Our young sergeant apprentices were quite keen and helpful as they fetched and scribed and ran errands for us as we required. Now our senior lieutenants could all make lists and send and receive written reports and orders. Hopefully the apprentices are learning by watching and listening to us so someday they can take our places. And now Thomas has assigned one of the next-oldest boys to George and each of the other young sergeants. He’s apprenticed them to the apprentices, so to speak.
The young lads proved their worth. George and his young helper talked to the arriving sergeant captains and added their galleys and cogs to the parchment list they were keeping for Harold along with the names of the sergeants who had sailed before them. That’s how we learned two galleys and a cog full of famine corn were missing and presumed lost with all hands. According to the list, they should have arrived weeks ago.
We don’t have a clue as to what happened to the missing prizes. It was most likely the weather or, possibly, pirates in the case of the cog.
******
Harold was spending all his time in the Fowey Village camp with my son George as his aide and apprentice and an even younger student of Thomas’s school as George’s helper. They were there to supervise the archers and sailors who were practicing to fight their way onto galleys and cargo transports and sail them away as prizes.
Archers of every rank, including me and my lieutenants so as to set an example, are required to engage in archery and land fighting practice every day except Sunday, even when we are aboard our galleys and cogs. Land-fighting practice when we are on our galleys is limited to small groups and swords and pikes. On land, such as where we are now, it additionally involves entire galley companies of archers and pike men walking in unison with the same step and changing the direction they are facing when a command is given.
Our archers and sailors are greatly excited by the assembling of all our men and galleys and their increased training. They think we are preparing them for a big prize-taking raid on some place that has galleys, such as a Moorish port like Algiers or for an invasion of Moorish Spain or perhaps Ireland or north to the Swedes. They know the French and English don’t have war galleys, so the only thing about which they are certain is France and England are not where they will be sent to fight.
******
The news that something big was in the wind had reached everyone, even our distant senior sergeants and post captains as far off as Cyprus and Alexandria. They knew it must be a big engagement because they and almost all of their archers and sailors had been summoned to England. Most of them were keen to come to Cornwall to find out what it was all about.
Randolph and Martin were among the first to arrive with their archers and galleys. They had sailed independently from Rome and from Athens’s port of Piraeus, and each was astonished to see the galley of the other in the harbour when they touched in Lisbon on the same day to take on water and supplies.
In the weeks that followed, more and more of our veteran sergeants rowed up the Fowey with their archers and all the able-bodied recruits and rowers they could find to bring with them. Thomas Cook, Andrew Brewer, and Little Matthew all came in from Cyprus. They had all taken to heart the order to bring every available man and weapon and leave only the smallest possible force to hold their posts and honour their contracts. Then, to my great surprise and delight, Andy Ander’s son sailed in with a galley and his archers and five chartered cogs full of high-quality corn all the way from Alexandria.
Brian, our fletcher sergeant, and Alan the smith and their seconds also came in from Cyprus. They sailed in four galleys and brought everything from their weapons works with them: tools, materials, and every fletcher and blacksmith, including some of the refugee women fletchers and their husbands from the fletching works and smithy located along the third curtain wall of our highly fortified Cyprus post. They apparently fletched arrows and pounded out arrowheads all the way from Cyprus and landed with a huge and greatly appreciated supply of both longs and heavies. Brian and Alan also brought over five hundred new bladed pikes and tens of thousands of finished arrows from our Cyprus arms warehouse.
The biggest surprise of all arrived two days after Thomas Cook and Matthew Little reached Cornwall—Yoram. He’d come to join us after leaving Simon in charge of Cyprus with a two year supply of food and firewood and strict instructions to always keep the gates barred and never, under any circumstances, let anyone inside the curtain walls or surrender.
I couldn’t believe it when I saw Yoram not thirty paces away, standing on the deck of a storm-battered galley as it made its way upstream to Restormel. I was with Peter at one of our new tent camps along the Fowey as his galley slowly rowed past me. I had been talking to a four-stripe sergeant captain, William Wood, about the archery training of his galley’s men when I saw him. I thought I must be dreaming.
“Yoram?” Saints above, it can’t be.” Is that you, Yoram?” I shouted.
Yoram waved excitedly and shouted back. A few seconds later, his galley nosed into the shore, and he threw its mooring lines to the willing hands of the men lining the riverbank. He couldn’t wait and neither could I. He jumped down into the ankle-deep shallows next to the riverbank, and I splashed out to him. We danced each other around and around in the chilly water like two frisky boys.
We splashed ashore arm in arm to the absolutely beaming smiles of several hundred archers. For some reason it seemed to greatly please the men that I was so happy and quick to recognize an old shipmate.
And I was truly pleased. My first and most important lieutenant after my brother Thomas had touched England for the first time in his life.
