by Griff Hosker
I heard John shout, “Watch out!”
I turned to see a knight slicing down at me with his sword. I could not bring my shield around fast enough and then Roger of Lincoln leapt between us and brought his sword down to hack off the knight’s hand. The move was brave but it exposed Roger and a spear was thrust into his throat. I heard a roar of rage from my right as Wulfric leapt across me to slice off the head of the man with the spear. For some reason that set the whole of our line to advancing. I followed Wulfric who was like a wild bull. He seemed oblivious to anything save the desire to kill. He was like the three men my father had seen at Stamford Bridge, a berserker. A knight tried to attack his right side. I brought my sword down and it hit his helmet. He staggered, stunned and I used the point to stab him in the throat.
Wulfric’s charge had halted and shocked the enemy. Many of them stood there as he roared towards them. I yelled, “Charge!” It may have been foolish for they still outnumbered us but Wulfric had destroyed the cohesion of our line. It was our only chance. I was aware of John beside me. He held the standard in his left hand as he hacked and sliced with his sword.
A pair of knights ran at us. As the sword came overhand I blocked with my shield and swung my sword backhand across his middle. I felt it bite into the links and I followed it up with a punch to the face. He stumbled and I stabbed him in the side. I saw my banner fall as John slipped over a dead body. The knight John was fighting gave a cry of victory as he raised his sword to end John’s life. I swung sideways and sliced deep into his arm. The sword fell from his lifeless fingers.
He grabbed his arm and yelled, “I yield!”
I pointed to John, “Then you yield to my squire. Guard him John. Hold the standard here!” I did not want to risk John any more. He was too courageous for his own good.
I heard a loud noise from behind me and saw that the King had released the poorly armed men from the castle. They were just numbers who could not fight armed men but, to the rebels, it would have looked like reinforcements. They would despatch the wounded and make a nuisance of themselves. In many ways it was callous of the King but I understood why he did it. We could win this battle. We found ourselves beyond the stakes and the bodies of the enemy. This was the point at which they should have turned on us and brought their horses to cut us down. They did not.
A line of knights stood before us. Before them lay the handful who had outrun even Wulfric and they had been slain. Wulfric was breathing heavily. He had lost his shield and stood with his notched axe in two hands. I saw Count Geoffrey and his men. I shouted, “Anjou, form on me!”
The training we had done paid off and they flanked my giant and me. We advanced purposefully towards the ten knights who seemed determined to regain some honour for themselves. I recognised Sir Guillaume de Vexin. He had fought for the King when Juliana had rebelled. He came towards me and I prepared my sword. I held it above my shield and kept my shield tight to my body. This would be individual combats; knight against knight. As he approached me I took in the nicks and marks on his sword. He had fought but his sword had been damaged. I would use that. A large man, he tried to use brute force, much as Wulfric had done. He brought the sword from a long way back. I stepped to the side and the blade shaved my shield. I aimed a blow at his head which he deflected with his shield.
I was tiring. The previous day had taken its toll and my sword felt like an iron bar. I think he saw the exhaustion on my face and decided to end it. He brought the sword from a long way back. Instead of turning I took a risk; I used my quick hands and I lunged forward. The tip of my sword hit his mail and I stepped forward to give added power. I leaned in to the blow. I was acutely aware of the sword coming down and I pushed as hard as I could. I tore through the mail links and into his gambeson. As blood spurted I almost threw myself forward. That saved me for it was just the hilt of his sword which struck my helmet and by then he was falling backwards. I lost my balance and fell on top of him. A tendril of blood dripped down his cheek.
“You are lucky but your luck cannot last forever!” He sighed and died.
Hands pulled me to my feet. Count Geoffrey said, “Are you hurt?”
“No, my lord, just weary.” As I regained my feet I saw that we had routed them. They had mounted their horses and were fleeing east. I saw Wulfric on his knees. Blood covered every inch of him. I walked over to him. I knew what was on his mind. “Come, Wulfric, let us do honour to Roger of Lincoln. He was oathsworn to the end.”
Griff and Ralph had left the castle with my squires and they were standing over the body of my brave warrior, Roger of Lincoln. He had served me for many years. Ralph shook his head, “I took my eyes from you all for a moment my lord and this happened.”
“You could have done nothing. This was meant to be. He died a warrior and we will honour him.” I pointed to a small island in the middle of the river. “We will bury him there.” I looked around, “Where is John?”
“He took the prisoner to have his wounds attended to.”
“William, go and find him. Roger deserves us all to be there at his passing.” We placed him on our shields and we carried him to the river. We ignored the shouts of congratulations and the cheers. There would be a time for celebration but this was not it.
We waded through the shallow water to the small island. It was little more than a pace and half above the river but it would do. Wulfric used his axe to begin to dig the grave and then we scraped the soil out with our bare hands. John and William returned and joined us. Wulfric laid his friend in the bottom of the grave. He took Roger’s sword and handed it to John. “He would want a warrior to have this. You are that warrior. You fought bravely today. Roger had no son. Be the son he never had. Give him you short sword and he will carry that in the afterlife.” John laid the short sword along his body. Wulfric took Roger’s purse. “This is not for me. We men at arms have an agreement and this will pay for the drinks in Stockton until it is all gone. We will drink to his memory for as long as his gold lasts.” He shook his head and said quietly, “And for a long time after that.”
