Hawkwood's Sword

by Frank Payton

  Ralph continued the tale. “We could then do naught else but to walk all the way around the walls to where the stream ran out from under. There we tried again, and this time we were lucky. One of the bars was rusted almost to nothing, and we broke it and thrust ourselves through. There however, the water was deeper, and we had difficulty in wading out and climbing up the bank.”

  Marco took up the story again. “We crept out of the water and into the shelter of a nearby house, to try and wring the water from our clothes. Then we went into the street, and just lost ourselves in the crowds of people and soldiers. Men were bivouacked everywhere, and occupied many houses as well. It seems most of the townspeople had been told to flee to the country for safety, especially young girls and women.”

  I laughed. “That will be a great disappointment for our people. We’ll keep that to ourselves. But what do you think their strength is?”

  “I can’t be sure,” said Marco. “There must be several thousands. There are crossbowmen and spearmen, and a goodly number of men-at-arms. We saw many horses stabled about the place, so they could ride out upon us if they chose. Some of the men were grumbling because the Count is safely lodged in the tower. At least we know where he is.”

  “What preparations seem to have been made to defend the town?” I asked.

  “We saw constant patrols along the walls, and men stood to in readiness to rush forwards and man the fighting positions. Baskets of stones have been placed where they can be thrown down on any attacker. That is really all we can say about that, but there is more to tell. When we felt we could see no more we returned to the river, plunged through the water, and so out again under the wall. We decided to return by walking right around the town, and by doing so we found something which could be very important.”

  “Yes, well, and what is that?” I was impatient to know the full extent of their discoveries before we were interrupted. The knowledge had to be mine alone, at least to begin with. Marco was not to be hastened however, and only after finishing his wine did he continue.

  “About halfway back we found ourselves climbing over a heap of large rocks, which have bushes growing amongst them. Between the stones and the wall, it is very narrow. Luckily we took that way, and we found that down there is a small door, partly covered by soil and rubble. It is in a corner where one of the buttresses stands out from the wall.”

  I sat back in my chair, my imagination whirling. This was unbelievable luck, that two virtually untried lads should be giving us the town! Now we had three secret ways through the walls, although the door would have to be cleared, and the full extent of the entrance explored. It was possible, of course, that behind the actual door the whole thing could be blocked by new masonry, not easily removed.

  “You’ve both done well, very well indeed, and you can expect to be well rewarded. Now go away, and when I next see you, I shall expect you to look more like soldiers than vagrants.”

  They grinned at each other, saluted me, and left. Moments later John Brise shouldered his way through the pavilion entrance and sat down at the board.

  “What have those two been up to?” he rumbled. “No good, I’ll be bound.”

  “Not so, John. In fact, they have done something very praiseworthy. But more of that later. What do you want of me?”

  “Have you thought, Jack, that we can cut off the water supply to the town? We can dam the river to the east; let it flow into the moat and so away. They’ll not like that, no water for men or horses. It would shorten the siege.”

  “Yes, I had thought of it, but now I think it would be useful to dam up the water for another reason. Again, more of that later, when we discuss tactics with Albrecht and the others. We must lay careful plans for this one, John. There’ll be no stupid rushing in with frontal attacks, which only lose us men and equipment, all for naught.”

  He scratched his head. “So, what do we do now? Sit and wait, is that all?”

  “For the present, yes. We have disposed our forces, made it clear that we intend to stay. When the Count looks out from his tower, what will he see?”

  “Not many men, that’s for sure. That might tempt him to sally out and try to break free. We would have to throw in more men to contain a general breakout, which would soon reveal our hand, and our true numbers. We could only keep that secret if we attacked at night.”

  “I agree, but you know, I think he will stay where he is. Besides, I should think he has a better idea of our true numbers than we imagine. It is fairly certain that we were watched on our approach here. No, I feel it is most likely that messengers have been sent to Milan, asking for assistance. For the present I think we can afford to await events. Do not relax patrols though, and some show of force about the countryside would not go amiss. Keep the men occupied, let them burn a few farms and villages. That should give the Count some reason for concern.”

