Hawkwood's Sword

by Frank Payton

  “Of course. It will be arranged. Go now, and select your party; the others will be looked after by my lieutenants.”

  I stood up and shook his hand. He had a firm grip and a steady eye, and I knew he would be a hard adversary in a fight if it should come to that pass.

  *****

  Towards noon next day, I sent John Brise and a suitably turned out guard of honour to accompany de Grandison and his party to Lanzo. I had taken care to inform the Count of Savoy of his arrival, sending Matt Sayers as herald, with a single man-at-arms bearing my knight’s pennon, and Marco. They were met by Morelli, Savoy’s herald, and the whole affair was conducted with the utmost attention to etiquette.

  The previous evening, Albrecht had eagerly accepted my invitation to dine, and had brought along von Felsingen, Harzmann, and von Auerbach. I had feared some friction between those present, but as matters were the meal had something of a festive air, a meeting of military men from the late wars, happy to exchange experiences and tales of past exploits over the table.

  There was no rancour on anyone’s part. Even von Felsingen showed a side of his character previously unknown to me. He had brought along a small stringed instrument, and to its accompaniment sang several songs in the Almain tongue, songs for soldiers to sing in just such circumstances. He soon had the rest of us roaring out the choruses in sound, if not in the exact words.

  De Grandison, Albrecht and I finally settled down to a serious discussion of the situation. For our part, we left the Pope’s envoy in no doubt as to the eventual outcome of the siege. As a military man of some experience, he was obliged to accept the truth of our words. We controlled Savoy’s water supply, and there could by then have been little food for men or fodder for horses left in the stronghold. There was also virtually no chance of being relieved by a Milanese force against the Pope’s wishes.

  Thus, the following morning, after a tour of our encampment, de Grandison and his men were taken through the gates of Lanzo and were met by Morelli. Albrecht and I watched as they entered the fortress and the iron gates closed with a hollow clang.

  “And now we wait, my friend,” said Albrecht, turning his horse’s head.

  “Yes,” I agreed, following suit. “And double the watch on the keep.”

  We rode out of the town side by side.

  *****

  It was evening on the third day after de Grandison’s arrival when Oderigo Morelli rode into the camp, accompanied by a man-at-arms and escorted by Matt Sayers.

  Again we sat at table, this time in Albrecht’s pavilion. It was a brave display, with the tapestry-hung walls and the silver vessels upon the table glowing in the golden candlelight. By chance, all those present were decked out in their best clothes, for that night we celebrated our host’s birthday.

  Morelli had been reluctant to enter the pavilion, but we refused to meet him elsewhere, and so perforce he found himself before the high table to deliver his message. He took off his black velvet cap with a flourish, and bowed deeply.

  “I am come, my lords, on behalf of His Excellency the Count of Savoy. He has heard that you are willing to consider proposals from him which might cause you to lift the siege of Lanzo, and pass on about your business elsewhere. His Excellency therefore proposes that emissaries from both sides should meet at noon on the morrow to discuss matters of common interest. How say you?”

  We all looked to Albrecht. After all, we were on his ground. Upon him fell the burden.

  “Answer for us,” I said. “It is your right.”

  He picked up his wine cup, peered into it, and then raised it to his lips. Morelli fidgeted, twisting his cap in his hands, and shifting from one foot to the other. The cup emptied, Albrecht replaced it upon the table. Wolf leaned over his shoulder with the silver jug and refilled it. Morelli waited.

  “It might suit our purposes to stay here yet a while,” said Albrecht. “We may do better to continue our exploration of your master’s lands, more profitable, perhaps.”

  The herald’s face fell, taken aback by this answer. He made a valiant attempt at recovery. “Perhaps,” he gulped visibly, “your Lordships would accord the Count an opportunity to discuss these matters in person, at your pleasure.”

  Albrecht allowed a faint smile to flicker across his face. “Are we to understand the Count is disposed to be generous?” he said softly.

  “I think his Excellency would not wish to act dishonourably towards you. Indeed, I am certain that he would not.” Morelli seemed eager to please.

