by Griff Hosker
I was pleased for his grandsire had not been a good man. It was encouraging that the bad blood did not go to another generation. He led his men to head to Gower and rejoin his uncle. Having defeated Prince Maelgwn ap Rhys once he was keen to follow up with that victory. As we sat around the camp fire Alfred brought up the matter of our return home, “Is it necessary for us to relieve the Earl of Pembroke? We have broken the Welsh. Prince Maelgwn ap Rhys will head back to his own lands now.”
I saw Sir Edward shake his head. He knew better. I sighed, “Have you not been listening, Alfred? This is not about Prince Maelgwn ap Rhys. This is about King Llewellyn. I slew one of the knights we saw at Powys and I am sure there were at least four others on the battlefield. The Prince does what he does for land but they are just crumbs from the King’s table. He wants a kingdom. That kingdom will be the land as it was before the first King Henry conquered large swathes of it. We need to relieve William Marshal and inflict such a defeat on the Welsh that they become like the Scots and wary of us.”
Sir Edward nodded. Alfred sighed, “It is just that I wish to return to my wife.”
“Then return. Take your squire and return to Seamer. No one would blame you. You have acted blamelessly in the campaign thus far and covered yourself in glory. I only said that I could not return home.”
Sir Edward looked intently at Alfred. My former squire saw this as a test for my son. Fótr and Peter were just bemused. They had wives but they enjoyed campaigning. They liked the profit it brought. Alfred lay on his back and looked up at the stars, “No, I am your knight and I will not leave my comrades. I will stay!”
Sir Edward’s smile filled his face. “And I have seen a couple of likely lads to be in the King’s Men. They were with Sir Ralph Thornton.” Sir Ralph had died, along with his squire in the Welsh attack. There were just a handful of survivors and they deserved a good lord. Who better than the King?
“Alfred why not go with Sir Edward and take these men to speak with the King, his knight and his captain? I think he will be in the mood to take on more men and you can see how your brother fares while you are there.”
When they were gone I sat with Sir Peter, Sir Fótr, Sir Geoffrey and Sir William. Sir Fótr said, “I understand how he feels, lord. I would have been the same if I had had to leave so soon after my wedding.”
Sir Geoffrey said nothing. He had had to leave my daughter too. His forbearance did him great credit. I knew that he must be feeling the same inside as Alfred. I put it down to the fact that he was slightly older than my son.
Sir William laughed, “Aye and Sir Alfred does not have squawking children to keep him awake.”
Sir Peter famously had three children all of whom did not sleep well. He laughed, “Aye, even Sir Edward’s snoring does not compare. Your Aunt Ruth says it is a phase and they will grow out of it. Perhaps this campaign will last long enough for that miracle to take place.”
Sir William poured more ale from the jug into our beakers, “What I cannot understand is the Earl of Chester and his actions.”
“He is easy to understand. He has had his head turned by the Prince of France who suggested he should be King of England. The Earl is like a honey bee. He is always seeking nectar. He changes sides to suit himself. The ones who are mystery to me are the ones like Sir Falkes de Breauté.”
Sir Peter frowned as he sipped his ale. “I have not heard of him, lord.”
Sir William shook his head, “He is a bad one, Petr. He was nothing, not even a gentleman. King John had elevated him and ennobled him. He gave him lands. The man became so rich that even the Earl Marshal borrowed from him and yet as soon as the King died he refused to acknowledge Henry of Winchester as King. He squats in Bedford Castle like some robber baron. There are others like him. Lord Hugh of Skipton was one. I would have thought that having done so well from John’s misrule that they would have just enjoyed the life they lead.”
“Some men are greedy. The Holy Land taught me humility. I am grateful for what I have and what I have I have earned. No one gave me anything.”
William had been my squire back then and he nodded, “Amen to that, lord. We saw the best and worst in men. I confess I did not think we would ever leave that land alive.”
