by Griff Hosker
Even though Bella was a big horse, she was almost war horse size and the streets were so crowded with people leaving their homes and fleeing to the castle that I was slowing. I still had my visor up and I shouted, “Out of the way in the name of the King!”
My words had an immediate effect. I think some of the burghers were fleeing because the civil war and the French invasion had made them wary. They stopped and obeyed. The ones who did not were obviously no friends of the King and I used the flat of my sword to strike them in the back. Their shouts and the sound of their bodies hitting the stalls which lined the street made more people get out of my way.
The sun was now high enough to shed light in the streets and I saw that there were armed men before me. Armed men meant they served de Gaugny. They did not deserve mercy. One warrior emerged from a whorehouse with his breeks around his ankles. He held a sword in his hand and he was trying to pull up his breeks. He succeeded in tripping himself up. I swerved to ride around him but when I heard a sickening crunch then I knew that I had knights behind me and they could not avoid the body. Ahead of me I saw the gate. The castle had a moat. It fed from the Trent. There were men on the drawbridge and I could hear the cries of those within as they shouted for people to get off the bridge so that they could raise it. Human nature put self-preservation ahead of any thought of their fellow men and they continued to pour across. It spelled their doom.
Bella and I ploughed into the back of them. Those on the side fell into the moat. Two men who stood just inside the gatehouse raised spears to prevent my entry. The press of men made it hard for them but one did manage to stab at me. My shield was still hanging over my left leg. His spear struck my leg but did me no damage. The second sentry’s spear came for my face. I lowered my head. The spear slid off the side of the helmet and as Bella galloped beneath the gatehouse I swung my sword across his throat. I was inside the gatehouse. The castle was not yet ours for they could retreat to the keep but I had a toehold and so I pulled up my shield and looked for enemies.
Maurice of Branston was an older knight yet he had managed to keep up with me and he reined in next to me. Like me he had his visor up. He grinned. I could see the light of battle in his eyes. “You have the luck of the devil my lord! Long may it continue.”
“As soon as the rest are within the gates we ride to the keep.”
He turned in his saddle, “We have twelve men now, lord.”
“That will have to do!” I pulled back on Bella’s stirrups and raising my sword shouted, “King Henry!”
This time the knights cheered and I raced towards the gate to the keep. The keep was attached to the walls and I knew that my men at arms would dismount and gain access to the keep along the fighting platform. We had breached the outer wall and the men we faced had little confidence in their ability to defeat mounted knights. They ran. This time the gate to the keep was up a staircase. I would not be able to ride Bella but the gate was still open as we approached. I threw myself from the saddle and ran up the stairs. They were filled with men but I had the advantage of a shield, mail and a helmet. Those on the outside fell to the ground as I pushed up through them. Some tried to strike at me with swords and daggers but we were too close for them to have any power and they did not penetrate my mail. I saw the door slowly closing against the press of men. Two arrows flew and the men before me both fell. My archers were on the walls. Using the two bodies to help me spring upwards I threw myself at the closing gate, using my shield and my shoulder as a human battering ram. The gate sprang open and I fell to the ground. My life would have been ended there if Maurice of Branston had not lunged with his sword and ended my would-be killer’s life. Another spear plunged down at my chest. I managed to bring my shield around. The spear blow was a hard one. I swung my foot and the rowel on my spur raked across the chaussee of the man at arms. He reeled backwards for the spikes had drawn blood. Maurice of Branston had wounded his opponent and he held his hand out to help me up.
The stairs above us leading to the main hall were narrow and suited the defender. Behind us our knights and men at arms were fighting the men attempting to get in. I could hear the shouts of, ‘I yield!”
We now had the difficult task of ascending the stairs. It had been many years since I had done this. I could not wield my sword because of the stone to my right while the knight who retreated before me could bring his sword down with great force. I sheathed my sword and took out my dagger. Behind me the sounds of battle were fading as more men surrendered. I heard more knights enter behind me. Maurice of Branston had just said, “Why the dagger?” when one of the Bishop’s young knights leapt between us and ran to tackle the knight on the stairs. He swung the sword and the blade hit the top of the stairs. Gaugny’s knight swung his sword and almost decapitated the foolish young warrior.
“Hold! Sir Maurice and I will advance. The rest will follow! Slowly!” I turned to Sir Maurice. “Keep to my left and use your shield to protect my side.” I held my shield above my head and stepped on the stair. The knight above me fetched me a mighty blow with his sword. I was expecting it but even so it shook me. I lifted the shield and then, raising my dagger, drove it through the mail and foot of the knight. Sir Maurice rammed his blade through the knee of the knight. Blood spurted and he began to fall forward. We had not planned it but the two of us angled our shields and the body slipped behind us. I quickly climbed three slippery blood covered steps. Another knight was waiting. He had not seen what had happened because of the curve in the stairs. He had an axe and this time, when he struck, he made my shield crack and numbed my arm. He was a shorter knight and I lunged up and under his hauberk. My dagger entered his thigh and then his groin. He squealed like a pig. Blood and entrails flooded from his body. He slipped backwards. I could see that we were almost at the hall and so, while I had the chance I leapt over his body. A man at arms hurried down the stairs towards me. I did not hesitate but used my shield as a weapon and even as he was slashing down at me I was hitting him in the jaw with my shield. My dagger was the key for as he fell backwards I tore it across his throat. Slipping my dagger into my left hand I drew my sword and stepped into the corridor before the Great Hall.