  Albrecht looked along the table from side to side. “Shall we meet this Count of Savoy, comrades? At noon tomorrow, perhaps? Jack, what do you say?”

  I nodded my head slowly, and grinned back at him. Raising my cup I said, “Why not?” drained the last of the good red wine, and began to laugh. The others followed my lead, and of a sudden the whole group was consumed by mirth, tossing down the contents of the cups, and slapping each other on the back like schoolboys.

  We had won! The siege of Lanzo was as good as over.

  *****

  Little remains to be said of the affair at Lanzo. The day after Morelli stood before Albrecht’s table, we met Amadeus VI—’The Green Count’—before the doors of his castle in the middle of the town. Also present were de Grandison, Morelli, and sundry others of the court. There were few formalities and little discussion. Through the mouth of de Grandison we were offered 50,000 florins to go away. We were unmoved. The sum offered slowly crawled up to 90,000. I tired of this parsimony. Our horses shifted their hooves restively, jingling their harness.

  “Tell the Count, Sir William, that we need 200,000 florins,” I said, gathering Boy’s reins as if to leave. “Deux cent mille florins,” I repeated, and watched the Count’s face turn pale. There was a hurried consultation in low voices before de Grandison again turned to face us.

  “That is an enormous sum, Sir John,” he said. “The Count would find such an imposition very difficult to bear. A reduction, perhaps?” he added, hopefully.

  “Does the Count wish us to continue the siege?” inquired Albrecht.

  “No, no. But, Sirs, this is a vast sum, “ de Grandison repeated, clearly put about by the demand. “You are hard men to deal with, but there is a limit to the Count’s purse. Please abate your figure by but a little and I will put certain proposals to his Excellency which may secure agreement.”

  “Well then,” I said. “As a token of our goodwill we will take only 180,000 florins. No less, mind. Do not seek a further reduction, or your good offices will fail.”

  With great reluctance the Count agreed to our demand, and de Grandison undertook to arrange for the payment to be made within a month.

  Just three weeks later Will Turton, as our Treasurer, had the enormous pleasure and task of stowing away the huge sum which we had exacted as the price of raising the siege of Lanzo. We also kept the train of packhorses which had borne the silver from Milan. Whether it had been paid from the treasuries of Milan and Pavia, or by the Lombardy bankers, I knew not—nor did I care once it was ours.

  There remained only the matter of Paolo da Lucca and his daughter to be settled. As I had promised, the pair had been taken under my wing, and the old man had been given daily attention by our healers, as well as protection from unwanted advances. This last particularly applied to Genevra who, with her father, had been guests at my high table at a banquet to celebrate our success. Although she seemed only to have eyes for Marco, her saviour, as she called him, there were other young bloods amongst my junior officers who felt they had better claims upon her favours. She was in truth a lovely, sweet-natured creature, and I had some concern that she might be swayed by apparently earnest adoration.

  With this in mind, and partly because I wished Marco to be able to compete for Genevra’s favour on a more equal basis, I had advanced both him and Ralph to be my squires. To Ralph I gave more responsible duties under John Brise, who would bring him out of his boyishness to sterner manhood. Marco I kept with me for personal dutie
s, and future missions of a special nature. Their advancement was also due to their bravery in entering Lanzo on the escapade which ultimately led to our success, and to the part they both played during and after the attack on the town.

  It was to Marco that I eventually entrusted the safe conduct of the da Luccas when they completed their broken journey to Milan. I gave him a detail of twelve men-at-arms under Simon Bawdesley, and lectured them all on their behaviour on the journey. Privately, I explained to Marco that he should quietly ingratiate himself with da Lucca. At the same time he was to treat Genevra with all respect as a suitor for her hand, as I saw her father as a potentially valuable ally. I also pulled Simon aside and informed him that I myself held him personally responsible for the good conduct of the men-at-arms, and that his fortunes would be bleak indeed were anything untoward to happen.

