Henry II (The Anarchy Book 13)

by Griff Hosker

  “Do we know where he is?”

  Sir Harold said, “I believe that he has headed back to Bury St. Edmunds.”

  “Then he will run into Sir Hugh there. We have time to ride to Lincoln and then join Sir Hugh.”

  “Will this not break the truce, lord?”

  “No, Sir Harold. I go to visit the Earl of Norfolk. Christmas in Norfolk would seem attractive would it not?”

  Dick laughed, “And if Eustace took exception to our presence and attacked us then it would be he breaking the truce and not us. Your mind is as sharp as ever, lord.”

  I kept little from the Earl of Leicester. He needed to be vigilant. We could not afford to lose Lincoln again. He had to know the danger which William of Ypres and Eustace represented. These were not Englishmen; these were Flemish mercenaries and, as they had shown at Bury St. Edmunds, could be dangerous.

  Chapter 22

  After a week where we rested both animals and bodies, we headed south through the most bitter weather I had endured for some time. Too many winters in Anjou and Normandy had made me forget that English weather was the most precocious of all. We approached the manor of Stamford. Standing next to the old Ermine Street it was an important place and guarded the road to Lincoln. It was held for Stephen by William de Warenne. I had fought him at the battle of Lincoln.

  “Do we try to stay in the castle or the town, lord?”

  “It matters not, Sir Harold, for the town is walled. If we gain entry to the town then the truce is to be honoured.”

  “And if not?”

  “Then, Dick, we sleep in the fields and endure the elements.”

  Behind me Wilfred said, “Time was we would have taken the poxy little town, lord.”

  I laughed, “That is true but we have a truce and that means peace… for the present.”

  Surprisingly we were welcomed. Our banner had been seen and William de Warenne himself met us at the gate. “Welcome Earl. The truce means that I can welcome you as a guest and we will not have to fight this time.”

  We were fewer now and the accommodation was easier. I sat next to the baron. He leaned over to me when the meal was served and both sets of knights were eating. “Fate has sent you this way, lord. Had you not come then I would have sought you out.”

  I was intrigued, “Why?”

  “Two reasons: first to warn you that Eustace and William of Ypres seek you out. They wish to bring you to battle. The word is that they see you as the opposition to King Eustace. If you are captured or killed, then they do not see Henry capable of wresting the crown from his father.”

  “If that is their belief then they are in for a shock. Henry will be a good king. Besides there is a truce.”

  De Warenne nodded, “It is what I have heard and brings me to my second reason for wishing to speak with you. I would join Henry FitzEmpress.” I cocked an eye quizzically. “It is not a shift in the wind, lord. Eustace is dangerous. Bury St Edmunds and the lands to the south are close enough for me to know of what he is capable. I could not serve him as king. He would tear the heart out of this country. He also says that the truce does not apply to him and he did not agree to it. I tell you this because of all men in England you are the one that a knight can trust. I hand over Stamford to you.”

  “Then hold it for Henry.”

  “I so swear.”

  Once again, the other knights had been listening and they banged their goblets on the table.

  “I will send a messenger to the Earl of Leicester before I leave tomorrow. He will be relieved to know the road to London is held by an ally.”

  “You leave so soon? But Eustace hunts you.”

  “And Eustace hunts Englishmen. I swore an oath to King Henry. That oath was not just to put his blood on the throne but to protect England. I will ride on the morrow to Ipswich and join Sir Hugh Bigod. Perhaps the presence of two earls may make the Count of Flanders think again.”

  Although I had sounded confident I was still cautious. As we headed south, two days later, I sent Dick and his archers ahead of us as a screen. I had four knights and squires with me and over sixty men at arms. With Dick’s archers, we numbered almost a hundred men. I was not afraid of battle but I knew that our numbers meant we were vulnerable.

  I had intended to stay at Cambridge. William of Ypres had anticipated me. It was coming on to dark and we had just passed through the village of Histon when Dick and his archers rode in. “Lord the road is blocked a mile and a half ahead. William of Ypres is there. He has his men arrayed for battle. I think he expects us.”

