by Griff Hosker
I was an emissary and Mary had insisted that I rode in my second-best clothes, for I was acting for the king. They were hidden beneath the good riding cloak and my brigandine. I had no livery as such, but my men and I all liked to wear green. It was practical and gave us some protection from observation in our normal environment, the woods. The difference between my clothes and my men’s was that theirs were crude; I had better quality garments. I even owned one set that had been made in Acre. It was manufactured from the finest and most delicate of material. I confess that I had only worn it twice. Once when we had dined with King Edward and Queen Eleanor on the night before we parted in Sicily and then on my wedding day. I was even wearing a hat. The time of year dictated that it was a beaver skin hat to keep my head warm. A hat was a sign of my status.
By the time dawn broke, we were well inside Wales. The travellers on the road had stopped appearing when we neared the border. The Welsh used their closer markets.
We knew we were in Wales when the surface of the road deteriorated. Even the lesser roads in England were well made with cobbles and ditches. The ones in Wales were serviceable, but carts and wagons would suffer damage when they used them. The exceptions were the roads in the north of Wales, for they had been built by the Romans.
Rhayader was the largest place we had seen on our journey thus far and had been well built where the road rose towards the mountains. There was a castle, but it was more like a fortified manor house and, as we approached, I saw archers keeping watch from the top. We had been seen and, whilst we had no weapons in our hands, we were strangers, and they would be wary.
We were still four hundred paces from them when I turned to Stephen and said, “No matter what your feelings towards the Welsh, I command here.”
He smiled. “Do not worry, Captain; if these plot against Llywelyn, then their lives are as safe as any man in Wales!”
We reined in and a man, a steward by his livery and his dress, emerged. “How can we help you, stranger? We are off the beaten track here. Do you seek refreshment?”
He spoke in English and that told me much.
“I am Captain Gerald Warbow, Lord Edward’s archer, and I come here at the behest of the new King of England.”
A voice from within said something and David said, quietly, “We are to be admitted.”
The steward said, “If you would leave your men and horses here, I will admit you.”
I shook my head. “David the Welshman will come with me.” My tone suggested that I would brook no argument and he nodded. “Stephen, keep watch!” He would not only keep an eye on the horses but ascertain any risk or danger.
“Yes, Captain!”
The entrance was not wide and reflected the fact that the house was fortified. Only one man at a time could enter, and I saw that there was a second door inside what looked to be an entrance chamber. The interior was gloomy, and our passage was illuminated by a lighted brand through a windowless corridor to a larger, better-lit room. An attacker could be held up in the corridor by one to two men. I noted the arrangement and wondered how I might incorporate the same into my own home.
Inside the room, there were a dozen people. Two of them were women and one was patently a servant. The two best-dressed men were seated at a table while the rest stood. All bore swords.
“I am Lord Gruffydd ap Gwenwynwyn and that is my wife, Lady Hawise.”
My first impressions were later confirmed. Lady Hawise was a lovely lady and a devoted mother. Her eyes, when she spoke of her son, showed care and distress at his abduction.
Lord Gruffydd ap Gwenwynwyn appeared to me to be slow-witted. I had learned that was not unusual amongst the nobility, but perhaps my view was jaundiced by normally associating with quick thinking archers! His speech implied his dullness of wits, but it was his movements which confirmed it. He was a big man, and I guessed that in combat that would give him a physical advantage but, as we spoke, I realised that he could not have devised a plot to take the prince’s crown.
“I am Captain Gerald Warbow and King Edward has sent me here to offer you and your family sanctuary in England. He knows of the abduction of your son.”
He said nothing but Lady Hawise said, bitterly, “He was not abducted, Captain Warbow, but taken as hostage by Prince Llywelyn.” She threw a hateful glare at the two men seated at the other end of the table.
Lord Gruffydd ap Gwenwynwyn looked at the man next to him. He was a little younger than Gruffydd ap Gwenwynwyn and I did not like him from the first glance. His eyes reminded me of Sir Henry, who had killed my father and I had subsequently slain.
