Hoodsman: Saving Princesses

by Smith, Skye

  Cospatrick visibly paled. "Forty pieces of silver."

  "Silver, you speak nonsense. The Danegeld was gold, stolen from all the alters of Lincolnshire." One of the men seemed to be about to say something, but then didn't. "I wonder if Malcolm now has all the alters of Northumbria." There was no answer. "So Scotland and Denmark are sitting back with treasure, while they wait for William and you lot to slaughter each other. They each have the same plan. Wait with their treasure and then finish off the winner of this shitty mess."

  Raynar looked around at the faces staring at him, and stopped at Cospatrick. "And you, sire. What do you have beside a camp full of sick men and a professional cavalry about to sweep down upon you. Break camp. Run for York and hope that Malcolm is close by."

  "It is too late to do anything today. The daylight is almost gone," said a voice from behind the men.

  "Listen," Raynar said and cupped his ear, "do you hear that?"

  Everyone was quiet to listen. "I heard nothing," said the same voice.

  "Exactly. It has stopped raining. The flood has long since peaked and is now on the wane. You will have the garrison at Pontefract trying to cross at Castleford tomorrow, and William will be riding fast from Loidis to cut off your retreat. Break Camp. Run for York. Run for your lives, and do it now. "

  "But the sick men?"

  "You killed them when you camped on this flood plain," Raynar’s voice was a harsh whisper. "The first rule of sleeping out is to stay dry. You broke it a thousand times over." He went silent while he pictured his maps in his mind. "It is over a dozen miles to Tatecastre, and ten more to York. If you can get everyone to the other side of the Wharfe at Tatecastre tonight, then you can defend that river, instead of this one, and either wait for Malcolm to relieve you, or hide behind York's walls."

  Some of the exiled lords decried Raynar's words as unproven, and possibly untrustworthy. They argued that this man spoke like a peasant and looked like a peasant and therefore was worthless, and his words were less than worthless. Cospatrick knew otherwise and ignored the calls of the exiled lords against this lad. He did not like Raynar, but Edgar's words about him came to mind. He was true. Too true. Cospatrick ordered his huscarls to begin planning the retreat and to get everyone moving tonight.

  Meanwhile Raynar went looking for the Earl's kitchen. One of the bowmen he had trained was standing guard with a pike in his hand and a bow across his shoulder. It took the guard a moment before he recognized the Byzantine bow and then he recognized Raynar and showed him where to find the best of the food.

  "How are the men?" asked Raynar meaning the other bowmen.

  "Half the camp is sick, and with the sickness and with the damp comes a sickness of spirit. We had the Normans on the run. We had them beat, and we were gathering here to cross the river and slaughter them when the floods came. We thought the flood would be finished in a night. We didn't expect three weeks of rain. We should have left when the Danes did. They saw no use in camping in the mud and headed back to their ships and supplies."

  "How many can still draw a bow?" asked Raynar as he motioned to the cook for some stew. The stew at Cospatrick's personal kitchen smelled like horsemeat.

  "Maybe twenty, maybe more," replied the bowman.

  "With horses?"

  "The horses are sick as well," the bowman explained.

  "When you finish your shift, assemble all those who can still draw a bow and have them each grab a healthy horse before anyone else beats them to it. Do it fast and we may save this army."

  One of the few things that the English earls were competent in, was in how to retreat quickly. The word went out to decamp, but to decamp quietly, so that the Normans across the river would not suspect. A force was immediately sent ahead to make sure the Roman street was clear and passable. It would be, because the Romans had built it on a slight ridge above the flood plain. They were to retreat and cross the River Wharfe. Meanwhile messengers on fast horses galloped off to find King Malcolm.

  The walking sick who could barely help themselves, never mind do the work of decamping, were the first roused and sent on their way. They were weak and thin and gray. If they fell out of the march, they would be left for the carts to pick up. Hundreds that were too weak to walk were left in the camp waiting for carts. Healthy men on healthy horses patrolled the street. Healthy men hitched carts to healthy horses and loaded it with the stores and spares and, only if there was any room left, the sick. As soon as a cart filled it started north. Behind each cart was a string of weak horses. They had rotting hooves and bloated bellies.