  “Perhaps…"

  I paused. “But enough of this. Pour yourself a cup of wine, and then we will go and seek out Albrecht. I have much to discuss with him. Do not, however, show any surprise at anything I have to say.”

  The discussions had to wait. We were interrupted by a messenger from Matt Sayers, who commanded the men on the road to the west of Lanzo. The messenger slid off his horse and came to the door of the pavilion, a bold, swanky lad with red hair under a close-fitting archer’s steel cap. He stared at us. It was clear from his manner that he had not been in the presence of his leaders before, and was not sure how to address us, myself in particular. He looked uncertainly from one to another.

  “I have a message for Sir John,” he began awkwardly. “From Master Sayers.”

  “I am John Hawkwood. What have you to say to me? Take your time. I won’t eat you.”

  “Master Sayers says to tell you that, shortly after we had roused ourselves this morning and changed the guard, the gates before us opened and two men rode out, a herald and a man-at-arms. The herald asked to speak to our chief men on behalf of the Count of Savoy, or some such person. That is all I know, sir. I have done as charged. May I say aught to Master Sayers for you?”

  “You may tell him that I and Master Brise will join him directly, and we will bring the leaders of the Almains with us.”

  He saluted and made for his horse. I called after him for his name.

  “It is Jenkin, Sir John—Jenkin Cope, out of Suffolk.”

  He mounted his horse and rode off as if the Devil were after him. John chuckled in his beard. “You certainly put the fear of God into that one, Jack. Good Lord preserve us, has all the wine gone? I suppose we had better arm ourselves. D’you want me to send a runner to Albrecht?”

  “Yes, and send that rascal Ralph to me, will you, with my armour and my parade shield. Make sure he’s cleaned himself up. Tell him to bring Marco as well.”

  *****

  Later we rode out towards the town, where we were joined by Albrecht, von Felsingen and Harzmann.

  “Good Day, Jack.” Albrecht brought his horse alongside mine; von Felsingen dropped back next to John, who acknowledged him with a brief nod. “What can we expect, do you think?”

  “Not much more than a curious look-over, and defiance, I’d say. They probably won’t know what to make of us yet. But their spies will have been active, that’s for sure.”

  “They might try to buy us off.”

  “Why should they? They’re in a strong position. Walled tower, new fortress tower, and a goodly number of men, I should think. They’ll guess we don’t have siege engines. Mercenaries like us seldom do. No, they’ll want to sit it out. With adequate supplies, and water, this could take weeks, as they see it.”

  Albrecht glanced at me with raised eyebrows. “But not as you see it, I think, Jack. You have surely realised, as have I, that we control the water supply. The stream can be directed into the ditch, is that not so?”

  “Yes, but if we do that we expose the water-gates, and those could be useful to us in an attack, a way to get into the town unseen. But you and I alone mus
t discuss this later.” I continued in a quieter voice. “I can tell you now, for your ear alone, that Ralph and Marco got into the town last night under one of the water-gates, and spied out the position. I will let you know more details later. Also, there is a small half-hidden door which must be explored somehow.”

  “Du lieber Gott! Those two boys?! You sent them on such a madcap prank? What were you thinking of?” He eyed me as if I were mad.

  “I? I was fast asleep and knew naught about it until this morning. They told me all—and valuable information it is, too.”

  We had now drawn close to Matt Sayers’ small command. He came out to meet us, together with Simon Bawdesley. Matt was my idea of a good soldier. He kept himself and his weapons and other equipment clean, and saw to it that the men under him did the same. The men also trusted and respected him, which is always a good sign amongst soldiers. He was tall, with short greying hair and beard. In England he had been a smith before taking to the life of a soldier. Old Simon I had known for many years, and we had been together at Crecy Field.

