Irish War (Anarchy Book 16)

by Hosker, Griff

  Roger of Bath’s wedge was impregnable. The Romans, the Saxons, even the Vikings had used just such a formation and when the men in it were fully armoured then it was hard to break. The Welsh arrows flew. I saw one of Count Striguil’s knights struck in the upper shoulder with an arrow and one of Sir Raymond’s knights had his horse hit too but the line was unbroken. Men were shouting. I was not a shouter but I knew others, like Wulfric, who were. They seemed to fight better if they were cursing their enemies.

  I lifted my spear. There was no point in having a couched one. I would thrust over their defences. As I closed I saw that they had just used barrels and blocks of wood to make a barrier. They had not embedded stakes in the ground. I suspected they had to the south but they were not expecting an attack from the north. I rammed my spear into the shoulder and neck of a man at arms. He had mail but my spear was sharp. I saw a mounted knight fall backwards as one of Aelric’s men’s arrows pitched him from his saddle. I pulled out my spear and then urged Warrior on. He clambered, somewhat ungainly, over the barrel which barred our way. I thrust the spear into the chest of the archer who had his bow fully drawn. As he fell he knocked away the chest which also barred my route. I was in the clear.

  “James! On! Follow me!” I spurred Warrior. His front hooves came up as he leapt. They smashed into the skull of an archer. There was a sickening crunch as his rear hooves smashed the man’s chest when we landed. Before me Welsh warriors were fleeing and I could see the rear of their line which was busily fighting against King Henry and his men. I thrust again with my spear and it hit a man at arms in the shoulder. He was a tough man and, using two hands, he wrenched the spear from my hand. I drew my sword and hacked across his throat as I passed him. I saw that James had drawn alongside me and he was using his sword to hack at any Welshman he passed.

  I saw ahead King Rhys and his household knights. They spied my banner and he charged at me. I know not if he sought to fight me or he had seen an opportunity to escape. It mattered not. “Count Striguil! To me!”

  James and I could not take on King Rhys and his six knights alone. I heard the Count’s voice, “Striguil! To me!”

  I reined in Warrior. He was tiring and had been wounded early on. He was a brave horse and I would not waste his life needlessly. One of King Rhys’ knights came directly towards me. He had no spear but he swung a war axe. He came at my right-hand side. I watched as he stood in the saddle to reach forward and take my head. I jerked Warrior to the right. We were not moving quickly and he slid silkily to the right. The knight hit air and I lunged with my sword. It was not a clean strike but his speed made the blade tear through his mail and into his stomach. I barely had time to move Warrior to my left as King Rhys himself launched his horse at me. I guessed there was hatred in his move. I had thwarted him twice. His sword swung at the place I had been.

  I continued my turn. His horse slid by. I saw James bravely take on a much more experienced knight and Harry Lightfoot galloped to help my squire. I knew that I could end the battle with one blow and I concentrated on the king. I swung my sword, more in hope than expectation at the King’s back as his horse galloped by. I connected with his mail. As I would have expected the King had good mail but I knew that I had broken some of the links. Another of his knights galloped at me and swung his sword at me. I barely managed to block the blow with my shield and the end of the sword rang against my helmet. Alf had made a good helmet and I barely felt it. I lunged with my sword and felt its tip pierce the mail and touch something soft. He wheeled away.

  King Rhys ap Gruffyd was desperate to end my life. He could have ridden away but he had stopped and wheeled his horse to face me. More knights had joined the mêlée. It was a confusing picture. My men at arms, led by Roger of Bath were trying to protect my back. I forced myself to be calm. I was older than the King. He had more strength than I had. I needed to use my head. I used my knees to switch Warrior. The move threw off the aim of the King who hacked down towards my head. The blow caught my shield and slid down it. I swung a wide sweeping blow. His sword was pointing to the ground as my sword hit his back again. This time it was higher than the first blow but I saw that it had hurt him. His back arced.

