by Griff Hosker
“Yield!”
He lifted his visor and nodded, “I yield for I cannot lift my arm! You have hurt me most severely!” As a second knight with a yellow surcoat and blue lions galloped at me I saw that my son was engaged with Sir John Cockburn. Sir John had a reputation as a good tourney knight and I hoped that my son would err on the side of caution in his first battle. Then I was struck in the chest by the Scottish knight’s lance. It hurt but it also angered me. I had been careless for I had been watching my son instead of my enemy. My new plate had held and I swung my sword at the wooden lance. I hacked a chunk from it, making it useless as a weapon. The two lines of knights were now engaged and their standards still flew for their squires were yet to be engaged. Sir George and his horsemen were ploughing into the right flank of the Scottish foot and, already, the Scots were trying to flee. That would be hard to do with Sir George and his horsemen hard upon their heels.
I had my own battle to fight. I raised my sword and shouted, “Squires, now is your chance for glory! Take those banners!”
If the banners fell then we had won. Ralph shouted, “At them! For Sir William!” I leapt Hawk into the stream for it was time to end this battle. My mighty horse was so powerful that it made the young knight’s horse reel and I was able to bring my sword down to smash the rider’s right hand. He had a mail glove but it still numbed the hand. I backhanded the knight across the chest with my sword and he tried to raise his hand to fend off another blow. I did not give him the opportunity and I stood in my stirrups and swept my sword at the side of his head. His hand was still numb and he failed to lift it high enough. The blade rang against the visored sallet basinet denting it. I lifted my left leg and pushed him into the water. His horse, freed from its burden, galloped up the bank towards the safety of our lines. There was no fighting there. The knight sank beneath the water and then popped up. He pulled his helmet from his head which I saw was bleeding. I spurred Hawk and had my sword close to his eye, “Yield for you cannot fight on!”
He looked around. My son had unhorsed and captured Sir John Cockburn and Sir John had Sir John Haliburton nursing a broken arm. He too had yielded and he nodded.
“Your name, sir?”
“Sir Thomas Haliburton.”
Just then I heard a cheer and saw that Harry, Gilles and Ralph had captured three standards and the squires and remaining knights had yielded. It was not just down to their skill, for Sir George and his men had routed the rest of the Scottish raiders and his light horsemen were now chasing down and butchering those who had fled.
“Well done! Fetch the prisoners to our side of the river. Alan of the Wood, have some men gather the spare animals! Sir George’s men can recover the captives and the animals. We have earned our rest!”
We had had the harder fight. One Scottish knight lay dead but we had another twelve prisoners. Sir George would have a share of each of the ransoms, a tenth, but the rest would go to my men. Even Ralph, Gilles and Harry would receive coin for they had captured standards and they were as valuable as knights. The Battle of Nesbit Moor was a great victory and we were all richer for it.
We discovered that the raiders had reached the River Wear. Durham had been threatened. The west had seen the Scots surround Carlisle before the Earl of Westmoreland drove them back. The losses were not as bad as they might have been. Had the Earl of March still been on the Scottish side then things would have gone ill. We sent riders for the ransom and to tell King Henry, now in Wales, and Henry Percy, of the raids.
It was the last day of June when we heard of the disaster of Bryn Glas. The Welsh had brought men towards England and Mortimer had led the men of Hereford to throw them back. The Welsh had not only defeated Edmund Mortimer, but they had also taken him prisoner. All the joy of victory and our low losses evaporated in an instant. All of us had expected that with Hotspur, the King and Prince Henry in Wales that the Welsh rebellion would be quashed. It seemed that was not the case. Edmund was the brother in law of Henry Hotspur and something did not seem quite right about the loss. The Welsh had yet to defeat the English in a battle and for a lord like Mortimer to be defeated seemed, to me, to be odd, to say the least.
“Sir George, when the ransoms have come, I must take my leave of you. I think that the King and Prince Henry will have need of me and my men. This border is secure; the Welsh one appears to be in a parlous state.”