******
It was raining and quite chilly the next evening, but it didn’t bother us at all. We built a roaring fire, lit seven candles, and set more places than Restormel’s great hall had most likely ever seen. We had a great reunion meal with eleven of the original archers and the sixty or so lieutenants and four and five-stripe senior sergeants who had subsequently made their marks and risen with us. Even Harold and George’s student assistant came up from Fowey Village to join us and spend the night telling stories and greeting old friends.
My slashed face had been seen by many of those around the hastily extended table, and almost all the rest had heard about it. No one said a word about it, but a few inquired about my leg—more, I think, to commiserate or start a conversation rather than to actually hear about it. They know I’m doing well because they can see it. My beard covers the scar everywhere except alongside my eye, and my limp is just about completely gone except when it’s damp or I’m tired.
Overall it was an absolutely splendid evening. Helen and her sisters and the cooks outdid themselves with the fresh meat and drink. Everyone got their fill and then some. We had venison soaked in wine with onions and new ale.
I sat at the head of the long table and began by announcing that Randolph and Raymond would be putting on another stripe and henceforth be lieutenants, lifted a bowl to toast the king and then our friends who had fallen and our absent friends Henry and Simon. Then, to much laughter and cheers, I said that when and where and how we would be raiding the Moors to free their English slaves at the request of the Pope would have to be kept a secret—because too many of us, and particularly me, were drinking too much and we couldn’t afford to have the Moors find out and be waiting for us.
I saw Thomas and Peter nod their approval in silent understanding when I mentioned the Moors and the Pope’s request. The rest of the men took it quite seriously; at least I hope so, because that’s the story we want to get around.
It turned out to be a wonderful evening. I ended up roaring drunk and telling stories about our early days such as how Thomas and Yoram and I got the coins for our initial galleys by killing the murderous Bishop of Damascus—and how and where we’d first met Harold and Henry.
Chapter Twelve
William
Spring arrived and became a time of confusion and misunderstandings. It started when Giles,
the young student who recently made his mark on the company’s list as a sergeant along with George and three others, trotted up from the Fowey Village wharf bringing me a message from Robert Rougham and his wife in Exeter. The Earl of Devon had returned to Rougemont Castle on a French fishing boat. He was all by himself. His three noble travelling companions and their men did not return with him.
I decided the news was worth reporting to the king and William Marshal, if only to show our goodwill and the sincerity of our undertaking to keep them informed. I quickly scribed a parchment reporting his return. One copy travelled by a galloper from Restormel to Launceston to Okehampton, and then Raymond’s outriders carried it on to London via Windsor; the other by galley to London for delivery to Windsor or wherever the king was located at the time.
William Marshal and I had arranged for my messenger to stop at Windsor en route to see if the king or Marshal himself is in residence. If neither of them is there or nearby, the messenger is to continue on and deliver the parchment to Robert Heath, the sergeant in charge of our London shipping post, who will then see that it is delivered to Marshal. Marshal’s messages will be carried by a king’s messenger to Okehampton for one of Raymond’s outriders to deliver to me.
******
Two days later, a parchment arrived from Henry reporting Phillip’s order for all French transports and fishing boats with masts to assemble in the harbour of Harfleur no later than the first day of June, Harfleur being across the bay from Honfleur where Henry’s tavern is located. That was important news, and I promptly sent a message to Windsor both by galloper and via a galley. In it I also repeated the first message just in case it had not arrived. It was a good thing I did, because Raymond’s outrider who carried my first message from Okehampton about the return of the Earl of Devon had never arrived at Windsor and was never heard from again.
One thing is for sure; from now on, our messages sent overland will be carried every step of the way by more than one man, and every rider will be leading a fresh horse in case they are forced to run for it.
We now had a specific date, and everyone knew what it meant. Harold was quite relieved and rubbed his hands together in happy anticipation and relief when I told him the date.
That’s normal for fighting men in my experience. They don’t like waiting once they know there is going to be a fight.
******
William Marshal’s response to my second warning message came all the way from London by a fast-moving relay of the king’s gallopers. It contained an alarming message: The king now thinks the French will land somewhere near Exeter and join up with the barons there. In consequence, according to Sir William, the King is sending him and part of the king’s army to Ilchester to intercept the individual parties of barons travelling to Exeter. Additionally, and much worse, Sir Thomas Brereton and one hundred of the king’s men are to continue on and base themselves at Oakhampton in case the barons get past Marshal.
I immediately sent back a message to Sir William saying the king’s idea of intercepting the barons before they could assemble in Exeter was a good one. Unfortunately, however, Okehampton could not possibly feed Brereton and his men because of the famine. I suggested Taunton as a better location for Brereton and made much of the severe famine in this part of England. I told him Brereton and his men would have to bring their own food if he intended to base himself anywhere near Okehampton. Moreover, I added, the castle was now closed and would remain closed to everyone including Brereton and his men because of the ladies sheltering in it.
Of course I said the king’s idea is a good one. What else could I say? It would anger the king if I disagreed with him. Besides, it actually was a good idea. It’s just that we want to deal with the barons ourselves and keep the king and his men out of Devon and Cornwall.