  Cooking fires were left burning as if the camp was still in use. Tents were left standing. They were too disgusting to pack in any case. The dead that had not yet been buried were left unburied. No one could dig graves because the water flooded them as they were dug.

  Raynar rode Horace to the flooded ford and looked across the river at Castleford. It was a dark night and he could see nothing other than the glow of cooking fires on the other side. He talked to the pickets but was angered by what he heard. For three weeks, while the Normans were in retreat and then weakened by William's ride south, no one in the English camp had suggested that they ride west to the first ridge of the Peaks and cross the bloody river there to outflank the Normans on the other side of this ford.

  Furiously frustrated, he rode back to find Cospatrick. The marquee was in a cart and the cart ready to leave. He called for the earl and heard a reply by the cart. This time no guards stopped him from saying his peace to the prince. "The last men to Tatecastre will arrive after daybreak. The Normans in Castleford will see the empty camp at first light and brave the ford. They will ride hard and catch the last of your army on the street and slaughter them."

  Cospatrick said nothing. He was calculating the cost of losing the weak and the sick, for it would be them who the Normans would catch up to first.

  "Assign your bowmen to me and I will hold the Normans at the ford for as long as I can. But mark, when they cross in numbers, we will run for our lives. We will not stop to protect the rear of the march. You must assign others to do that."

  Cospatrick did not look well. Perhaps he had the water sickness too. "Take them," was all he said. Raynar signaled to a guard with a bow to come close. "The prince has put all bowmen under my command. Go and fetch them to me.” The guard looked at Cospatrick and got the nod, and he was away.

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  The Hoodsman - Saving Princesses by Skye Smith Copyright 2010-13

  Chapter 29 - Holding the ford at Castleford, Yorkshire in November 1069

  Some places in the wrecked, damp camp beside the River Aire were dryer than others. The bowmen found some dry land with some relatively clean tents and slept until dawn. In the early light of day they mounted and rode the horses through the slop and the shit and the wreckage towards the actual ford. They were thirty-five in all. Each had a horse healthy enough to run.

  They led two spare mounts loaded with arrows and another mount loaded with caltrops. Each man carried the short and the long bow that Raynar had trained them with in Dun Holm. Along the way, young Raynar seconded a dozen pikemen who had been moving towards the ford to stand their watch. He sent a squad of bowmen to find horses for them.

  A Roman street led to the ford on each bank. With the flood the river was twice as wide and twice as deep as normal high water, but you could see from the mud and debris that the flood level was dropping. The water by the bank was running over the now bared stone of the street. Raynar dropped two caltrops onto the street so that they were under water. He felt for them with his boot. They were not moving with the current and not sinking into mud. He had three men scatter the caltrops in the shallows on the stones of the street.

  As soon as you stepped off the road bed of the street you were up to your knees in mud. There was debris lodged against the street that was now showing because the water level was dropping. Raynar had the men drag the debris onto the street to create a series of three
barricades. The only way a horse could go around the barricades was to lose their legs in the mud beside the road bed. Their own horses they left well behind the last barricade.

  Raynar called the men to him. "When they come they will be easy targets while fighting the current. We will stand at the water's edge. I do not want any volleys. I want each arrow to count. Your main target is the horse, not the man. The men will raise their shields in defense as soon as they see our bows. However if you hit the horse and it stumbles in that river, the men's armour will sink them. Target the leaders first. Target any that are giving orders. Target any that are trying to be heroes."

  The men nodded. This all made good sense. Skirmishers needed to understand the strategy so that when they got separated in the confusion of battle, they could use their own good sense.

  "Eventually, they will get across. The first across will be the first to have horses crippled by caltrops. By that time we will be shooting at short range. Shoot the man if you have a clean target, else shoot the horse. When their horses are in the caltrops, we retreat to the first barricade. When they reach that, then we retreat to the second, then the last.