“Aye, you are right but I will be sorry to see you go. You are few in number yet you fight like a mighty host.”
Most of the ransoms had come by the first week in July and we rode home. Sir George would send the rest when it arrived. We had mail, horses, weapons and coin. My sons had profited. Pyotr and Abelard both felt guilty because they alone out of the squires had not covered themselves in glory. Harry showed his maturity by telling them of the times he had been forced to watch others fight and be rewarded. As we rode south, I was proud of my sons as they both counselled the young squires.
“This was the first time you have faced an enemy. Harry here held horses prior to this battle.”
I heard Harry laugh, “Aye, if I did not have to gather coin to become a knight then I might have stayed on our side of the river. I think I had a rush of blood! Fear, not. It will get easier and Ralph, Gilles and I will be here to help you. You are part of our company now and we look after each other.”
I took Sir John and Ralph to one side, “That was bravely done, Ralph.” He nodded. “Sir John, I would find another squire for I have a mind to dub Ralph here. I need more knights to follow my banner and Ralph has shown, this day, that he has what it takes.”
I saw that Ralph was delighted with my words and Sir John nodded, “You are right, Sir William, although I will be loath to lose such a good friend.”
“And you will not be losing him. He would still live in Dauentre. I know the value of such bonds as you enjoy with Ralph!”
By the time we reached Weedon, we had discovered that the country was on a knife-edge. A defeat by the Welsh was unheard of and Wales seemed much closer than remote Scotland. Only the Severn was a barrier. Cereals and food prices rose. My wife had something to be pleased about but she too was worried and, for once, did not object when I said I would be riding west to speak with the King. I left my knights at home. They would not be needed. I took half of my archers and men at arms and I rode Hart. As we rode I confided, for the first time, in Harry. His courage at Nesbit Moor had impressed me and he seemed to have grown since his brother had been given his spurs. He listened as I spoke my fears out loud.
“But it is just one battle. We have won many more.”
“Aye, but we have lost a powerful lord. His nephew, also called Edmund Mortimer, has a claim to the crown. His claim is the equal of King Henry’s. The fact that one so close to the crown has been captured is not a good sign.”
I saw realisation dawn on my son’s face. He now understood that it was more than just a battle lost. It was a shift in the political landscape. I needed to speak with the King and the Prince as soon as possible. As for Percy? I would speak with him if I had to.
The King was at Caernarfon Castle along with Prince Henry when I eventually found him. I had gone to Chester first. The battle had occurred on the border with Herefordshire and I wondered why the King and his son were so far from the scene of the battle. The King looked relieved to see me, “Baron, you bring good news about the Scots?”
“We defeated them but only after they had raided England. Families suffered, Your Majesty.”
He sank back into his chair and rested his chin on his hands. He was deep in thought.
Prince Henry looked to have grown since I had last seen him. It had been more than a year ago. It was he who spoke to me, “My father has much on his mind. I am something of a failure, Baron. If I had defeated Glendower at the start instead of heeding the advice of Henry Percy then the Scots would not have grown so bold and tried to imitate Welsh.”
I looked at the King. I was a father and I knew that Henry was asking hi
s father to tell him that he was wrong but the King did not. “Speaking of Hotspur, where is he?”
“When he heard of the attacks on his lands he left and took with him all of his men.”
I looked at the King. He shrugged, “I made a mistake, it seems I was too clever. I made him lieutenant of North Wales and it afforded me nothing!” He leaned forward. “There is a plot and I see it clearly now. Mortimer is involved! I can see their clever plan and it will not work.”
I was confused and I looked from father to son. “I do not understand; Mortimer was taken prisoner does that not mean he is just a poor leader rather than a traitor?”
“Ha!” The King’s snort spoke volumes.
Prince Henry said, “My father may well be right. The men of Hereford were slaughtered and yet Mortimer was taken prisoner. They now demand a huge ransom for him, from the crown!”
