Again, I allowed them to take that in and then there was a hubbub of noise. Eventually one woman came forward. She looked to be better dressed than the rest and had a bronze torc around her neck. I guessed that she was the wife of the chief.
She spoke and Padraig translated, “Morag, the wife of the chief, asked what about men? They have women who have needs. There are children who need a father.”
I nodded, “Tell her that there will be men here who will wish to take wives. There will be more men coming.”
When Padraig had told her, she came over and bowed to Count Striguil. She spoke, “She accepts you as her lord, Count Striguil.”
As we headed into the dark night I felt happier. We had not needed to leave as many guards as I had expected. The women had all helped to prepare food and to care for the wounded. Davy of Ingleby and the others would be safe. This was not England. Here rulers changed quickly. The old would be swept away in a sea of blood and the new would sweep in until they, too, were removed. That had been the Irish way. It would now change. Norman rule meant order.
Although the ground was relatively flat it did descend, slowly towards the Shannon. The road was not built by Romans. It twisted and turned. Aelric and his men, along with the Irish scouts, kept us on the right route. Our horses smelled the water. They began to move faster to reach it. Dawn was still some time away. If they had a fort then any sentries would hear us as we splashed through the river. That could not be helped. It was vital that they could not see us. We could have ridden across the bridge but I did not see the point in risking armed sentries who would raise the alarm. By the time any sentries in the fort realised that a Norman army was approaching my archers would be across and they would not be able to contest the crossing. We waited at the river’s edge while the rear elements arrived. I wanted us all to cross in one movement. The scouts would go first for they knew the ford. They would be followed by the archers and then I would come next with my men at arms. I had been told that the ford was wide enough for ten men. We were eight men wide. As soon as the last man arrived I waved my standard and the scouts, followed by Aelric, headed across.
I soon realised why they had built the bridge. The river was just a hundred paces wide but, when we reached the deepest part the water lapped up to our girths. The current tried to pull us downstream. I heard the clamour from inside the fort as we splashed ashore. The fort was four hundred paces away. It was a large black shadow by the river and the bridge. We had been told that it had only been recently built.
Aelric and his men dismounted and unslung their bows. I did not think that the Ó Conor would do anything immediately but this was not the time to take chances. We were as far into the territory of the High King as we had yet been. Until now we had been in Leinster or the borderlands. Now we were isolated. We would have a long ride back to Tullamore and even that was not secure.
By the time the last knights and men at arms, along with the little baggage we had brought had arrived, then dawn was breaking. We had seen burning brands on the walls of the fort and at both ends of the bridge. I heard hooves as a horse galloped across the bridge heading towards the east. They would be riding to Tullamore to summon help. They would not see much of us. We would be shadows; moving shadows but shadow nonetheless. I had no doubt that Domhnall knew who we were and he would have told Chief Ó Conor. What would they do? I dismounted and handed my reins to James. He and Padraig also dismounted. I was not wearing my helmet. When Count Striguil and Sir Maurice appeared, I gestured for them to accompany me closer to the fort. We stopped at what I estimated to be two hundred and fifty paces from the walls. Had they been Vikings then I might have stopped further away but the bows of the Irish could rarely, even from elevation, reach more than a hundred and fifty paces. We were safe.
I waved a hand around. “This is flat. It looks like the water floods over here when there are heavy rains. If we need to we can threaten them with mounted knights.”
“But we are not risking our horses are we, Earl Marshal?”
Sir Maurice’s men had lost horses. He intended to lose no more.
“No. First, we will try to talk to them and ask for them to hand over Domhnall. They will, of course, refuse. After a couple of days, when their rider from Tullamore has not returned they might be more willing to negotiate but once we have seen the scale of the defences we will begin our attack.”
“On foot.”
Count Striguil knew how to fight now, “Yes, Sir Maurice, the Earl Marshal and I have fought like this before. Unless they have well-constructed walls and defences then we have the upper hand for we have mail.”
We stood and I assessed the ground as the sun came up from our right. I saw that they had used a natural bank and the spoil from the bridge foundations to make a series of ditches and ramparts. They were neither deep ditches nor high ramparts. The ditches looked to be no more than couple of paces deep and the ramparts were the same height. The wooden palisade was perhaps a little higher. I guessed they had a fighting step rather than a fighting platform. The town wall, which was also wooden was behind the fort. The fort was there to guard the town and the bridge. If you attacked either the bridge or the town then both could be reinforced from the fort.
I saw men on the ramparts. Two standards flew: that of the Ó Conor family and that of the Kingdom of Leinster. Domhnall was staking his claim to his father’s kingdom, albeit from a distance. The men who lined the two concentric lines of wooden walls varied from warriors with helmets and shields to those with limed hair and tattoos. In my experience neither of them was particularly effective at stopping an arrow or a sword!
“How would we gain entry, Earl Marshal?”
