Targets of Treachery : A gripping, action-packed historical epic (Lord Edward's Archer series Book 4)

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Targets of Treachery : A gripping, action-packed historical epic (Lord Edward's Archer series Book 4) Page 14

by Griff Hosker


  Leaving Stephen in command of the camp the next day, I took my archers and ten of the men of Cheshire. I took my Mongol bow, for I now had more arrows and could afford to use them.

  For once it was I who knew the land, and I took us not along the roads to reach Llywelyn’s camp, for that was a journey of twenty-two miles. Instead, I took us over first the misnamed Halkyn Mountains and then over the much more desolate Clwydan Mountains. The Halkyn “Mountains” were a patch of lumps and bumps, which had more sheep than people, and there were few of either! The Clwydan Mountains were higher and, as I had recalled, empty. However, they afforded a good view of the Clwyd Valley. I led us confidently through the only two settlements on our route, the half a dozen mean homes of Rhosesmor and the tiny village of Rhydymwyn. Neither had a lord, and we were through both of them less than an hour after leaving the campsite.

  David pointed up to the wooded slopes of the mountains that rose ahead of us. Compared with the mountains of Snowdon they were no more than a line of pimples, but they rose high enough to be an obstacle. “Captain, is there a way through there? Surely the road would be faster?”

  I shook my head. “I spent my childhood exploring these hills. I hunted with my father here. It looks like a formidable obstacle, but it is not, and there are hunters’ trails that cross it. We are heading for an old hill fort. There are many of them, but Moel Arthur gives a good view along the whole valley. There we will rest the horses after the climb and see if there are Welsh warriors in the valley.”

  It was strange to be riding in this land. My circumstances had changed. When I served as a young archer, I had, more often than not, travelled on foot. It was only when we had left the valley that I had ridden, and then either a pony or a poor sumpter. Eleanor afforded me a good view. I was still vigilant, but I doubted that any of Prince Llywelyn’s men would think to guard these paths.

  It was a steep climb but a short one, and when we emerged from the trees on the lower slopes, the air and the breeze cooled us and our horses. As we wound our way around to the hill fort, which had been there since before the Romans, I became warier. The fort had been designed to shelter those in the valley when invaders came. The side from which we approached must have been deemed the safer side, for it was sheltered from potential prying eyes in the valley.

  I dismounted a hundred paces from one of the entrances and we walked our horses into the centre of the fort. It was a typical hill fort. There were ramparts and ditches and, over the years, they had softened. It was not the defensive stronghold it had once been.

  I dropped Eleanor’s reins to let her graze. There were puddles that she could drink from. I left my bow on the saddle and bellied up to the largest rampart, which faced south-west. There were higher peaks but this one hid me from view. I was not exposed on the skyline. I could see Rhuthun clearly and I scanned it to get my bearings. David joined me. I saw that in Rhuthun, they too had men digging on the slightly higher piece of ground to the south of the town and the river. There were few men, and it would take some time to build. Compared with the efforts the Earl of Warwick was making, it was more like a rabbit scrape than a place to defend.

  “To me, David, it looks as though their camp is slightly smaller than ours.”

  He studied it. “Aye, Captain, and I cannot see the standard of Prince Llywelyn!”

  “You have good eyes.”

  “I just remember the building from when we passed through, Captain, and it is without a standard.”

  We could have ridden into the small town to scout out closer but there was no point. If Llywelyn was not there, then who would order a war to begin? I scanned the roads around the town but could see no movement. The Welsh warriors were in their camps.

  It begged the question where Prince Llywelyn was, but my task was to protect the work so that by the time the Welsh realised what we were doing, the Earl of Warwick would be able to defend his workers from the safety of partly built secure walls. We had lost Deganwy while it had been under construction because it could not be resupplied. Chester was close enough that even if Flint was cut off, then supplies could be sent by river. King Edward would not repeat the mistakes of his father who built a fort too far!

  We reached the building site in the early afternoon. Already the Earl of Warwick had his labourers digging the line of the walls, keep and towers. Others were further away and digging the lines of the curtain wall. While this castle would not be a huge one like Windsor, it would have concentric lines of defence. King Edward had learned from his crusade. He had seen the crusader castles and knew how to build.

  I saw not only the soldiers whom William de Beauchamp had brought to protect his workings but also the workers themselves, who trudged along the road from Chester. It was a trickle at the moment but soon there would be hundreds. There were mortar makers, mortar carriers, sand throwers, water carriers, hodmen, barrowmen, carpenters, diggers and watchmen, not to mention the elite: the stonemasons.

  I reported directly to the earl. As I spoke with him, I got the impression that he would be spending little time at the works and would base himself in Chester. I did not blame him. On a fast horse, he could be at the site in just over an hour and so long as his subordinates got on with their work, then all would be well.

  “Is there danger?”