  I whipped Warrior’s head around and stood in my stirrups as I pulled back on the reins. He reared and brought his mighty hooves down on the shoulder of the King’s horse. Warrior was powerful and the King’s horse struggled to keep upright. He failed and I saw the King pitched from his horse. I knew I had to act quickly. When Warrior landed I slipped from the saddle and had my sword point at the King’s throat before he could move.

  “Your majesty, yield. You are too young to die but if I must end your life I will.” The tip touched bare flesh.

  Time seemed to have stood still. A knight slid from his horse to the ground. He had a second mouth. His throat had been opened by a mighty blow by John son of John. Another fell from his horse with his leg hanging by tendons. The King himself was still winded. His last household knights moved towards me. If he did not yield I would have to kill him. Even then I might die. I was surrounded.

  He nodded and gasped, “I yield, I yield! Warlord, you are the devil incarnate. May you rot in hell.”

  I raised my sword, “The King has yielded! Lay down your weapons!” I dropped my shield and held out my left hand. I said, quietly, “That may well be my fate, your majesty but I have done my duty for my king.”

  My men began to cheer. We had won. I was not surprised. The King was young. He had shown great skill and his plan had been a good one but he had been outwitted. King Henry galloped up to us. He was grinning. I saw that his sword and surcoat were bloody. He had not been an idle bystander.

  “Earl Marshal, once again I am indebted to you. King Rhys ap Gruffyd you have yielded to my Earl. You are now my prisoner.”

  He glared at King Henry, “You are a greedy man, Henry Plantagenet. I curse you. One day your sins will come to haunt you.”

  Henry sheathed his sword. “Perhaps. We will retire to your castle now and decide on reparations.”

  “Reparations?”

  “Aye, it has cost us coin to take back the land you stole.”

  “It was our land first!”

  “As my Earl Marshal told you the last time, and now it is ours. Make war on me or my people and you will suffer the same. You are a minor king of a tiny kingdom. Do you think that you can defeat me?” He turned, “Mortimer, take the King. De Clare, you and Fitzgerald ride to Carreg Cennen Castle. Demand their surrender. We will follow.”

  I know that this was a test for de Clare. Could he do what the King demanded? I believed he could. I turned, sheathed my sword and looked for my men. If any had been lost then I would blame myself. I saw that James had a new scar on his cheek but he was smiling. He would need a new ventail. That was a small price to pay. John son of John was being tended to by James of Tewkesbury. He had a gashed leg.

  We had lost men. I saw their bodies being taken by their comrades. We would bury them when time allowed. I raised my hand, “King Henry!”

  Every warrior raised his sword and chanted the King’s name. I saw that he was pleased. I knew that he would have lost too many knights but the glory he had gained compensated for that. He had lost in Gwynedd but here he had won. We would have peace in the Marches and he could go to Anjou knowing that his kingdom in the north and the west was secure. My son and I had won that for him.

  Part Four

  Ireland

  Chapter 11

  It took six months to prepare for what would, in effect, be an invasion of Ireland. King Henry managed to send many of the young knights who sought his patronage and they joined Count Striguil. I left the organisation to him. I was there to help the King of Leinster to win back his kingdom. I wanted to return to my son in Stockton but I had been promised by the King. He had returned to Anjou. I think he wanted to prove that he could win without me at his side. James thought that the King secretly hoped I would fail. The King was young and wanted the world to see
him as the successful general. I spoiled that image. I did not mind. Henry was my son.

  We had travelled to Bristol. It had been King Stephen’s prison and I remembered it well. As Earl Marshal, I was afforded fine accommodation in the castle. It was the King of Leinster and Richard de Clare who had to worry about finding hay for horses and accommodation for men. They were the ones who had to pay for ships to take us to Ireland.

  De Clare had three hundred knights and as many archers and men at arms. We had but one hundred archers in total but I knew that they would be the difference between success and failure. Raymond Le Gros was second in command and he threw himself into the task. The two knights worked well together.

