by Griff Hosker
I held my shield before me and rested my spear on the top. The knight with the red and green surcoat was heading for me. He had a full-face helmet and I could not see his face but I remembered his surcoat from Powys. At the feast he had barely been able to conceal his contempt for me. He would have to either jump or clamber over the dead horses before me. He must have lacked confidence in his horse, or his skill for he slowed. As his horse rose above me, its head covered in mail, I saw the lance, tipped and stinking come for my face. I had to not only avoid it striking me I had to avoid the splinters. He struck my shield and I turned the shield so that the lance did not shatter but slid down the side of my shield. As it did so I stepped closer in and rammed my spear into the chest of the horse. I was lucky for it hit its mighty heart. As it burst I was showered with blood. It fell sideways and broke off the head of my spear. I swung the broken shaft at the knight’s leg as he fell and then drew my sword.
I broke my own rule. I left the line and climbed on to a horse’s carcass. As the knight kicked his right leg free I brought my sword down and it cracked into the side of his left leg. The greave did not cover the side. I heard something crack and he screamed. He tried to push himself up and in doing so exposed his mail covered neck. I lunged and my sword tore through the mail links and into his throat. I ripped the blade out sideways as a lance was thrust down at me. As I deflected it Sir Edward rammed hard with his spear and knocked the knight from his saddle. Even though it meant leaving the safety of my line I ran towards the stricken knight. He was another with a dung covered lance and I thrust my sword up between his legs. There was neither mail nor gambeson there. I twisted as I pulled it out and brought entrails and organs with it.
I felt William tugging me, “Back, father, I beg of you!”
I realised that I was beyond the last of the broken stakes. My knights stood in a defensive half circle ready to rush to my aid if I failed to heed William’s words. I hurried back but we had broken this second attack. Once again, my household knights and I were surrounded with dead knights and their bodies. As I walked back a knight of Deheubarth lay beneath his horse. He had discarded his helmet. “Help me lord and I will yield.”
I sheathed my sword, “William, pull him free when I lift the saddle.” The horse was a dead weight but by using a broken spear I was able to lever it sufficiently for William to pull his leg free.
“I thank you lord.”
“William, take him to the castle!”
We had held them again but I saw that the knights who had fought in the front rank were weary. It was time to change. “Second rank change places with the front rank.” The move brought the Sheriff and Sir Reginald to the front as well as some of my men at arms. Jocelyn de Braose took the place of Alfred. I saw them clasp arms and speak as they did so. I took off my helmet as we awaited the next attack. William had delivered his captive and he handed me an ale skin. I drank deeply. He said, “Father your sword is notched.”
“There is no time to sharpen it. I will have to use it as it is.”
Alfred took off his helmet as he joined us in the second rank. “We held them. This, I think, will be the crucial charge.”
I nodded. The Prince had kept his best men until now. He thought we were ready to defeat for we had been weakened. If he chose not to attack then we would have won and if they did then all we had to do was hold them. That would be easier said than done for our best men had fended off their two charges. Would a line held by the likes of the Sheriff, an old warrior like Sir Reginald and the young de Braose be enough?
“William, take Henry and the other squires. Fetch as many throwing spears and darts as you can.”
As our squires ran off Sir Edward said, “I am not sure there are many darts, lord.”
“No matter how few there are we can use them. Our spears are shattered. We need to attack them every way we can. David and his archers can only do so much. The Welsh are not sending their men without mail. They wait to see us broken and then they will send those to us. We break this attack and we win.”
Sir Peter said, “That sounds desperate lord.”
“These are desperate times. King Llewellyn has sent his men to aid the Prince. Those extra men have made the difference.”
The squires returned with eighty or so throwing spears and thirty darts. I had them distributed to the men who were now in the second rank. Our third rank was made up of men at arms who either did not have mail or, like Ralph of Appleby, had mail but had suffered a wound. They were there for moral support. I glanced across the river. I was tempted to order the men of Hereford and the fyrd to join us but I held my nerve. I looked at the ground behind us. It was flat to the castle. If we had to then we could fall back and fight before the walls. Then the fyrd could use their weapons. The switch had already moved us back four paces. Sir Reginald and the Sheriff had wanted a patch of ground unencumbered with bodies, blood and guts.
