Wolf Wood (Part Two): The Dangerous years

by Mike Dixon

  Robin had just returned from a battle. They had rescued Harald and Robin had planned it all. Harald said he didn't expect ever to see Alice and little Steven again then he saw Robin down by the river. That was when the cardinal's men were taking him for walks. They hoped someone would try to rescue him and lead them to Alice.

  Robin had beaten them at their own game. He had worked out this brilliant plan. He'd got Uncle Philip's men to create a diversion. Harald had spoken about it. They started a fight with the ferrymen then, when everyone went to watch, some more of Uncle's men pushed them into the water. Harald thought he would drown but Robin got him into their boat.

  They were in the Thames estuary in Uncle's ship. It was one of those fast ones from Flanders ... and it was going fast. Henriette could hear the wind in the sails and the shouts of the crew as they changed course.

  The crew were speaking Breton. Her mother was Breton and she could understand the language. But not all of what they said because it was full of nautical terms and rude words which had never been explained to her.

  She guessed they were about sex. Her aunts wouldn't speak of it but Alice had told her all about it. Sex was about making love and having children. You didn't just do it with anyone because children needed to be looked after and that meant you only did it with a man you wanted to spend your life with.

  The priests didn't explain it like that. They said you didn't do it because God said you mustn't. Alice said that was because they wanted you to do whatever they said and that was why they didn't give reasons. If they gave reasons, people might start to argue and they didn't want that. Alice didn't like priests and they knew it. They were frightened of her. That was why they wanted to kill her.

  An explosion shook the boat. Henriette guessed they were firing the cannons at the back. That was another thing about the Flemish ships. Some of them had cannons. Not big ones that were used to knock down castles but small ones that would fit on a ship. Robin was standing at one of the portholes.

  'What's happening?'

  'We're being followed,' he said.

  'Are we firing at them?'

  'Aye. We've shredded their sails. They won't be able to catch us. They've lost too much canvas.'

  On deck, Philip barked an order. The ship lurched. Steven squealed and Alice took him in her arms. Henriette lost her balance and fell onto a pile of sacks. Water gushed into the hold.

  'We've been hit.'

  'No. We're alright.' Robin hung onto a beam with his injured hand. 'We're tacking. The water's coming in through the portholes. The wind is behind us now.'

  The ship righted and they took turns at the porthole. Blood streamed from Robin's injured arm and stained her dress. On deck, Philip was still shouting orders.

  'What's he saying?' Robin asked.

  'Something about another boat.'

  Henriette poked her head through the porthole. All she saw was the horizon and a patch of sky. The boat was leaning over at a crazy angle. Then it settled down and she found herself staring at the prow of a warship.

  The huge vessel was closing in on them at a frightening speed. There were archers on its deck and men with grappling hooks. She could hear them shouting in English. Above her head, the crew was hurling back insults in Breton.

  They were on a collision course and the distance was closing fast. She thought they would smash into one another. Then, at the last moment, the two vessels changed course and scraped sides. Spars snapped and covers broke loose. Faces stared down at her. Grappling hooks lashed out. Henriette jumped back.

  They were about to be boarded.

  'Stand by!'

  An English voice rang out.

  Men were poised to jump the gap.

  She saw figures silhouetted against the sky.

  Robin drew his sword and she reached for her dagger.

  Then the cannons roared. Grapeshot spattered the English ship. Bodies and bits of bodies tumbled into the water. A spar broke loose and something smacked her in the face.

  'Are you alright?'

  She heard Robin and felt his arms about her. Voices were shouting in Breton. She opened an eye and saw feet. Blood ran into her eyes. The crew was yelling for them to shut the porthole. Everything was confusion and noise. Alice was talking and Steven was crying. The pain in her face got worse.

  'It's not serious.'

  Alice's voice was drowned out by swearing. The Bretons couldn't get the porthole shut. Wood from the other ship was jammed into it. Henriette winced as her cheek was probed.

  'You are lucky not to have been badly hurt.'

  Alice pulled something from the wound.

  'There's nothing to worry about.'

  'I'm not worried,' Henriette protested. 'I want to know about Robin.

  'Robin is helping them tie the porthole shut.'

  Henriette craned her neck and saw him tugging on a rope. She was lying on a pile of sacks. The boat was racing ahead on an even keel. She could hear the wind in the sails and the swish of water against the sides. The Bretons were cheering. She guessed they had beaten off their attackers.

  Robin came and lay beside her. With the portholes shut it was pitch dark. Alice was somewhere with Steven and Harald. The Bretons were on deck. She snuggled up close and felt his breath on her neck. Girls of her class were often married by her age. Alice had waited until she was almost thirty before Steven was born. It had taken her so long to find her man. Henriette felt a surge of pride. She was only sixteen and her man was beside her.

  They had lain together before and returned kisses. Robin had been reluctant to take their love making further. He said she was too young and of noble birth. That was ridiculous. Her family were pirates and she was not too young. She needed a man to protect her. When she pressed against him she felt his passion. It was hard and pulsating with life. They could both die before the night was out. Henriette resolved that she would not die a virgin.

