Hawkwood's Sword

by Frank Payton

  “Now you know at least one of the advantages of being my squire, my lad,” I told him. “Here, try this; it is hot and spiced.” I handed him a cup from the jug which Huw had brought in for me.

  I was glad to hear him in good spirits, although truly that was his usual manner. The events of the last few days had clearly tired him, for he cast himself down in in a nearby chair and gratefully took the cup I offered him. He drank thirstily before setting down the cup.

  “Aah! That was good, Sir John,” he said, and took another gulp of the steaming wine.

  I let him take his time before questioning him as to the result of the raid on Briona, but before long he was leaning forward with his elbows on the table to tell me.

  “It was not so easy as we had at first expected,” he began. “The commander of the castle was a very determined man, prepared to withstand a full-scale attack. I’m sorry to say that my guess at the strength of the garrison was not correct. There were well over forty men there.”

  “What did Jack do?” I asked.

  “At first he talked of an all-out attack, but we had no scaling ladders, nor in truth enough men for such a course of action. A few men, including the commander, appeared on the wall above the gate in full armour, and with large wooden pavises such a crossbowmen use. The archers would not shoot at them, saying it would be a waste of arrows.”

  “Hmm, a problem,” I said. “What then? Did they ask for a parley?”

  “They only asked who we were, and Jack told them we were men of the White Company. They were all Almains, so far as could judge,” said Marco. “Jack withdrew us all out of crossbow range, and we set up camp. When darkness fell, Matt Sayers and two others went up to the gates to gain some measure of their strength, but decided they were too strong to assault directly.”

  “We need some of the blasting powder, such a the king used in his cannons at Crecy, and at some other places,” I told him. “That would open any castle gate, I think.”

  “Perhaps, Sir John. Perhaps, but we had none, so we had to resort to a night attack over the walls. Jack had taken rope and grappling hooks. He had noticed when we rode around the castle that the battlements were of such shape that they would hold the hooks.”

  “How high are the walls?” I wanted to know.

  “Not as high as some I have seen; about six or seven times the height of a man, I should think.”

  “So, not too high to throw a hook to the top,” I said. “But what about the noise?” I remembered that sort of attack, always difficult unless there were large numbers of men involved and a commotion elsewhere to distract the defenders.

  “Alain Malwe had a better notion than to throw the hook,” said Marco. “He told Jack he could shoot an arrow, trailing a string, over one of the towers which stood out from the wall. The string would be attached to a rope. When pulled, the string would take the rope up and over the battlements, and down to the ground again, where it could be secured. One man could climb up and secure it to the battlements, allowing others to follow. Once inside, they would surprise and overpower any guards, then open the castle gates and let the rest of us in.”

  “Did it work as Alain thought?” I was amazed even to think that it would.

  “Luckily, it did, although I was very doubtful,” he said. “We scoured the village, what was left of it, for twine—and were fortunate enough to find a quantity in an outbuilding. Jack let everything die down to quiet for the night, and waited even longer, almost until dawn began to break.”

  I chuckled at that. “Jack knows full well that that is the time when even the best guards begin to go off to sleep. He has made many dawn raids in his time.”

  Marco continued. “A chosen group went forward with Alain, up to the walls by the tower and overpowered the guards. The rest of us gathered by the main gates, some on horseback. From then on, the whole affair went so quickly and quietly that we were surprised when we heard the doors being opened to us. We flooded in, and those guards who did realise the danger, and ran up with their weapons at the ready, soon gave up on seeing our numbers. An alarm was sounded, but it was far too late by then; the castle was ours. The Almain commander forbade any resistance, to save his men.”

  “So, then Jack allowed then to take with them whatever they wanted, including weapons, and sent them off to Milan?” I said.

  “Just as you said, Sir John. Then we ransacked the castle, but it was bare of anything worth carrying away, so we put it to the flame and watched it burn. It will take a lot of work to restore it and make it habitable again. All the woodwork and roofs are gone, and the great gates too. It is down to the bare stones.”

  “Did you sack the village?” I asked.

  “Yes. We took away anything of value which could be found, but in truth there was very little. The people fled at our first approach, taking their animals and anything they could carry with them. Everything else was put to the torch.”

  “Good,” I said, and rose to my feet. “Come, we will go and tell Albrecht your news. It is important that we move now without delay.”

  *****

  The whole Company was put on alert to move on to the offensive early the next morning. The advance battle of one thousand men needed to be placed in the field, to follow the retreating garrison from Briona. It was made up of seven hundred men-at-arms, half of which were English and half Almains, two hundred archers and one hundred crossbowmen. The commanders were John Brise, Heinrich Steiner, Giles Ashurst and Andrea da Varazzo.

  The time for any other than thoughts of battle was now over, and all now began to ready themselves for the following day. We posted two screens of guards around the camp, and I urged all night vigilance on all the men involved. Albrecht also undertook to have a check made on all the guard posts throughout the night.

  That done, with Huw’s help I laid out all the weapons which I customarily carried into battle, in order to check them over. Huw also fetched out the padded clothes which I would wear under my armour, to protect my flesh from the chafe of the cold metal. I bade him go off then, so that he might make his own preparations for the following day.