We reminisced about our times in the Holy Land and Sweden. Alfred returned with Sir Edward. “It went well, father. All seemed happy with the arrangement. There might only be four more men for the King but they will be valuable additions.” He smiled, “And I am sorry that I was not the son I ought to be. You are right. And we have spoken to Gilbert de Clare. If we can retake Swansea for Sir Reginald then it will be child’s play to do as we have promised and relieve Earl William.”
“I will not have need of you in London, any of you, for I will have my men at arms and archers.” I saw the relief on their faces. London was not an experience which they relished. “And how is William?”
Alfred laughed, “Still enjoying the glory of the day. The other squires are envious of him and Garth and the King cannot cease singing his praises.”
“Aye well tomorrow he comes back to the reality of grooming my horse and sharpening my sword.”
“Let him enjoy this night, father. He will relive the memory for the rest of his life.” Alfred was a good brother.
We had just twenty odd miles to go to reach Swansea. The scouts had returned to tell us that while the fyrd had headed north the King and his knights had headed west. They were heading for Pembroke. We had lost men but not enough to diminish our threat and the Welsh who were between us and Swansea fell away. When Sir Jocelyn appeared from the north we found another reason. Sir Reginald had used our attack to gather his men and relieve the siege of Swansea. Gower was now free from the Welsh. Ominously the besiegers had also fled west. We would have one more battle before we could relieve the Earl of Pembroke.
The Welsh were also determined to harass us. Once again, we had relied on another’s men to scout and they had been found lacking. Archers sent showers of barbed arrows as we headed down a valley towards Swansea. One of the knights from Gloucestershire lost his squire. The youth was too slow to react and his shield was just a lifetime away when the arrow struck. We wasted an hour hunting down and slaying the miscreants. For the last twelve miles I used David of Wales and his archers to screen us. We were not ambushed again.
Sir Reginald was grateful for our arrival. He swore his loyalty repeatedly to King Henry. He was aware of the treachery of his father. The ambush meant that we would not be able to leave as early the next day. I sat with Gilbert de Clare, Sir Reginald and the Sheriff of Gloucestershire to plan our strategy. I would have involved the King but the younger knights of both Gower and Glamorgan claimed his time. They were all eager to show their loyalty. If nothing else our journey from Stockton had given King Henry loyal knights who appreciated the effort he had made. I wanted to be sure that the Marcher lords could defend their land. To do that I had to see how they would attack.
Gilbert de Clare was the one with the ideas and he initiated the discussion. “I know my scouts let us down this day lord and I have punished them. Perhaps the Lord of Gower has men he could trust to lead us and watch our flanks?”
“Aye I have but you should know, Earl, that the land twixt Pembroke and here is much disputed.”
“They have castles?”
“The only ones are those built by our ancestors. Pembroke Castle was a de Clare castle once. My ancestors built Carmarthen Castle.” He smiled, “The father of the Prince of Deheubarth foolishly destroyed it. It will not hold us up.”
The Sheriff of Gloucester still brooded about the loss of the popular squire on the road. “Then if they do not hold castles why do we not meet them on the field! Let us be done with these brigands once and for all. The Earl showed us how to deal with unruly neighbours. He captured King William and the Scots have become lap dogs since then!” It had been a little harder than that but I said nothing.
“Then let us bring them to battle.” We all looked at de Cl
are.
“How?”
“Simple enough, Sheriff. We do not head for Pembroke Castle. We head north for Aberystwyth.”
Sir Reginald shook his head, “Even as the crow flies that is more than fifty miles. On the tracks the Welsh call roads it would be nearer a hundred and we would be ambushed all the way.”
“We would not have to travel that far. Once we reach Carmarthen we turn north. As we know the men of Deheubarth watch us all the way. Once they knew that we headed for their capital their King would have to withdraw men from the siege.”
I confess that I saw merit in the plan but it needed the agreement of all of the lords. Surprisingly Sir Reginald seemed to like the idea. “Aye for then we could fight the Welsh on land of our choosing.”