  Interlude

  Cardinal Henry Beaufort continued his relentless campaign against Duke Humphrey. Henry Bolingbrook was hanged, drawn and quartered and the Witch of Eye was burnt at the stake. In November 1441, the duke was forced to divorce Eleanor who was convicted of sorcery and imprisoned. Six years later, in 1447, Duke Humphrey was arrested for alleged treason. He died in custody five days later. Cardinal Beaufort died in bed a few weeks later.

  The French overcame their differences and reorganised their forces with a central command. In August 1449, they embarked on the reconquest of Normandy and plunged the English into retreat.

  The Gascoignes and the Perrys were well established in France. Henriette was married to Robin Perry and they had two children. Harald Gascoigne was a senior official in the English administration and Robin was an officer in the Duke of York's army.

  Chapter 7

  Bayeux

  April 15th 1450

  Alice stood on the battlements and watched as a trickle of soldiers made their way between the two massive towers that guarded the main gate of the City. Earlier that day, the English had suffered a crushing defeat at Formigny, a small village ten miles away. An army of five thousand had been caught in a pincer movement and routed.

  Her immediate concern was for Robin who had gone out with a scouting party and had not yet returned. He was now thirty-one and a very different person from the bashful country boy she met when she first arrived in Sherborne. Robin spoke good French and had learnt to write the sort of English that was fashionable in Westminster. He reported directly to the Commander of the garrison, Matthew Gough. Like everyone else, they feared for their future.

  Their original intention had been to move to Gascony and settle in Bordeaux. The people of that region were staunchly independent and regarded themselves as subjects of the English king. Like the Bretons, they had resisted the French for centuries. Now it looked as if they would soon become French like the people of Languedoc to their east. They had once been part of the Mediterranean world. Two hundred years ago, the Francs swept down and conquered them, c
laiming they were heretics and enemies of Christ.

  Henriette had no objection to becoming French. She enjoyed good relations with the local Normans. The problem was her family. Henriette was a Maupassant. Like the Gascoignes. they were hated for their brutality and could expect little mercy when the English were finally expelled from France.

  Harald wanted to return to England but there was a warrant out for his arrest and Alice was still being hunted as a witch. Robin wanted to return but Henriette had been denied English nationality and could be refused entry.

  That was another part of the whole awful business. The Normans were regarded as subjects of the English king but that didn't give them an automatic right to leave Normandy and settle in England. Families would be torn apart when an English husband was forced to flee and his Norman wife was denied the right to leave with him.

  A blue and white banner caught her eye. It was being carried by an outrider and the man beside him looked like Robin. He was dressed in his officer's uniform and standing high in his stirrups, looking to left and right, signalling to his men, keeping them in tight formation. They were riding on either side of a group of horsemen. Alice caught a glimpse of their standard and her heart fell. She couldn't be sure but it looked like an animal on a blood-red background.

  As they drew closer, there could be no doubt. The animal was a three-headed wolf and the three Williams were riding beneath it. Sir William was slumped in his saddle and appeared to be injured. Guy was supporting him on one side. William rode on the other and held the Gascoigne banner in his outstretched arm.

  ***

  Robin entered the guardhouse and watched as Sir William's wounds were dressed. Commander Gough had sent his top surgeon to attend to the old man's injuries. He guessed it had been done out of respect for Harald. The commander had few kind feelings towards Sir William and others like him.

  Sir William and Guy headed one of the many irregular companies that roamed the land. They were used by both sides and widely hated. Robin had few doubts about what would happen when the war ended. The companies would go on the rampage like they always did when there was no work for them as mercenaries. The new French army would probably have the power to put them down. The same could not be said for the English. If the Gascoignes and their kind ever gained a foothold in England, they would rip the realm apart.

  The old man had received a sword thrust to his lower abdomen. A lesser man would already be dead but Sir William was battling on, surviving by pure willpower. It couldn't last. There was no surgeon in all of France who could stitch the vital organs back together again. Alice said such things were done in the Muslim lands but not in Christendom. Robin's spine tingled whenever he heard her speak like that. She had still not learnt to guard her tongue.

  Alice was assisting the surgeon. She was highly regarded as a healer and greatly respected by the local people. Even the priests had a good word for her. While in Normandy, she was safe. Letters from Sherborne, sent via Flanders, warned that Abbot Bradford was still calling her the Almshouse Witch and blaming her for the riot and damage to the abbey.

  He glanced between her and Sir William. The old man had reached out a hand and was calling her his favourite daughter and mother of his dearest grandchild. On the other side of the bed, William tensed. Robin watched as the expression on his battered face turned from resentment to pure rage.

  William was now even bigger than Guy. Father and son were separated by only fifteen years and often mistaken as brothers. Guy was immensely fit for his age and looked younger than his forty-one years. William was battle scarred and looked much older than his twenty-six.

  Guy had always been a vicious character. William was not just vicious. He was totally mad. Robin watched saliva form about his contorted jowls as his grandfather continued to praise Alice and her son, Steven. He clearly saw them as rivals for the old man's affection. More to the point, he probably saw them as rivals for the Gascoigne inheritance and that was very worrying.

