When Sir Jocelyn and his men were seen crossing the ford, a trumpet sounded and I saw men leaving the main wall to head to the north gate and the bridge. Not long after the men had begun to move I heard a shout from the town wall as they saw Sir Maurice’s intent. Another trumpet sounded and more men left the upper walls. Surreptitiously picking up helmets and shields we moved a little closer.
I said, “Begin to taunt them, Roger of Bath!”
“Aye lord!” He and my men had been looking forward to this. I asked my men at arms to begin taunting as Padraig had taught them a little crude Irish. They began to curse their forebears and suggest that their mothers slept with swine. The others did the same but in English. Crude gestures were made and the Irish responded. The two archers with my raiding parties began to send their arrows towards the bridge and the town walls. I saw more men leave the main wall. Sir Maurice used a shield wall to allow his men with fire to get closer to the walls. At the bridge I heard the clash of arms. Another trumpet sounded and more men left to stop the fires. Now it was time. There were less than half the men on the upper walls than there had been before.
“Form ranks.” I joined Count Striguil and six carefully chosen knights. They had all attacked a wall before and they all had a full helmet such as I wore. I used knights for the first six ranks. Three of them, the three largest, bore axes. Roger of Bath held my men at arms and the other men at arms as a reserve. The squires fell in behind the knights. We did not chant we just hefted our shields and, with helmets donned, began to hurry towards the bridge. I heard a shout and knew that we had been spotted. They had large numbers of men trying to put out the fires. They had learned their lesson the previous day. Arrows and sling shot were sent in our direction. With our shields high and our full helmets on our heads we were immune from damage by their missiles. I heard an arrow clang off my helmet. The Irish used hunting arrows. The stones were more dangerous but we were lucky, they struck shields.
We reached the bridge and crossed to the first gate. Aelric and his archers had followed up behind. The Irish archers were at the bridge and the town wall trying to deter our two attacks. Our archers could release with impunity. A body crashed down before us as we reached the gate.
“Shields and axes!” I lifted my shield as did the Count and Sir Ranulf. Beneath the three shields three other knights began to swing their axes at the gate. Another body fell from the wall and almost knocked me from my feet. I angled the shield and the Irish warrior slid into the ditch. I heard shouts from within as they tried to reinforce this wall. That was a mistake. Had I been in command I would have abandoned the gate and retired to the second wall. They did not and, when the gate was burst asunder, we raced in and butchered the men who were running along the ditch to reach the second gate.
As we ran I saw another flaw in their plan. We were able to have our shields on our left arms for the path went to our right. We could run and we were still protected. They had brought more archers back. Stones and arrows hit our shields but we were not knocked to the ground. We were not trying to run in one column. It would have been fruitless. Knights were catching Irish warriors and slaying them. As soon as Aelric and his archers got through the gate they began to pick off the enemy archers. At the same time Roger of Bath brought our men at arms to clamber up the ditch and using the short ladders they had made. They would ascend the walls. I risked looking up and saw the Chief and the Prince were at the gate.
There were no Irish left alive before us and I shouted, “Halt and reform!” As soon as we turned to cross the bridge and attack the second gate then the men on our right would be in danger of being struck. “Rear rank! Shields!” The last line of knights ran to stand with their backs to our column, holding their shields before them.
Once again, my knights with axes began to hack at the gate. This time they poured boiling water upon us. They had not prepared large enough quantities and although it was painful our surcoats and mail prevented serious damage. If they had used oil then we would have been in trouble. I heard a shout from our left. Then James, who led the squires, shouted, “Roger of Bath is inside the fort!”
The shout spurred on our knights and four mighty strokes later the gates burst open and we were inside. This time there were men waiting for us. I used my shield to block the axe which swung down at me and I slashed across the middle of the warrior. I saw his entrails as my sword came away. I passed the dead man to allow the other knights to enter. A sword came from nowhere towards my head. The helmet did not help with peripheral vision. The sword rang off my helmet I turned my head and saw a surprised Irishman with a bent sword in his hand. I backhanded my sword across his neck and he died with the same surprised look on his face.
“Shields!”
Now was not the time to become reckless. We needed to drive the Irishmen before us and suffer as few casualties as possible. Count Striguil appeared on my right and other knights joined to his right.
“March!”
We stepped forward with swords held above our shields. The knights with axes moved down the palisade. The three of them hacked and chopped all those who ran at them. With our right flank secure and our men at arms piling down to our left we moved towards the centre of the fort. Inside it was largely empty save for a hall which looked as though it was their barracks. I heard Irish voices. I had no doubt that they were exhorting their men to great deeds. Without Padraig to interpret it was just a strident cacophony of cries.
The Irish way of war appeared to be to throw yourself high in the air and land upon your opponent. Perhaps it worked if your enemy was without mail and as poorly armed as you. We were not. Three young warriors with limed hair and a crudely made tattoo of a bear on their chest ran at our line and jumped high into the air. Their swords were above their heads. If they had struck down with them then we would have been knocked from our feet. As it was we swung our swords and the men were disembowelled as they fell. Their swords fell from lifeless hands and we stepped over their bodies.
