by Griff Hosker
“Hold here!” A Welshman suddenly ran from his house screaming. He was wielding a wood axe. I wheeled Scean and as her flailing hooves made the Welshman flinch I hacked down through his shoulder. The axe fell and the man screamed this time in pain and not in anger. His life blood was already pumping away. My men at arms and the Earl of Chester had now caught up with us.
“Henry Youngblood, take our men around the castle and see what there is on the other side.”
The Earl reined in, “That was a wild ride!”
“But they are now trapped in the castle. I would suggest we take what food and booty there is to be had and then fire the town.”
“There may be women and children in the castle.”
“There probably will be but we shall be gone and if they cannot douse the flames they can leave. If we leave the town behind us, Earl, then we will have to fight our way if we are to pass it when we return home. Make it a blackened piece of earth. When we win this war, you can rebuild it.”
“You fight a hard war in the north.”
“We have learned how to make our enemies fear us.”
We camped outside the town and watched it burn. The fire did not spread to the castle. They used their water to soak the walls. Our archers sent arrows within to hamper them. Wrecsam as a stronghold was lost to the Welsh. I had lost no men but the Earl of Chester had. His men had not been as experienced as mine. They had been too slow and needed orders. Mine did not. We ate well and listened to the efforts of the garrison to contain the fire. They won but they would be in no condition to do anything else. When we left the next day, there would be no one to attack us.
We were four miles from Wrecsam when we spied danger. Sir Jocelyn’s scouts reported large numbers of men to the west of us as we headed south to Shrewsbury. The Earl of Chester nodded. “These are the men who were summoned to come to the aid of Wrecsam. Now that they see it burned they know not what to do.” I could hear the question behind his words. He wanted advice. This was not my border war. I kept the northern march safe. This was his land. He looked at Sir Jocelyn.
The younger knight knew what to do. “Earl we should chase them hence. They have numbers and that is all. They are the archers and hill farmers. I have fought them many times. In their rocky passes they are hard to shift but here they are in the open.”
I nodded, “Sir Jocelyn is right. The King would rather we arrived late but having destroyed the Welsh of the north than arrive in time and leave those who might reinforce their king.”
With two of us sharing the same opinion he nodded. “Sir Roger, have your knights stay with the baggage, the squires and the men on foot. Daffydd of Ruthin take our archers and those of the Earl of Cleveland. Harass the Welsh.”
Although it meant having one in four of the archers holding horses the use of mounted archers meant we could close quickly with the elusive Welshmen who were prone to take cover whenever possible.
He turned to me. “I will take the left; you and the knights of Durham take the right. This way we can use a pincer movement.” He was learning and growing in confidence.
Once again Alfred was relegated to the baggage and I could see the disappointment on his face as he passed me my spear and led Flame to the baggage. He had thought a squire’s life to be glorious. It was not. Most of the time it was almost menial work. So far, he had not needed to even carry my standard. It remained furled in the wagon with our spare weapons, tents and blankets.
I held the spear aloft and point it north. My knights formed a line with our men at arms behind us. Spurring Scean we galloped forward. The ground was dry and our hooves thundered. Had the Earl not sent the archers ahead then the thunder of the hooves would have sent the Welsh running. They could not run so long as our archers were engaged in a duel with their own. Their bows sent arrows at archers protected by leather while their farmers and their men at arms sheltered behind shields.
I saw that there were just ten banners. That meant that ten knights had led their men from their rocky homes. They would have expected to fall upon us as we besieged their town. Had I been their leader then I would have fled. This would not end well for them. Some of the farmers took to their heels and simply ran from the battlefield. They had not expected this. The Welsh archers switched their arrows to our lines of horsemen. It meant that more of their bowmen fell. They were skilled and horses and knights fell. However, as we closed with them so our archers were able to move towards the static Welsh line and cause even more causalities.
As we had to negotiate our archers we were unable to maintain a solid line. That mattered not for we attacked men without mail. I chose, not an easy target, like a farmer with no mail. I rode directly at the knight with the nasal helmet. He rode at me. He had a war horse. A war horse is the best animal in a mounted battle but to be most effective it needs to have speed. Then it is unstoppable. The Welshman was not moving fast enough and I was. I switched Scean from the Welshman’s left, to his right. My horse was nimble and responded instantly to my knees and the reins. I pulled back my right arm and punched with my spear. His spear was on the wrong side of his horse and I struck him in the chest. It was a hard blow and the head broke from the shaft. He tumbled from his horse and I drew my sword. I saw a figure run to the knight. I was about to strike when I saw that it was his squire. I raised my sword and galloped after the fleeing men at arms. I left those on foot for the men at arms who followed us.
Scean’s hooves ate up the ground. The man at arms I pursued kept looking over his shoulder. He should have been trying to evade me. Turning around merely slowed him. Had he leaned forward over his horse’s mane he would have been able to travel faster. I was able to switch Scean from side to side without losing speed. I drew closer and closer as the Welshman tried to anticipate my moves. Using my spurs, I moved Scean closer with one last burst of speed and brought my sword across the back of the man at arms. He threw his arms in the air and fell from his saddle. One foot was caught in the stirrup and his horse stopped.