Sir Maurice had wondered at my extended silence. I was examining the entrance to the fort. They had made it hard for a ram to attack it. One bridge led across the first ditch and there was a gate with two small towers. The second gate was offset by about thirty paces. An attacker would be subject to missiles as they turned and made their way to the second one. I assumed that, on the town side, there would be another bridge both as a means of reinforcement and as an escape route. The fort’s position meant that you either had to take the bridge, or take the fort to get to the town.
I had seen enough. “Come Count Striguil. Let us go and greet your brother in law!”
“I doubt it will be a pleasant meeting, Earl Marshal.”
We mounted our horses and, with our squires and standards, we rode, bare headed towards the gates. Padraig rode directly behind me. Behind us Aelric and ten archers followed, just twenty paces behind. Any attempt at treachery would be quickly quashed. We halted twenty paces from the first ditch which meant we were fifty paces from the gate where the standards flew.
I waited until someone spoke. He had a helmet with a metal animal on the top and I guessed it was the chief. That was confirmed when he spoke and Padraig translated, “I am Lord Turloch Mór Ó Conor. Why are you in my land and dressed for war?”
I spoke and Padraig translated, “We are here to secure a murderer, Prince Domhnall Caemanach mac Murchada. He killed Prince Conchobar mac Murchada and fled before his father could impose justice.”
The chief flashed a look at Prince Domhnall. I assumed that the story he had heard was not the one I had given. The chief returned his gaze to me, “His father is dead and the Prince is now King of Leinster.”
“This is Richard de Clare, Count of Striguil and now, through his marriage to Princess Aoife mac Murchada, the rightful ruler of Leinster. The Bishop of Ferns has anointed him as king. When we return, he will be crowned in Ferns Cathedral. All was done well and in accordance with both the King’s wishes and the King’s will.”
When Padraig had finished translating there was a heated discussion and I saw Prince Domhnall gesturing towards us and remonstrating. After some time, the chief turned. “You may be right, Norman, but the High King is coming. He does not wish a foreigner to rule any part of Ireland. You will be driven into the sea.”
“If we attack, chief, then you will lose many men.”
He pointed to the east, “Already we have allies coming. You will not take our walls so easily.”
I took out the torc my men had taken from the chieftain of Tullamore, “Were your allies led by a man who wore this torc?”
Even before Padraig had finished translating the men on the walls began banging their shields in anger and shouting. I turned to the Count of Striguil. “I think there will be little point in delaying an attack.” He nodded. “Padraig tell him that he has until noon to surrender. After that time, we will attack!”
After the ultimatum had been given we rode back. “Sir Maurice have your men begin to build an onager.”
“Lord that will take days. We have neither rope nor wood.”
I pointed to a stand of trees. “Have your men cut those trees down. This is a ruse. I have no intention of building an onager. I want them to think that they have more time than they do. The Prince knows how effective an onager can be.”
“Aye, Earl Marshal.”
As he went off I said, “And you Count Striguil, I would have you make a defensive camp. We may not need it but if the High King is foolish enough to come a third time we will give him a warm welcome.”
“But he gave hostages!”
Padraig said, “Aye lord and he has, in the past, blinded his own brothers because they offended him. I would not gamble that the hostages are of any value to the High King.”
“Padraig may be right but I do not think that the High King will let them die without good reason. If he comes then it will be because he thinks he can win.”
As he went off I said, “Aelric, fetch my men at arms and your archers. While they are debating what they wish to do I will give them something else to think about. Bring kindling, oil and flint.” I had no intention of waiting until noon. I would not break my word but I had said nothing about the bridge.
James asked, “What are we to do then, lord?”
I pointed to the bridge. “That is valuable to them but it is made of wood. I will threaten it. By doing so it will stop them interfering with the building of the camp. Padraig, you stay here in case Count Striguil needs you.”
“Lord, why do you not call him King? He is King of Leinster.”
“True but if I call him that then, as King Henry’s representative I am acknowledging him as such. King Henry may not wish the Count to be king.” I saw that Padraig was confused. “If Count Striguil is to be called King it must be by King Henry first. King Henry will only do that if Count Striguil acknowledges King Henry’s position as his liege lord.”
When my men arrived, we headed back across the ford. The Irish, despite the truce, sent arrows in our direction. They fell woefully short and told Aelric and myself that they had poor bows and were not skilled archers. Once we had crossed the river we headed south and, when we were out of sight, we headed back inland to the road. As we headed towards the road I saw a rider galloping west. I assumed it was the messenger they had sent to Tullamore. He must have seen our standards from afar and returned to his chief.
Once we reached the road I explained what I intended. “We will charge the guards at the eastern end of the bridge and then Aelric and his archers will clear the far end. I intend to set fire to the bridge.”
Roger of Bath said, “They will douse the flames, lord.”
“To do so they will have to leave their fort and chase us hence. They will manage to do that but Aelric and his archers will thin their numbers first. Then, on the morrow, we ride to the town wall and attempt to set fire to the town walls.”
“And they will have to come to drive us off and douse the flames.”
“Exactly and when they do then the Count of Striguil and myself will lead the attack on the gate. We are making them spread their large numbers of men to both extremes of their defensive line and we attack with the majority of our men at the gate; their weak spot.”
