“Greetin’s, Milord,” said the knight who pushed himself to the front of the pack.
Robert nodded.
“Not expectin’ ye ‘til late tonight, Milord,” said the knight.
“Made better time than figured,” said Robert stopping his horse. “That Lord William in the chair.
“‘Tis, Milord,” spoke the knight in a hushed tone of voice.
“How was he killed?” questioned Robert when he saw no movement from the back of the chair.”
“Hain’t dead, Milord,” relayed the knight. “Asleep, he is.”
Robert loudly growled, “Wake the bastard up!”
It was as Robert had intended, Sir William was awakened by his loud voice.
He turned in the chair to see who was so rude.
“Bastard yerself!” he growled as he got from his fancy chair and walked to Robert. “Baseborn bastard at that!”
Both men suddenly broke into laughter.
The knights returned to watching the burning.
“I figured ye were just goin’ to keep the garrison penned here for the time,” said Robert pointing to the burning castle and fields.
“‘Twas… but,” started William. “We kilt the garrison.”
“Bored, were ye?”
“And I wondered what was inside that might be pretty,” added William.
“Ye know I got gold from ol’ Clifford to protect this castle?” asked Robert.
“Ne’er knew that,” bantered William. “Givin’ it back?” he smiled a bit already knowing the answer.
“I figured ye were just goin’ to raid around the area for livestock and folk to ransom,” said Robert.
“Did all that.”
“Where are ye a’keepin’ ‘em?”
“Yon wood where there’s lots of trees to tie things to,” he said pointing west a bit. “Where’s yer plunder?”
“Be here directly,” said Robert as he got from the saddle and plopped himself into one of the fine chairs.
“Ye save these for yerself?” asked Robert.
“Saved that one for ye, Milord,” he teased.
“And I saved that one for ye,” Robert back teased as he patted the close arm of the chair to test its softness.
William fell into the second chair and the men laughed again.
“Can’t help but think we got more booty than yer cousin James,” said Robert.
“Don’t know. East March is mighty rich,” said William not wanting to get the family squabble going again with Robert.
“I got three thousand in coin,” bragged Robert pushing back deep into the soft chair.
“But I burnt the castle,” remarked William.
“Just one out of four, did ye burn,” said Robert trying to rationalize why he was not going to give any money back to Roger de Clifford.
Meanwhile some twelve miles in a southerly direction at Castle Appleby, Clifford’s seneschal sent for his lord to join him at the ramparts of Caesar’s Tower.
“Look yon, Milord,” said the seneschal pointing northward when Clifford arrived at the ramparts.
Roger Clifford squinted into the smoky mist. “What’s afire?”
“‘Ppears to be Brougham,” he replied.
The old baron’s mouth dropped involuntarily. “Was not the protection of Brougham included in that payment?”
“‘Twas, Milord.”
“Reckon they burnt Brough, too?”
“No smoke from the south, Milord,” said the servant commander. “But on the other hand the breeze is headed in that direction.”
Roger Clifford screamed, “Those lyin’ goddamned Scotch bastards!!” so loudly that he was heard all the way to the bottom of the hill where subsequently two of Robert Stewart’s knights were outside the only building left standing in the town of black ashes.
“Ye got Earl Fife’s caltrops?”
“Thirty he wanted,” said the old blacksmith. “Thirty one or two is what I got sacked up for you.”
“And there’s the question of a lad,” said one knight.
“Lad’s gone with his ma,” lied the smith knowing from the beginning Fife’s intention.
“Fife wanted him to come along,” said the knight roughly. “Make caltrops in Fife, he wanted the lad to do.”
The knight could hear warriors sallying from the gate at the top of the hill and knew their time there was short.
“Sorry, M ilords all,” begged the old man, “but he is in the mountains. At Rey Cross… Stainmore… with his family.”
The one knight growled and showed his teeth at the blacksmith for he figured he would be punished for not bringing the lad but they at least had the thirty caltrops wrapped in leather pouches.
“We’ll be back for the lad,” warned one as they both mounted their horses.
The English troops of Roger Clifford knowing nothing of the visit of the two knights came at a gallop off the hill heading for Brougham Castle where their numbers were certainly smaller than Earl Robert’s but they were sent in harm’s way for the sake of Clifford’s scorching temper easily goaded by pride and a vain hope his ill-gotten gold could be recovered.
The Scottish knights whipped their large but relatively slow-footed destriers to as fast a gate as they could muster headed toward Castle Brougham where Earl Robert must be warned.
The old blacksmith stood in front of his smithy watching the dispatching men and horse splashing into the ford water. His grandson came to his side and tucked himself under the man’s protective arm glad he was still in Appleby.
The man gave the boy a loving pat and was glad he was able to accomplish the dangerous ruse.
“‘Twill be better by-and-by,” he said in a quiet reassuring voice.
August 13 - Early Afternoon
OtterburnVillage and
Blakeman’s Law
Otterburn was a small village near the confluence of the Otter Burn and the Rede River. It was a sanctioned trading town that despite its small area and population had a certain influence in the region.