  Robin resolved to talk to Harald at the first opportunity. Right now, Harald was in the castle keep with Commander Gough. The commander had taken part in the battle at Formigny and had fought his way back to Bayeux with remnants of the English army. Harald was no doubt helping him prepare dispatches while the garrison got ready to defend the City.

  ***

  Commander Gough waited as Harald penned the tiny slip of paper that would be dispatched by carrier pigeon. It was work that could only be entrusted to a senior member of his staff. He watched as Harald worked diligently, head poised a few inches above the table, forming each minute letter individually, taking care not to let the ink run. His short site seemed to be more of a help than a hindrance.

  The City gates were shut and anyone wishing to enter was obliged to use a heavily guarded postern gate set into the City walls. It was two hours after sunset and the commander was taking no chances. His blood boiled when he thought of the enormity of what had happened.

  An English relief army had crossed the Channel and landed at Cherbourg with cannons and enough gunpowder to storm a dozen castles. They should have been able to manage by themselves but were soon calling for reinforcements. He was sent with troops from the Bayeux garrison. The combined force was outmanoeuvred by the French and caught in a pincer movement, at Formigny.

  As each new fugitive arrived, the extent of the defeat became evident. Thousands, not hundreds, of English lives had been lost and the French had suffered only light casualties. Valuable munitions had fallen into enemy hands. Scores of knights had been captured. The unransomable rank and file were slaughtered where they stood.

  The relief army had been raised at colossal expense and was England's last throw of the dice. The end of English rule in Normandy was near. All that remained was to get out of an impossible situation and that meant negotiating from a position of strength.

  Some of the citizens of Bayeux would welcome the French. Almost everyone would welcome an end to the fighting. Commander Gough's concern was for the English settlers and people who would be persecuted for working too closely with them.

  A grunt from Harald said the message was finished. It was destined for the commander of Cherbourg Castle and gave a coded account of the defeat at Formigny. It would be up to him to pass the news to Westminster. Commander Gough didn't know how long that would take and didn't care. From now on, he would be working without interference from the nincompoops and traitors who ran things there.

  Chapter 8

  Skirmish

  Alice heard shouting and went to see what was happening. Their apartment was in one of the twin towers above the main City gate. On the battlements, far below, William was waving the Gascoigne standard and yelling a challenge to the Bastard of Orleans, commander in chief of the besieging French forces.

  'Fight to the death!' he screamed in Norman French. 'I, William the Bastard, challenge you French Bastard to single combat.'

  A crowd on the City walls was trading insults with the French. In the street below, a troop of heavily armoured men had lined up beside one of the postern gates. At first, Alice thought they were part of the regular garrison. Then she realised they were William's men.

  'Will! … Will! … Will!'

  They set up a chant and William ran from the battlements to join them. After that, everything happened at a mad rush. The postern gate flew open and the men sallied out. It all happened so fast, Alice had difficulty keeping pace with events.

  Robin had no such problems. He dashed from his apartment, glanced over the City wall and ran towards the guardhouse, shouting to his men to sound the alarm. The bell on the tower rang, calling the garrison to action stations. Alice placed her hands over her ears and watched as the scene was transformed.

  Robin was not dressed for action. Nor were many of the men streaming into the streets. Some were buckling on armour as they went, often with a member of their family hurrying alongside with breast plates and other gear.

  Elsewhere, people were building barricade
s with materials stacked ready for that purpose. Alice saw her son, Steven, amongst them. He was now twelve and big for his age. She watched him at work with older boys, heaving beams into place.

  William's band of desperados had intimidated the guards into opening the postern gate and had created a dangerous situation. The gate was there for the garrison to sally out and attack the enemy. William had left it open. It wasn't clear whether he had done so to entice the enemy into a fight or to let them in. Either way, the French were on the move.

  A detachment of cavalry was galloping across the no-man's-land towards them. Alice recognised their standards. They included those of some of France's most distinguished families. The knights dismounted at fifty paces, left their horses with their squires and advanced in a solid mass.

  On the other side of the wall, women were shouting, telling William's men to get the gate shut. Others were screaming hysterically. In the midst of the confusion, Robin arrived. He'd not had time to put on full armour and his only protection was a padded jacket and steel helmet. A sword hung at his side and he carried a crossbow. He advanced towards the gate, which was flanked by two of William's men.

  'Shut and arm the gate.'

  He barked the order and the men gestured back contemptuously. The next moment they were falling forward, clasping their bellies. Alice guessed Robin had shot them. His men knocked the pair aside, slammed the gate shut and dropped the heavy beams that held it in place.

  A battle was now raging on the other side of the wall. William had not deserted to the French as she had feared. He was fighting them and his taunts had attracted some big fish. The Bastard of Orleans was not there but some leading French lords were. Alice guessed William planned to take prisoners and hold them for ransom.

  She was no stranger to blood and gore. Hours tending the wounded had inured her to the horrors of severed limbs and spilt entrails. But, this was the first time she had seen carnage in action. Conflicting emotions drove her first one way then another. She didn't want to watch but wanted to see what was happening. There was something primeval and fascinating about men engaged in bloody combat. She felt guilty for wanting to look.