  “Did he see you?”

  “No lord.”

  “Then why is he arrayed for battle?”

  “We found a scout on our way south. Aelric hit him with an arrow but he lived long enough to tell us that William of Ypres has had men shadowing us since we left Wallingford. They know we are coming and they know our numbers.”

  “And their numbers?”

  “It is hard to say, lord. They have many banners but they have built a barricade across the road. There were men sheltering behind it.”

  “The barricade? Of what is it made?”

  “Two carts tied together. They have the land on both sides defended. There are dikes and ditches which protect their flanks. It is a good position to defend.”

  I looked up at the darkening sky. It would be dark within the hour. The scudding clouds bespoke showers later on. “Is Eustace there?”

  “We saw not his banner.”

  “And the land before their camp?”

  “It is open. There are ditches by the road but no dwellings. The fields are little more than bogs.” He pointed to the heavens. “The rain has not helped us.”

  “Then we rest here. When it is dark we move to within bow range and make camp. In the night, we will add to the shower of rain with showers of arrows.”

  Sir Gilles said, “But they will know we are there and that we are coming.”

  “They know that anyway, Gilles, the Warlord is right. This way we can hurt them and they cannot fight back. We know where they are camped. We might be loosing blind but some of our arrows will find flesh and it will keep them awake.”

  We waited until the gloom of the afternoon became the murk of night. A thin mist rose from the land and we moved silently forward. I had retained the slingers with me and they held the horses under the command of Robert, my squire; the rest of the squires and my men would be needed to make the attack. We moved as silently as we could down the road and along the muddy fields. We were in the hands of Dick and his archers. They went before us. Their bows were yet to be strung. The mist and the damp would lessen their effect. The longer they could be kept dry the better.

  The mist made it almost impossible to see too far ahead but Dick must have used his sense of smell to tell him when we were close enough. He held up his hand and we stopped. I saw him and his archers take their bow strings from the leather pouch which was close to their body and string their bows. They disappeared into the mist. I waved the line of knights and men at arms forward and we halted at the spot the archers had just vacated. I could just make them out some forty paces from us. They were a darker shadow in the mist. I waved my men into two lines. Wilfred stood on my right shoulder. James had left the standard with Robert and he stood behind me. Sir Harold stood to my left. The two carts which formed a barrier meant that we would need spears; at least for the initial attack.

  Through the mist, I heard the hiss of arrows as they sailed into the night. The second hiss sounded and then I heard the cries of men as they were struck and the clatter of arrows which hit trees or struck the road. A voice shouted in Flemish and was repeated in English, “Stand to, we are under attack! Hold your positions.”

  Dick and his archers were not standing still. They moved their positions back and forth, left and right. As crossbow bolts struck our shields I guessed why. There were cries from some of my archers as they were struck by the bolts. Like us the enemy were sending them blind. Their slow rate of fire and
spacing between bolts told me that they did not have many.

  I did not shout but I raised my spear and moved forward. My men followed. The archers parted to let us through. More bolts struck our shields now.

  Another voice shouted in Flemish and was then repeated, “The enemy are attacking! Watch for knights!”

  They knew we were approaching. I saw the shapes of the two carts loom up out of the dark. Even as I looked I saw one man rise and raise his crossbow. He aimed it for me. Suddenly he was plucked from the air as though by an invisible hand. My archers had moved behind us and two arrows had hit the would be killer. Some of the Flemish men at arms and knights were in the carts and they would use them like a castle. They would use their height. Sir John and Sir Gilles led the men who would attack around their flanks. We had to force the carts apart.

  The spear from above clattered into my helmet. It was polished and greased and the spear slid off and then caught in the clasp of my cloak. As the spearman tried to free it I stabbed upwards and my own spear went under his arm, where there was no mail and into his neck. I was sprayed with his hot blood and he fell backwards.

  “James!”