They knew what to do and, with me leading my men at arms, we galloped down the road towards the bridge. We did not take spears and we did not wear helmets. We would not need them. We could see the town in the distance but the trees and the undergrowth, as well as the bend in the road, meant that we could not see the bridge itself. The road turned and we saw the river and the bridge. It looked to be about ninety paces long. They had no towers there. It was just a dozen or so men armed with spears. They must have been gathered to talk of the news the rider had brought for they were slow to turn and in that delay, we were thirty paces closer.
Two had bows and when they saw us they sent arrows in our direction. One hit the shield of Roger of Bath. Then they ran. They were fleet of foot but no man alive can outrun a horse. John son of John clattered across the bridge and, as we reached the middle his sword swung first at one side of his horse’s head and then the other. The two archers had paid for their courage with their lives. I saw that men were gathering at the other side of the bridge. Men were coming from a gate on the northern side of the fort.
“Enough. Let us go back and start the fires.”
As we turned we passed Aelric and his archers. They were dismounted and had an arrow nocked ready to loose. We dismounted at the eastern end of the bridge and Roger and my men at arms took the kindling to pack beneath the timbers which supported the bridge at the river bank. Aelric and his archers had reached the middle and were sending arrows into the Ó Conor clan who were slowly advancing towards them. The Irishmen had learned, probably from Domhnall, of our skill, and they were protected by shields. Their slow pace meant that they were not making much progress.
Roger of Bath shouted, “Ready to fire, Earl Marshal.” He held the flint in this hand. The kindling had been dry and wrapped around some hay. They had then been doused in oil to help the burning. It would burn quickly.
“Then fire the bridge!” I smelled the wood burning and heard it crackling. On the far side of the bridge more men were approaching my archers who were still falling back. “Aelric! Fall back!”
My archers sent another flight of arrows and then ran. Smoke began to drift up from below the bridge. Aelric and his archers turned at the end of the bridge and sent a penultimate flight towards the far end of the bridge. The Irish were racing towards us and the last flight hit six of them.
“I would move, lord. The oil we used is helping the fire to catch quickly.”
“One last flight Aelric.”
The last one was the most effective. Twelve Irishmen fell to the deadly arrows. They were less than thirty paces from us. As we turned and ran to our horses, the mob picked up the shields that the dead men were carrying and ran after us. Once on their horses Aelric and his men sent a few more arrows towards the Irish. They were not as effective from the back of a horse but it made the Irish halt.
I shouted, “Charge!” I led my twelve men at the Irish who were advancing down the road. There were thirty of them and more were coming. I do not think they thought that we would charge. We had the element of surprise, mail and better weapons. They had no shield wall and when we hit them our horses knocked some of them to the ground before they could even think of fighting. I hacked and slashed over the top of their shields. My sword ripped open an arm and laid open a skull. Arne Arneson was using his axe and he split the shield and chest of one Irishman. Aelric loosed another flight over our heads to kill five more advancing men.
“Fall back!”
We had done enough. They had lost a number of men and we had lost none. The bridge was ablaze and, although they would be able to put the fire out it would take time. I led my victorious men back down the road, across the fields and then back over the ford. The men building the camp cheered.
Instead of heading back to the camp I rode close to the gate. I stopped beyond the range of bows. I knew that Prince Domhnall would understand my words, “Are you ready to come and be tried for murder, Prince Domhnall?”
My answer was a shower of a dozen arrows. All landed forty paces from me.
“Then w
e will take you by force!”
That night I discussed my plan with the other leaders. We had two hundred and fifty horsemen. Eighty of them were knights. We also had a hundred and twenty archers. I had Aelric divide the archers into three. One third would go with Sir Maurice and attack and fire the western end of the town wall. Sir Maurice would lead ten knights and twenty men at arms. Sir Jocelyn would take another third of the archers and five knights with ten men at arms and they would do as we had done and attack the bridge. Leaving just ten men to guard the camp, Count Striguil and I would lead the rest to attack the fort. I think my men and I were the only ones confident of our success. The others wondered at the wisdom, or as they saw it, the folly of dividing our limited numbers by three.
We kept a good watch that night for I worried that the Irishmen might try to get to our horses or the structure we had begun to build. Sir Maurice and his men had cut lengths of wood and laid them out as though they were going to assemble an onager. From what I had seen of Prince Domhnall in Kerns he would try to outwit us. He would think that we were building an onager and our attack would come once it was built.
We ate well; my men had laid nets across the river and we had its bounty to break our fast. We drank the last of the ale. We would have to use water when that was gone. My two raiding parties prepared to move. I had the rest of the army gather to wave them off. We cheered as though they were bound on some mighty quest. I wanted them to think that the two flank attacks were our only ones. Our waving drew the Irish to their walls. They had the upper wall manned by large numbers of men. The lower wall was sparsely manned. My knights, bare headed, then gathered in, what I hoped would look like groups of men chatting. We were less than two hundred paces from the walls. Shields and helmets lay scattered around.
Irish War (Anarchy Book 16) Page 24