  Matt saluted us both. “Good Day, Sir John, and also to you, Master Sterz. The Count’s herald is still a-horseback and waiting on the road. I offered him hospitality, but he refused. His name is Oderigo Morelli.”

  “Thank you, Matt. We’ll go to him straightway.”

  “I’ve stood the men to, Sir John, just in case this is a device to take us unawares.”

  “That was well done, Master Sayers,” said Albrecht, unusually for him.

  I had noticed that he seldom addressed our English lower ranks directly, but I had also seen him glance around with approval at the neat guard camp straddling the road, and the men drawn up in ranks ready for action.

  Our small party moved from the rear and approached the herald. We halted some twenty yards short, then Albrecht and I continued until we were face to face. Morelli was a small, dignified figure in semi-military dress. His sharp, dark eyes regarded us keenly. Behind him, also mounted, was a man-at-arms in full armour, who bore a light lance with a pennon bearing the device of a black eagle on a silver field. The herald wore a cap of black velvet with a white plume secured by a jewelled clasp. He swept the cap from his head with some elegance, bowed slightly and spoke.

  “I am Oderigo Morelli, Herald to His Excellency the Count of Savoy, against whose town you come bearing arms,” he said in heavily accented English. “I am required to ask who you are, and by whom you are so employed.”

  Albrecht bowed in his turn and answered for us. “I am Albrecht Sterz of Mecklenburg, and my companion is John Hawkwood, an English knight, lately serving in the army of Edward, King of England, whom I also had the honour to serve. Our service at present is to the noble Marquis of Monferrato, and we aid him against the Visconti of Milan.”

  “We are not aware that you have any dispute with my master,” said the herald. “He demands that you pass on in peace, and cease from despoiling his lands.”

  “But you must know that your master is in open alliance with Milan, and he bears heavily on the lands belonging to Monferrato,” responded Albrecht.

  Morelli gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. “If that is so, and I do not say that it is, then it is not your concern. An you do not pass on in peace, we shall be obliged to come forth in attack. Your defeat is assured. I should warn you that we are strong in numbers, whereas you are too few. Even with your men at the other gate, you are too few. I repeat—this is not your land. Leave in peace.”

  “That is not possible,” I replied, “until we bring a peace of our choosing and our making to the enemies of the Marquis.”

  The herald was silent for a moment, then spoke shortly. “I will give your reply to my master.”

  He replaced his bejewelled cap, bowed in salute, and turned his horse towards the town once more. We watched as the pair cantered off, and as the gates opened to receive them. Visible inside was a mass of armed men drawn up in ranks, probably as a show of strength. The gates closed with a dull boom.

  We rode slowly back to the camp on the road. Matt Sayers met us, eager for information.

  “What’s to do, Sir John? Will they surrender the town to us, or do we have to fight for it?”

  I laughed. “You’ll have to earn your pennies with the sword, Matt. You would have been disappointed else, if I know you well. Stand the men down; they’ll not be needed yet a while, but keep a close watch on those gates—beware.”

  “Well, you’re right about the sword, Sir John. I’d liefer fight for my pay than take it easily, but there’s those who wouldn’t. I ought to tell you now that there are too many whisperings that this is a bad campaign. Too much action and too little to show for it.”

  Albrecht overheard this despite Matt’s lowered voice. “Is this serious?” he asked. “If so, we had better look into the matter without delay. We can’t be caught out here in a foreign land by a mutiny. What do you know about this, Master Sayers, or are you guessing?”

  “What I know comes from your own man, Wilhelm Steiner. He and I talked when we came here on this detail, before he set up his own camp at the next gate.” Matt waved an arm in the direction of the north side of the town. “He said there was word amongst your Almains that some wished to break off and join with the Count Landau, who serves the tyrant of Milan. He has a band of your countrymen, and some Hungarians under him. Wilhelm was thinking it was just campfire talk. You know how it is; but he was worried.”

  “Then he should have told me!” Albrecht stared at Matt, clearly aghast at this news. He turned to von Felsingen, who with Harzmann and Wolf, his page, sat their horses a little to our rear.