A Welsh horn sounded and the lines began to move. I donned my helmet and picked up my throwing spear. The Prince was using all of his horsemen in two lines. Their approach was more cautious. He had seen the knights slip at the muddy section. The stakes were now completely gone but there was a wall of dead over which they would have to clamber. These were the best knights Deheubarth had and they jumped the horses and men. Some of the bodies became mangled by hooves but this was war and the Prince was gambling all. They did not hit our line at speed. It was little more than a canter but they were facing men who were not as good as we had been. None fled but there was a distinct lack of confidence amongst some of the knights of Gloucester. This was not their land.
Lances were raised and thrust. There was a clatter of splintering wood and I saw that the Sheriff was wounded. Jocelyn de Braose showed great courage by stepping across the Sheriff so that he could be lifted to his feet. Ridley the Giant and Henry Youngblood braced them with their shields. I pulled back my arm as the Prince’s standard bearer pulled back on his reins to make his horse rear his hooves at Sir Reginald. I hurled my spear. The standard bearer had had to stand to make his horse rear. The banner fluttered behind him and my spear hit him under his right arm. His left arm pulled his horse around and the standard of Deheubarth fled the field. The Welsh continued to press and I saw that we were losing too many men. The neck of land between the rivers narrowed behind us. We would have a narrower frontage to fight.
I took off my helmet and shouted, “On my command take five steps backwards! Now!” The five steps proved to be ten for the Welsh pressed and pushed. Our flanks became more secure and, donning my helmet I pressed my shield into the back of Sir Reginald. Then I heard the sound of stones and arrows on metal. The Sheriff of Hereford had brought the fyrd to the river bank. They were pouring arrows and stones into the right sides of the Welsh. There the enemy had no shield to protect them. The flanks of the horses were exposed. I was close enough to see the stone which struck the Prince on the side of the head. It stunned him. It was the final blow. A horn sounded and the Welsh fled backwards. They left twenty dead knights and countless riderless horses. We had won the battle now we had to win the peace.
Chapter 14
King’s Council
The King rode forward when it was clear that the Welsh had ceased to fight. I ordered the fyrd and the men of Hereford to cross the river and bolster our numbers. We took the wounded to be healed. The Sheriff had to be carried. Six more knights had yielded and they joined the ones we held at the castle. The Welsh would rue the day they destroyed and then abandoned the castle at Emlyn. The steady rain of arrows had sapped their will to fight. “Fetch our horses forward.”
Sir Reginald said, “You would continue to fight?”
“I do not wish to but I will make the threat. Our horses are fresh. If we mount then the men on foot will be hunted down and slaughtered.”
The horses were fetched and the men of Hereford and the fyrd began to swell our numbers. It had an effect. There was a debate at the Welsh camp. The Prince’s standard bearer and the Bi
shop approached our lines. I saw that the standard bearer had his right arm in a sling. I stood with the King, de Clare and de Braose to speak with them. The standard bearer looked to me although his words were for the King. “My lord, we would clear our dead from the field and then we would speak of peace.”
I nodded, “Aye for we have many knights to ransom and there is the question of reparations.” I turned to the King. “Where would you speak, King Henry?”
He smiled and pointed to the castle. “Tell your Prince that I will meet with him inside our castle. I would do so before it is dark. We have an appetite and there is much Welsh horseflesh upon which to feast.” I hid my smile. The King had learned much. He was telling the Welsh that we had won and we would determine the terms.
The Bishop looked at the standard bearer and said, “Yes, Your Majesty, it will be as you determine.”