  King Diarmait Mac Murchada was a different proposition. I did not like him. He was older than me and he seemed like a fussy old man who was just concerned with his position. His daughter I liked and she and Richard were well suited. They were married before we left Bristol. I think the King was keen to tie Count Striguil to his family. It seemed to me that he had lost his kingdom because he was not a very good king. I spent most of the time ensuring that my men were well equipped. The reparations from King Rhys had brought me a fortune. I sent half of the treasure home to William along with half a dozen men at arms. The rest I used to buy another ship just for my men and to buy them horses, armour, swords and tents. De Clare was trying to win a kingdom. I was looking after my men. The ship would be useful and I could use the ‘Maid of Portishead’ back on the Tees.

  We set sail for Ireland. King Diarmait Mac Murchada had chosen the landing site. That decision I allowed him to make. The rest would be mine! Having my own ship was a luxury. It felt like an indulgence but I now had the freedom to sail back to Stockton. Carlisle was a short journey away and I could be in the Tees Valley in a day with a change of horses. It gave me reassurance and I was happier about this campaign.

  The Irish we would be fighting had no knights. They had no archers and they did not wear mail. At the time we landed, there were no stone castles in the whole of the land. They had wooden palisades and earth bothies. I intended to use the mobility of our horsemen and the skill of our archers to make a lightning quick campaign which would retake Leinster before the High King even knew we were in Ireland.

  We landed south of Wexford. It had been full of Vikings a hundred years ago. It still remained a largely Viking town without much Irish influence. The two ports we might have used, Wexford and Waterford were both in Viking hands yet. We had to land by using cranes to lower the horses into the water. It took some time. Had there been opposition we would have struggled but none came near and after three days all was landed and the ships moored off shore and awaited our capture of a port.

  When we landed King Diarmait Mac Murchada sent a summons for his people to join him. As soon as he did so it alerted the High King to our presence. I knew we needed Irishmen to fight for the king. If it was just Normans then we would be seen as invaders. The Irishmen who would join us would not help us to retake his kingdom. That would be done by knights on horses but it would make an army which might intimidate our enemy. I made certain that the site for our camp was defensible. The sea protected two sides while a lake protected a third. We just had a narrow neck of land to defend.

  We were forced to use Irish scouts. I was unhappy about that. I did not know them but we had little choice. Aelric and his archers did not know the land well enough to perform that function. King Diarmait Mac Murchada had recognised my importance and had assigned me a translator so that I could speak with the scouts. The King, himself, spoke our language well. The translator was a slave called Padraig. I liked him as soon as I met him. He was thirteen summers old. He had been taken as a slave when he was but four summers old. He was of Norse origin. Given the name of the Irish saint he had shown great skill with languages and it had been his salvation. He not only interpreted, he told me of the people who spoke the words. That too was important.

  We waited by the sea for the men of Leinster to flock to his banner. It was not so much of a flock as a trickle. I saw the disappointment on Count Striguil’s face. This was not proving to be a glorious homecoming. The King had just two hundred men by the end of the week. Eight had helmets and wore metal torcs and carried wickedly long swords. They were chiefs. The rest were half-naked with small shields and either short swords or fire hardened spears.

  The High King forced our hand. A week after our arrival Aelric had led my archers north towards Wexford to hunt. He and his men came back so quickly that I knew something was amiss. De Clare was in command but old habits die hard and Aelric reported to me. “Lord, there is a large host of men heading here from the north west.”

  “Horses?”

  He shook his head. “Their leaders have horses but the men they lead do not.” He shook his head, “I saw little armour lord. They are half-naked.”

  Turning to Count Striguil I said, “There is little point in moving far from here.”

  He nodded and pointed to the north. “We can line up there. The knights on one flank and the mounted men at arms on the other. The men at arms on foot and the archers can be between. King Diarmait Mac Murchada can wait there with his men too.

  I smiled, “You have been watching me.”

