by K. M. Ashman
Several communal fires warmed pots of hot ale along with some hastily concocted broth from dried meat, and though the men were tired from the hard ride, not one of them was willing to lie down and sleep. Every moment of life was treasured as a soldier, especially the night before battle.
‘Are they there yet?’ asked Robert, standing up from his fire as Dog approached.
‘No,’ said Dog, ‘neither are they anchored offshore.’
‘Good,’ said Robert. ‘Then they obviously haven’t arrived yet. We will have time to prepare properly.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ said Dog. ‘There is no sign that they are expecting any ships.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘There are no carts upon the dock,’ said Dog, ‘and the taverns are empty. The whole place just seems a bit quiet.’
‘The information from our contact hasn’t been found wanting yet, Dog,’ said Robert. ‘They will be here.’
The Carmarthen Road
February 17th, AD 1136
Gwenllian was fast asleep wrapped in her heavy furs when Taliesin shook her gently by the shoulders.
‘Gwenllian,’ he said quietly, ‘dawn is here, drink some of this.’
Gwenllian opened her eyes to see Taliesin holding a leather jack.
‘What’s that?’ she asked.
‘Hot broth,’ he said quietly. ‘There’s not much but at least it will warm your insides.’
‘I said no fires,’ said Gwenllian sitting up.
‘Gwenllian,’ said Taliesin, ‘there are over two hundred armed men along this tree line and another two hundred behind the hill to our rear. Each have been here since yesterday morning with no food and only honeyed water to drink. They are freezing to their bones and needed something hot else they will be no good to us on the field of battle. Don’t worry, the fires were well shielded.’
Gwenllian looked at Taliesin realising he was right. The expected column had not turned up the previous day and without fires or food, her men were suffering badly.
‘Is there any sign of the column?’ she asked, sitting up and taking the broth in both hands.
‘Not yet. One of the scouts came in a little while ago and said they rode almost halfway to Carmarthen but there was no sign. How long do you intend that we stay?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Gwenllian. ‘Nesta hasn’t been wrong before, so I am reluctant to withdraw.’
‘Then I would recommend staying until dusk only,’ said Taliesin. ‘We can leave scouts upon the road from here to Carmarthen and at the first sign, return with all haste. We will be in no fit state to do ourselves justice unless the men get properly fed and well rested.’
‘Understood,’ said Gwenllian. ‘If there is still no sign by dusk, we will withdraw.’
Taliesin sat down beside her and sipped on his own drink.
She looked across to a nearby thicket. Both Maelgwyn and Morgan sat with their backs against their own trees, talking quietly between themselves. Gwenllian smiled to herself. Though the circumstances were unfortunate, it was good to see them getting on.
‘They are good boys,’ said Taliesin seeing her gaze. ‘You must be very proud.’
‘I am,’ said Gwenllian, ‘and though I know they will do themselves justice, I just can’t help wishing they didn’t have to go through all this.’
‘Is it not what you have lived for all your life?’ asked Taliesin, chewing on the end of a twig.
‘For my life, yes,’ she replied turning to face the warrior, ‘but they have spent most of theirs thinking warfare was for other people. Especially Maelgwyn, he remembers nothing of the last time we rode as rebels.’
‘He is proud of you, Gwenllian,’ said Taliesin, ‘they both are. Just revel in the fact that they are good men, true and proud. Whatever God has in store for them today or in the future, their paths are now their own and they are here beside you because they want to be, not because you told them to.’
Gwenllian smiled at Taliesin and returned her gaze towards Kidwelly Castle in the distance.
‘Do you really think we can take it?’ she asked quietly.
‘If we can emerge victorious from the battle before us,’ replied Taliesin, ‘I see no reason why not, especially with your father’s army at our side. Victory begets victory and should we win, the rebellion will be like a ball of snow rolling down a mountain, gathering speed and strength with every second that passes. Everything relies on today, Gwenllian. The future will belong to whoever carries the day.’