After they had gone I said, “Ridley, have our men collect the treasure and have some of the horse carcasses butchered. Light fires on which to cook them. William, fetch Mordaf and Gruffyd.” We walked back to the castle. I saw the healers working on the wounded. Some would lose limbs, others would lose their lives but we had lost fewer men than we might thanks to the intervention of the fyrd.
My two archers greeted me with happy expressions, “Yes, my lord?”
“Ride around the rear of the Welsh camp and get as close as you can. I would know what they are saying.”
They nodded. Mordaf said, “It will be dark when we return, lord.”
“No matter. These talks will resume on the morrow. Unless I miss my guess, the Prince is not the one who is in command here.”
Gilbert de Clare asked, “Then who?”
“The King of Gwynedd or one he trusts.”
I handed my sword and helmet to William. He would put an edge to my blade. The King’s servants, aided by Egbert and the others, had found some chairs and a table in the wrecked castle. They had placed them in the inner ward. I saw that James of Corfe had ringed them with his men. Wearing the King’s livery, they made a statement. The King of England had won the battle. The King, Sir Reginald, Sir Gilbert and myself sat on one side of the table. We had the only chairs. On the Welsh side was a log. It was lower than the chairs on which we sat and they would have to look up at the King. Egbert and the servants knew how these things worked. They brought us beakers of ale to quench our thirst. William brought a bucket of river water and he helped me to clean most of the blood from my mail. Blood was easier to clean when it was fresh. We did not have time to fetch a fresh surcoat but the bloody one I wore would be a reminder of how many Welshmen I had killed.
The Welsh Prince, the Bishop and the four lords he brought with him rode through our men who were stripping the dead of their weapons, mail and valuables. They dismounted and walked to the table. We offered them no ale. I saw the tic of anger in the Prince’s eye as they sat. The King said nothing but pointedly drank some ale and then smiled.
The Prince was looking at me. Eventually he said, “You have a well-deserved reputation, Earl. You fought well.”
“You lead brave men too, Prince.”
Silence fell. Eventually the Bishop said, “There are men whose souls need me, my lords. Let us speak of peace and then I can return to minister to their needs.”
The King nodded, “You are quite right Bishop. Prince Maelgwn ap Rhys, we came here to right the wrongs of your attack on our Marcher lords, their lands and their people. God has been on our side and we have prevailed. You will return all captives taken in your raids. You will take your men from any castles and manors you have occupied.” He paused and the King nodded. “In addition, I will have you swear that you will not attack Gower, Pembroke or Glamorgan again. Those lands are not part of Deheubarth.”
“Your majesty, they were!”
The King smiled, “And now they are not and we have the right and the might to defend them.” It was as clear a statement as one could make and the King nodded. “As for reparations… I have need to speak to my lords for it is they who have suffered.”
“Reparations?”
“Punishment! King Henry, my great grandsire, took ten thousand head of cattle when he defeated Gwynedd. We will debate this night what we require.” Already the smell of cooking horseflesh was drifting towards us. “Victory has given me an appetite.” He smiled, “You will need to speak with your lords and the Bishop has souls to save.”
They trudged unhappily off. I smiled at the King. “You are learning, my lord.”
“And your scouts may discover more which might aid us. Besides I was not certain what reparations we wanted.”
Sir Jocelyn had been listening, along with my son, “As much as we can get. It will stop the Welsh from taking from us. It worked with the Scots.”
“It did.”
While the food was being prepared I went to see my men at arms. None of my archers had suffered a wound but some of my men at arms had. I saw that their wounds were not serious. Poor Harry son of John had been the only man we had lost. His death and the cause still niggled in my head. “When the talks are done I will take my men at arms to London. The wounded and the archers can return with my knights to Stockton.”
Ralph of Appleby said, “The wound will not impair me, lord.”
“I know, Ralph, but I only need an escort. There will be no fighting.” I hoped that was true. The Welsh had prevented me from helping to secure the rebel castles for the King. Bedford and others still held out but I knew that the Council needed the King in London. I would travel home after London before the serious work of securing England for King Henry could begin.