  James stepped before me and cupped his hands. As I stepped into them he boosted me up and I rose to step onto the cart. A spear came at my chest and I barely blocked it with my shield. I was overbalancing anyways and so I stepped forward. I brought my head into that of the man who had tried to spear me. Our combined weight made him lose his balance and he fell backwards. He tumbled into the men who were trying to climb up. I stabbed the man at arms who was fighting Sir Harold and then hurled my spear into chest of the first of those who had risen from behind the cart. Drawing my sword, I leapt down amongst them shouting, “Henry and the Empress!”

  I landed on the chest of one knight who was trying to rise. I heard his breastbone break as I hit him. My momentum drove me forward. I had to take long strides to avoid falling and I found myself facing knights and men at arms who were rushing to the carts to defend them. In their eagerness to get at the Warlord of the North they got in each other’s way and I was able to block their blows with my shield and sword. It could not last.

  I heard a roar from behind me and a spear was hurled not the chest of the nearest knight then, swinging his war hammer Wilfred threw himself into the fray. My father had spoken of the men the Vikings called berserkers. He had fought against three at the battle of Stamford Bridge. He had seen them in the Varangian Guard and that night I saw the berserker reincarnated in Wilfred who tore into the men before me. I stabbed at one who turned his shield to deflect Wilfred’s shield. The spike in the war hammer drove deep into the skull of one Flemish knight who died with a surprised expression on his face.

  I now had space and I joined Wilfred in driving forward. I heard James shout, “The Earl is in danger! The Earl is in danger!”

  Wilfred and I had set our sails and we had to follow our course. We dared not fall back. I blocked and punched with my shield. I slashed with my sword using wide swings. Wilfred used both ends of his war hammer. It seemed to whirl in the air. A Flemish warrior had an axe and he hacked at Wilfred’s shield. The straps broke and it fell from his arm. He used his left hand to hold the bottom of the war hammer and his swings became longer. The hammer side struck a knight in the side of the head. It almost took the head from him.

  His swings took our enemies from before us. Sir Harold and James raced to my left side but Wilfred ploughed on through the enemy. It was as though they were drawn to his deadly weapon. I saw the Flemish warrior with the axe seize his opportunity and, as the war hammer swung past him he darted in with axe raised to end my sergeant at arms’ life. I rammed my own sword up under his raised arms and it went through his body and came out at the other side of his neck. The axe fell from his lifeless body. As I pulled the sword from it I saw a spear ram into Wilfred’s side but he punched the hammer into the man’s face, turning it into pulp. Raising it he swung it around in an arc which hit two men at arms and made the rest duck. It was Wilfred’s undoing. There were three crossbows behind the men at arms and they all loosed at a range of twenty paces. All three struck home. Even so Wilfred managed one last mighty swing and he embedded it into the skull of a last knight. Then my brave retainer fell dead.

  It was I who became enraged. It was I who went berserk. I threw myself reckless into the fray. The men who had ducked, rose. One found the edge of my sword as it sliced through his neck. Another two fell to Sir Harold and James. I stepped over their bodies and raced to the three men with crossbows who were busy trying to reload their weapons. I drove my sword through the stomach of one. He fell writhing to the ground. He would be a long time dying. A second tried to swing his crossbow at my head. I blocked it with my shield and then sliced my sword down his side. As I sawed it back I tugged entrails from his body. The last man tried to run. As he turned he tripped and he dropped his crossbow. He had no armour and was on his feet quickly. I ran after him. He was younger and he had less weight about him but Wilfred’s death gave my feet wings. I brought my sword over and laid his back open to the spine. I saw the white bones running and twisting up his back.

  I heard an exultant cry ahead of me. Looking up I saw William of Ypres and six knights. They were mounted and had been about to flee. Now they saw me, isolated and alone. The mercenary made his horse rear and he shouted, “You may have won the battle, Warlord, but I shall still claim the reward from the Queen for your death! Kill him!”

