Hawkwood's Sword

by Frank Payton

  “Not just yet, Will. There are some preparations we have to make. We’ll need all the scaling ladders assembled and brought forward, preferably under cover of night. Any main attack will also have to be made at night when there is a full moon.”

  “So there are to be some lesser actions? Diversionary attacks?” Will persisted. “To cover what, exactly?”

  I could see that the time had come to tell all, and so I repeated what I had already told Albrecht and John Brise about the visit Ralph and Marco had paid to Lanzo during the night. I explained that the breach in the iron grille where the river passed under the walls had to be enlarged, and as quietly as possible. Also there was the hidden door to be properly explored, again on a moonlit night. Diversions were therefore to play an important part. My companions were frankly incredulous, and amazed that two young lads had had the nerve to undertake such an enterprise without any backing. Even Jack Onsloe was impressed by their bravery.

  After that revelation there was much speculation as to what could and should be done, but I was having none of it. The last thing I wanted was an inquisition into when, why and how, and so on. “No more questions, Will. My mind is not yet settled on this matter, and I have to speak to Master Sterz. You may all go about your duties. Patrols as usual. Everyone to keep their eyes open for any moves from the town. Most important of all, keep close what I have told you.”

  They heaved themselves off their backsides and passed out into the sunlight.

  “Andrew! A moment if you please,” I called to him.

  “Yes, Sir John?” He turned back toward me, clearly ill at ease.

  “I am surprised at you. I had expected better from you, of all people. You must get control of yourself, and also of your men. Work them harder. Slacking won’t do. Give them more weapon practice, jousts, mock battles, anything to get them off their behinds and prepared for action.”

  “I’ll try, Sir John. I’ll try harder. I’m sorry to have let things come to this pass.”

  He was now painfully embarrassed. The only one amongst us of gentle birth, he had elected to follow me rather than return to England, in the hope of restoring his family name and fortune.

  “Very well. Off with you now, and remember my words.”

  Thus I dismissed him, and turned to Ralph, who stood with Marco at the pavilion entrance.

  “Fetch the horses over. We will go and wait on Master Sterz.”

  Chapter 4

  Laying Siege

  Albrecht’s camp was ordered activity. Men-at-arms were practising armed combat, both on foot and on horseback. Two mounted squadrons wheeled and turned across the square, thundering towards each other with flying hooves, turning away only at the last moment before contact. It was a fine sight.

  Mustered with the Almain infantry was a small company of crossbowmen occupied in shooting at butts set up at about one hundred yards. There appeared to be some fair marksmen amongst them. Marco surveyed them with a critical eye.

  “They are good, Sir John, but they should learn to shoot in volleys as we were trained to do, not all together at once. To achieve an effective rate of shooting with crossbows, it is necessary to divide your men into three, or even four, groups. When the first group is shooting the second will just be taking aim. The third will be placing the bolt in the slot, and the fourth will be spanning the bow and drawing the string into the latch. Done in sequence by well-trained men, it is much more effective than each man shooting on his own account or a single mark.”

  I immediately grasped the principle. This was the only way that crossbowmen could come close to the rate of shooting with the longbow.

  “That is very good, Marco. You shall explain this to Master Sterz at a suitable time. Be sure of that. Now, what have we here?”

  There seemed to be a general brawl amongst a large group of men-at-arms on foot. Armed with thick wooden cudgels and wooden shields, they hammered away at each other as if in full battle. It was well that they were not using sharpened swords, or there would have real wounding, even death. As it was, several men had been knocked down and lay unmoving on the ground. Even as we looked on, others stirred and began to crawl out of the melee. By now we had been seen, and Albrecht’s page came forward to meet us.

  “Meister Sterz has sent me to escort you, Sir John. You will follow me, please.”

  He bowed in his stiff Almain fashion, and set off with us in his train. Wolf was a well set-up, confident young fellow with a sturdy frame and a mop of thick yellow hair. I always had to smile inwardly at his serious manner.