  For myself, I have always found women to be a hindrance on a campaign, taking men’s thoughts from their duties, and slackening their resolve. If my men wished to waste their hard-won pay on the trulls and slatterns which follow every army like crows after the plough, that was their affair. Anything else I frowned on, as a rule. Women to wive are best found in good families and houses, where they have been brought up to wifely and motherly skills, not amongst the ranks of camp-followers.

  So far as the weapons, armour and other equipment taken from the fallen enemy at Lanzo was concerned, this was despatched by pack train under a strong guard commanded by Wat Spykings, Will Turton’s taciturn chief assistant. Da Lucca had given him details of how to proceed to his estate and place of business at Florence. The value of the hoard, when sold, was to be held by him on our account, and I expected some thousands of silver florins would be realised, for some of the equipment was of the finest quality.

  Thus ended the affair at Lanzo, and we were able to look forward to the next stage of our campaign on behalf of Monferrato.

  *****

  After Lanzo, we passed on to carry the campaign into the Milanese territory and made a great camp at Romagnano, near the town of Novara, thirty English miles to the west of the great city of Milan. Here ruled Bernabo Visconti, who coveted the lands of the Marquis of Monferrato.

  This Bernabo had a brother, Galeazzo, as joint ruler. He, however, preferred to reside at Pavia, for him a much more pleasant city. Whilst Bernabo was notorious for his autocratic, dictatorial ways, and cruelly tortured his enemies, or indeed almost anyone he disliked, Galeazzo was altogether different, being a quiet, more studious man, although at need he could display the usual Visconti traits of ruthlessness and cruelty. He was also fond of walking and riding about the countryside.

  We were opposed at this time by the Almain Count Conrad Landau, then in the service of Galeazzo. He attempted to deny us both loot and supplies by burning all before us, to the extent of a dozen or more castles and villages. Nevertheless, we were able to retake Castelnuovo and return it to the Marquis. Landau’s efforts to contain us failed, as we moved swiftly to surround his smaller forces. In a number of skirmishing actions we drove him back. Thus we harried and burned, destroying all before us, until we had sacked all the lands up to the Ticino and Trebbia, which must have displeased Galeazzo.

  *****

  Late in September Marco returned to us, having had to learn of our whereabouts from fleeing peasants and from observing the retreating forces of Landau. He and Simon Bawdesley ducked into my pavilion one night just after sundown, during the evening meal. I was seated at table with Albrecht and John Brise, plus an assortment of other leading men, both English and Almain.

  I left my seat and went down the length of the pavilion to meet them. Marco looked pale and worn, and even old Simon appeared weary. I clasped both their hands in turn, and slapped them both heartily on the shoulder. Marco staggered a little at this, and there was some laughter from those gathered around the table.

  “Welcome back,” I told them. “It is good to see you both, safe and well. Sit down and rest. Pages! More food and wine.”

  I took my seat once more, and raised my wine cup. “A health to our brave comrades. Waes Hael!”

  Shouts of “Drinc Hael!” and “Zum Wohl!” echoed around the board as the two took their places.

  “It is good to be back safely, Sir John,” said Marco. “We’ve had a hard time of it this past few days. Isn’t that so, Simon?”

  “Aye, lad. That it is. I tell you, Sir John, that but for your young squire we wouldn’t be here at all. As it is, we haven’t lost one man. We’ve ridden mostly at night and lain up by day. We wove and slid between stricken villages and Landau’s fiends. I’ve seen sights no Christian man should see. He has devils on horseback with little bows you’d think were children’s toys, ‘til you see and hear the swish of their black arrows. I tell you, they’re devils from Hell, the size of children when on foot, but as evil as Satan himself.” He shuddered in disgust, and applied himself to his food as one starving.

  “Who can these men be?” I asked, looking round the table.

  Albrecht called down to one of his Almains, who rose to his feet. I knew him at once as the one who had spoken to the prisoner, Janos, whom we had captured at Lanzo. Albrecht repeated my question in their own tongue, and translated the reply for our benefit. “These small archers are from the Cuman tribes, out of the vast plains of Tartary. There are hordes of these horse people to the east of Constantinople, who press behind the Saracens for conquest. Some have settled amongst the Magyars, who buy their services. Walther here agrees with your man that they are as fiends from Hell. At least we know now that they are with Landau. What else can you tell us, Master Bandini?”