“And I will not pay! They killed Sir Robert Whitney, my Knight Marshal and the Welsh witches desecrated his body!” In the King’s eyes, this made it personal.
Prince Henry appeared calmer and in more control of his emotions, “And that is another reason, Sir William, why Hotspur has returned home. He is angry with us for Mortimer is his brother in law and he is annoyed that we will not ransom him.”
I shook my head. I was becoming more confused with each passing moment, “What has he to gain?”
The King was deep in thought and Hal explained, “The ransom could be paid but it would mean we could not pay the men and knights who fought for us. Hotspur has already objected to the fact that we have not paid him for defending the northern borders. The lack of money weakens the crown and Mortimer’s nephew has a claim to the crown. He was young when my father was given the throne but now, he is manipulated by Hotspur and Mortimer. Mortimer gave himself to the Welsh. Hotspur is in collusion with Glendower although we cannot prove it and the man is too powerful.”
King Henry rose and put his arm around me, “So, Will Strongstaff, once again the king of England and his heir have just one hope, and that is you. The Black Prince chose you well!”
I sat in a chair, stunned. Once more I would be at the heart of conspiracies, plots and knives in the night. The pleasant life of a lord of a manor was ended. I was going back to war. We left Caernarfon and headed for Chester.
Chapter 12
The King seemed quite happy to stay at Chester. London was too remote from both places of danger. With Percy in the north and Glendower in the west, he needed to be close enough to react to any threat from either of them. He allowed me and my men a day or two to recover and then sent for me. There was only Prince Henry with us. The young prince was a most thoughtful youth and while the King spoke, I saw him weighing every word. I am not certain that, if he had been king, he would have acted the same way but he knew that he was not the king and he would learn while he could.
“What think you of George Dunbarre? Can we trust him?”
I nodded, “For the moment yes, King Henry, for it is in his own interest to support England. Douglas is his enemy and Percy fights Douglas. He will continue to keep us safe but he is a good general, Your Majesty. He knows how to fight in the borders. If he should turn against us then I would fear him.”
The King nodded, “And Neville?”
“I believe you can trust him. He has reason to both hate and fear Percy.”
The King nodded, “Aye, there’s the rub. We cannot trust Percy. This is the second time he has abandoned his position here and now he makes demands for money!”
I did not like to defend Henry Percy but the King wanted him to guard the northern border and he could not do both.
Prince Hal was Prince of Wales and he brought the King back to the matter at hand, “Your Majesty, this does not help us with the Welsh. Our ring of castles holds them here but now that Mortimer is captured then the door to the heart of England is open.”
The King waved an airy hand as though to dismiss the words, “Fear not, the Earl of Stafford is mustering his men and the Earl can be trusted. He will not join the rebels. However, you are right, we need more intelligence. Strongstaff, I would have you take your men and find where this Welsh threat is. We watch the north. Ride to Powys. I give you until the middle of September to find out where Glendower and his men are gathering. I am reluctant to waste money paying men to fight until I have to. The Marcher Lords have had their chance. If Glendower ravages their lands then it is they who are responsible but I will not have my realm harmed.”
It was a hard task but I had to obey. “Aye, lord.” I left the hall immediately and went to my men and my squire who were in the outer ward, practising. I waved my arm to gather them. “Prepare your war gear for we ride on the morrow.”
My two captains nodded and Alan of the Woods, who knew that if we were scouting, he would be at the fore, asked, “Where to, my lord?”
I sighed for the command the King had given to me was unfair and most difficult for we had not had any sighing of Glendower since the rebellion had begun. “We have to find Glendower and his army.”
Only Harry reacted, “That is simple then. First, find the hidden haystack and the needle which is buried within it!”
My men laughed at his words.
“No one said that the road to knighthood was easy, Harry!” He nodded and began to flush. “We do not have long to do so. Owen, Geraint and David, you are all Welsh. You will take off my livery and adopt the garb of men for hire. You will ride two miles ahead of us and leave a marked trail.”