In many ways Otterburn had been a constant target for raiding border clans for much of recent history.
Even King Robert the Bruce had raided Otterburn after the great battle of Stirling. He had riled the local citizens to join him in raiding other parts of Northumberland with the plan to bring Tynedale back into the Scottish nation, a venture that never matured in Robert’s lifetime or thereafter.
“Scotch a’comin’!!” screamed the old woman working her way through a close knit group of sod hovels with thatched roofs.
“What Scotch?” asked a child of nine years coming from one of the hovels. She hunkered at the fire and stirred vegetables that were cooking in an over hanging pot.
“The ones that cuts your heads off and reives your food,” said the woman in a fearful voice as she squatted close beside the child.
The child blinked wide eyed not fully understanding. “Why you need food if your head’s been cut off?” she asked in all innocence.
The woman said, “Seen it with my own eyes, I have… heads cut off by Scotchmen!... Came here ‘bout three years back and ruined a lot a’ folks!” To illustrate her point she reached across and with a single long fingernail stroked it across the child’s neck which must have felt like the slice of an actual knife blade because the child jumped to her feet, grabbed her neck with both hands and screamed at the top of her voice.
The chief Burgess of the village heard the alarming screams of the child and rushed to understand her problem. He caught her by the shoulders in mid run and asked, “What?!”
“Scotch are a’cuttin’ my head off!” she cried.
“Where?” he asked, “Where’s the Scotch?”
The child quickly looked about and saw the old woman walking her way and she screamed again. “Yon’s the one! She cut my neck, too!”
The chief burgess looked to where the child pointed. “You tellin’ fright stories again’, Old Mary?”
Mary gave a crooked smile. “Ain’t just
a story this time,” she said.
The child held close to the burgess’ leg as she fearfully stared at the addlepated woman.
“You ought not scare the children,” scolded the burgess.
“Scotch is here ‘bouts for true fact,” said Mary beckoning him with her one index finger, “Show you, I will.”
The burgess was exasperated with Mary since that was far from the first time she had alarmed the town but he could not just ignore such a possible thread so he took the child by the hand saying, “Show us.”
Mary gave her crooked smile, turned with a jolt and made her way north out of town.
The patient burgess followed her up on a rise called Faldon Hill immediately north of the town. She stood on the crest and pointed across the way to Blakeman’s Law. “Yon they are!” she announced feeling vindicated.
The burgess climbed the few more steps to her level and looked across. “My God!” he said in a whisper.
The child came to his side and looked as well. “Them the Scotch?” she asked calmly.
For the most part the foreground was relatively flat, rich, green, farm lands left fallow for the year with the meandering Rede River winding its way snakelike south toward the village and beyond to the North Tyne and the Tyne that eventually poured out to sea beyond Newcastle. The burgess saw some hundreds of warriors unpacking mules and setting up tents for an apparent camp site.
“Reckon now you believe me they’re here to cut our heads off?” said Mary, a wide prideful smile stretching her lips and showing her snaggled teeth.
The burgess thought the Scots to not be an immediate danger and so the three walked back toward the town.
“We still got our heads,” said the youngster happily.
“Aye, child,” answered the burgess, “We still got our heads.”
Mary was straggling as she thought to pick flowers along the return.
It had taken the leading knight, Alexander Ramsey from Midlothian more than two days to arrive at Blakeman’s Law. His contingent was assigned to meet the plunder train under the command of Sir John Swinton that was coming north and to help with moving that plunder into Scotland. He had about twenty knights with him along with six hundred men-at-arms for protection and had arrived without any challenges along the way.
There was another Scottish knight by the name of John Haliburton on whom Alexander depended a great deal. He was a fair man with logistic skills that surpassed Ramsey’s and so the two men naturally formed a bond to accomplish their task to a greater proficiency than either one working alone.
“How ye figurin’ this John?” asked Alexander as the two men sat their horses on an elevated part of the surrounding landscape.
“What ye make of the land over toward Elsdon?” asked John.
“‘Bout the same,” he said, “no real advantage here to there,”
“A’right, ye see the bend in the burn yon?” he asked pointing to a fairly flat piece of boggy land limned by the crook of the river bed.
“I see,” said Alexander.
“Ought to put the plunder and what horse we have in there. Kind of a natural pinfold, it is,” spoke Haliburton. “We’ll have to fence off the open side. That’s all.”
“Water a’plenty, too,” added Ramsey.
“Aye,” agreed Haliburton.
Then Haliburton wheeled his horse and said, “There, across the road and up that bit of a rise is where ye’ll be a’wantin’ to build yer obstruction.”
“James Douglas was strong on that notion,” advised Ramsey, “said if any English were to follow him here he wanted to have a barrier.”
“Just in case, I see,” said Haliburton.
“Just in case,” reiterated Ramsey smiling.
“Good view of the whole road and along the sides. Archers could kill a’many ere they could get to that barrier point,” explained John.
“I reckon there would be enough trees here ‘bouts,” said Ramsey.