‘Then let us hope that God is with us,’ said Gwenllian.
Gwenllian sipped on the welcoming broth and peered through the foliage to her front. The determined focus of the previous few days was waning due to the discomfort of the wait and she knew that if she was feeling it, her men must be suffering far worse. She had experienced this a hundred times over the years but most of those hidden amongst the trees around her were new to warfare.
As the warmth of the hot drink seeped down into her innards she allowed herself to think again of her sons. The two youngest should soon be safe at Aberffraw and even if the day went against her, at least she would die knowing they would be safe growing up amongst her family in Gwynedd.
As for the other two, she worried about what lay before them in the next few hours. Neither were experienced but they were both were well trained with their weapons and, as much as she had wanted to send them away to safety, they were both grown men and had committed to the cause.
She knew the first few moments were crucial in any battle but once they had seen their first men killed, the initial shock would pass. After that their fate was in their own hands, and those whom they called comrade.
Several leagues away, Dog and Robert stood on a hill high above the village of Burry.
‘This is ridiculous,’ said Robert from his vantage point. ‘There are no ships as far as I can see and we were told they would be here yesterday.’
‘I told you,’ said Dog at his side, ‘something is wrong. Do you want me to go into the town and find out what’s going on?’
‘Yes,’ said Robert, ‘but keep the reasons to yourself. We have no idea who is or isn’t loyal to the cause.’
‘Understood,’ said Dog and he walked back down the hill to retrieve his horse. Half an hour later, he tied his horse to a hitching rail outside a tavern near the dock and walked in to the stifling heat from the huge fire roaring in the stone hearth.
‘A good day to you stranger,’ said the landlord. ‘Hot ale?’
‘Aye,’ said Dog, looking around the room.
The landlord went to the pot hanging over the fire while Dog sat at a table in the corner.
‘Here you are,’ said the landlord, placing the full tankard on the table. ‘Do you want food? We have crabs and fish freshly caught just yesterday. They make a fine soup with plenty of meat.’
‘Aye, it sounds good,’ said Dog.
The landlord disappeared into the back room while Dog sipped on his drink, quietly minding his own business.
‘You’re not from around here,’ said a voice and Dog looked over to a man sitting at a table near the fire.
‘No, I’m from Llandeilo,’ said Dog. ‘I’m here looking for work.’
‘Work?’ laughed the man. ‘You’ll be lucky. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s winter out there and the dock is quiet. Not many boats to unload in this weather.’
‘I was led to believe there may be a few due in,’ said Dog, ‘and was hoping to earn a few coins unloading.’
‘No ships due in as far as I know,’ said the man and he shouted through the door leading to the rear room. ‘Gwyn, do you know of any cargo ships due to dock in the next few days?’
‘No,’ replied the landlord from the back. ‘Why?’
‘Our new friend here was asking.’
‘Nothing for two weeks,’ shouted the landlord again. ‘At least, nothing scheduled.’
‘Sorry, my friend,’ said the first man with a hint of a smirk, ‘
it seems you are unlucky.’
Dog’s mind worked furiously. Either Nesta’s intelligence had been wrong or they had the wrong dock. He decided to enjoy the hot ale so as not to arouse suspicion before taking the worrying news back to Robert.
‘So what do you do around here when there is no work?’ asked Dog.
‘Look after the swine,’ said the man with a shrug, ‘catch fish, whatever we can do to keep death from the door.’
‘Shouldn’t you be out there?’ asked Dog sipping the hot ale. ‘It’s cold but the sun is out. Is it not a good day for fishing?’
‘Indeed it is,’ said the man. ‘However I still have some coins left from the last ship that docked and it is a while since I enjoyed such wealth.’ He guffawed at his own joke before draining his tankard and banging it on the table. ‘Landlord, more ale,’ he roared and followed it up with another laugh.
‘So when was the last ship?’ asked Dog.
‘Five days ago,’ said the man. ‘In fact there were two ships. There wasn’t much work to be had in truth but I was one of the lucky few.’