  Each of the barricades will get wider with the bodies of horses. The street in front of each barricade will become dangerous with wounded horses. When they reach the third barricade, we go back to our horses, mount up and ride for our lives to Tatecastre. Do not look back. Do not stop to help the sick on the highway. They will need us at Tatecastre to defend that ford, as we did this one."

  He had the bowmen repeat the plan to each other and back to him, to make sure they had it memorized. Then he turned to the pikemen.

  "You pikemen. No heroics. The cavalry will try to go around the barricades. That will put their horses into deep mud. All we expect of you is to keep them from getting back onto firm ground again. Attack their horses. Poke them, slash them, and make them throw their riders into the mud. Do not get close to the riders or their lances."

  He looked around at the gray faces. These men all needed food and rest and warmth, yet they were some of the fittest men left in the English army. All because of the stupidity of their lords. "If we do this right, then all of us should make it to Tatecastre, and the bards will sing of us in the alehouses of Northumbria."

  There was nothing left to do but to hide behind the third barricade and wait. They could see activity on the other shore. Shouts and calls and commanders walking along the banks. Eventually the Normans seemed to realize that there was no longer an English army on the north side. That the camp had been deserted.

  A mounted man with no armour started accross the ford. He went slowly on a giant battle horse. In the middle of the ford the water reached to the mounted man's knees. The current was slow but there, and the pressure of the water was making the horse unsure of his footing. The bowmen just watched and stayed hidden. When the water became shallower on the horse, the man turned and made his way back. The Normans now had a guage of the depth.

  "You see," said Raynar, "he must pick his way. If he steps off the paved ford he will be in deeper water and mud. If they come in a tight group and we hit one of the horses, that horse will panic and push the other horses into deep water. The horses will swim for the bank, but with the weight of a man and armour they may go under. If the man slips off and tries to hold the tail and be pulled, the weight of his armour will drag him down and he will drown. "

  A conroi of ten heavy cavalry, fully armed and armoured, were now walking into the water. Raynar ordered the men to stay hidden unless he called for them. He strung his Byzantine bow and walked towards the water's edge and just stood there, alone, in front of the first barricade. When the horsemen were at the deepest place, Raynar loosed an arrow. It flew high. He had been spotted by the men on the other bank and they were yelling warnings to the horsemen who were raising their shields in front of them.

  Raynar calmed himself and loosed another arrow. It hit one of the lead horses, the one on the upstream side. The heavy arrow hit the horse hard in the chest. The horse screamed and tried to rear and turn at the same time. It pushed the other two lead horses sideways and downstream. One was swept slowly away from the ford by the current. The horse that had been hit was having trouble keeping on its feet and it was pushed into another. Now there were four horses in the current downstream from the ford.

  Raynar loosed again. The rear most riders were hurrying their horses forward to get to shallower water, while the front most riders were turning their horses to retreat. The arrow hit a front horse in the rump. It leaped and kicked and another three horses were swept away from the ford.

  The three riders left were trying to turn their horses, but were having difficulty in such deep water with the current. Each time the angle of the horse changed against the current, the horse had to dance to find its footing. One of them stepped off the ford and was swept away. Only two of the original ten made it back to the south bank.

  Raynar looked downstream at the heads bobbing in the flood. He could see only seven horses and only two men. He walked back to the barricade and sat with his men. "This could be easier than we thought." Everyone laughed, but not from relief, but from ragged nerves.

  The flood was definitely receding. After a quiet hour the caltrops were visible at the water's edge. After another quiet hour the Normans tried again. Raynar again walked alone to the waters edge. While he waited he kicked the caltrops further down the street and back into the shollows. The riders in midstream now had wet boots but dry knees. They were spaced out and the horses were moving faster than before. The latest conroi had but six riders.