I laid his shield upon his body and we filled it in. We walked over the top to flatten the earth and then stood around. They looked to me and I summoned words from deep in my heart, “Almighty God, take into your care this brave warrior. He died defending his lord. He died with honour. He was never foresworn and he never betrayed a friend. I was honoured to have him as one of my men at arms. Now he is yours.” We bowed our heads. After a moment of silence I drew my sword and the others followed suit. I raised it as they did and we all shouted as one, “Roger! Warrior of Stockton!”
As we made our way back to the camp I saw the King, Sir Richard and Count Geoffrey watching us. My men and squires bowed as they passed the King. I stood with them.
“You care deeply for your men, Cleveland.”
“I do, my liege. I have rights but I have responsibilities. My men are like my family, if I do not care for them why should they care for me? Roger died saving my life. We will remember him for all time.”
The King nodded. I saw the Count reflecting upon my words. “Come we have had a great victory but now is not the time to celebrate. Too many good men have died. We must decide what to do on the morrow.”
Chapter 20
I was silent while we ate. I had no appetite. It had been some time since I had lost a man at arms and it hurt. I was suddenly aware that the King was speaking with me, “Your majesty?”
“I said, my lord, that we have not yet defeated our foes. What do you suggest that we do?”
“Why we chase them. Use just mounted men and pursue them. Follow them until they reach the land of King Louis and chase them a little further.”
Sir Richard and Count Geoffrey looked shocked. The King smiled, “The Earl has done this before. He enjoys annoying kings. Explain why.”
“By doing this we tell King Louis that if he continues to support rebels he risks your wrath.”
Sir Richard said, “But we have not enou
gh men to invade the land of King Louis!”
“We do not invade. If we are asked why we are there it is to bring rebels to justice. If they ask us to return to Normandy we will do so but we will have had the victory.”
The King nodded, “You are right. We have suffered too many insults from King Louis. We will take every man who can ride and we will follow them.” The King although grown older was still a decisive leader.
After the details were decided I headed back to my quarters. I needed to bathe and wash the stink of blood from my body. The King followed me. “What do you make of Blois?”
“You know my opinion, your majesty. I do not trust them but I have suffered your anger too many times to speak it openly again.”
He smiled, “You risk my ire again but I give you permission to speak freely.”
I sighed, “Let us assume this is the first time they have let you down. How did this army of rebels cross their land without their knowledge? Why did they not respond to your summons for help? If they can answer those questions to your satisfaction then I will apologise.” I knew that I would never have to apologise for the Blois brothers had their own plans.
“They are good questions. When we have finished with the rebels we will visit Blois.”
Before I retired for the night I sought Wulfric. He was with Griff and Ralph. He still looked in shock. It was not like Wulfric for he had seen many men die before. Then I remembered that Gurt, another friend, had died at Christmas. Mortality must be tapping on his shoulder. He stood when I entered, “I am sorry that I saw the red in my head today, my lord. I know that it could have caused us to lose the battle. I was angry and I just lost my temper. I know it is not good and I have warned others of this before now. I am ashamed of myself for succumbing so.”
“You are a warrior, Wulfric and you fight with your heart.”
“I did not know Roger until I served with you. He was a good friend. We survived so many times when I thought we would fall in battle. I began to think we would be as Osric and Athelstan; I believed we would enjoy some peace and sit around fires telling tales of old wars to young warriors. When he was slain…”
“I know, Wulfric. I choose you because you are Wulfric. Perhaps I should let you be my castellan instead of Erre.”
“No, my lord, I did not mean that. I would be offended if you did not let me lead your men.” He took a deep breath. “Roger had plans. He was seeing a girl in Stockton; a woman rather than a girl. She was Ethelred’s niece and she came to stay in the town last year. They were close. He was going to ask permission to marry.” He held up the bag of coins. “This would have helped them to do so. He wanted to make a fine home for her. Perhaps warriors such as us are doomed to a single life.”
“No, my friend but warriors should seize the moment. Lady Adela was taken too soon from me. Roger should have married the girl as soon as he knew she was the one. If you delay then who knows what fate will throw in your path.” He nodded and was lost in his thoughts.
I lay awake for some time. I felt so sad that Roger had sacrificed himself for me and he had thrown all thoughts of his own happiness out of his head. He was truly oathsworn.
Leaving Hunter at the castle we headed for Dreux. There was less damage than we might have expected but we left the Baron of Dreux and a larger number of men to repair and improve the castle’s defences. The King had realised the importance of the town. The land to the east of Dreux had been ravaged and plundered. There were burnt out manors and corpses being picked over by carrion. It was a sad sight. The rebels had devastated it. We reached the borders of Blois and saw that the landscape changed. There was no sign of a passing army.
