…I am the guardian of this scroll, you are here to protect me and escort me to my Monastery, if we need more men I can pa
y them, but if there are reasons we are not leaving here I demand to know!’

  ‘Be patient father,’ de Capo looked up at the sky which was blue with a scattering of clouds, ‘God graces us with good weather, but I suspect not even he knows my reasons, and if he does not know, there is no reason for you to know.’

  ‘Is the scroll safe?’

  ‘It is safe,’ de Capo replied, ‘do you wish to see it, or is my word good enough?’

  ‘I don’t doubt your word,’ Erasmus retorted, ‘but I do doubt your reasons.’

  ‘You don’t know my reasons,’ de Capo said with a smirk.

  ‘Your stubbornness does not befit your station!’ Erasmus turned and walked briskly towards the Keep muttering angrily to himself.

  ~

  Two days later the army of Prince Edward made its way out of the east and south gates and wound like a serpent across the hills south west towards Tonbridge. Henry and his men went with the Prince and Richard of Farley Street went with them after being approached by Henry himself to join him. Ranulf bid Henry and his men farewell amid the usual banter of men who had bled together, but now parted uncertain if they would see each other again. By the time the last of Edward’s army had disappeared from view, Rochester had become an open city once more.

  What remained of the dry wood buildings were blackened stumps lay at disorganised angles like fingers pointing accusingly at anyone who passed by. The skyline that used to exist could only be imagined by those who had never passed through in peaceful times. The city was slowly being cleared of the debris of war, and men were shouting orders as the long task of reconstruction of this once proud centre of commerce started.

  The cathedral hadn’t managed to escape completely unscathed and the Bishop, identified by his grand robes, his gold cross and the deference people were showing to him, strutted about pointing at the damage caused to the walls and the windows. The stained glass was inordinately expensive to replace had been shattered in numerous places. A rock that deflected off the Keep had flown across the baileys and struck a corner of the building causing a huge crack that threatened to give way and collapse the roof.

  Now the fighting had stopped it was clear the castle hadn’t fared much better, and a number of the crenulations on the curtain walls had been struck and dislodged. Several had fallen into the defensive ditch since the siege ended and others sat precariously, waiting to fall with the possibility of causing further damage. The Keep still stood tall and proud, but the hammering it had taken for nearly a week was clearly evident by the superficial damage to the great stone blocks of the structure. Men in the towers still stood and watched in all directions. The royal standard and that of the Sheriff of Kent fluttered in the wind, evidence the castle was still controlled by the King of England.

  Artisans of all trades were starting to arrive in the city, stonemasons, carpenters, blacksmiths, coopers, potters, and tanners were amongst them as news of the destruction started to circulate in all directions. They were all sent to the castle, their details, and skills and pay recorded before they were assigned tasks either in the castle or the city.

  Accompanied by Ranulf, de Capo walked around the curtain wall deep in thought.

  ‘Erasmus keeps pressing me for answers,’ Ranulf said, ‘for a man of God he has little patience.’

  De Capo seemed not to hear and he stopped and stared across the river. He placed both hands on the crenulations and sighed as looked down into the rippling water.

  Ranulf was concerned and placed a hand on de Capo’s shoulder, ‘Ralf?’

  De Capo looked up and turned his head away from Ranulf’s gaze. He stood upright and looked back across the river.

  Ranulf understood, ‘Blanche?’ he asked.

  De Capo nodded, ‘Aye, Blanche, she disturbs my thoughts constantly, enough to influence my decisions,’ he turned to Ranulf, ‘you must intercede if you believe my judgement has been affected!’

  Ranulf looked into the eyes that were moist and he nodded, ‘You have my word.’

  De Capo gave a small nod in acknowledgment and started to walk towards the main gate tower, he looked into the bailey as a group of men were being escorted to the Keep to make their mark and be assigned work in the rebuild of the city, ‘A time for strangers,’ he said.

  ‘A time for danger,’ replied Ranulf, ‘any of these men could belong to de Chauvigny.’

  ‘You’re right,’ de Capo said as he stopped and stared across the city at all the people working to rebuild it, ‘I should have realised that…..I only know de Chauvigny and de Balon, and he is unmistakeable with the scar across his face; but I’m hoping Erasmus will be able to point any of his men out, he seems to know most of them.’

  ‘I’ll walk round with him; it will keep him occupied and maybe we can find a companion for Bradyn.’

  ‘I promised him a quick death,’ de Capo said, ‘yet there is something about him that intrigues me, reminds me of another man.’

  ‘Anyone I know?’

