The Warrior Princess

by K. M. Ashman

  ‘Do you know what this cargo consists of?’ asked Robert.

  ‘We do,’ replied Emma. ‘There will be all the weapons, armour and stores needed to support a lengthened campaign of aggression against the Welsh. Apparently when they all muster at Kidwelly Castle, they will join forces to form the vanguard of a bigger army to be drawn from all the garrisons across Deheubarth. When they are at full strength they intend to fall upon the Cantref Mawr and wipe out the rebellion once and for all. It is estimated they will number in excess of three thousand men, all well armed, well trained and well supplied, with more to follow as needed. She said to tell you, my lady, it is nothing short of a full-scale invasion.’

  Everyone stared in shock at the news and for a few moments there was silence in the tent.

  ‘How do you know all this?’ asked Robert eventually.

  ‘My mistress read it herself on a document signed by the king’s hand. The new castellan has already ridden to Kidwelly to make preparations with Maurice de Londres to receive the two forces.’

  ‘Where is your mistress now?’ asked Gwenllian. ‘I need to talk to her.’

  ‘You can’t,’ said Emma. ‘She has gone with John of Salisbury. That is why I had to come. She could not withdraw from the journey without raising suspicion.’

  ‘It could be a trick,’ suggested Maelgwyn, ‘designed to lure us out of hiding.’

  ‘No,’ said Emma. ‘I was with her moments before my mistress found the document. It was locked in the castellan’s rooms and she risked her life to find it.’

  ‘Nesta has never let us down before,’ said Gwenllian, ‘and I see no reason to disbelieve her now.’

  ‘So what do you want to do?’ asked Robert.

  ‘I need to think,’ said Gwenllian. ‘Summon all the leaders to meet us here at dusk.’ She turned to Emma. ‘You have provided a great service and possibly prevented a massacre. You are welcome to stay with us in our family hut as a guest until this is over.’

  ‘Thank you, my lady,’ said Emma. ‘Is there anything else you require of me?’

  ‘No, go and rest. Maelgwyn will show you where to go.’

  Her son led the maid from the tent leaving Gwenllian alone, and for the first time in her life, the princess felt the icy needles of genuine fear creeping through her veins.

  Later that night, Gwenllian stood behind the table in the campaign tent, waiting for the chatter to die down. Those she had appointed as leaders had already been briefed as to the risk and now they were in the midst of a full-blooded and robust debate. Though it was noisy, Gwenllian was astute enough to know that the men had to be allowed to vent their shock and anger before she could address what really mattered. Eventually the ruckus died down and she nodded slightly towards Robert, letting him know she was ready to begin.

  ‘Comrades,’ he said loudly, ‘enough. We have all had our say and there have been many points of view expressed on both sides of the argument. Everyone here has a valid point but we need to stay focussed and come through this with a plan.’ He turned to Gwenllian. ‘My lady, throughout this you have remained silent. Perhaps you can share your own thoughts with us.’

  Gwenllian nodded and walked around the table to stand in the middle of the tent as the men formed a circle around her.

  ‘The way I see it is this,’ said Gwenllian. ‘We have three options. First of all, we pack everything up, strike camp and retreat to the safety of Ceredigion. No matter how big their army, they will struggle to find us amongst the forests and mountains and we can continue to fight a war of attrition. We will have to keep moving, staying in one place for short periods only before moving on. This is by far the safest choice and it will ensure our families are unlikely to be put at risk.’

  She looked around the room as the men considered the option. ‘The second option,’ she continued, ‘is that we wait until Tarw returns with my father’s army. We hide here in the Cantref Mawr, and as soon as they arrive, we face the English on a battlefield of our choice and seek the sort of victory recently experienced by Hywel ap Maredudd at Gower. However, at the moment we don’t know how many my father will send, if indeed any. Even if they do come and they are a thousand strong, that makes our numbers just under two thousand in total, still less than the full English army once they have mustered.’

  ‘I would put a Welshman fighting for freedom against any two English fighting for coin on any day,’ said Taliesin.