When he spoke it only added to the antipathy I immediately felt. “Out of deference to you, we will speak your language. I am Lord Dafydd ap Gruffydd, the brother of Llywelyn. I too, it seems, have incurred the wrath of my brother, who persists in the belief that others plot to take his pathetic little crown! Nothing could be further from the truth. My brother is deluded, and I fear for his sanity.”
In that single sentence, I saw who the real plotter was. Gruffydd ap Gwenwynwyn was merely a figurehead. I now had a dilemma. Fortunately, I had served Lord Edward and knew his mind. He would happily offer sanctuary to the brother of the prince, for that way he could use him as a puppet.
“And I am sure that King Edward would offer another so persecuted sanctuary, my lord.”
The two men smiled but I saw the hand of Lady Hawise go to her mouth. If they came to England, then Prince Llywelyn might execute her son. She said nothing.
“You have the authority to make such an offer?” Dafydd’s silkily smooth voice made me want to say no, but I nodded.
“Then we will accept.” There was no discussion and that confirmed who the leader was. His eyes narrowed. “This sanctuary, it is not to be the Tower of London, is it?”
I shook my head. “Wigmore or Shrewsbury are both close to the Welsh border and it is your choice. I will escort you to Wigmore Castle and you can tell my lord, Baron Mortimer, your decision.”
“Good, we—”
“I will not leave without my son!” Lady Hawise’s voice contrasted with the Welshman’s. It was firm and assertive. She would brook no argument.
“My love, be reasonable!” The ponderous voice of Gruffydd ap Gwenwynwyn would have made me do the opposite of whatever he said.
“Do not ‘my love’ me! You have been led by the nose by this man and our son paid the price, and now you would leave him to suffer the vengeance of the man his brother tried to kill.”
Dafydd ap Gruffydd coloured and held up a hand. “Lady Hawise, there are strangers!”
Her eyes flashed. “I care not. I have just met this Englishman and already I would trust him more than either of you.” She turned to me. “Captain Warbow, do you have children?”
“My wife is due to give birth in December.”
She smiled. “And would you desert your child and leave him to be murdered?”
“No, my lady.”
She turned to her husband and his master. Her words were icy. “You two may slink off to England but I shall stay here, and I will go to plead for the life of my son. I have knowledge I can trade!”
There was a real threat to her words, and I saw the panic in the eyes and face of Dafydd ap Gruffydd. “You would not do that!” He turned to Lord Gruffydd. “She is your wife, Gruffydd, command her!”
He shook his head sadly. “She will not listen. We must try to rescue Owain.”
Lady Hawise beamed. “You have a backbone after all!”
Dafydd ap Gruffydd snarled, “Not from where I am sitting!”
It was my time to speak. “My lords, I have to be back home in five days. Either you come with me in the next two days or seek your own way to England.”
“Do not be hasty, Captain. Your king would wish you to escort us. Lord Gruffydd’s son is held just twenty miles from here. If an attempt to rescue the youth was made tomorrow morning, then we could leave here the day after. I will send Caradog, the captain of my guards, to lead
the rescue attempt.” I saw a huge, black-bearded warrior, with a leather brigandine and a hand-and-a-half sword, nod. Then Dafydd turned to me. “Surely you can wait a day or two?”
I nodded. I had resigned myself to two days sitting around in the hall when Lady Hawise, her voice cold and commanding, said, “You think me a fool, Dafydd ap Gruffydd? Do you think that I do not know what you plan is? My husband may be a dullard, but I am not. Your man will slay my son and put the blame on your brother. You will garner support from the people of Wales and the cost will be my son’s life.”
I was watching the face of the would-be Welsh prince and I saw the truth of her words. King Edward was getting into bed with a bag of vipers.
Lord Gruffydd was slower on the uptake or perhaps he genuinely believed Dafydd’s words. “My love, Captain Caradog is a good warrior, and he shall bring home our son.”