  Shortly afterwards we were received by Albrecht, and I was ushered to a chair of dark heavy wood, intricately carved. It looked as if it might once have stood in a monastery—an abbot’s seat, perhaps. Ralph and Marco stood behind me. Wolf set a cup of wine in front of me and retired to stand behind his master, who raised his own cup to me. We drank to each other silently. I could sense that Albrecht was seriously worried. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and smoothed his short beard. Always, since I had first met him in Koblenz twenty-odd years before, these had been sure signs of his concern over events.

  “What is it then, old friend?” I asked. “Have you too discovered some treachery?”

  “I fear it may be so. Nothing upon which I can put my finger; it is as yet only a mere suspicion that all is not well—a whisper, a small wind which ripples the grass and is gone. But I feel it. And you?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Not much more. One weak link, and the Bretons and Gascons are unhappy, I’m told. At this stage I fear we can but keep our eyes and ears open, and be ready for whatever may come.”

  Albrecht sipped his wine. “The most likely source of trouble would be from Count Landau, who might discreetly send agents to meet malcontents amongst my own Company in an attempt to turn them against the rest, and against your English. The siege of Lanzo could then be raised, and we would be under attack from two directions.”

  “But this is guesswork,” I replied. “We should turn our attention to the discoveries made last night by Ralph and Marco. We must seek out this mysterious door, and also test the watergates again. If these are as reported, then we have the town at our feet. We need a diversion to allow these matters to be looked into. It demands a dark night, and a small force equipped with tools and darkened lanthorns.”

  “Why not field a strong force of mounted men to make a slow passage around the town?” Albrecht suggested. “They would be fully armed and have all warlike intent. They would hold the attention of the defenders, and at intervals your archers could send showers of fire arrows into the town. These might start a few fires and create even more of a diversion. The Conte Verde could be misled into thinking a general attack was about to be launched.”

  I agreed at once. “Yes! Put Werner in charge of your people and I will send John Brise with ours. Giles Ashurst can take a couple of hundred archers in addition.”

  The rest of the plan fell easily into place. Marco would go with Albrecht and a picked band of Almains to investigate the watergates. Ralph would accompany me and a similar party to try and clear the door.

  *****

  The progress around the town began as the sun was setting. There was still enough light for the defenders to see that a large force had been deployed. As the darkness thickened, trumpets shrilled and lights could be seen on the town walls as men took up their defensive positions. The torches carried by our men were bobbing swords of flame, and their effect was as we expected. All eyes were drawn to the spectacle before them. So far as we could tell, no one saw our small band cross the ditch and make its way up to the foot of the wall.

  “Thus far, and all’s well,” muttered Will Preston in a hoarse whisper. “What now, Sir John?”

  “We follow Ralph’s lead. He’s the one who found the way. Lead on, boy.”

  Our eyes now became better accustomed to the darkness, and although the way was not easy over the broken ground, we made steady progress.

  At least we knew that,
perhaps with some exceptions, the defenders were concentrated at the point where our riders were passing by. We would therefore be able to work unseen. We trudged on in file. Some of the men carried spades and iron crowbars, in addition to their weapons. There were not a few grumbles and stifled curses when one or another stumbled, or fell against some hidden stone or dip in the ground. Clad in full armour as we were, we sweated greatly.

  At length Ralph stopped and whispered, “Here are the rocks in front of the door, Sir John. We will need some light to see clearly.”

  One of the men came forward with a small lanthorn. The shaded glow shone red on a wooden door set deep in the wall. No more than the height of a man, it was made of massy oak timbers and reinforced with iron bands. It was also half-buried in small stones and soil, and had an air of long disuse.

  “Come then,” said Will. “You Tom, and you Roger, break up this heap of soil, and you others shovel it back out of the way—but quietly. We don’t want stones or worse about our ears.”