It was obvious now that the purpose of the three men they had sent was to slow us down so that they could organize their defence. I had had enough solo heroics and I waited for the knights to join me. Sir Maurice said, “My lord you are too reckless!”
I nodded, “It is not in my nature to allow others to risk their lives for me. We now fight as one.” I could see that they had knights in the Great Hall and they were flanked by men at arms. They were just four paces from the door and the doors would only accommodate four men at a time. When we entered we would be outnumbered. I turned and pointed to the two largest knights who had just joined us. “You, Sir John, to my right and you, Sir Gilles, to the left of Sir Maurice. Hold your swords over your shields and lock the shields. The next four I want your swords pointing over our shoulders. We step on to our right feet.”
“Aye lord!”
“King Henry!”
“King Henry!” The words echoed down the stairs and along the corridor. It made it sound like there were more of us than there actually were.
I shouted, “Now!” We moved forward and entered the room. Gaugny and his men had been waiting for the move. They were outnumbered in the castle but not in the hall. If they could kill or capture enough of us they might escape. These were desperate men. I had chosen big knights for it gave us an advantage. Swords, axes and spears rattled off our shields and helmets. The hall had a high ceiling and they could swing their swords easily. I lunged forward with my sword. As luck would have it the man at arms I faced had a helmet with a nasal. I drove the tip of my sword through his eye. It takes a brave man to fight with a sword in his skull. I pushed and my tip entered his brain. He slumped to the ground and my sword was freed. I swung it sideways and it clattered off the side of the helmet of the knight next to him. The sound of the ringing helmet was loud
to us and it must have deafened the knight. A sword came over my shoulder and struck the knight’s shoulder. Sir John had suffered many blows and his retaliation came when he brought his sword over his head to smash into the knight’s helm. Two of their front rank were dead and Sir John and I stepped into the gap their deaths created. As soon as we did so the whole of the enemy line disintegrated for men had warriors on both sides of them.
I found myself facing Robert de Gaugny. I recognised his device. “De Gaugny, surrender. Save men’s lives for you cannot win.”
“Yield and then what?”
“A trial.”
“And we both know what the outcome of that will be. I will try a bout with you lord. Who knows if I win I may buy my freedom with your life.”
“Do not count on that, my friend!”
I had been watching his eyes. I saw the movement there before he made it and my shield smashed into the sword which came for my head. I had been fighting for some time and I was his first opponent; he and his blade were fresher. He was younger. I deliberately took a step back to give him confidence. I feinted with my sword and he laughed. “Earl, I expected more. You disappoint me.”
I took another step back aware that the hall was now filled with men fighting each other. So long as de Gaugny lived they would fight on. He began to swing harder. I kept blunting his blade with my shield but I was aware that there was a crack in the shield and it would split. When I felt the wall at my back I had nowhere else to go. He sensed his opportunity and he brought his hand over to shatter my shield with his sword. I chose that moment to hack down at his thigh. As my shield broke he shouted in pain as my shield split but I held a dagger in my hand and I put the tip at his throat. “Yield!” I pushed and the narrow tip went into one of the mail links and pricked his chin.
“I yield!” His sword clattered to the floor of the Great Hall.
The battle was over and the Bishop had Newark but I had been lucky. If I had not had the dagger in my left hand then I would now be dead.
Chapter 8
The Homecoming
The King learned about justice when the mercenary and his men went on trial. He saw now the leniency of my justice in London. The men who were not executed were branded or maimed. As all of them had been warriors they could not continue to ply their trade. As we headed for York he asked me what their future held for them.
“If they are lucky then they might be taken on as a labourer. Warriors, even one missing fingers or hands, are strong men. However, farmers would fear for their families for warriors who fight for pay are dangerous men too. If they have family they could return thence and, perhaps, learn a trade but that is unlikely. Most warriors fight because that is the only trade they enjoy. If I was to be brutally honest, King Henry, then I would guess that most of them will end up as brigands and bandits in forests such as this one.” We were passing through the huge forest which covered most of Nottinghamshire and Yorkshire. “They will live a frugal life and probably a short one but they will be free and they will be doing that which they know.”
He was silent for a while. “Why do men choose to be warriors? Knights choose a warrior’s life for it is noble but what of the men who follow?” He lowered his voice and looked over his shoulder, “Men such as those who follow me?”
“Lord, I began, after Arsuf, as a sword for hire. If I had not been lucky enough to be knighted by King Richard then I would have had to fight for a master in Outremer. I hope that I would have been as James of Corfe and chosen a good master to follow but sometimes beggars cannot be choosers. Fate can throw you into places you would not normally go.” He was silent as he reflected upon my words.