Having seen that those tactics did not work the next one was to race at us in such numbers that they would overwhelm us. We now had thirty knights within the walls. They might have numbers but no longer enough to surround us. Our two flank attacks, which were still going on, had drawn a large number of Irish warriors away. We now had to drive them from the fort.
It was when Aelric and his archers entered the main gates that the tide really turned. Once the arrows flew to take the ones at the rear of the line we were able to force back the press of men before us. They had battered our shields and our helmets but done us no damage. Our blades found flesh whenever they struck for they had no armour. This was not like fighting a Viking. As I swept my sword before me to slash two men at the same time I realised why the Vikings had been able to hold on to such large towns as they had. The Irish, no matter how brave and how numerous, could not defeat mailed men.
I saw Prince Domhnall and his five oathsworn. They were desperately trying to find a way out of the trap they were in. I shouted, “Count, there is our target!”
The two of us led six knights towards them. The squires had caught up with us and they were able to take over our drive towards the north gate of the fort. Prince Domhnall was trying to get to the west gate. I guessed he had horses waiting. The problem was that Roger of Bath and the men at arms had cut off their escape.
Two oathsworn stepped before their Prince. Count Striguil said to me, “Take these two and I will try to take him alive!”
It was a mistake but I admired his courage and his noble intent. “Sir William, these two are ours.”
The young knight, delighted to be fighting alongside the Earl Marshal roared, “Aye lord!”
My aim was to move them from before their Prince. Both had shields and swords. I swung my sword backhanded across my shield. It had the effect of making him turn his body to take the blow, aimed at his sword, on his shield. Sir William was even more direct. He punched his opponent in the face with his shield and the Irishman tumb
led over. He was agile and leapt to his feet but there was now a gap into which Count Striguil stepped. As I brought my sword over my head to slice into the helmet and skull of the oathsworn I fought I heard Count Striguil’s sword clash with Prince Domhnall.
“You cannot win. Come back and stand trial!”
There was another clash of steel and I heard the Prince’s voice, “So that I may be paraded before you Normans and kept a prisoner for the rest of my life? I would rather die.”
I took my sword from the skull of the dead Irishman and turned. The other oathsworn were dead, dying or so badly wounded that they would not survive the night. I glanced to my right and saw that Lord Turloch Mór Ó Conor had been knocked to the ground by Sir Jocelyn and the Irish were surrendering. I took off my helmet.
There were just two men left fighting. Count Striguil could have killed the Prince of Leinster any time he chose. He was being too honourable. The blows struck by Prince Domhnall grew weaker and weaker. Count Striguil was going to wear him down. The Count might have succeeded if one of the badly wounded oathsworn not reached up to stab the Count in the calf. Instinct took over. The Count stabbed down to kill the man as Prince Domhnall tried to sweep his sword across the Count’s body. The blow was blocked and the Count could not help himself. He reacted as any well-trained warrior would do. He just lunged forward and his sword ended the life of Prince Domhnall mac Murchada.
For Sir Richard this was no victory. He felt that he had lost. He would now be crowned King but it was not the way he wished it to be.
Our knights, men at arms and archers were cheering and banging their shields. Count Striguil had his head hung down. I put my arm around his shoulders, “You did your best. Conchobar is avenged and, I think, his father. I do not think his father would have died so soon had not his favourite been murdered.”
He stood. “Perhaps you are right. And now what do we do?”
I pointed to the five dead knights and three men at arms who lay close to us. “We have lost too many men to let this jewel go. Take it for your kingdom. Build a real castle here. You have the makings of a motte.”
“But what of King Henry?”
“You still have that bridge to cross but if you control the Shannon then you have more to bargain with should there be a problem. The King will recognise that he has a good chance for us to subdue Ireland. He can obey the papal bull and make England and Wales safer from the slave raiders. Build the castle.”
“Then I will give it to Sir Maurice. He has done well.”
“And you had best get the wound seen to. You do not want to lose the leg because of a dirty wound.”
We spent the rest of the day clearing the dead and moving our men into the fort. We moved the horses closer to the fort and they grazed happily on the lush grass. Lord Turloch Mór Ó Conor had survived. He was held in the hall with his oathsworn. They would be our prisoners. The Count had not decided what to do with them yet. The rest of his men had disappeared.
As we ate that night I said, “On the morrow I will take my men at arms and archers. We will return to Dyflin and I will take ship for England. You need me no longer.”
The Count nodded, “You are right although I am reluctant to see you go. Will you return?”
I could not lie to the Count. We had stood together in a shield wall. We were brothers in arms. “The King may be unhappy with your gains. I will make your case for you but I am King Henry’s man. I cannot promise that this will end well.”
“I could not fight you.”
“Let us not make problems which do not exist. The King may not be unhappy with your gains.”
“I do not want to be king!”
“I smiled, “I think in your heart you do. What you really mean is that you do not wish to antagonise King Henry and that I can understand. Know you that I will plead your case as best I can.”
“Then I am hopeful. You are honest and your word is trusted. If you cannot persuade the King then no man can.”