  ‘Let’s not let our hearts rule our heads, Taliesin,’ said Gwenllian. ‘We all know your passion but many of our men have never wielded a sword in anger.’

  ‘I will not run, Gwenllian,’ said Taliesin, ‘no matter what words are spouted this night. You can run and hide if you want but me and my men intend to take the fight to the English and if we die while doing so, then so be it.’

  ‘Nobody is talking about running,’ said Gwenllian above the voices raised in support of Taliesin, ‘but we have to know the options before we set out upon a path that cannot be changed once taken. Now, I said there are three options, and if you listen to me I will explain the third.’

  ‘Quiet!’ roared Lord Bevan over the noise. ‘You are acting like unruly children, not men of war.’

  Shocked at the outburst from the slight man, everyone fell silent and turned back towards Gwenllian.

  ‘The third option,’ she continued with a sigh, ‘is my preferred choice, though it is the riskiest of all three. We know that they aim to muster all the garrisons across Deheubarth and will have in excess of three thousand men within weeks. If we allow them that luxury, any chance of victory for us will vanish as quickly as the morning mist. What we have to do is to prevent them doing that and, in the process, keep them under pressure until Tarw returns with the northern army. If we can keep them fragmented and guessing as to our numbers and tactics, we will have a chance. When Tarw returns, our forces can link together while the English cower behind palisades and shield walls. That way, before they have a chance to muster the rest of their army, we can fall upon them with all our might.’

  ‘I see the sense in the idea,’ said Bevan, ‘but there are two armies to confront, one in the south with the ships and another riding from Carmarthen on the same day. You said yourself, our men are not battle-hardened and will struggle without your father’s army to support them.’

  ‘I know,’ said Gwenllian, ‘but my plan does not include any frontal assaults on either force.’ She walked back to the far side of the table. ‘Gather around,’ she said, ‘for you need to see the chart.’

  Once everyone was in place she indicated the map dominating the table. ‘This is Burry Dock,’ she said, pointing at a location drawn on the map. ‘The place where we suspect the ships’ stores will be unloaded. We know they will be escorted by experienced men, but two hundred we can deal with. I suggest we send three hundred of our men to harry the caravan from the moment the ships dock to the time they reach Kidwelly and do everything we can to delay them, felling trees across the road and diverting streams onto the tracks to bog down the wheels of the carts. Our archers can attack from the tree line and target the oxen before disappearing like frightened birds back into the forests. If they decide to pursue our men, others can attack from a different direction and do the same. The enemy may be prepared for battle but they cannot fight men they cannot find.’

  ‘Why can we not just kill them and be done with it?’ said Taliesin.

  ‘That would take too many men,’ said Gwenllian, ‘and we would no doubt suffer casualties. By doing it this way, we will wear down those guarding the supply wagon and hold up the supplies. Without those it will be far more difficult for them to organise their army.’

  ‘My question still stands,’ said Taliesin. ‘Why not fall upon them with everything we have, slaughter the English and keep the stores for ourselves? Without those supplies there can be no war.’

  ‘Because you are forgetting the second column,’ said Gwenllian, pointing at a row of chess pieces representing the mounted column on the roa
d from Carmarthen. ‘If we focus all our attentions on the ships, this column will reach Kidwelly unchallenged and join with Maurice de Londres’ men. We all know Kidwelly already has a strong garrison, and if those two forces combine, they will be a formidable foe and hard to defeat, even with my father’s army.’

  ‘So what do you suggest?’ asked Bevan.

  ‘What I propose,’ said Gwenllian, ‘is that while our men harry the supply wagons on the coast, the rest will lie in ambush somewhere along this road and attack the main column. The trees on the higher ground alongside the road give us a huge advantage and we can be amongst them before they know we are there.’

  ‘It sounds like they are a well-armed foe,’ said Robert.

