by Griff Hosker
Alfred arrived with my standard before the Welsh had begun their advance. Some of the King’s men were still hurrying into their positions but we were ready. Unlike the Welsh wall of the previous day ours was a true shield wall. We had a solid wall of shields and, behind us, our men at arms had their shields pushed into our backs. Their spears were ready to be thrust over our shoulders. Also, unlike the Welsh, we stood close by the river bank. We were far enough away from the slippery, muddy morass. We had solid footing. My men had laid the ashes from the fires there so that we had grip. I was not sure that the other two battles had done the same. I could not think for all of them.
The rebel knights and the knights of Powys rode in a long line backed by men at arms. The knights from the other two kingdoms were dismounted and they followed. Before all of them came the archers and, bringing up the rear were the fyrd. David led my archers to stand on the edge of the river bank. There was a deadly duel between both sets of archers. Amazingly I saw archers release and then watched the flight of an incoming arrow so that they could avoid it. The rate at which they could send their arrows was slower. More importantly it allowed their horsemen to close with the river without suffering too many casualties. There were only fifty or so knights and they came not in a straight line but as individuals. That way they could avoid the archers.
As soon as the knights facing us dropped into the river I shouted, “David of Wales, withdraw.” Our archers were vulnerable to an attack from horsemen. I would not risk them. Our shields were already locked. I saw the triumph on the faces of those knights with open helmets turn to horror as their horses struggled to get up the bank. During the night our men had used it to make water and to relieve their bowels. The bank was like a cess pit. As horses’ heads appeared our spears swords and axes harvested a bloody crop. Knights fell into the water. Some drowned. Others tried to scramble up the bank.
All the time their archers were sending arrows into our lines. David of Wales’ men returned the compliment and the Welsh archers were thinned. Our arrows did more damage. All the while the men at arms and dismounted knights lumbered towards us. I knew from our crossing that only the tallest of knights would cross successfully. I wondered what their kings thought would happen.
William shouted, “Lord, the Welsh are making inroads into the King’s position.”
It was obvious to me that their mounted horsemen had managed to distract the King’s men and they had a foothold on the bank of the river. His men had failed to make it wetter and it was not as slippery. We could do nothing. We were pinned by the advancing men on foot. I saw that these had ladders with them to help them scale the bank. This would be a hard-fought battle. Archers had been hit. Although none had been killed there were still a couple with wounds. The Welsh who came across used shields to protect themselves. Even so warriors died. As they scrambled to the top we awaited them. The ground was even more slippery now for horses had tried to clamber up and failed. As the first warriors ran at us they slipped. I speared one who lay on the ground before me. He wriggled like a fish and, as I pulled out the spear, he slipped back to the river and his body knocked more men from the ladder. As the river filled with dead, dying and wounded men so some used their comrades to make a bridge. Others were drowned as mailed warriors stepped onto them.
I still had my spear and with my long reach I found I was able to punch the spear head at their faces as they came up the ladder. It is a strange thing but when you poke something at a man he jerks his head back. It is self-preservation. Normally that would save him but when he was clinging to a ladder and top heavy with a helmet and mail, he cannot keep his balance. After I dealt with four in this way the fifth reached up and grabbed my spear. He still fell backwards but he took the spear with him.
Men were now fighting all along the line. Most had to face men who had managed to make the top. Without my spear I had no way to keep the Welsh at bay and I drew my sword. Two men managed to make their way towards me. They had a strange gait with feet wide apart but it seemed to be effective. Neither had mail. Both had swords and shields. They were not knights and looked to be the men at arms of an impoverished knight. My eye took in that their swords were old and slightly pitted. We were no longer a solid wall of shields and I had room to move. I stepped forward on my left leg and punched with my shield into the face of the one to my left. At the same time, I swung my sword in an arc. The man on my right had a helmet but no mail hood. My sword struck flesh and ripped open his neck. As his blood sprayed the other Welshman I continued my swing and my sword hacked into his side. Both men fell backwards and rolled into the river.
Alfred shouted, “Lord they are winning in the centre!”
“Then let us end this. Men of the North, push them back into the river!”
We all roared and either punched or stabbed at the same time. It took the Welsh by surprise and we hit them hard. They tumbled and fell into the body choked river. The current was taking them downstream.
“David of Wales fetch up your archers! Squires and men at arms, support the archers! Stop the Welsh from crossing here.” As our archers passed through I shouted, “Knights, form a wedge behind me. We go to the aid of our King!” It was a rough wedge and lacked the order I really wished but it would have to do. I intended to drive up through the rebels who had surrounded the King and William Marshal. My archers could stop any more men crossing behind us. “March!”
The first men we came upon were either wounded or stragglers by themselves. Those that could jumped back into the river and the others were slain. Their cries alerted their fellows to the danger and some of the rebels turned. William and Edward flanked me and both of them knew their business. Their shields guarded me and our three swords, backed by the rest of my knights carved a bloody path through the rebels. We could have stopped then for we had achieved our objective. Men could not fight on two flanks at once and the ones who could, slid out so that the press was not as tight as it had been.