  Marco took a deep draught from his wine cup. “We counted many different bands of Landau’s Almains and others. They were withdrawing before you, and were intent only on that, apart from sacking any village or farm in their path. I suppose they will lay the blame for that on our advance. They were well armed and did not ride as though defeated, only drawing back to fresh positions. I think they realise that we outnumber them, and so they will not stand against us."

  “How many are there, do you think?” I asked.

  Simon roused himself. “I reckon no more than three thousand, but it’s hard to say, as they were broken up into small bands. Once, we were seen and hailed, but we rode off and lost them in the darkness. We had a brush with another group, but we took them unawares and were through them before they recovered. We hacked one or two from their horses, but lost none of our own, thank God.”

  There was more of such talk until it became clear that the pair were exhausted. Marco half lay across the board, his dark head on his folded arms, eyes closed. Even old Simon swayed in his seat, and at last I put an end to it all and let them go to their rest. I turned to Albrecht.

  “Now that Marco is returned, I will tell you what is in my mind. You know I have long thought that we need crossbowmen. I intend to journey to Genoa and request the Doge to hire out to us several bands of these troops. We are going against castles and fortified towns, and this is where the crossbow comes into its own.”

  “I agree, they could be very useful to us. Besides which, it would give Genoa a chance to strike a blow at Milan on their own account. There is no love lost between those two cities. What will you do?”

  “First, I shall leave John here in command, in my place.”

  At that, I saw my marshal look up, startled. Then a slow smile spread over his brown face. “Why, thank’ee, Jack. I warrant I’ll not fail you. If you’ll agree, I’ll have Will Preston with me as second.”

  “I do agree. I trust you and him, John, have no fear of that. Now then, Albrecht, secondly I’ll take Giles Ashurst and fifty archers, plus Jack Onsloe and a hundred of his men. We should be more than a match for anyone we might meet on the road. Once in Genoa, I’ll send in Marco as my emissary and request an audience. The rest should not be difficult to achieve.”

  Albrecht raised his cup. “Here’s to your success, Jack. Zum Wohl!”

  We all raised our cups
and echoed his words, and with that we parted for the night.

  *****

  A day later saw us following the white dusty roads to Genoa through rich, rolling countryside. There had been no fighting here, and the farms and villages were untouched by the ravages of war. The sight of our armed band caused the people some concern, but we had shed our white surcoats with the device of the red cross of Saint George, and only my shield with its chevron and scallops, borne by Huw, my new page, was displayed. As occasion demanded, Marco would call out in Italian to those who would flee, and this usually allayed their fears. To be sure, the sight of a hundred and fifty or more well-armed men could be expected to cause some small stir in this hitherto peaceful countryside.

  In truth we were a brave sight. With a visit to the ruler of a rich city in hand, I had ordered that all should put on as faultless a display as possible. Armour and weapons had been rigorously cleaned and refurbished. No dints in plate, no splits in mail were to be seen. Leather harnesses were polished, and the bridles, bits, and other steel fittings were burnished. Boy, my horse, wore his usual caparison of red and white, and his mane and flowing tail had been cleaned and combed. His chestnut coat shone bravely.

  I sent out foreriders in front of us and to either side. I did not intend to be surprised by any hostile party, for Marco had explained that Genoa lay some seventy or so English miles to the South, and the further we went in that direction, the greater the dearth of friendly faces. The journey looked likely to take us three or four days of steady riding and, as a precaution, I had ordered twenty spare horses to be brought along. As it was, they were useful to carry items of baggage.

  Our form of march was as follows. In front were twenty men-at-arms. I rode immediately behind these with Jack Onsloe, then came Giles Ashurst, Marco, and Huw, followed by twenty-five archers. Then came eighty men-at-arms, and finally the remainder of the archers. With matters so arranged, I felt content that if attacked, I had an instant line of battle, able to turn in any direction to meet a challenge.