It was as though her husband had not spoken and she turned to me. “Captain Gerald, I have just met you, but your words and eyes bespeak a man who has truth and honour.” She suddenly turned to David the Welshman and spoke a torrent of Welsh, none of which I understood. He nodded and answered her. She smiled and addressed me once more. “Your Welshman here confirms my thoughts. You are well respected. I beg you to go with these men and rescue my son. If you and your men are with the party, then I believe that there is a chance he may be rescued. Without you, he is a dead man.”
I was aware that all eyes were on me. I did not want this attention. I had been ordered to come to Wales, and what had seemed a slightly dangerous but minor excursion now threatened not only my life as well as Owain ap Gruffydd’s, but also the lives of my men. I glanced briefly at David who smiled and nodded. I thought of Mary, not as my wife but as a mother. If my unborn child was ever in danger then she, too, would beg another for help. I nodded. “Reluctantly, I will agree, but know that I am less than happy about this.” I also knew that King Edward would like another ally.
The scowl which passed across the face of Dafydd, brother of Llywelyn, told me that I had upset his plans. However, he quickly mastered his emotions and smiled. “Thank you, Captain Gerald; your assistance is unnecessary but shows that King Edward chose a good man.”
As we went to tell our men, David said quietly, “I would not trust that Caradog.”
I nodded. “And I do not. Find out all that you can about this place we go to rescue the boy. Do you not think it strange that his father does not go with us?”
“I did wonder, Captain, but I can see that he follows his leader blindly. I believe that Lady Hawise is right. If we were not there, then the boy’s life might be forfeit.”
We told my men, and none appeared to be upset at the prospect of rescuing a Welsh prisoner. Stephen nodded after he had heard the frank explanation of what had been said and what we had to do. “What you have told me confirms all that I had heard on my travels. The brothers do not get on and each seeks to undermine the other. King Edward has chosen a wise course of action. He can win Wales without losing too many men.”
There was more to my new man at arms than met the eye. He was highly perceptive.
We discovered that the youth was held at Caersws, a small town eighteen miles to the north of us at a crossing of the Severn. There had been a Roman fort there, but the stone had been robbed to make the small stone hall where Owain was being held.
I spoke with Captain Caradog to discover what sort of opposition we might meet. I did so while Lady Hawise stood to listen. The cunning captain was forced to speak the truth, for Lady Hawise knew the place well.
“They have a garrison of no more than twenty men, Captain Gerald.”
“Will there be a knight or lord in command?”
He nodded. “Cynfyn ap Meurig is the lord there. He is a young knight and seeks to win favour with Prince Llywelyn.”
“This garrison of twenty men; how are they made up?”
“There are six men at arms and the rest are archers.” His precise knowledge and answers told me that they could have attempted to rescue Owain any time they chose, and it begged the question of why they had not.
“What was your plan, Captain, before I was invited to join you?”
He gave me a wry smile. “I have just ten men and my plan was to try to rescue him at night. It would have been tricky, for if they have any sense, they will bar their doors at night and, in the dark, it might have been easy for us to be trapped. Now that you are coming with us, what do you suggest?”
I would not risk the night, for in the darkness it would be too easy for a knife to end the youth’s life, and I agreed with Lady Hawise that the opponents of Prince Llywelyn would use that to raise a rebellion. Ironically, if we succeeded then King Edward might disapprove of my actions, for he wished to ferment rebellion.
“You may be right, Captain Caradog; daylight might be better. My men and I are unknown to this Cynfyn, and if it is daylight, then the guards may well be more relaxed. I would suggest that we ride in to offer our services to this Cynfyn and, while we fix their attention, then you and your men can attack them unawares.”
Lady Hawise put her hand on my arm. “My son, Captain!”
I smiled. “Do not worry, Lady Hawise; if I see your son outside of the building, then we will protect him and, if he is within, then when the attack begins I will enter to ensure that he is safe.” I held her eyes. “I have done this before, and you should know that in the Holy Land I was charged with protecting Lord Edward and Lady Eleanor. If I say that your son will be protected,” I looked to Captain Caradog, “then he will be. You have my word.”
She smiled. “And I believe you!”