  ‘His name is Leopold,’ de Capo explained, ‘de Chauvigny’s man in Acre, he was my enemy and ended up as my ally.’ He looked at Ranulf, ‘These are strange men we are fighting, if you find one strike first.’

  Ranulf nodded and de Capo turned and stared across the water again as Ranulf went to find Erasmus.

  De Capo was alone on the wall with no one close enough to hear him speak. He looked angrily up at the sky, ‘I will have my revenge for Blanche’s death,’ he hissed, ‘but you Lord, you took my child, and one day we will have a reckoning!’ With that he spat over the wall, turned and made his way back towards the Keep.

  Chapter Thirty Five

  It was nearly ten days since the siege ended and the City was already rising from the ashes, literally, as the abundance of workers, skilled in various crafts worked from daybreak to nightfall to rebuild what had been destroyed on de Capo’s orders. The weather had turned for the better since the truce. The Bishop insisted Heaven and all the angels were once again smiling on Rochester for suffering the misery of death and destruction on behalf of the King, who had been anointed by God.

  Bradyn shielded his eyes from the light cast by the torch de Capo held, ‘Who is it?’ he asked. De Capo remained silent as he lit two more torches and Bradyn looked through his fingers as his eyes became accustomed once more to something other than the pitch black he had been left to suffer in, ‘De Capo?’

  ‘Who else would bother to come down to this turd stinking hole?’

  Bradyn coughed, ‘You’ve come to keep your promise?’

  De Capo knelt in front of Bradyn with a torch held to one side, ‘Do you want to live or die?’

  Bradyn squinted in the flickering light, ‘I’m an assassin and a spy, why would you let me live?’

  De Capo looked at Bradyn’s face, swollen and bruised with dried blood down the front of his undershirt. A lump of bread and cheese lay on the floor nearby to a bucket of water that he could only drink from by using his hands. He was unable to reach the ladle and de Capo could see his lips were cracked and parched, ‘You look thirsty but you have water!’

  Bradyn tried to smile and winced as his lips split, ‘I would rather die of thirst than drink that infested piss!’ De Capo turned and looked into the bucket, quickly turning away when he saw the rank liquid with human waste floating on the top, ‘I am being held responsible for your lady’s death’ Bradyn explained, ‘some of the guards think it amusing to fill it from the cesspit.’

  De Capo stood and removed the bucket to the steps leading up to the door before returning to Bradyn with the ladle full of clean water, ‘It’s your choice if you stay here.’

  Bradyn took hold of the ladle and held it to his mouth, sipping slowly. He rubbed water onto his lips and closed his eyes as he savoured the cool, refreshing liquid. After nodding his thanks, de Capo took the ladle from him and refilled it. This time he drank quicker, ‘You didn’t answer my question,’ Bradyn said once he finished swallowing.

  ‘I’m not here to
answer your questions,’ de Capo said firmly, ‘I’ll ask once more, do you want to live or die?’

  Bradyn’s eyes gleamed defiantly, ‘If the price of life is betraying my oath and my comrades, I choose death!’

  ‘I would expect nothing less,’ de Capo raised an eyebrow, ‘but I am not asking you to betray anyone, all I want is your word, as a knight of the Imperial Order of Jerusalem you will not try and escape.’

  Bradyn stared into de Capo’s eyes, ‘I heard the men in Acre respected you as a man of honour, when they should have been trying to kill you.’

  ‘They tried once, de Capo replied, ‘and failed….now, life or death?’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Bradyn said, ‘but I choose life and you have my word.’

  ~

  ‘He wants to meet you.’

  De Chauvigny looked at Bradyn suspiciously, ‘He knows who you are?’

  Bradyn nodded and glanced at de Balon and the rest of the men. Their initial greeting of pleasure after he arrived quickly became one of mistrust, ‘He gave me the pleasure of his fist and the dungeon.’

  ‘And yet you still live,’ de Chauvigny said suspiciously, ‘why?’

  ‘He needed me to bring you a message.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘He is offering you a chance to take the scroll,’ said Bradyn.

  The silence was palpable as everyone stared at him.

  De Balon broke the silence as he tried to intimidate Bradyn by moving within striking distance, ‘You are lying….this is a trick!’

  De Chauvigny raised his eyebrows at de Balon’s aggressiveness and waited for Bradyn’s response, ‘Well?’

  ‘I believe him,’ Bradyn snarled into de Balon’s face, ‘I have spent the last three days with him, unchained, and I have watched him and listened to what he has said.’

  ‘So you are his friend now are you?’ de Balon sneered.