William Marshal was an old war horse and he shouted, “King John and St, George! For England!” With his sons and oathsworn beside him he pushed towards the river.
I shouted, “Turn them!” By the simple expedient of turning to our left we were still protected by our shields while we were also able to swing our swords. As the rebels found the slippery top of the bank so their armour made them slip and topple into the water. These were knights. All of them had hauberks. Few managed to scramble to the other side. With the defeat of the rebels and the men of Powys, King Llewelyn had no choice. He sounded the retreat. They were beaten.
The rest of the English archers made their retreat difficult and almost as many men died trying to get back to their camp as had died in the fight by the King’s camp. We reformed our lines and waited for a second attack but none materialized. A truce was arranged so that the wounded of both sides could be recovered. David of Wales and Ridley the Giant slipped down stream to take the mail and swords from the knights who had been swept closer to the sea. They found them on sand spits and rocks.
The truce was extended and once again we met with Llewelyn on the spit of sand. This time there were no rebels. It was just the Welsh kings. I saw Llewelyn apprising me. He nodded, “You deserve your reputation, Sir Thomas! We might have defeated your King had you not done that which you did in the two battles. I respect you but do not take offence if I say that I hope you stay by the northern border from now on.”
I smiled and saw the Earl Marshal smiling too, “I serve my king and go where he commands.”
In contrast King John was not smiling. This was the third time I had saved him and he did not like it. “King Llewelyn, as you are married to my daughter I will forgive this action but from this day the border with Wales is this river over which we fought.”
The three kings looked at each other and nodded, “Agreed.”
“However, I cannot forgive the rebels. I demand that you cease to support them.”
“Demand?”
The King coloured and
then nodded, “You are right. I request that you cease to support them.”
“Then I agree.”
And with that the Welsh war was over. Of course, we had to march south to take the manors of the rebels. King John gave the best to his supporters but he also rewarded the men who had fought with me and we needed wagons to take back our booty. We headed north and I was relieved that I would not have to go to any of my ladies and tell them that their husbands and sons were dead. We had all survived and I thanked God.
Chapter 6
The Durham solution
We also had news relating to the Palatinate. It had ever been a thorn in my side. Philip of Poitou had been all to brief interlude of stability. King John had appointed Richard Poore as Bishop of Durham but the appointment had been quashed by Pope Innocent. However, John de Gray was a churchman who was also a powerful man. More importantly he was close to the King having loaned him money before now. When I told the King, while he dealt with the marcher manors, of Philip de Poitou’s nephew he became incensed and promised to send John de Gray’s nephew, Richard to oversee the financial side of the Palatinate. He wanted his money! Until he arrived then I was given the power to remove Aimeric of Chartres from power.
The long journey home allowed me to speak with David of Stanhope and the other senior barons. Alfred listened attentively. His time in Wales had shown him that there was more to being a knight than riding a warhorse and wielding a sword. The Durham knights identified the men who might cause trouble when I tried to remove Aimeric. The fact that they were not with the rest of the Durham knights was evidence enough of their feelings. Richard de Gray could deal with the coin, he was said to be gifted in that area, but when it came to military solutions then that would be my task.
When we reached Piercebridge Sir Ralph took his leave of us and headed back to Northallerton. His appointment was confirmed by King John. His brave action in the battle of Welshpool had made it impossible to do other. Sir Peter would join him at Whorlton when he had collected his wife from Stockton. He was ready to be lord of the manor. I knew that his mother would find it hard to be parted from her son and his new family but knights did not have the luxury to pick and choose their manors.
Once we had crossed the Tees, David of Stanhope led the men of Durham home and we had the last leg of our journey to Stockton ahead of us. I watched Alfred looking on our valley with new eyes. He had been to the western border of England and seen that we were lucky to live where we did. Here we had one enemy, Scotland. In Wales there were three kingdoms as well as many rebel lords. Perhaps my wife had been right to wait until he had seen more than twelve summers before allowing him to train. He had had to grow up and take responsibility for himself. He had helped to train Petr to become Sir Peter. Now he could concentrate on the knightly skills of war and with peace on the border that might be a less dangerous process.
Arriving in Stockton I was dismayed to see that my Aunt Ruth was not there to greet me. My wife saw the look on my face, “Do not worry husband. It is a winter chill. She had one before and she can recover. Sarah and our daughters have been caring for her.” She looked at Alfred, “I am more concerned to see if our son has all of his limbs!”
Alfred grinned. I saw that he was now a head taller than his mother. “Our father kept me safe from harm. I felt guilty that others were enduring wounds and I was able to watch from safety.” It was not a lie but it was far from the truth. He was becoming a man and learning that you did not worry women unnecessarily. When he had sat on his horse behind me at the Severn he had been hit by many arrows. Luckily, he took them on his shield and others struck his cantle. One even hit the standard. We would have to find a new staff for it.
After changing from my riding clothes and briefly washing I went to my aunt’s room. Sarah was there. She now looked like a woman. When we had found her with the other captives she had been thin with haunted eyes. Marguerite’s food had put meat on her bones and the safety of Stockton’s walls had helped her lose her fear of men and Scots in particular. “Thank you for caring for my aunt, Lady Sarah. Your husband is here and now you can leave for your new home at Whorlton.”