Not long before dark the sentries on the walls reported a handful of banners coming from the south. They did not worry me but I had men at arms and archers mount to investigate. When they rode in it was the retinue of the Earl of Pembroke. He brought with him his son Richard and twenty knights. When the King approached the Earl dropped to one knee, “My liege, I hoped that you would come to my aid but I knew that we are on the edge of your world. I thank you.”
“Rise Earl, it is the Earl of Cleveland you should thank for he is the architect of our victory!”
William and I had fought together and he grinned as he clasped my arm, “Thomas, you are ever the rock my father said you would be. He spoke of you to the end. He said you were King Henry’s hope and I can see it is true.” He surveyed the wounded who were being tended. “We came as soon as we could. The rest of my men will be here by morning. Has the battle been fought?”
“Aye and we won thanks to the Earl’s plan. We made demands and tomorrow their Prince will return so that we can tell them what reparations we demand.”
While their horses were attended to we told the Earl of our demands. He nodded, “You are right about our castles, lord. We allowed them to fall into disrepair. It was a mistake. I swear to you that it will not happen again.” He sniffed the air. “Are we too late for food?”
Gilbert de Clare laughed, “The Earl’s archers slew many horses. There is more than enough.”
We were still eating and the sun had long set when Mordaf and Gruffyd rode quietly in. I gathered our captains and lords together so that they could hear their report. “You have hurt them badly, lord. They can muster barely a hundred knights. The fyrd are already heading north and west. We saw a covey of men at arms sneaking off with stolen sumpters laden with booty. The men of Deheubarth are defeated.”
I heard a note of caution in Mordaf’s voice, “But?”
He grinned, “Aye lord, there is a but. The King of Gwynedd is there with twenty of his knights. We managed to get close enough to the camp fire of the King and the Prince to hear some of their words. The King was unhappy that the Prince lost some of the King’s best knights. There is discord in their camp.”
King Henry said, “Discord; that is a good thing, surely.”
Mordaf nodded, “Aye King Henry but King Llewellyn wants the war prosecuting further. He said he has men coming from Powys to reinforce him. He
was angry that the siege of Pembroke was lifted.”
I nodded, “So it was as we thought. The King of Gwynedd is behind this.” I turned to William Marshal. “Could you have someone reach your men? I think that the sight of an army arriving from the south west might just discourage any further talk of war.”
“Aye lord.”
“They would need to time their arrival perfectly. When the Prince and Llewellyn are at the peace table would be best.”
“Let me go, father!”
The Earl of Pembroke looked at his son. “Aye. Take my knights with you. Their banners will add to our enemies’ dismay!”
After they had gone we devised a strategy for the talks which would benefit us and discomfit the Welsh.
We rose at dawn and I had the men stand to. Mordaf’s words had been a warning and I would heed it. We saw the Prince, Bishop and knights as they rode towards us. The Earl of Pembroke was disguised with a cloak but he stood close to the negotiating table between Jocelyn de Braose and my sons. The Prince looked like he had slept but a little. I spoke before they could. I wanted them off guard. “Bishop, it seems a little disingenuous of you to speak of peace when there is another in your camp whose voice holds more sway than Prince Maelgwn ap Rhys.”
“My lord, I know not what you mean!”
“You are a man of God and I do not expect lies from you. King Llewellyn of Gwynedd is in your camp! You sir,” I jabbed a finger at a knight, “fetch him hither or this meeting is over and there will be war!”
The Prince’s shoulders sagged and he nodded, “Do as this wizard demands! It seems he can see through the cloak of night and hear conversations which should be private.”
We said nothing while we waited but William, my squire, slipped away to tell the sentry on the highest tower to send the signal. The men of Pembroke would begin their march. We had to wait for some time before the King appeared. He was accompanied by his son, Dafydd ap Llewelyn. This was his second son for his eldest, Gruffyd, had been held hostage by King John and Dafydd ap Llewelyn would be the next King of Gwynedd. He was barely a youth but his presence showed the importance of our battle.