*
We left before dawn and there were eighteen of us. We had a spare horse for Owain. My men and I had been given accommodation in the stables and that suited us, for it was warm and we could speak.
My plan was based on the fact that we would have to rescue Owain ourselves and we would have minimal help from Captain Caradog. That was where our preparations in Yarpole came to the fore. My men were good with a bow and a sword. Also, we were well protected by our brigandines. Perhaps our most important asset was that apart from Stephen de Frankton, we had all fought together many times. We each knew how the others would react. With our plans in place, we slept as best we could before we rode together the next day.
The road we took twisted and turned over rough and rocky ground. The nature of the land meant that it was hard to see too far ahead. When we were just three miles from Caersws, Captain Caradog and his men left us.
Before they parted, I said quietly, “Captain Caradog, you do not know me and so I shall give you a warning. If we are betrayed, then there is nowhere you can hide from me. I am a hard man to kill and the men I lead are all better warriors than you. If you do not attack, then expect me to come for you.”
His eyes flickered and he gave me a false smile. “You misjudge me, Captain. Lady Hawise is wrong; I would do nothing to harm her son and we will attack.”
David the Welshman said something in Welsh and Captain Caradog flushed and then jerked his reins to lead his men away.
“What did you say, David?”
“I just told him the truth, Captain. I said that I would not wish Captain Warbow on my trail, for I would be a dead man walking.”
I nodded and we headed down the road. It dipped and fell closer to Caersws and the river. I saw the bridge and the stone hall. None of us had weapons in our hands but we could reach our swords quickly. The fact that our bows were in their cases would allay their fears, for I knew that few archers knew how to use a sword well. My men were the exception. Our paucity of numbers would also make them relax their vigilance.
As we drew closer to the hall, I saw men appear on the crenulated roof and I was aware of others lurking, with nocked bows, at the sides of the hall. It was what I had expected, and I smiled. A smile often disarmed an opponent.
There were two men at arms lounging by the door. There was a gate and a low wall around the property, but ne
ither were guarded. I knew that at night-time they would be locked, manned and patrolled.
I reined in just inside the gates and dismounted. My men did the same. I had counted ten men already. According to our information, there were twenty men. Some must be the night guards and they would be indoors, resting.
I approached the two men and deliberately spoke in English. “I understand that there is a Lord Cynfyn who lives here, and he might be interested in hiring warriors.”
The man who spoke was surly, but he spoke English. “We have all the men we want and do not need some poxy Englishman who does not know one end of his bow from the other.”
“Begone!” the other man said.
I nodded. “Then you are Lord Cynfyn?”
“No!”
“Should you not at least ask him? After all, he may well want to know what information is in our heads. We served with King Edward on his crusades.” All the time I was talking, buying time, I was just waiting for Captain Caradog to begin his attack. We needed the guards and sentries to be looking at us and not their unknown assailants. Stephen and I would rush the men at the door when the attack happened.
Just then the door opened and a mailed warrior stepped out. He wore spurs and I knew that he had to be Lord Cynfyn. He looked suspiciously at me. “From the colour of your skin, you have been on a crusade, but you are a fool, Englishman, for I serve Prince Llywelyn and—”
He got no further, for there were cries from above and two of the sentries pitched to the ground at our feet. It is a natural reaction to look upwards. My men and I did not. Martin knew to wait with the horses. I knew that he would be drawing his bow from its case and stringing it. I was drawing my own sword and had stepped so close to Lord Cynfyn that we were almost nose to nose, and I punched him hard in the face with my sword.
Stephen and David, backed by Tom, had eliminated the two sentries and I stepped into the gloom of the hall. It was fortunate that I had been in a similar hall or I might have been skewered. One of the guards from within ran at me with a spear. Flattening myself against the wall, I grabbed the spear behind the head and then rammed my sword up under his chin and into his skull. I pushed his body from me and ran towards the doorway illuminated by the glow from the fire within. Behind me, David the Welshman began to shout in Welsh. I knew that he was telling Owain that help was to hand.