Reining Scean in I held up my sword to stop those behind me. The last couple of horsemen would escape us and we did not need to damage our horses too much.
Dismounting I sheathed my sword and went to the horse and took the other foot from the stirrup. The bloody corpse fell to the ground. I grabbed the reins and began to walk back to our baggage. I saw wounded men being despatched. None had surrendered. More than half had escaped us but they, like the men of Wrecsam were no longer a threat. Two knights only had escaped.
I passed the squire who knelt by the lord I had slain. He stood defiantly with his dagger in his hand, “I will not surrender!”
I heard Sir Edward, behind me laugh, “Cheeky little Welshman, isn’t he?”
“Aye and brave. I do not ask surrender, son, take your lord’s body and his horse and go home. Today is not your day to die.” He could not believe his fortune and he hefted his dead knight on to the saddle. I watched as he led him west.
Edward said, “It is a fine horse, better than that sumpter you lead, lord.”
I shook my head, “There will be a widow who has lost her husband. She can sell the horse. There will be others for us to take. These are just hill farmers. The real warriors we shall meet further south.”
After collecting and tending to our wounded and dead as well as taking the horses and mail from the dead we only made a few more miles before we had to camp again. Alfred could not understand it.
“We are supposed to be at Shrewsbury! Will the King not be angry at the delay?”
“He may be but he gave the Earl of Chester the task of scouring these lands so that one of our flanks was secure. Unless you are a hawk flying above the land then you cannot know what lies around the corner. Our scouts have done well. We have defeated two bands of enemies and lost but a few men. All of this is good. This is warfare, Alfred. It is not as it is written in the books you have studied. They were written after the battle when the winner could take credit for that which was accidental. You and I li
ve in the real world. We fight the men who stand before us.” I pointed west. “Today there was a lord who died. I killed him and his squire defended his body. That was me at Arsuf and it could be you tomorrow. I live because King Richard brought his men to my aid. The squire lived because I remembered Arsuf. Your story is not yet written. Do not hasten the day that you draw your sword in anger. Watch how men fight and learn.”
He nodded. He was beginning to learn.
Chapter 5
The brink of disaster
We only had twenty miles to travel the next day and there we saw the encampment of King John. It was not as large as I might have expected. I recognised many of the banners but there were others I had assumed would be there that were missing. One of the heralds who met us directed us to a field which would be our camp. Leaving Edward to organise it I walked the camp seeking William Marshal. I wondered if he would be with the King. He was not. I found him at his tent, with his younger son Richard.
The old marshal looked pleased to see me. “Did you have trouble? Richard, get the servant to fetch wine for the Earl.”
I sat on the chair his squire found for me. I told him of Wrecsam and then the battle afterwards. “That flank is safe but the army we join does not seem as large as I expected.”
“Many lords have chosen to ignore the command to muster and others pleaded excuses which were pathetic falsehoods.” He shook his head and, lowering his voice said, “Do they not know this King of England? He has some of the traits of Henry and Richard but…” He waved a hand as though to shoo a fly away. “No matter. I am old and weary. I have but a few years to endure this world.”
The wine came. It was good but not as good as that from my vines in La Flèche. Those days were gone, never to return. “Where are the Welsh?”
He drank some of the wine and, pointing west, said, “They are gathered at Welshpool. It is fifteen miles west of here and the Welsh King has the mountains at his back. There are many marcher lords who have joined with him as well as the other kings of Wales. I fear that the marcher lords have just created a new problem for us. Before now we could set the Welsh off against each other. If they all follow Llewelyn then we have a problem. The last thing we need is a single Welsh King.”
“And where is the King?”
“He has ridden with some of his advisers. They are scouting out the Welsh.”
“And you are not with them?”
“I am a relic of the past. I served King Henry and King Richard. King John suffers me.”
I shook my head in disbelief. William Marshal had served England faithfully and there was no more loyal knight. He was now discarded. Had this been the fate of my great grandfather? Would it be mine? I needed to look at my world. I needed to speak with Aunt Ruth. In a world of shifting quicksand Aunt Ruth was a rock on whom I could depend for truth and wisdom.
When the King returned, just before sunset, I was summoned along with the Earl of Chester to a council of war. Surprisingly the King began with praise. “The Earl of Chester and Cleveland have managed to quash the threat of a flank attack from the north and that has enabled me to plan a battle which will bring victory. I am grateful to the two earls.”
I saw the Earl of Chester preening himself. I was more cautious. King John would be equally critical if we made a mistake.
“Tomorrow we march to Welshpool. Although the rebellious lords and the Welsh kings outnumber us we have superiority in knights. I will use that superiority to sweep them from the field.”
From what I knew of the Welsh that was a mistake. Their strength lay in the bow.
“I will command the centre. The Earl of Chester will command the right flank and the Earl of Cleveland the left. My aim is quite simple. We will initiate a charge by heavy horse and simply drive the Welsh from the land they presently occupy.”