  ‘I know, but we will outnumber them at least two to one and we will use the best of our men in the attack. With the advantage of surprise, I am sure we can emerge victorious, and even if we do not kill them all, their numbers will be decimated and it will delay their plans long enough for Tarw to return. When he does, I propose we immediately press home a full-scale assault on Kidwelly and burn it to the ground.’

  She stopped and looked around the tent. Some of the men were talking quietly between themselves, discussing the various advantages or drawbacks of the plan.

  ‘I have a question,’ said Taliesin. ‘The assault on the horsemen is by far the more dangerous of the two and the chances are we will suffer heavy casualties, even with the advantage of surprise. Who do you intend to lead these men?’

  ‘I will be at their head,’ said Gwenllian without a pause, ‘and will be proud to do so. The first assault is the most important and sets out our stall. We need to summon the berserkers within us and strike fear right into the Englishmen’s hearts, for after that they will be on their guard.’

  ‘And the other men?’

  ‘I am happy for you to make your own decisions about who is responsible,’ said Gwenllian.

  ‘I will also be amongst those who fight the second column,’ said Taliesin. ‘I suggest Robert here has the necessary mettle to undertake the task, accompanied by Dog.’

  ‘Are you comfortable with the role, Robert?’ asked Gwenllian.

  ‘Aye,’ came the reply.

  ‘Dog?’

  The warrior shrugged his shoulders, indicating his indifference.

  ‘So be it,’ said Gwenllian. ‘In that case, although there is much to plan, can I assume that we are all in agreement and it is the third option that we will pursue?’

  The men in the tent looked around, each nodding and asserting their approval.

  ‘Make no mistake,’ said Gwenllian, ‘this enemy will present a formidable challenge, especially the column on the Carmarthen Road, and many of our own men will die in this campaign, but we have been hitting stakes with wooden swords for too long. It is now time to put our training to good use.’

  ‘Aye,’ shouted the men in unison.

  ‘Tomorrow we will muster the men,’ she continued, ‘and go through the finer details, but tonight we will allow ourselves a taste of freedom.’ She looked towards the flap of the tent as two young men carried in a cask of ale and removed the lid.

  ‘Fill your jacks, my friends,’ said Gwenllian, ‘for there will be no more celebration until Kidwelly Castle lies in a pile of ashes.’

  The men in the tent each took one of the many tankards out of a sack and dipped them in the cask.

  Gwenllian walked over and dipped her own jack into the ale before turning back to face the men.

  ‘Only God knows what outcome lies before us,’ she said, ‘so this toast is for every soul who will stand beside us on the field of battle.’ She looked around at the many warriors, recognising the hungry look in their eyes. For too long they had plied their trade amongst the forests and shadows. Now it was time to step out and do what every one of them believed they had been born to do: regain freedom from the invaders. She raised her jack into the air. ‘To those about to die,’ she shouted, ‘and those about to live!’

  ‘Gwenllian,’ roared the men in response as the princess downed her ale, and as one, they emptied their own tankards. The decisions had been made and their path was set before them.

  The Carmarthen Road

  February 16th, AD 1136

  The lack of cloud cover meant that the night was even colder than Gwenllian could have expected. However, the extra light afforded by the half-moon meant the journey down past Dynevor Castle and through the hills of Deheubarth had been made a little easier along the hidden pathways known only to those locally born. Behind her came over four hundred men, each wrapped in heavy furs against the cold and weighed down by their weapons. Due to the nature of the route, they had no horses and were relying on whatever they carried. There would be no resupply, no extra food and no reinforcements. The commitment was total.

  Some men relished the chance to at last strike a serious blow against the occupying forces but most were nervous, unsure about their chances against men both better armed and trained. Their preparation had been intense but skills against comrades with practise weapons were little use against a ferocious enemy experienced in the way of killing.

  During the frequent rest stops, the younger men whispered amongst themselves, talking about the forthcoming fight, and while their zeal was encouraging, those more experienced in warfare kept themselves to themselves, taking the opportunity to eat or sharpen their blades knowing full well that warfare in any form was a terrible thing and, even if they were victorious, many of those sat around them would not be coming back.