  When he had departed, I took up the old sword from Crecy and checked that the armourer had put a sharp edge upon it and had rewound the twisted silver wire which covered the wood of the handgrip. I hefted it in my hand, and swung it about to get the feel of the weapon again. It felt good. Satisfied, I laid it aside in its scabbard and took up the warhammer, which I carried slung from Boy’s saddle, ready to be snatched up should my sword be struck from my hand. It went next to the sword.

  I usually carried two daggers on my right side into a fight. One was a slim-bladed misericord, the other a ballock-knife with a broader blade. They had been sharpened well, and I placed them by the sword.

  By the time all these tasks were complete, I felt myself ready for sleep. I knew the call would come at dawn, and there would then be no time for sluggards. I lay down on my pallet, and before falling asleep I let my thoughts slip back to Proserpina, threescore and more miles away in Savignone. I hoped that she was fully restored to her usual self. I silently renewed my promise to return safely, and, having commended my soul to God, composed myself for sleep.

  *****

  We rode out into the Spring dawn, English and Almain together, fully accoutred for battle that day. In our rear we left camp, baggage train and stores. Will Turton and Klaus Wegener, Albrecht’s Quartermaster, each retained a strong force for defence, including riders of swift horses to fetch help if needed.

  The seven miles to Briona were covered before noon, and we straightway set up a field camp around the castle area. The thousand men of the advance battle assembled, and John Brise and his fellow commanders placed themselves at the head of the column. I rode over with Albrecht.

  “Is all well, John?” I asked. “You know the plan. Send out foreriders in twos as usual, and move fast to throw your force across the way that Landau will travel.”

  “Yes, I know, Jack. We’ve been over it tim
e and again,” was his gruff reply. “Don’t worry. When I find a suitable place for the main battle, I’ll send word back. You’ll need to move fast. We’ll be falling back, remember. Don’t be too far behind us; Landau may come on faster than we expect, and they’ll have their own spies out in front.”

  “Good luck, then, John,” I said, and we clasped hands in farewell. I thought then, as I had thought many times before and have done since, that sometimes it is in the nature of the soldier’s trade for such leave taking to be for Eternity, but we go ever forward in hope, not in fear and despair.

  Albrecht no doubt had had similar words with Steiner. We both sat our horses, side by side, and watched as they rode off on the road which led to Milan.

  Albrecht sat and stared at the departing horsemen, his face set and grim. I waited, saying nothing. Eventually he heaved a sigh and turned his face towards me. He looked haggard, and seemed to shrink into himself. Suddenly, I knew the cause.

  “Where are Werner and Conrad?” I asked, in a low voice. “Have they sent word of their whereabouts?”

  He shook his head. “No, my friend, they have not. I fear it is as you said; they have deserted us for Landau. Steiner told me this morning that they did not return last night, nor early this morning. Indeed, another hundred men had melted away in the night to add to the one hundred and fifty which went with Werner on patrol. Add that to those falsely reported as killed, and we have lost something like four hundred or more of our Company.” He shook his head. “I would not have believed that they would desert me.”

  “Then they may all go to Hell and Eternal Damnation, and they surely will during the battle to come,” I said as I wheeled Boy around. “Come, let us return to those who keep faith, and prepare ourselves for the battle. We shall prevail, never fear, but now we must send a rider after those who have just departed, for they must be warned of Werner’s treachery.”

  *****

  The Company now assembled for the march. On that day, English and Almain men-at-arms were mustered together. As the archers were all English or Welsh, and the crossbowmen Italian, they rode with their own kind under their own leaders. There was a strong vanguard of men-at-arms, followed by myself and Albrecht with our own personal guards. The rest came behind, company by company, under their own constables. We proceeded in three columns, some four hundred yards between each column.

  Albrecht and I rode side by side, our pennon bearers following. The pennons would form a rallying point in the ensuing battle. There are times in the press of conflict when men need to look around to see if their leaders are still in the fight, and that the standard still flies. That sight will bear them up knowing that they are not alone.

  “I hope that we are not too far behind the advance guard,” said Albrecht, his face anxious and pale. I had never seen him in such a state before a battle. I spoke as cheerily as I was able.

  “No, we are not, my friend. John and Heinrich know that we will come to their aid at the right time, when it is needed. It is we who are setting the trap, remember, not Landau.”

  “But Werner and Conrad are with him now,” he answered. “They will be able to warn him of the possible danger. Do not forget that more men deserted last night.”

  “I have not forgotten, but they did not know our intention,” I told him. “For God’s sake, man, I cannot hear the Albrecht I know speaking. You will have us defeated before the battle even begins.”

  “I’m sorry, Jack, to be so cast down, but my dreams of late have been sorely troubled by visions of bloody defeat, and terrors unknown. I fear my end is near.”

  I did not answer, but rode on in silence. If Albrecht had made up his mind to die, there was nothing I could do to stop him.

  The sun was now at its height, and we sweated freely in our padded clothing and heavy armour. I took a mouthful of mixed water and wine from the leather bottle I carried, hanging from Boy’s saddle. It eased the dryness of my mouth, but I coughed as its tartness hit the back of my throat.