  Will and I stood back out of the way whilst the work went ahead. We were all intrigued by the door. Why was it there at all? Was it a lure for attackers? Was it in fact a trap? Or was it an escape route? There was clearly only one way to find out, and I was determined that we should do so. Work progressed, but slowly, and we had to take care that when the riders passed by there should be no noise, and no lights to be seen. To this end I posted a sentry twenty paces further on, to give us warning that work should stop and we must take cover.

  As the horsemen went by we closed the lanthorns and crouched down amongst the rocks. On one of these occasions Giles’ archers played their allotted part. Dismounting, they formed up and sent a storm of fire arrows high over the wall just above our heads. It was a fine thing to hear the hiss of the shafts arcing over, and to see their fiery trails. We could also hear shouts of dismay as the arrows took effect and fires were started in many of the houses. When the archers ceased shooting the whole cavalcade continued on its way. We waited a while longer, then unshuttered our lanthorns and got back to our business. At last the door lay open to view, and the question on all our minds was how to enter.

  “We have no key,” said Will, “but it does not matter, as there’s no keyhole. The door is doubtless stoutly barred on the inner side. We could smash it open, but there would be too much clamour.”

  I agreed. “Too much now, but when we make a general attack there will be clamour enough to drown out the sound of such an attempt on the door."

  “What we need is a man inside the wall,” muttered Will in a low voice. “Remember, young Marco has been there already, if not at this point. If he could get to the other side of this door he might open it to us."

  I knew well what he was saying, but how to achieve it was a riddle to think on. “We can do no more for now, save get away before we are discovered. The dawn cannot be far off, and we must not be caught here.”

  The men gathered up their weapons, tools, and other equipment, and we began to retrace our steps towards the camp on the road. After the show of strength by our riders, and the excitement caused by their passage, in the main the town lay quiet; but above our heads we could hear the clink of weapons and the fall of iron-shod feet as the sentries on the wall passed and repassed each other, and their calls of recognition. At some points there was more activity and noise where houses had been set alight by the fire arrows and efforts continued to put out the fires.

  We reached Matt Sayers’ camp as dawn was beginning to show in the eastern sky. The darkness faded from deep blue to a lighter shade. A thin line of gold appeared on the horizon, ever widening as I watched, and grew more intense until the Sun himself rose above the hills and fields. Away in the countryside a cock crowed.

  Suddenly, for a few instants of time, I was at home in Sible Hedingham, waking in my bed in the chamber I shared with my elder brother John and young Nicholas. John would have already arisen and gone to his early duties in the tannery. My younger brother would get out of bed and fall to his knees in prayer. Already he was on his way to being a priest. He was so pious I would kick him in annoyance that he thought himself something of a saint at the age of eight. At two years older I couldn’t have given a damn about the next world anyway. After my work in the tannery there would be the village girls to chase, and then practice with my bow and arrows under the watchful eye of old Walter, who had fought for the King in the Scottish wars. Full of hair-raising tales he was—of skirmishes, sieges and the great Battle of Boroughbridge in the North Country, where the King won the day over the House of Lancaster. Even then I looked forward to winning honour upon the field of battle.

  The moment fled with the warning call of one of the guards, as we went in amongst the tents. Matt Sayers appeared before me, drawn sword in hand, flustered at our sudden appearance as if from nowhere.

  “What’s afoot, Sir John? Are we attacked? We had no warning. What-?”

  I held up my hand to stop the flow of words. “Be easy, Matt,” I laughed to see his worried face. “No, there is no attack. We have but spied out a little of the defences overnight. All we need now is sleep. But have no fear; when we make our attack, you shall not be left out!”

  It was then his turn to laugh, though rather more grimly.

  Before returning to the main camp I gathered the men about me and swore them to secrecy concerning the night’s work. “For remember, only we know about this door, plus Marco the Italian, who is now one of my pages. Severe punishment awaits any who give away this secret. You were all chosen for your trustworthiness, and I will reward your silence well.”