  Raynar tried the same tactic and the right most lead horse took the first arrow in the chest. Its rider tried to turn it upstream but failed so he pushed himself out of his saddle and hung onto the saddle of the horse beside him. Raynar then hit that horse. The horse reared and both men fell. They tried to get to their feet but the horses behind them had not stopped and the flayling men got knocked down by the next horse. It was a trained battle horse and it began to bite and kick at them. The other riders returned to the bank. There was no sign of the two men who had been nocked down. The river had claimed them.

  Another quiet two hours passed. Raynar wondered if that were enough time for the English army. Four hours. Should he and his men leave now? Others said the same aloud. It was settled when one of them called out some good reasoning, "So long as it is this easy to stop them, we may as well stay and do damage to those knights. If it gets harder, we can leave anytime."

  The next time was harder. Raynar started alone, but the horses were now spread out and the water shallow enough for them to come at a half run. Raynar yelled for help almost immediately and the bowmen surged out from behind the barricade and each loosed an arrow. Most of the first arrows went high. Like Raynar they had aimed high so that if the arrow did not hit the horse it may hit the rider. Despite most arrows hitting only water, enough arrows hit the first five horses that the Normans again turned back.

  There was no need to hide any longer so they sat on the first barricade and watched the other bank. Another hour passed, and then they faced about forty riders all moving fast. They killed about a dozen horses, including all that made it to the shallows on their side. The rest retreated. Almost immediately there was another charge. This time ten horses made it all the way to the caltrops but then they went mad with the pain in their hooves.

  The bowmen were now standing behind the first barricade. Some of the riders in the shallows decided to dismount to continue on foot using their horses as a shield against arrows, but being on foot in front of injured battle horses was a bad idea. Eventually the dismounted warriors were forced to retreat into deeper water, but there they were in the way of the next charge coming from the south bank.

  The riders of this next charge tried to go around the dismounted men and made for the bank in the shallows on each side of the ford. The mud swallowed the legs of the horses, and the bowmen targeted the riders.

  There was now
a mass of men and horses in the ford. Though there were two more barricades to defend, Raynar wanted to keep his own promise to get them all to Tatecastre so he gave the order to keep moving back beyond the barricades and to the horses. The bowmen and the pikemen mounted up to ride away, but could not resist looking back at the mess they had made of the Normans in the ford. Even without them loosing arrows it would take many minutes for the first Normans to reach this bank. Then they all whooped in joy and relief and rode.

  There was no other fast way through the abandoned camp but the street, but as they got deeper into the camp they saw about sixty heavy cavalry to the west of them riding hard to head them off. Luckily for the bowmen the quagmire and a few very sick men got in the Normans' way. The Normans were slipping and sliding and slashing heads and it was slowing them to barely a walking pace. All the while the bowmen cantered along the street.

  By the time the Norman patrol reached the street, the bowmen were a half a mile ahead of them. They slowed and turned to take a good look around. There were riders coming up the street from the ford now. Some were riding through the tents and Raynar wondered how many sick were still lying in those tents. He looked at the grim expressions on the faces of his men.

  One of them said the obvious, "That other patrol must have crossed further upstream. If we hadn't left when we did they would have cut us off."

  They pushed their horses as hard as they could, but too often had to slow to a walk because of the ruined rock surface of the street, or to urge bands of stragglers to hurry. There were many stragglers. Hundreds. Too many for the carts. Too weak to walk the pace of any but the other sick. There were no healthy men riding post to protect the slowest men, and the bowmen did not volunteer. They knew the Normans were less than a half hour behind them. A lot of Normans. A lot of Normans with a fresh and deadly grudge against bowmen.

  After nine miles of riding directly north on the street they came to the cross of the highway that led from Loidis to Tatecastre. The street ran along the top of a low ridge so they could see mounted men in the distance coming from Loidis. There were so many of them and so far away that they looked like ants swarming across the land. While stopped on the local high ground, they looked out in every direction. All they saw was devastation. The were no crops, no women, no animals, no laundry, no anything that should be normal in this land of farmers.