“Oh, there’s a’plenty a tree in yon wood to cut and drag over here with the mules,” said John again pointing. “Good many saplin’s to lace in and out, too.”
Ramsey nodded his head he was pleased. “There’s the plan. Time to get busy.”
August 14 - Afternoon
Castle Brougham
Earl Robert Stewart saw the two knights coming fast on their destriers across the planted fields and heading straight for him. Recognizing the men as the ones he had sent to Appleby he waved them to his exact position.
“Looks to me like they’ve ‘bout kilt their horses,” said William Douglas.
“Came from Appleby,” advised Robert. He kept waving.
The knights came to Robert and pulled hard on the reins. “Men from Appleby… not far back, Milord!”
“Shit! Must’a seen the smoke,” said Robert then turned to William. “Got me in trouble, ye have.”
William shrugged as he put a foot in the saddle’s stirrup. “Show ye where our men are bivouacked… ‘less ye want to lay out here a’moanin’ and whinin’… Milord.” When he topped his horse he smiled widely to show his tease but by then Robert was busy going to the top of his destrier and asking questions of the two knights. “How many?”
“The whole garrison, I reckon, Milord,” replied the knight.
“They followin’ ye?”
“Aye, Milord.”
“And did ye see anything of our booty contingent?”
“Must’a been on another path,” answered the knight.
The few knights close by and the two newly arrived knights followed their liege lords to the wood where the warriors who had gone up the ladders and taken the castle were resting.
“Got more fun for ye good men!” announced William as he came to the thick of the camp. “Just gonna be a skirmish then we’ll have them all dead,” announced William in a casual but loud manner. “Knights in front. Archers second. Banner bearers third. Spear men fourth and foot behind them. No horses!”
“Ye men assigned to prisoner and livestock parties stay to yer duties,” ordered Robert realizing William had the event well in hand.
The men scrambled as they formed their positions. Within minutes they were ready. With their shields glistening in the afternoon sun and the colorful banners fluttering over their heads they looked invincible.
Robert and William rode their horses to the center of the line. Their respective squires carried the banners of their liege lords and stood their horses on the outer sides of the nobles.
The timing could not have been better.
The Appleby garrison suddenly appeared on the far side of the field.
The castle seneschal was surprised to see the Scots in good array and awaiting his arrival. He did know that there would be more men than what he had but he was not prepared to see how many.
“Spread out!” ordered the seneschal already knowing it was going to be a disaster.
“Earl Robert and Sir William moved out front of the army. They all pushed deeper into the field.
“They’re not horsed,” said Appleby’s second in command.
“You a’figurin’ that an advantage to us?” asked the seneschal who was frankly in a quandary.
“Reckon they’d be fool enough to run on us?” asked William.
“Fool or not, they’re still mounted,” said Robert.
The two stalwarts stopped before they got half way between the tree line and the far side of the field.
“That ye seneschal?” shouted out Robert.
“‘Tis, Stewart,” he answered. His men were still getting into position.
“Where’s Baron Clifford?”
“Not here.”
“And ye’ll be diein’ here without benefit of him seein’ yer brave warriors in the fray?”
“I am actin’ surrogate,” shouted the seneschal across the way. “I am instructed to return the coin given to you yesterday for you have behaved unworthy and burnt this castle to the ground.”
“William burnt it, not me!” explained R
obert. “He burnt it ere I got back to stay his hand from the task.”
“Nevertheless, ‘tis burnt.”
“Come as ye will,” said Robert. “We are ready.”
Appleby’s second in command leaned over and advised, “I think we should run them over with our horses.”
“Best plan you got?”
“You got better?”
The seneschal breathed deep, drew his sword, looked back to see if his men were ready.
Robert and William walked their horses back to their men then wheeled to face their on comers. “Reckon they are that foolish.”
“Reckon ye durst not feel so weepy eyed for them for they are here to kill ye, Robert,” advised William who then drew his own sword and adjusted the strap on his shield.
The men heard a single war whoop followed tight by a massive roar.
“Get back,” ordered Robert to his squire. Both banner bearing squires withdrew into the ranks as the army moved forward to close the space.
The Appleby men kicked their horses hard and came for the Scots.
The archers drew back and released their hundred arrows nocked in the taut strings of their longbows. Without looking to see their landing places they pulled a second arrow from the ground in front of them and let that flight of sorties fly. Then they saw the results of the first flight as the English fell from their saddles and their horses fell to the ground from the rain of deadly barbs. The second flight came and more fell wounded then they withdrew so the spearmen could come forward in front of the knights.
The seneschal came straight for Robert who kicked his horse to a trot and did not deny the English warrior his chance at his supposed due.
Robert came to the right side of the English horse and slammed his sword hard onto the white shield with the diagonal blue bar. He could see a definite impression in the shield but the seneschal held it steady and got a slam of his own on Robert’s shield. Robert wheeled as did the seneschal and they traded blows once again. Robert remembered what William had said about not underestimating the foe. He wheeled again and kicked his charger hard in the ribs and with three deft sword strikes the seneschal was falling to the ground.
Games of Otterburn 1388 Page 7