  There was an immediate chorus as they fiercely affirmed their loyalty, after which I sent them off to break their fast and to get some sleep.

  Followed by Ralph, I returned to my pavilion, where he helped me remove my armour. “Bring me a little to eat and drink, Ralph, and then take some rest,” I said. “That was a good night’s work, boy.”

  *****

  Later I sat drinking and toying with the food, thinking of a plan of action. It seemed to me that the complete plan should be known only to Albrecht and myself. The main attacking forces would be commanded by John Brise and Werner von Felsingen, whilst the approaches through the watergates and possibly the hidden door would have to be made by Albrecht and myself, each with a body of picked men. As I sat thus, Marco returned from the Almain camp and came to report. He was flushed with excitement over the night’s activities.

  “We were able to break aside all the bars in the eastern watergate. Master Sterz’s men had heavy hammers and steel chisels, which they used to remove the mortar holding the bars. They had files to cut the rusty metal. The way is now open. I am also to tell you that Master Sterz will come to see you after the noon meal. He will bring only Wolf.”

  “Good! That is just what I had hoped. Perhaps he guesses my own intent. Now go and rest. You have done well. Say nothing of last night’s work to anyone.”

  He smiled and bowed. “Trust me, Sir John. I shall not fail you.”

  *****

  Albrecht arrived as the sun was beginning his long golden descent to evening. I watched him, straight-backed as ever, clad in black and silver, armed only with a short sword and dagger, riding a dove-grey palfrey rather than Wotan, his black destrier. He was followed by Wolf on his own white horse, very correct and upright. I noticed how Albrecht looked over at the gate guards, evidently inspecting their appearance, weapons, and their demeanour.

  I had sent Andrew Belmonte on patrol to get him out of the way, and so the visitors were greeted at the gate by Will Preston and escorted over by him. Much to Will’s disappointment, I merely thanked him and sent him off about his own duties again.

  Ralph appeared, yawning from his sleep, and brought a flask of wine and a bowl of nuts, then took Wolf off to his own quarters. The pair always seemed to get on well together, although I thought that each must struggle to understand what the other said.

  Albrecht and I sat in the shade of my pavilion, and
I outlined my ideas and feeling about the attack on Lanzo. I told him about the door, and the likely problems of opening it. Together we discussed what Marco had told me.

  “I agree with your general plan, Jack, and will send Werner, Conrad, and von Auerbach to lead our main assault. Then I will attempt an entry through the eastern watergate with, say, three hundred picked men. So far as the door is concerned I feel you should post a guard on it, and wait. As for yourself, if Brise, Preston, and Onsloe lead your main attack, I think you should take your men through the western gate. This the weakest anyway, as you’ll recall. You should have little difficulty in breaking through.”

  “Why not break in the door?” I persisted, but he shook his head impatiently.

  “Think on it, Jack. We don’t know what lies on the other side. It may be blocked with masonry—maybe not. That is why I say guard it and wait. My own feeling is that it could well be an escape route for someone. But we don’t know, and it would be a waste of time to concentrate any force on it for too long. On the other hand, if you follow my suggestion you might make a useful catch.”

  In the end I had to agree that would be the best plan. The problem of opening the door was insurmountable. The attack, we decided, would be made that very night, at moonrise.

  *****

  The bustle of preparation was over, and our strength was now ranged against Lanzo in a steel ring encircling the town. As an angry red sun sank, the shadows deepened and darkness settled threateningly around the doomed defenders. The night sky was cloudless, dusted with a myriad of stars, an endless uncountable number of bright sparks of shimmering light.

  The walls and towers of the town were blocks of deepest black. There was a murmur of voices from our men, a deep laugh here and there, a clinking of weapons and the whickering of the few horses amongst their number, for most of the men were on foot, apart from the commanders and the scouts who would bear messages back and forth as the attack proceeded.