“But if they do not follow us we cannot march through the mountains of Wales all the way to Aberystwyth. Already the men of the fyrd grow weary of the campaign and we do not have enough of their days left.”
I was about to say to the Sheriff that he could send the fyrd back when Gilbert de Clare said, “And we need not. It is a day’s march from here to Carmarthen. We head north for one day. If they have not come we turn west towards Cilgarran Castle. The Welsh would still think we headed for Aberystwyth by the coast road. I am convinced that they will attack us but, if not, then we would be cutting off their supplies.”
The Sheriff shrugged and said, “We will march to Cilgarran and if the Welsh have not attacked then I will have to take the men of Gloucester and Hereford home.”
It was an ultimatum although couched in diplomatic terms. The two Marcher lords agreed. Gilbert and the Sheriff went off to tell the captains of their plans. They would tell all the men that we headed for Aberystwyth. I would tell the King of the real destination. We might have spies in our camp and secrecy was paramount.
The Lord of Gower had some wine brought. “Your nephew has impressed us all.”
“Jocelyn is a good man although, in truth, he has no right to the name de Braose.” I sipped my wine for I knew that Sir Reginald had a tale to tell. He lowered his voice. “My sister, Adeliza, was a wild young thing. When she was but fourteen she ran off with a knight. He came from the Marches. He was an impressive knight but wild. I never knew his father but he won a few tourneys and impressed the young women. He had an eye for them. I do not know if he was even a knight. He came from nowhere and no one knew him. He was a sword for hire. He said that his name was Sir Henry but we later discovered that was a lie. When my father made it clear that he would disown my sister this knight, Sir Henry, abandoned her. She was with child. Jocelyn was that child. My sister was a broken woman. She had been abandoned. I fear she lost her mind. My father had women bring up Jocelyn but he was fond of his mother and spent long hours with her. She fed him stories about his father. He grew up thinking that it was my father who was the villain. When my father died and I inherited the title I adopted Jocelyn so that he could have the name and I had him trained as a knight. His mother died when he was ten. I am pleased that he has turned out well for I have moulded him.”
“He does you great credit.”
“And he is most interested in you and your exploits. In the last year he has asked many questions about this knight of the north who keeps the border free from foes. I think that he would emulate you here in the borders. When this is over and the Marches are safe once more I would deem it an honour if you would allow him to ride with you as one of your knights. The experience would do him good. He has ridden into England before now with his squire and his men. In the last year he has become somewhat obsessed by you and your exploits. I think some time with you could be beneficial. He will not inherit land here and learning from you might be the making of him.”
“I have to ride to London first but he would be more than welcome to accompany my son to Stockton. The two seem to get on well.”
“Good. He will be pleased.”
We left the next day but a curious incident occurred which none of us could explain. Harry son of John had been one of the men at arms I had taken to London. He was popular. Some of my men at arms and archers went to the local alehouse for a drink. While they were there Harry had suddenly become agitated and rushed out into the dark. The others thought he had seen a woman. When he did not return they searched for him. They found him dead. His throat had been cut. We might have put it down to robbery but his purse and weapons were all about his person. No one had seen anything and the more superstitious amongst my men put it down to a ghost. It was a loss which we found hard to bear. Had we lost him in battle then that would have been one thing but to be murdered! My men were uneasy. We buried him by the parish church. He was unmarried and so there would be no one to mourn save his shield brothers. They were angry and upset. As was I. As we headed for Carmarthen a theory came into my head. I would mention it to no one until I was sure but I would be wary from now on. There was a killer loose and it seemed likely that they sought another of my retinue.
The castle at Carmarthen had been attacked and destroyed on numerous occasions by the Welsh. We camped there and King Henry became quite agitated. He took the two Marcher lords to task. “My lords, my grandsires took this land and conquered it. They gave it to your families to protect. You do not even pay taxes to the crown! The least that you can do is ensure that the castles King Henry built are maintained! The Earl Marshal did much work at Pembroke and the fact that it has not fallen shows the merit of such building work. When this is over you have just four years to make the castles strong enough to withstand attacks! I will return and inspect them.” I almost smiled at the two lords whose heads hung low. They were being berated by a youth!