  As the early afternoon wore on, I began to look out more and more for signs of the advance guard. We had splashed through a small stream, and I had stopped to allow Boy to take a drink from it, when there came a shout from the vanguard. “Sir John! Sir John! Foreriders!”

  I spurred Boy to a quick canter, Albrecht followed, and we raced to the front. Jack Onsloe was waving to me. Next to him were two riders on light, fast mounts.

  “Is aught amiss, Jack?” I called to him as we drew near.

  “A message from John, up ahead,” he said as we halted. He nodded to one of the riders. It was that same Hal Skelling who had brought the message to me that Hannes von Auerbach was waiting for us, on that mountain road on our first day in Italy.

  “Master Brise has sighted the enemy,” he said, “And there has already been a skirmish between advance parties. There are horse archers. Master Brise says to tell you he has stopped his advance and taken up a battle position. He asks that you come up to him quickly, as he is badly outnumbered. What shall I say to him for you?”

  “Tell him, Hal, that we shall make all speed to be with him as soon as possible. That is all you can say, so be off with you, now.”

  As he saluted and turned to leave with his comrade, I turned to Albrecht. “See, my friend? The plan is working. John has done what we asked of him, and is awaiting Landau’s main army. We must hasten now.”

  As I said this, I was pleased to see him straighten in the saddle. He turned to me with something of his old fire in his eyes and a quickening of his whole being.

  “Yes, Jack, now that the conflict approaches, I can perhaps throw off the effects of these vile dreams. Let us make all speed to the field.”

  We both stood up in our stirrups and waved the whole Company on, and as we now led from the very front, our guards came clustering about us from their former position at the rear of the vanguard.

  *****

  John and Heinrich had chosen the ground well. They were halted along the brow of a low ridge, from which they looked down on an expanse of open fields. To their front a shallow stream ran from side to side, ensuring an obstacle to an advancing foe. Away to the left was dense woodland, and I could see there the glint of weapons. John had sent a strong body of mounted men-at-arms to hold that flank. His right flank rested on an area of wetland, a boggy place which would be difficult to pass for both men and horses. There were archers there, and mounted men-at-arms.

  We met in the middle of the battle line. The two marshals had done well. Archers were dispersed along the whole front, and I could see Giles walking amongst his men, doubtless giving them words of advice and encouragement. Knowing his nature as I did, there would also be a jest or two thrown in as well. Here and there along the line, the ventainers were engaged in plucking tufts of grass and tossing them in the air to test the direction and the strength of the wind.

  Andrea da Varrazzo and his crossbows were in three open ranks, with their pavises set up before them. This would be an opportunity for us to see their volley shooting and how effective it would be, I told myself.

  The rest of the Company now moved into position, swelling the ranks already there. As was our custom, most of the men-at-arms dismounted and their horses sent back to the rear, to held by the horseboys and pages until needed. Albrecht and I had decided to hold back a reserve of mounted men on each of the flanks, one for Albrecht and another for myself, to command when needed. At the beginning of the battle, though, we remained in the centre of the high ground with our horses and our own bodyguards. Marco was at my left side on La Fiamma, the red mare, which pranced and curvetted about, unused to the clamour.

  He turned to me, eyes shining with excitement. “This is my first proper battle, Sir John,” he said. “I hope to survive and do deeds of valour.”

  I laughed. “Just stay alive, boy. Leave the valour to the warriors.”

  I sat and looked out over the country. Following upon the heels of the foreriders came John Brise’s skirmishing party. Around and among
st them swirled the black-clad Cuman riders. Some shot with their crooked bows, and I saw the long arrows thrumming into our men. Others attacked with their curved swords, and the hand-to-hand fighting swayed from side to side, but slowly nearer our own lines, which stirred as trees in a wind with the desire to get at the enemy. At last the Cuman horse archers drew off and grouped in a body, doubtless fearing to come closer.

  I stood up in my stirrups, and called out, “Giles! Rid me the field of that rabble of horsemen!” He raised his bow in answer, and passed the order on to the ventainers.

  The horsemen were distant some two hundred yards or so. I saw our archers raise their bent bows to shoot. Giles’ arm flashed down, and hundreds of arrows arced up into the blue sky, their white fletchings seeming a flock of small birds, but their going was heralded by a hollow whistling howl.

  If the black horsemen had thought themselves safe, they soon learned of their mistake. The white storm fell from the sky as a steel-tipped hail, which pierced men and horses, mail and padded leather, as if they were parchment. Horses went down bucking and screaming in pain. Men fell to the ground, shot through and through with the ashen shafts. There came to our ears a wailing and a moaning, and out of perhaps two hundred horsemen barely a hundred limped away, leaving the field littered with dead or sorely wounded men and horses.

  “They’ll not be back again,” Jack’s harsh voice broke into my thoughts. “They’ve not been bitten like that before, I wager.”

  “No, that is true, Jack,” came Albrecht’s voice. “Now Landau has seen what awaits him, he will be very cautious in attack.”

  “They must attack us, though,” I said. “He cannot turn and run now, or it will be a rout. We can afford to wait for them on this ground.”