There were cheers from those lords he had taken with him to scout out the field. Only William Marshal and I were silent. His plan was a recipe for disaster. That evening as my knights and I sat around our fire our squires prepared for the battle. Alfred would be needed. He would have to follow me with spears and Scean. Sir Peter stood, even though the rest of us had not finished eating. “I will go and make certain that Henry knows his business. This will be his first battle.”
As he left Sir Fótr laughed, “He will go and check on Alfred more like. I know your son is worried that he does something wrong. I think this campaign is showing Alfred of your worth, lord. When other captains defer to you then it brings home your standing.”
“I like not this order of battle for the morrow.” They looked at me expectantly. “It will take the morning to reach the battle. We will be spotted from miles away for Welshpool has elevation. They can prepare the battle field. The King intends to deploy into battle lines as soon as we are there. That allows the Welsh King and his allies to counter us. Do not forget that he has marcher lords with him. They know King John. They know how King John will fight. We need surprise.”
“You would fight the battle differently?”
“Aye Ralph. I would camp first and fortify our camp. I would send archers and horsemen around his flank to make a surprise attack on his rear. The King is right we are outnumbered but we have superior men. We use that superiority to strike at the ordinary men. King John’s problem is that he wishes to cow the enemy and intimidate his barons. I am a warrior who just likes to win battles.” I stood. “I will go and speak with the Earl Marshal. He might be the voice of reason the King listens to.”
The earl was sat with two of his sons, William and Richard. He gave me a wan smile as I approached, “See, William, I told you that the Earl would be along.”
His sons nodded and stood, “We will ensure that you can speak in private.”
The Earl’s fire was close to the King’s. The two brothers and their men at arms stood twixt the two camps and talked loudly. They would ensure that we were not overheard. I sat next to the Earl. “I know what you will say Thomas and I agree. I am sat alone around my fire because the King has dismissed me. He wants men around him who say yes to his plans and assure him that we will overcome our enemies.”
“Then at least ask him to speak with the Welsh King and rebels before we attack.”
He looked at me curiously, “Why? This is not like you Thomas.”
“It will give us the chance to prepare defences. If we march at the speed of those on foot then it will be afternoon when we arrive. If we can delay the attack then the baggage can be enclosed and protected. We can rest our horses too. I know the knights will ride on fresh war horses but what of the men at arms? Their horses will be barely able to manage one charge. Finally, they are in the west. We will be able to attack from the east and as the battle progresses we will, increasingly, be in darkness.”
The Earl nodded, “Sound ideas all. I will ride with the King tomorrow. I will not tell him that it was your suggestion. He still does not like you but he respects you as a warrior. Perhaps he will listen. You have a good mind for war. The north is lucky to have you.”
I stood, “And this is not the north, is it, Earl?”
He shook his head, “We do not have the luxury of choosing our battles, Thomas. When this is over you will return north. All will be well. I envy you your lair. Mine is in Pembroke. I rarely get to visit there and now I would have to fight the Welsh and the Marcher Lords to reach it!”
When we left the next day, we were in the middle of the column. Alfred rode next to me leading Flame and the captured sumpter. “I know not why we lead this horse, father. It is not a war horse.”
I nodded, “But it is a horse. Who knows when we might need it. When I was in the Holy Land there were many times when such a horse would have been invaluable. Besides it carries the spears, helmet and shield. Scean will be fresher. Before the battle is fought and won I may need her fresh legs.”
As we neared the battlefield my heart sank. King Llewelyn was no fool. He had his camp and battle lines arrayed behind the River Severn. I knew that he
re it would not be very wide; perhaps twenty paces but it would still break up our attack and mean that we would not be able to approach at the charge. It would be a walk at best. That would negate the advantage we held.
Edward saw the problem too. “A frontal charge would be madness, lord.”
“And yet that is what we do. David of Wales.”
My captain of archers rode up and joined us as we descended towards the river. “Lord?”
I pointed to a small wood which ran along the other side of the river of the Welsh side. It looked to be half a mile or so from the Welsh camp. “Send Mordaf and Gruffyd to that wood yonder. Have them ride well to the south before they turn and ford the Severn. I would know if we can hide archers there. If we can then take all of my archers with you. You will be our guardian angel to stop this battle ending badly for us.”
“Aye lord.” He turned to give his orders to two of our Welshmen. If the Welsh occupied the woods then the two of them might be able to bluff their way out of it.
“Just our archers?”
“Yes Edward. We will need the archers of the Palatinate to counter the Welsh ones.”
The King halted us four hundred paces from the river. It was the first sensible decision he had made. We had all been given our orders and when his horn sounded we began to prepare for battle. Our archers tethered their horses close to the baggage and formed a line closer to the river. If the King noticed that my valley archers remained mounted he said nothing. The men at arms were prepared and they formed a line behind the dismounted archers. I handed Scean’s reins to Alfred and went to the sumpter to fetch my shield and helmet. That done I was about to take a spear when Richard Marshal rode up. “Earl, the King would have you join him. He goes to speak with the Welsh.” He smiled, “My father persuaded him.”