Marshal promptly replied with a message of his own, saying Brereton and his men can’t use Taunton as their base because Peter des Roches holds the castle for the king and will also be trying to intercept the barons. It’s too late, he said, to change the king’s plan—Brereton and his men will continue on to Oakhampton after a brief pause in Ilchester to refresh themselves. King’s plan, my arse; it’s Marshal’s plan for sure. He’s the one commanding the army.
“You’ll just have to do the best you can to feed them,” Marshal wrote.
Reading between the lines of Marshal’s message, it sounded as though he thought Roches was wavering as a supporter of the king and may end up with the rebel barons. If that wasn’t the case, Roches would have welcomed Brereton’s men to Taunton as reinforcements to strengthen the forces assigned to intercept them. Alternately, of course, Roches may have already declared for the barons and raised his drawbridge so the king’s men cannot get in.
In any event, I quickly sent gallopers to Peter, Randolph, and Raymond with a long message explaining that the king’s army was moving this way and telling them what I wanted done—all the Horse Archers moved out of Okehampton so they can engage in mobile operations, siege supplies rushed to the castle, and all the local people evacuated to Launceston and Restormel. When Brereton arrives, I told my lieutenants, I want him to find no one except the archers who are holding the castle and won’t let him enter.
******
Peter Sergeant
I used to be William’s deputy, but recently I had taken Henry’s place as the commander of all our ground forces. I was in Fowey Village when I received William’s message. It stressed the importance of quickly getting more siege supplies to Okehampton and replacing the Horse Archers stationed there so they could function as mobile force. It was read to me by Giles, my sergeant apprentice from Thomas’s school.
My response was to send a galloper with a parchment ordering Jeffrey, the senior sergeant commanding the Launceston archers to leave ten of the sixty two archers at Launceston and lead the others on a forced march to Okehampton to replace Raymond’s Horse Archers.
“If Brereton’s and his men reach Okehampton before you arrive, Jeffrey, you are to march your men in through the Okehampton gate without stopping to parley with him, even if it means fighting your way past them.”
Even if Brereton and his men arrive before Jeffrey, I doubt they will know enough about our intentions to do any more than watch as Jeffrey marches his men right past him and into the castle.
At the same time, I sent gallopers to Okehampton explaining the situation and ordering Raymond’s Horse Archers to immediately ride for Restormel with their women and children and all the people in the countryside including those who had come for the famine food. He was also to move our horse herd and the local livestock all the way to Bossiney so they could not be taken or eaten by Brereton’s men. Ten of Raymond’s Horse Archers were to temporarily remain at Okehampton to hold it until Jeffrey and his archers arrived to relieve them.
With William’s approval I immediately ordered fifty of Restormel’s archers on a forced march to Launceston to replace the men who were on their way to Okehampton. I put them in horse carts with two-horse teams and told the drivers to take them as fast and far as their horses could go. When the horses were finished, the men were to march nonstop at their highest possible speed until they reach Launceston. William’s was right; we were in a race against time.
When this over we need to think about establishing a strong force of Raymond’s Horse Archers here at Restormel; we need a mobile force in this part of Cornwall in addition to having one across the river at Okhampton. The number of horses at our horse farm is growing, so we should soon be able to mount more men.
Raymond’s Horse Archers were also to immediately evacuate Isabel and Wanda to Restormel with a strong escort, but they are not to take action against Brereton or anyone else unless he actually attacks them or he makes an attempt to prevent our men from entering or leaving the castle.
I understood the situation, and I was in total agreement with William about sending Jeffrey and his Launceston archers to Okehampton and replacing them with archers from our camps along the
Fowey. William wanted to hold Okehampton and to have Raymond’s men and their horses outside its walls so they could act as the strongest possible mobile force.
According to William, the possibility of King John’s army trying to take the castle also meant we needed to quickly build up Okehampton’s siege supplies. The castle’s reserves have been greatly depleted to feed an unexpectedly large number of food seekers coming in from throughout famine-stricken Devon to provide their labour in exchange for food.
The castle’s siege stores need to be built up so it could withstand a long siege from anyone who tried to take it. We didn’t want the king or anyone else to get a foothold in or near Cornwall and certainly not on the only road between Cornwall and London. Even if it meant fighting the king’s men, we were not going to let Brereton’s men or anyone else enter or use Okehampton Castle. Similarly, we were not going to provide food for him and his men that would enable them to stay on our lands.
When Brereton and his men reached Okehampton, we wanted them to find nothing—no people, no food, and no castle they can enter and use as a base. It meant people fleeing from the famine in Devon in the future would have to travel on to Launceston or Restormel if they wanted to exchange their labour for food.
******
That same afternoon, Captain William and I were standing on the muddy river bank next to the floating wharf on the Fowey when Harold and his new helper sergeant and scribe, William’s son George, arrived on a cog being towed up the river by one of our galleys. They walked over to join us just as it started to rain.
Castling The King Page 9