Her eyes lit up, “Thank you lord.” She paused. “He is not hurt?”
“He is too good a knight for that!”
She was an innocent and fey young woman. She reached up and impulsively kissed my cheek. I knew of many lords who would have taken offence but not me. I was delighted. Petr had worked wonders with her.
She left us and Aunt Ruth held up her hand. “Petr has a good one there! I hope he appreciates her!”
“And how are you, Aunt?”
“These winter chills are becoming annoying! Everyone fusses around me as though I am an invalid! It is good that you are back and, I take it, with success?”
I sat on the edge of the bed. My aunt was not like other women. Her husband had been taken when she was young and she had taken a keen interest in war. She would have made a good warrior for she had a sharp and perceptive mind. I told her all. I saw her nodding at the decisions I made. I omitted my reckless charge into the fyrd. That might have incurred the wrath of my wife. When I had finished she said, “This King is incompetent! He will not need you again?”
I shrugged, “I know not but he has had the forty days required of me this year. We are safe until next year. He has many enemies. The knights who rebelled had been his close allies at one time. I fear that the French may seize the opportunity to exploit this disunity.”
“Invade?”
“King Philip is ambitious and he has bested King John at every turn. There are English rebels at his court and they are in touch with those in England.” I shook my head, “When I hear grumbling knights who seek to seduce me to the side of the rebels I think that they are fostering the cause of France. De Percy has the best idea. If we can curb the King’s power legally then we will have a better kingdom.”
She squeezed my hand, “Tread carefully, Thomas, there is a fine line between Baron de Percy and Fitzwalter.”
“I know Aunt Ruth and I have too much to lose here to risk all. I am a patriot and I will defend my land. King John is a bad king but he is of the blood of King Henry. Our family has sacrificed too much for me to abandon him.”
We had two months to await the arrival of de Gray. His arrival coincided with the onset of winter. He arrived in one of the last ships before the river froze up. His family had estates in Norfolk and the voyage was easier than braving winter roads. He came with a retinue. William Marshal had told me that the de Grays were rich. Any family which could afford to loan money to a king knew how to make coin. Although Richard was a competent young man I did not like him. He was not a likeable man. He was arrogant and he was fussy. He did not like the north of England.
As soon as I greeted him in my hall his words rankled immediately, “I pity you, Earl. You live in a dreary, cold and windswept land! I can see why there is no Bishop here. Even if the Pope sanctioned one it would take a fool to take on the task.”
I struggled to keep my voice calm, “And yet you chose to come here. Is that not a contradiction?”
He gave me a knowing smile, “King John wishes it and my uncle knows how to please our liege lord. Besides it will not be for long. My uncle assures me that a delegation of bishops is even now on their way to Rome to persuade the Pope to revoke his interdict and restore the rights of the church to England.”
“Persuade?”
“The Pope always needs coin. The interdict will be revoked and the money that I can save from Durham will pay for the persuasion of the Pope. When Richard Poore is appointed he will find a secure and stable palatinate; financially stable that is. I understand the other matters are in your hands?”
His self-confidence was infuriating in one so young. “Quite so.”
My wife and steward, Geoffrey approached, “We have a guest hall for you and your people. I hope that you will be comfortable there during your short stay.”
“I doubt it. I cannot see any
thing in the north which will make me comfortable. So long as you have a fire and a plentiful supply of wood to burn then I will be happy.”
Geoffrey, my steward looked appalled but he had served Aunt Ruth in difficult times and he took charge, “If you would follow me, my lord.”
When he had gone my wife, who was normally pleasant about everyone said, “I am sorry, husband, but the sooner that man is in Durham and away from us the better. I have spoken but a dozen words with him and already I do not like him.”
I laughed, “I had to endure a great deal longer. He is lucky to be walking for he insulted Stockton!”
I would have to escort him to Durham. Aimeric would not relinquish power easily. I would take Sir William, Sir Fótr and Sir Edward with me as well as my men at arms and archers. Aimeric had had enough run-ins with us and would know the worth of my men. We left the next morning and, as snow was falling, I told my wife that we would stay a couple of days in Durham. The last thing I needed was for something to happen to the King’s man. I would have to ensure that the garrison were loyal, not to Aimeric but the Palatinate.
We had gained horses from the Welsh foray and although they were not as good for war as the ones we had they were more than adequate for the retinue of de Gray. Alfred had grown into his role as squire. He did not wait to be asked which horse I would take; he knew. Scean was saddled and ready for me. I had servants to prepare my clothes but it was Alfred who had my weapons ready for me. He did not bother with my shield and helmet. If we needed those then I would have lost my grip on Durham. Although James, my servant, had a cloak for me, when I reached the portico which built to allow us to mount when it was inclement, Alfred had the cloak with the seal skin cape around the shoulders. It would keep me dry. I also smiled when I saw that he had loaded the sumpter we had captured from the Welsh, with our baggage. We had named him Bounty. On the ride back from Wales Alfred had found that the horse, contrary to his first impressions, was intelligent and hard working.