Our scouts had reported that Prince Maelgwn ap Rhys was at the siege of Pembroke and had been reinforced. We had thirty knights of Deheubarth in Cardiff Castle awaiting ransom. As he had been reinforced by over a hundred knights then either he had an inexhaustible supply of knights or King Llewellyn was sending him his own knights. I suspected the latter. I had Mordaf and Gruffyd shadow the Welsh. They would let us know if the Welsh swallowed our bait. When we headed north we did so slowly. Gilbert de Clare had arranged for many wagons with tents. It added to the illusion that we intended a long campaign. The presence of the King added to the deception. The Welsh would think it was a young king flexing his muscles. The land through which we travelled had been part of Gower but long lost. The farms showed that. The Welsh did not farm in the same way as we did. Our slow progress allowed them to flee and, no doubt, tell others of our advance. We halted at Emlyn. There was another ruined castle here. The King and I could not understand why the Welsh would take a castle and then destroy it. Had they held it then we would have had a very hard job to retake it.
The castle rose on a rocky bluff above the Teifi river. The army camped below it while the King and I, along with Alfred and William explored the castle. The river looped around three sides of the castle. It reminded me of Durham but on a smaller scale. The motte had been built on top of rock and the castle had a stone gate. The Welsh had removed the gates and burned the wooden hall. We climbed to the fighting platform and surveyed the land.
I pointed to the flat ground before us. “We will fight the Welsh here!”
Alfred frowned, “How can you be sure that the Welsh will come?”
“I am not but even if they do not come and we moved west I would fall back here and use this as the battlefield.” I banged the parapet. “Our archers can be here. From this elevated position they can send their arrows further. We array our knights and men at arms between the two bends of the river. There it is but a hundred paces from bank to bank. The archers would be just a hundred and fifty paces from our front rank.”
“You would fight dismounted?”
“Aye, King Henry, in this case I would. Our knights and men at arms are better than the Welsh. We can put the fyrd south of the river. They would be protected but can use their slings and their bows to harass the Welsh whilst keeping them safe.” I saw him frown. “Even if they
do not attack because we have such a strong position we will have won for they will have ceased to besiege the Earl of Pembroke. Do not lose sight of that, majesty. It is the reason we are here. The reconquest of these lands is for the Marcher lords. We are here to bring succour to the Earl.”
When we rejoined the other lords at the camp we told them of our plan. Unlike the King Sir Reginald and Sir Gilbert understood it immediately. Jocelyn de Braose slapped his squire on the back. He had been told he could come back to Stockton with Alfred. “See, we shall come back from Cleveland with such skills that I will lead an army to retake Wales!”
His enthusiasm was infectious. He was an engaging young man. I saw his uncle smile at the thought of his sister’s son rising like a phoenix to conquer Wales. When Mordaf rode in, just before the watch was set, the others wondered if I was some sort of wizard. “Earl, the Welsh have lifted the siege. They march towards us. They will be here tomorrow.”
The King smiled, “Well, Earl, it seems we have the opportunity to see if your plan will succeed.”
The first thing we did the next morning was to cross the fyrd and the knights of Hereford over the river. They were to give the illusion that our army was spread out further than it was. While it was still dark the archers secreted themselves within the castle. They would remain hidden. None were left in the village and any Welsh scouts would have had trouble seeing them move. Stakes were embedded between the loops in the river. They were there to stop horses. Men could move between them. The men at arms dug a shallow ditch before the stakes. It quickly flooded and then the waters receded. The shallow ditch was refilled. It looked harmless but the water had made it a muddy morass. Men and horses would slip and slide when they tried to cross it. It was a trick and would not win the battle for us. It would just increase our odds of victory.