We camped. The King was keen to be fresh when we entered France. That evening I saw him begin to simmer. Although he said nothing he glanced at me now and again. He was deep in thought. The land of Blois had been untouched; the land of Normandy had been laid waste. What other conclusion could he draw than that the Blois brothers had been complicit in the attack. He was silent. Count Geoffrey, in contrast, was garrulous. He was still full of the success he and his men had enjoyed in the battle.
“You were right, Earl Alfraed. All that training paid off. We were as one. I fought with more confidence for I knew that each man was doing the same as I was. I knew their strengths and that aided me. When I return home I would have you train all my knights. We will become a force to be feared.”
I shook my head, “I have been away for a long time. Sir Edward is a good knight but I was given the responsibility of defending the north. When harvest approaches there will be those who live north of the border and they will try to take what our people produce.”
“Then stay until harvest. I know my wife likes your company and you have not seen Rolf and the Swabians either.” He grinned, “You will need to fetch your yearlings in any case!”
“I will come to Angers when this is done but I cannot stay until the harvest is in. Besides, my lord, you know how to train your men yourself. You have grown since I first met you.”
He shook his head, “Do not remind me. I was a shallow, callow youth. I shudder when I remember how I left my post in that first campaign and had to be rescued by the King. You were all very patient with me.”
“Young men make mistakes. It helps them become old men.”
“You may be right but I think that the arrival of my son, Henry, changed me. When I saw his face and realised that I had made him… it made me grow up over night.”
We sent mounted scouts out early the next day to discover where the rebels had fled. We were rewarded with news when they returned at noon. “Your majesty. We have found a camp of rebels. They are in a small town just fifteen miles away.”
Sir Richard asked, “You are certain they are rebels. The last thing we need is to antagonise Louis.”
The King snapped, “I do not worry about Louis the Fat!”
“They are rebels my lord. We recognised the banners from their attack.”
“Then let us chastise them!”
We had thirty knights and forty men at arms. The King himself was armed and ready for war. He looked at the sky. “We can be there in less than an hour. We will teach them a lesson they will never forget. Fetch the lances. Have the archers guard the sumpters.”
We had too few archers for them to be used effectively and we needed our camp to be guarded. Archers were perfect for the role. “Leofric and William, your wounds are still to heal. You stay with Griff and Ralph.”
“Aye my lord.”
I considered asking Wulfric to stay but I knew he would not. There was still vengeful fury in his heart.
The enemy were at Méré. It was close enough to Paris for them to feel secure and the town was not fortified. Our scouts reported that the rebels had not moved and appeared to be settled there. We learned later that Montfort had a hall there although he was in Paris. Their camp was spread out over a large area. This time it would be the King and not I who gave the orders.
“We sweep through the camp. This time we can take prisoners and the ransoms we demand will be punitive!”
Wulfric and I formed up to the right of the King and his squire. Count Geoffrey was to my right. Sir Richard and the other knights were to the King’s left. John rode as ever, behind me. I knew that he would be eager to use his new sword. Like Wulfric he would wreak vengeance upon the rebels. The trees which surrounded the camp prevented us charging knee to knee but we did not need to do so. The men we charged were unprepared. Without trumpet or fanfare we set off. Cantering through the woods we soon lost all semblance of order. The King, who had not fought for some time, was keen to vent his anger. We struggled to keep up with him. Scout had enjoyed the rest and he was one of the few who kept pace with the eager King Henry.
As we burst into the open we heard the wail of dismay. Our hooves had been heard but the rebels stood, stunned, as we burst upon them. The King speared the first rebel. His spear shattered and he drew his sword. I urged Scout to his side as a man at arms rac
ed with axe raised to hack into his unprotected right side. I pulled back and punched with my lance. The man had no mail and the head of my lance went through his body. As he fell I released the lance and drew my sword. Once I was to the King’s right I reined in the eager Scout. I swept my sword from behind me and hacked across the shoulder and arm of a knight who rushed to get at the King. King Henry rammed his sword into the head of a hapless man at arms.
Our impact had broken their hearts. Swords were thrown down and knights shouted, “I yield! Mercy!”
The men at arms and the mercenaries knew their fate and they fled. King Henry turned to me. “Cleveland, take the Count of Anjou and pursue the vermin!”
“Ay my lord! Count Geoffrey, follow me!”
The men we chased were aided by the fact that there were many obstacles in our way. They dodged and dived between tents and trees. It was a test of our skill as horsemen. Wulfric’s axe swung rhythmically as he hacked and chopped into the backs of men who were desperate to avoid his mighty weapon. For the Count and his men it was an opportunity to test their skill as a conroi. I was the one who was not enjoying this. I took no pleasure in killing men who had merely been obeying orders.
When all those we had chased lay dead we stopped. “Wulfric, John, see what treasure you can find. I doubt that there will be much.”
Count Geoffrey reined in next to me. “What a victory!”
I nodded although I meant the attack on the camp and not the chase of the men at arms was a victory to be celebrated. “Aye we have done well.”