  “Werner, and you Conrad, ride back to camp. I shall stay with Sir John and return later. Wolf, stay by me.”

  Thus dismissed, the two knights rode off, soon urging their mounts into a gallop, racing back to their camp. Albrecht saw this and shook his head at the levity. Wolf urged his horse to stand behind him. “Wolf, go to the North Gate, and tell Meister Steiner that I wish to see him here without delay. Do not wait for him but return immediately to me. Verstehst Du?”

  “Ja, mein Herr!” and the boy saluted and cantered off on his errand.

  We dismounted and stretched our legs, walking about the small camp. Albrecht had little to say; I think he was taken aback by the news. Wolf returned before too long and reported that Steiner was on his way.

  When he did arrive, Albrecht took him a little to one side to hear his report of the matter. Since their speech was all in the Almain tongue, I had no idea what was said, but guessed that Steiner was receiving a severe dressing down from his leader. After dismissing him, Albrecht returned to where I waited by the horses.

  “It is clear that I shall have to look further into this business, Jack, but I want to avoid involving Werner and his shadow. I’m never altogether happy with the pair of them. I shall take von Auerbach into my confidence on this. I know him to be totally reliable.”

  I nodded my approval. “And for my part, I shall have to find out if there are any like feelings amongst my men. Unfortunately they are not all English, as you know. The Bretons and Gascons are an unruly lot. If I am to have any defections it may well be from within their ranks, but one never knows for sure.” At that, we parted for our own camps. First, however, I rejoined John Brise, Ralph and Marco, who had been waiting patiently whilst all this was going forward. Now we all set off for the main camp. I gave John the gist of what had happened. As I expected, he exploded indignantly.

  “Any troublemakers amongst my lot with find themselves at the end of a rope! Too much action, is there? To my mind there’s not enough to keep them occupied. We should attack this Lanzo as soon as possible, and get the men’s minds on their work. Too much idling around campfires, if you ask me!”

  I let him run on in this vein for a while, but listened with only one ear. I was trying to decide upon my own best course of action over this seemingly impending mutiny. I could not ignore such a threat.

  On our return to camp I se
nt for Will Preston, William Turton, Andrew Belmonte, Jack Onsloe and Giles Ashurst. They trooped into my pavilion and joined John Brise and myself at the long table. Ralph and Marco put out wine, fruit and nuts, then stationed themselves at the door. Briefly I set out my reasons for the gathering, and added that Albrecht was holding a similar meeting at his own camp.

  “Naturally you will all keep this to yourselves for the present. But I want you to tell me if there is anything for me to be concerned about amongst our men.”

  “There’s nothing stirring in my company,” said Jack. “They wouldn’t dare, not after what happened at Lyons. I hanged six who lagged behind in the attack on the breach. That steadied any troublemakers.” He shot a dark look around the table as if in triumph.

  “You can rely on the archers, Sir John,” said Giles. “They still look upon you as one of their own, despite your knighthood.”

  “I’m pleased to hear that, Giles, though it is long years since I drew bowstring in battle.”

  The two Williams also backed their men. No disloyalty there. The only exception was Andrew Belmonte, who hesitated, looked down, and unceasingly twisted the end of his sword belt this way and that.

  “Well, Andrew,” I said, “what about your Bretons and the like?”

  “Er…well…hmm, Sir John, I can’t really say for sure. They’re a bit undisciplined, I know, but I don’t think they would desert. I…I…” His voice trailed off uncertainly.

  “Have you heard anything or not!” barked John Brise. “Well? Have you?”

  Andrew sat up straight and took up his wine cup, which he drained in one gulp. “I think some of the Bretons want to go home to Brittany, and the Gascons feel they are too far from home here in Italy. They worry about their families, but I still don’t think they would just desert to the other side.” He sat back in his seat avoiding my eye. “I’ll be more alert and see what I can find out.”

  Will Preston spoke up. “When are we going to attack the town?”