We halted at a small village which had been carved out of part of the forest. There was a water trough and so we watered our horses. The folk there had little and we were offered nothing more. William had been listening, as he rode behind us. When he had watered and fed our horses he said, “Father, tell him the tale of Dick and Harold. I used to love that story when I was growing up.”
I smiled. William and Alfred had both been told the stories of the Warlord and his father for without them our family would have had nothing. King Henry said, “I pray you do so. When I was growing up I had no stories. I listened to the conversations of adults and I rarely saw my father.” He shook his head, “When I did see him then he had little time for me. I suppose he was trying to save a kingdom.”
The boy king had shown me that he was growing but it was easy to miss the fact that growing up as a prince was not a happy experience. I nodded and we mounted our horses and headed up the Great North Road. “Dick and Harold were both outlaws. When my great grandfather and his father were travelling up the road they were attacked and the outlaws saved them. Harold was a young outlaw, a little older than your majesty and William. He became my father’s squire. Eventually he became a knight and he saved my father’s life in London when your grandfather’s realm was threatened. He died a hero.”
“An outlaw became a knight? That sounds like the stuff of ballads.”
“I never met him but my great grandfather was the man who helped to reclaim England from King Stephen. You owe your throne to him and he was not an ordinary man. He sacrificed his life and family to make England safe. His blood runs through my veins. I try to live up to the standards he, my grandfather and my father set.”
“I heard that your father died saving my uncle.”
“He did, I was there.” The memory of that hot and dusty day came rushing back to me. The sound of neighing horses and the thundering hooves of the Seljuk Turk. Had I really survived? Was this all a dream of death?
I realised that I must have been silent for some time as the King said, quietly, “And this Dick?”
I nodded, “In many ways his story is even more remarkable. When we reach my home, I will show you his grave for he has a monument the equal of the Warlord.”
“An outlaw?”
“He redeemed his past and atoned for whatever sins he had committed. He became an outlaw through no fault of his own. He became the Warlord’s Captain of Archers. In the battles to end the civil war he and his well-trained men won back the kingdom. My father was in no doubt about that. Mordaf and Gruffyd are just two of my archers but I have many and they are the finest in the land. They are the legacy of Dick. He was knighted. As far as I know he was the only knighted archer. He never had a manor and, so far as I can tell, rarely if ever used his title. When he died the great and the good came to pay their respects. Outlaws can be redeemed, King Henry, and my son was right to have me tell you the tale for it is too easy to forget those who are not noble born. Without them you would have no kingdom.
He turned to look at Ridley the Giant and Henry Youngblood who were chatting easily to Sir Robert. Once more I saw the King changing. He had been brought up the son of a King he rarely saw. The servants and those responsible for raising him had done so looking over their shoulders for they feared that King John would lose and they would have to seek a new master. His upbringing must have been lonely. He had not enjoyed, as I had, the company of men such as Edward and Edgar, my grandfather’s hawkers. He had not watched Alf’s grandson make his first mail hauberk. He had not ridden through Hartburn woods to hunt and to share food with the pig farmer, Osweyn. He had lived apart. His life had been that of a monk in luxury. I saw envy in his eyes. He wanted to be able to talk as Sir Robert did.
“Your Majesty, your honour and your position are not threatened if you are familiar with those who are around you. Even if lower born in death we are all the same. If you get to know them then they will fight harder for you and you will not be profligate with their lives. De Gaugny could have saved men’s lives if he had surrendered just a few moments before he did. Sir Maurice, Sir John and the others all killed men who might otherwise had survived.”
“And possibly received the sentence of death!”
I laughed, not in a cruel way but in remembrance of my own life. “So long as a man lives there is a chance
for another life. In the Holy Land, Sweden and Anjou there were many times I might have died but I sought life.”
“You mean they could have escaped?”
“Would you await death? Would you not do all that you could to live?”
We rode in silence. That day was many years ago but my words must have affected the King for his son showed that he had learned to be resourceful and to do all that he could to survive. That would be the future for Henry had neither a wife nor a son. I had thrown a stone into the pond and the ripples, once started, would continue for a long time.
When we reached York, he heard from the Archbishop and Sir Ralph of the state of the land. The ones who had fled the evil of the Lord of Skipton spoke to him. He heard first hand of their privations. It hardened him to lords of the manor who did not look after their tenants.
We had been away far longer than I had expected. I was looking forward to seeing my family again. The King and William were chattering away like magpies behind me. William was pointing out features, such as the priory at Mount Grace and the ancient white horse carved upon the hills. Since our talk in the forest he had begun to enjoy the company of others and was easier with them. I put my mind to the task ahead. I knew, from our journey north that Newark had been a warning to others who thought to flout the King and his lords. We had been greeted warmly in each town through which we had passed. De Vesci and de Percy still remained a problem north of my river and north of the Palatinate. We would need to visit with them. I had a mind to ride to Norham. It would be a long ride and autumn was upon us but it would serve to show the Scots that we had a new king and it would bolster the resolve of that northern outpost of England. If we could leave the north at peace then I could return the King to London knowing that his hands were firmly upon the reins. Already the harvest was in and the animals gathered for their cull. This was the perfect time for the Scots to raid.