I did not depart the next day. Count Striguil had sent men out early to seek any survivors who might be waiting to do harm. They rode back within a short time of leaving. “Count, the High King. He is approaching from the south west. He has an army.”
“I thought he had paid reparations and given hostages?” The Count was visibly shocked.
I pointed to Padraig, “As my servant said, that means nothing. I fear we must fight him again and this time the hostage we take and hold must be the High King and his family.”
“You are right. How do we fight him?”
“The land to the west is flat. He may think his ally still holds the crossing. We have the archers in the fort and we charge them.”
“That sounds simple.”
“Sometimes the best ideas are. There are no woods in which they can hide. Our horses have been rested for three days and our men are exultant. Men fight better when they have won a battle. These men have yet to lose one.” I looked at his leg. “How is the wound?”
“It will not stop me.”
“Then lead them Count. I will ride behind your banner.”
We made out three lines. The difference this time was that the Count placed the men at arms in the second rank. He said they had earned the right. Padraig, reluctantly, stayed in the fort. We saw the horde approach. There was no order whatsoever. The High King had taken any man he could to wrest the land back from us and he had large numbers. I saw half-naked wild men. There were some mailed men. I even saw a few Vikings fighting for the High King. Apart from the Vikings and the chiefs around the High King I saw few shields. There was no order to their approach. Men looked to be fighting in clans or family groups. They were knotted around one warrior. The High King rode at the fore and they spread out over a large area.
The Count waited until they were just three hundred paces from us and then he gave the command, “Charge!”
This time we rode boot to boot. We rode in straight lines. Our horses were puissant beasts and they ate up the ground. They thundered across it and they made it shake. The High King had met us before and he led his mounted men towards the fort. Perhaps he thought it was still in his hands for we had no banners flying. The horde was slow to turn. The men he led were confused and they slowed. We ploughed into them. They had aided us for when they turned they presented their right sides to us. There were few shields amongst them but the ones they did possess were on the wrong side.
I pulled back my arm and thrust into flesh four times, killing each time I did so. On the fourth my spear broke and, as I pulled my sword out, I glanced to my right and the fort. The mounted men had reached the outer ditch. The High King had discovered that we held it. My archers slew half of the chiefs and oathsworn. Then my sword was out and I had no opportunity to see what went on anywhere but in front of me. I leaned forward to hack across the side of a Viking who was fighting with Sir Stephen. He had good mail. I had a better sword.
We were no longer boot to boot. Richard de Clare led the horsemen as a true leader should, from the front. His sword slashed left and right. We found ourselves deep in the heart of them. The folly of fighting in family groups was clearly shown. When a leader fell then his men fled. As more and more were slain so the flood of men fleeing grew. The enemy had broken. It had begun when the High King turned for the fort and speeded up when we struck. Now that we were in the heart of them panic had set in and men tripped and fell in their efforts to escape. Horses trampled those that did so. My sword became an iron bar. I was not hitting mail but skulls and spines and bone and my blade became blunted. It was when Warrior stumbled that I halted. De Clare and myself were alone. The rest of the army was behind us slaughtering all who still stood. Ahead of us more than a thousand men were still running.
The High King tried to join it but I watched as Count Striguil, Sir Maurice and Sir Stephen surrounded him with their men. The High King was no warrior nor was he a fool. I saw his standard cast to the ground and his helmet removed. We had won. This time the campaign was real
ly over. The High King would be kept prisoner. Castles would be built and Count Striguil would become King of Leinster. Someday he might become King of Ireland. That was for the future. For myself I was going home. It might be a long journey for first I would have to find King Henry. With my men at arms and archers along with our share of the treasure we had won, I headed for Dyflin and the ‘Maid of Portishead’ .
Epilogue
My journey home took longer than I either expected or hoped. I took ship and we rode, first to Chester, then Lincoln and finally London. The King and Queen were not there. They were in Chinon. I had sent my ship to London and we waited for five days for it to arrive. Then we sailed for Anjou. I reached Chinon almost four months after we defeated the High King. I had outridden the news. None knew of our success. There were rumours that we had defeated an Irish army and two Viking ones but details were vague. That heartened me. The King would hear what had happened from the lips of someone he trusted; me.
I found him and the Queen, once again pregnant, in the Great Hall. Every head turned as we were announced and entered. “Earl Marshal! We have missed you! How went the campaign?”
We were in the full court. I did not want the King to hear my news that way. “My liege I am weary after many months travelling. I would speak with you and the Queen privately.”
He frowned, “Why? What are you hiding?”
Eleanor had ever been my friend and she put her hand on her husband’s, “My lord I think that Alfraed has earned the right to speak to us privately.” She cocked her head on one side and gave him a winning smile.
He nodded, “You are right. I am sorry Earl Marshal. You are never one to make a fuss. Come we will go to my solar.”
Once in the private room I told him all that had happened. At first his face was dark and he stood as though angry. He went to the window and looked west. “Tell me this, Earl Marshal. Did he go there to win a kingdom?”
Irish War (Anarchy Book 16) Page 25