  His horse’s hooves came down towards me. Had I stood where I did or retreated then I would have been dead. Pulling my shield tightly around me I pivoted on my left foot. I felt the hoof as it slid into the air where I had just stood. As I came around I swung my sword. It hacked through the strap holding the stirrup and into the leg of William of Ypres. Had I not hit the strap he would have lost the leg. As it was he tumbled from the other side of the saddle. The knight behind me raised his spear to end my life. I saw it come towards me and I could not get out of the way. Suddenly it stopped in mid-air and I saw two arrows blossom from his neck.

  Sir Gilles roared, “For Henry and the Warlord!” and he threw himself at a second knight. His sword drove into the thigh of the knight. Bright blood spoke of a mortal wound.

  I pulled my shield tightly and stepped towards William of Ypres who was standing, somewhat unsteadily on the other side of his wounded horse. “I offered you combat before and you refused. You cannot refuse now, mercenary!”

  “I will yield and there will be ransom.”

  I shook my head. “I want none of your money for it will be blood money. You are a parasite who came to England to suck on English blood. You will suck no more. Defend yourself or I will kill you where you stand for you are without honour!”

  He pulled his shield up and planted his one good foot. He swung his sword at me and I blocked it with my shield. I feinted at his head and when he brought his own shield up I changed my blow to a sweep and brought it into his side. It came away bloody. I stepped back as he swung at my head and I watched the blade swing through the air just before my face. He could not move. The puddle of blood at his feet told me that my first blow had done the damage. My second would ensure he bled to death slowly.

  He lifted his hand to tear away the ventail. He spat blood at my feet. “You may kill me but you will die soon enough. The Queen and the Count have spread enough coin so that you will have to watch for assassins around every corner. Your food and your drink will be poisoned you will…”

  I had had enough of his words. I swung backhanded and my sword took his head from his body. It rolled away and his lifeless eyes stared up into the misty night. We had won and the rest surrendered.

  It took some time for me to stop the bloodletting. My men at arms had lost their leader. Other men at arms and archers would never return home. There were foreigners come to rape, pillage and plunder. They wanted vengeance and they took it. Had I not shouted the field would have been a charnel house.

  “Hold! I need
prisoners!”

  We eventually restored order and, by dawn, we had some knights that I could question. It took some time but we discovered that Eustace was with his mother at the church of St. Helen in Bury St. Edmunds.

  “Mount, we end this today. Sir John bring the prisoners after. If any give you trouble, then slit their throats!”

  As we headed south both Dick and Sir Harold were concerned, “Warlord is this wise? There is a truce.” Dick’s words were wise but I ignored them.

  Sir Harold tried a different tack, “I can understand attacking William of Ypres; he had planned an ambush but the Queen and her son…”

  “Sir Harold, did you not hear? The Queen has ordered my death besides if I slay Eustace then Henry will become King.”

  “And you will be banished from England! You could be excommunicated!”

  I shrugged. Wilfred’s death had been a death too many. I had lived long enough. “Then so be it. If that must be the price I pay for Henry to become king, then I will gladly pay. If I am then I will join my son in the Holy Land. That will be my penance.”

  They could not dissuade me. We reached the town in the early afternoon. Our martial appearance and bloodied surcoats warned all to keep their distance. We rode directly to the church. Attached to it was a hospital. That would be where Eustace was. There were two guards at the door. I dismounted and hung my shield and helmet from the cantle. James held Rolf’s head.

  “You are forbidden to enter by order of the Queen!”

  I did not draw my sword but I knew that Dick and his archers had bows levelled at the two men. “Move or you will die!” They did not move.

  Two arrows hit the door just above their heads and they moved. I pushed it open. A priest came before me. “This is a house of God. There will be no violence here!”

  “Then move out of my way! My business is with a murderer and his Gorgon of a mother!”

  I strode down the corridor. I knew which room would house the Count for there was a guard outside the door. He filled the door with his body. I still had my coif about my head and I head butted him. His nose erupted in blood and gristle and, pulling him out of my way, I stepped through. There was a priest, the Queen, and Eustace who lay beneath a white sheet.