David of Welshpool was a sergeant at arms. He knew he would be leading the two archers and he nodded, “And whence do we begin, my lord?”
“The battle was fought in Shropshire. The Shropshire hills would be a good place to start.”
Just then the Prince appeared from behind my men. I guessed, from his words, that he had been listening. He was alone. “My lord, those who survived the battle said that the Welsh used the hills as a place to ambush our men. The battle has encouraged many Welshmen to return to Wales to fight. Students from the universities are leaving their studies to fight under Glendower’s banner. Your men could pretend to be three such turncoats.”
David nodded, “Thank you, Prince Henry, we can dissemble!”
The Prince, who was more intelligent than either his father or King Richard asked a question which struck to the heart of the matter, “And you three do not wish to join this rebellion against me and my father?”
My veterans all knew Prince Henry and they had helped to train him. When they spoke to him it was not as their future king but as a comrade in arms and he received that same honesty which they gave each other. “The rebels are wrong, Prince Henry. This Owen Glendower seeks to take advantage of a piss poor English knight.” I saw Hal smile. He shared their opinion of Lord Grey. “Glendower farms poor land and he would rather own the richer land of England. Do not worry, Prince Henry, there are other Welshmen like us. True, there are young hotheads who will join the rabble-rousers. There always are. They will melt away when they face real warriors. The danger, as Owen and Geraint will tell you, will come from the archers.”
“You do not need to tell me, David, for it was the archers who won the battle of Bryn Glas and I did not doubt, for an instant, your loyalty. I just wished to get inside the head of a Welshman. I am Prince of Wales and I need to find a way to rule these people.” He turned to me, “A word, my lord?”
I nodded, “Prepare the horses and war gear. We will not need tents nor lances. We take spears. Harry, we need no banner and we can leave the horse armour here. If we have to fight a battle then we have failed.”
My men disappeared and Prince Henry said, “I am not certain that my father employs the correct strategy here. I would have paid the ransom just to keep Percy on our side and then I would have watched Mortimer. Find Glendower but do so without risk to yourself. We need you and your men.” He smiled and was the young lad who had come to Weedon to learn to fight, “I need you!”
“Do not fret, Prince Henry
, I have no intention of being caught. I have brought twenty men and I would stack those against any other hundred men in any realm!”
“One thing more, Sir Thomas Fitzalan, the Earl of Arundel is a loyal man. King Richard abused him but he is a great friend of mine. His castle still holds against the enemy and he escaped from the battle. He will be someone who has knowledge of the enemy.”
“Thank you for that information.”
“Do not waste time seeking every answer. We need to know the whereabouts of Glendower. The information regarding Mortimer would be useful but it is not worth risking your life to obtain it. It will be easier for you and we have given you a hard enough task as it is.”
We had sixty miles to go to reach the battlefield. We camped on a wooded and craggy hill just south of Criggion. We were now in Wales but there were no castles and lords to spy on us. Our three scouts had kept the road well-marked for us and we ate cold fare and drank from skins of ale.
Before we left, I spoke with my scouts who had rejoined us. “Clun Castle is still held by Sir Thomas Fitzalan. We will stay there tomorrow night and you three can scout ahead. We will leave and meet you on the battlefield. That will be as good a place as any to begin our search.”
I hid the fact that I did not like Thomas Fitzalan. His family had opposed King Richard and he had helped to topple the King I had served. However, he was loyal to King Henry and, as a friend of Prince Henry, I would put aside my personal feelings. Of course, we might not be made welcome. The last time I had seen the lord had been in North Wales when we had returned from Ireland. I had faced down King Richard’s enemies; that was when I angered the Percy family. The oath to the Black Prince had cost me dear.
We were, surprisingly, welcomed. I later discovered that Prince Henry had sent one of his pages, escorted by two men at arms to warn Fitzalan that I might be calling. Young Henry was a more thoughtful man than his father.