‘But you said there were no ships,’ said Dog.
‘I said there were none due,’ said the man. ‘You didn’t ask me about those that had already landed.’
Dog stared at the half-drunk man, his heart racing. ‘What did you unload?’ he asked.
‘Why do you want to know?’ asked the man. ‘They’ve gone, you’ve missed out and that is all there is to it.’
Dog’s patience ran out and he drew his knife before kicking away the table and lunging for the man, pressing his knife against his throat. ‘You listen to me,’ he hissed. ‘You will tell me everything I ask or I swear you are a dead man.’
The man’s eyes bulged with fear and he nodded vigorously.
‘Right,’ said Dog, ‘I want to know what you unloaded and which way the carts went for there is no sign upon the road.’
‘There were no carts,’ gasped the man. ‘There were riders only.’
‘You are lying,’ said Dog, increasing the pressure on his blade. ‘I was told there would be a cargo of supplies and two hundred soldiers here to escort them. That will take a whole column of carts. Now where are they?’
‘No,’ said the man, his voice shaking with fear, ‘you are wrong. Both ships were carrying men and horses only. They docked and were away within hours headed inland. Check the northern path, you will see for yourself.’
‘The northern path?’
‘Aye, it is a hidden path and leads inland for two leagues before swinging north. It is of poor quality but hidden from the eyes of most.’
‘If it is a hidden path, how did they know which way to go? Did you tell them?’
‘No,’ gasped the man, ‘they were met by a guide. He was here for two days, talking little and keeping himself to himself. When they had disembarked, it was he who led the way.’
‘And do you know this man’s name?’
‘No, my lord. He was a stranger.’
Dog grimaced, realising that somehow they had missed their quarry. ‘How many?’ he asked, determined to get what information he could.
‘How many what?’
‘Men,’ roared Dog, ‘horses, weapons, anything. Tell me what you saw!’ He increased the pressure on the blade drawing a thin line of blood.
‘About five hundred in all,’ gasped the man, ‘each mounted and heavily armed. There were also about another fifty pack horses with heavy burdens.’
‘What were the riders wearing?’
‘Heavy cloaks but I could see the coifs of many as they rode past. It looks like they were ready to fight.’
Dog withdrew his blade and glared at the terrified man sat on the bench before him. ‘If I find out you were lying,’ he said, ‘I swear I will be back to finish the job.’
‘He is not lying,’ said a voice and he turned to see the landlord standing in the doorway holding a fishing gaff threateningly in his arms. ‘There were about five hundred in all and each armed to the teeth. Like he said, they rode directly north away from the coastal path so if you want to know more, go and ask them yourself, just get out of my tavern.’ He lowered the gaff so it was aimed at Dog’s stomach.
For a few seconds Dog was tempted to kill them both, a task he could easily accomplish alone but finally he realised this situation was not of their making and he had far more important things to do.
‘One more thing,’ said Dog, turning back to the first man. ‘You may not know his name but was there anything about the guide that looked familiar?’
‘No,’ said the man, ‘he was a stranger to me, but I did notice one thing about him.’
‘And that was?’
‘He had a deep scar running down his right cheek.’
Dog stared for a moment, absorbing the implications.
‘You have what you came for,’ interrupted the landlord, ‘now get out.’
Dog tossed a silver penny onto a nearby table.
‘That’s for the ale,’ he said, ‘and give the soup to my friend there.’ Without waiting for a reply, he walked quickly out of the tavern.
‘What do you mean five days ago?’ asked Robert, back on the hill. ‘That is not possible, we would have seen them.’
‘There are other roads back to Kidwelly,’ said Dog. ‘Apparently they are more difficult to find but they had a guide and if I am not mistaken, it was Tomas Scar.’
‘Tomas Scar,’ gasped Robert. ‘I thought he was dead?’