  As they sat, sergeants walked amongst them, offering encouraging words and advice, keeping the men’s minds focussed on why they were setting out upon this mission: to help secure the freedom of their kingdom for their families and generations to come. The odd few were scared, their eyes staring into the night as they contemplated the bloodbath that was to come, and it was these men that took up most of the sergeants’ attention. The last thing they needed was scared men fleeing wildly into the night, not only because it weakened their strength but it also risked them being discovered before a blow could be struck in anger.

  Eventually, they continued through the forests and over the hills, staying away from the skyline wherever possible to avoid being seen by anyone foolish enough to be out in the biting cold.

  Due to the distance and the numbers involved, they had taken three days to get to the ambush area, travelling only at night and lying up in dense undergrowth during the day, hidden from man and beast alike. It was imperative they reached the ambush position without being seen.

  For what seemed like the hundredth time that night, Gwenllian put up her hand and one by one, four hundred men behind her dropped silently to the ground as she waited to see what the returning scouts had to say.

  ‘Over here,’ she whispered as they approached and within seconds, two men dropped to their knees beside her.

  ‘The road is on the far side of this hill,’ said one of the scouts, ‘and is lined on this side by trees and heavy undergrowth. I think it is as good a position as we can hope to find.’

  ‘Show me,’ she said and together, the two scouts, Bevan and herself made their way to the top of the slope, dropping down onto all fours as they neared the ridge. The final approach was done at a crawl and finally she peered out over the flatlands that led down to the coast.

  In the distance she could see the dim glow of the fires from the town of Kidwelly and on a spur of land above it, the wooden fortress that was Kidwelly castle. Though she could see no one upon the palisade, the several burning torches moving along the wall indicated it was well manned and well guarded. Between her position and the castle was a wide open plain, the trees long gone, not just for timber for the fires and for building but also as a necessity to enable a clear view from the castle palisade in case of assault.

  Silently, the scout pointed down the slope to their front and, in the starlight, she could see the road stretching away in both directions. A few hundred paces to her right, it forked
, with one track heading towards the castle while the other continued westward. The attack would have to be made before the column reached the junction or their targets would have a straight escape down the road to Kidwelly.

  ‘Over there,’ she whispered, pointing to her left. ‘The trees are denser and closer to the path. We will lie up there and set the trap.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Bevan. ‘The fields below the road are an easy retreat should they decide to run.’

  ‘It is open ground,’ said Gwenllian, ‘with no cover. Any that run will be easy pickings for our archers, besides, they can’t run far.’ She pointed to the far side of the fields and Bevan could just about make out the reflection of the moon on the surface of some water.

  ‘It’s a stream feeding the Gwendraeth River,’ said Gwenllian, referring to the watercourse on the far side of the castle. ‘It’s not wide but it is at least chest deep and will slow down anyone stupid enough to try to cross it.’ She looked up and down the position again before indicating they should withdraw.

  Several minutes later they were back amongst the relative safety of the bushes on the reverse side of the hill.

  ‘It looks fine,’ said Gwenllian, ‘and I want to be in position before dawn. Pass the word to the men: they are to eat what they can now. It may be the last chance they get before the battle.’ Bevan nodded and crept down the line to brief some of the lesser commanders as Gwenllian turned to her scouts.

  ‘Have your men head towards Carmarthen,’ she said. ‘Stay off the road and make sure they are not seen. I want early warning of when the enemy approach.’

  ‘Consider it done,’ said the scout and he disappeared into the night.

  Gwenllian looked up at the sky and reckoned they had about four hours of darkness left. She reached into the food pouch on her belt and withdrew a chunk of dried pork, chewing quietly as she contemplated that if it was going to be her last meal, it was a humble one.

  Several leagues to the south, Robert and Dog had taken no such precautions. They and their men were on horseback and had ridden hard through the day to cover the ground needed if they were to reach the dock at Burry before the resupply ships landed. They had made good time and were now camped in the forest near the village, hidden from sight behind a row of hills.