  He returned my smile, “Aye lord.”

  We moved quickly for the banners of the horde which were approaching could now be clearly seen. It looked like a sea of men. Without any discernible order, numbers were difficult to estimate but they would outnumber us many times over. As I mounted Storm Bringer I noticed that Aelric was using the stakes at the edge of our camp for defence. With the men at arms in three ranks before him he and the archers would be safe from the enemy.

  I saw Padraig standing by my horse. I pointed to the camp, “I will not need you until after the battle. Go back to the camp and stay with lame Tom and the others.”

  “Yes lord. I am not afraid to fight alongside you.”

  I leaned down, “You are like the people we fight today. You have never seen us fight. After the battle tell me again if you would fight with us.” He nodded and headed back to the camp.

  I spurred my horse to join the other knights. I saw King Diarmait Mac Murchada exhorting his two hundred men to fight well. Simon of Striguil who lead the dismounted men at arms had wisely ignored the king and placed his men some ten paces behind them. If the Irish did not stand they would have to flee to the sea or the lake. They had a wall of spears and shields behind them.

  The High King, Ruaidrí Ua Conchobair, was leading his army. I knew him just by the number of horses he had around him. There were eight horses. That was more than half the total number we could see. The horde was a mile away and they were moving rapidly. Padraig had told me that was how they liked to fight. They closed rapidly with an enemy. Battles were over quickly for they fought savagely until their enemies fled.

  Count Striguil said, “I do not think we will stand here and let them attack us.”

  Raymond Le Gros nodded, “Let us charge them.”

  They both looked at me for confirmation of the plan. “We need the Irish to hold where they are. James ride to Roger of Bath. Tell him that the mounted men at arms will charge when we do. Count Striguil, you had better give your instructions to the King.”

  By the time both James and de Clare had returned the Irish were less than half a mile away. I had never seen such a primitive army. Even the Scots had more armour. They did, however, have numbers. I estimated it to be at least three thousand men we faced.

  Count Striguil looked at me and I nodded. He lifted his lance and said, “Forward!”

  We began to move towards the Irish. We were trotting rather than galloping. Had they met mounted men before they would have halted and prepared a hedgehog of spears but, as Padraig had told me, they had never seen knights before. They continued to charge towards us. They had such numbers that they were able to charge on three fronts. I think they thought to overwhelm us by sheer weight of numbers. It might have worked with barbarian
s. We were not barbarians. I rested my spear on my horse. I did not use a lance as the others did. I had fought too long with a spear and I found it easier to use a spear rather than the longer lance. Behind me James carried a spare spear for me.

  Some of the younger, wilder warriors had outstripped their peers and they reached our line first. Already our horses were stretching their legs a little more but we still had a continuous line. I saw Sir Raymond spear one who had a surprised look as the lance emerged from his back. His body dragged the weapon from Sir Raymond’s grasp and he had to draw his sword. I pulled back my arm and punched my spear towards the half-naked warrior who swung his sword wildly above his head as he tried to get at me. The punch meant that the spear tore into his stomach. I twisted and allowed his body to fall from my spear. As soon as I raised it I found another victim. Their headlong charge had spread them out. Soon we would be amongst thicker ranks but, for the present, we had the luxury of time. We could choose where to strike.

  The next Irishman tried to fend off the spear. He merely directed it towards his shoulder but there it caught on a bone and was torn from my grasp. As we were approaching larger numbers I did not have time to take the spear which James carried. I drew my sword. The first three men I next slew were isolated and the edge of my blade tore into their skulls as I hacked left and right around my horse’s head. Then we were slowed by the mass of men before us. Storm Bringer was a mighty horse and he powered his way into their ranks. His snapping jaws and huge hooves intimidated those before him. As I continued to wield my sword in wide sweeps I felt the blows on my shield and my chausses. The swords they had were not made of the best metal. After the battle, we found many which had bent. They did not keep their edge and, although, the blows on my legs were painful, they did little damage.