‘As did we all,’ said Dog, ‘but the coincidence is too great. He knows all the hidden pathways of Deheubarth and has exactly the same scar as the guide was said to have had. I think someone knew we were coming and sent him here to lead the soldiers away from conflict.’
‘But why?’ asked Robert. ‘Even if that is true, with such a powerful army at their disposal, why lure us here only to avoid us when they could have set an ambush? It just doesn’t make sense.’
‘It does if you had a different target in mind,’ said Dog.
Robert stared at the warrior. ‘By the devil’s teeth,’ he said eventually as the full horror struck home. ‘You mean . . .’
‘They’ve gone for Gwenllian,’ said Dog. ‘The princess is walking into a trap!’
The Carmarthen Road
February 17th, AD 1136
The day was quiet, unnaturally so, and despite the temperature, the skies were clear. Gwenllian sat with her back against the trunk of one of the few giant trees amongst the forest edge. Her cloak was wrapped tightly around her body and she stared out across the plain towards the distant Kidwelly Castle. She started to doze as the afternoon sun warmed her face and was slipping into a much-needed deeper sleep when she was jerked awake as suddenly as if falling from a horse. For a few seconds she just looked around, unsure about what had woken her.
‘What was that?’ she gasped looking over to Taliesin.
‘I don’t know,’ said the warrior as he got to his feet. ‘It sounded like a scream.’
Gwenllian looked across at her sons. It was obvious that they too had heard something and were peering back up the slope to their rear. Another scream echoed through the trees and she jumped to her feet as more voices joined the first. Within seconds, the deathly silence of the previous two days was torn apart as the unmistaken sound of fighting filled the air.
‘We’re under attack,’ roared Gwenllian. ‘Look to your weapons.’
Everyone in earshot jumped to their feet, and as the warning spread, two hundred armed Welshmen stared nervously into the thicket above them.
‘Where are they?’ shouted Maelgwyn. ‘I see nobody.’
‘It’s coming from up there,’ shouted Morgan pointing his sword up the hill. ‘It sounds like our rear lines are under attack.’
Gwenllian spun around to stare down at the Carmarthen Road, half expecting to see the English column but the road was clear in both directions, as was the open countryside stretching away to Kidwelly Castle in the distance.
‘I don’
t understand it,’ she gasped. ‘How are they behind us, there are no paths back there?’
‘There are if you know where to look,’ said Taliesin. ‘Either we were seen getting into position or we have been betrayed by someone who knows the lay of the land. Whatever the reason, now is not the time to consider such things, we have to do something and fast.’
Gwenllian looked up the hill to the sound of the battle. The choices raced through her mind like galloping horses. Should she lead the men at the bottom of the hill in a counteroffensive without knowing who they faced, should they retreat onto the road and make their escape, thus leaving their rear unprotected, or should they go firm here and make a stand?
‘Gwenllian,’ shouted Taliesin above the noise of the battle, ‘we need to do something. If we remain strung out like this, they will pick us off one by one. What are your orders?’
Gwenllian looked in both directions and could see all eyes focussed on her, waiting for her to give a command. She knew that the men were nervous and looking for leadership. A few dozen paces up the hill she could see the grass-covered line of an old embankment, now no more than a fold in the slope but it was something and she needed a focus.
‘Pass the word,’ she shouted, ‘everyone to merge on me. Move yourselves and form a defensive line on that mound. Shields to the fore and lances in the second rank.’
Those in earshot shouted down along the tree line while those further up the hill retreated back to the embankment. For several minutes there was chaos as men ran from every direction while Taliesin and Gwenllian tried to make sense of the situation. The noise of battle from further up the hill got closer and Gwenllian was sorely tempted to lead those still alongside her into the fray but it was an uphill slog against a force of unknown strength.
Finally the men formed themselves into a defensive formation facing up the hill, shoulder to shoulder, protected by a shield wall. Behind them was a line of lance bearers, each resting their weapons on the shoulders of those in the front rank. Behind those were the sword bearers, the men who had excelled on the training fields before, finally, the archers formed the rear rank.