  “The Welsh are busy building a castle at Rhuthun, my lord, and many of their men have departed. As I do not think the prince is there, then I assume that his knights will be with him. My men and I are employed for another thirty-seven days. I assume that the archers of Cheshire have a similar contract.” He nodded. “Then that gives us another thirty-odd days to secure the land around here and discourage the Welsh from interfering with your works.”

  “I would that you were here for the winter, Warbow.”

  “I know, my lord, but there will be little point. The Clwydan mountains and beyond become impassable with snow during the winter or if there is no snow, then they are slippery, icy death traps. No one will be heading here until spring.” I smiled. “King Edward pointed out that my men owed him the service and we shall discharge that.” I waved a hand. “The expense of this is exorbitant enough without the king’s treasure wasting money on archers who will sit on their backsides. We will take the fourpence a day.”

  “Fourpence? I thought the rate for archers was three pence a day?”

  “King Edward views my men as the equal of the crossbowmen, and as they are paid fourpence a day, then we earn that rate too.”

  He smiled. “You know your own worth then, Warbow?”

  “I believe so, and I do not think much of crossbows. We shall see.”

  “You have your own camp. Make sure you report to me at least once a week while you are here. You and your men have a nose for trouble, and I would snuff it out before it becomes an inferno!”

  Matthew of Tarporley came over when the earl went to ensure that the pegs for the foundations of the donjon were correctly positioned. The rest of the castle would be based upon their position.

  “Well, Captain Warbow? Are we here for the winter?”

  “I am contracted for forty days and we will leave at the end of that time, but I am sure that if your men wished for pay until spring, then the Earl of Warwick would compensate.”

  “But after forty days I may decide we head home. There are only so many fish my men can eat.”

  I gestured behind me with my thumb. “That is Wales, and now that war has been declared we can hunt and raid there at will. My men will eat game!”

  Over his shoulder, I saw that the foundations for the curtain wall were being dug. It was a scratch at the moment but by the time I returned, next year, then there would be mortared stones which might be as high as a child’s leg. Such would be the slow progress we would make. The castle might take two or three years to build.

  “And what do we do apart from hunt?”

  Some sand for the mortar had been delivered and I flattened a patch of it. “Here is the Dee.” I drew a line. “H
ere is Chester and here are we.” I drew another circle. “These are the Clwydan Mountains, and they are passable. My men and I will cover those. I need you and your archers to divide into two groups. One will head down to the coast at Dyserth and watch for incursions coming from that direction. The other half should invest Mold and watch the road from Rhuthun. I have fought the Welsh before, and they will send scouts down the road to test our strength. When they do that, we can prepare a welcome for them. It may be that they do nothing, in which case this will be the easiest money I have ever earned.”

  While I knew that our task was the harder of the three, I was happy for us to do it. We left before dawn and were at the hill fort as the sun rose. The Welsh workers were not as hard-working as ours and it was the third hour of the day before work began. Some riders left the workings, but they were on ponies and there were just four of them. They headed along the valley to Dyserth. There they would find archers.

  “Do we follow them, Captain?”

  “No, John. Even if they evade the Cheshire men and reach Flint, there are too few for mischief. However, we will wait here until they return.”

  It was not long after noon when four ponies returned. There were just three riders. Our sentries at Dyserth had done their job.

  We headed back to Flint and the news was confirmed; the sentries had killed one of the Welsh scouts.

  Matthew said, “Do we prepare to meet them at Dyserth, then, Captain?”

  Shaking my head, I said, “I think not. First, they will send either more men or seek an unguarded route. Our vigilance will reward us.”

  The next day we saw no riders heading to Dyserth, but we did see six men on ponies heading towards the hill fort and the pass. They would be in for a shock. I was surprised that they had not tried the path first as I knew of it because I grew up in the area, and there must have been Welshmen who knew of its existence.

  We did not have to move as the path passed beneath the ramparts and we nocked arrows and waited. Half of my men were behind the ramparts on the north. Tom and Martin were to the south of the path and I waited with Richard, Robin, son of Richard, and Jack on the path but beyond the eye line of any riders ascending. By the time they saw us, they would be surrounded.

  We did not draw our bows but stood and waited. As the first of the Welshmen crested the rise just twenty paces from us, they saw us and reined in. I pulled back on my bowstring, as did the others. A pulled bow could not be held for long.

  David the Welshman shouted something and the two men we could see turned to flee. I guessed that David had given them a command, and four arrows flew to slam into the two men. At that range, we could have almost picked our targets and I had chosen the right shoulder.

  The four arrows knocked them to the ground, and I heard the thrum of another bow and then a voice shout, “We surrender!”

  When we reached the top of the trail, we saw that three of the six were dead or dying but the other three had their arms in the air.

  “What do we do with them, Captain?”

  I could see by their fearful faces that the three men thought they were going to be executed, but that was not my way. “Take their weapons and their ponies; send them back to whoever commands them.”

  “Should we not ask them questions, Captain?”

  I turned to Robin, son of Richard. “And what do you think these three know? It matters not who is in command, save that it is not Llywelyn.”

  David spoke to them and they answered. He then turned to me. “They asked if we will bury the bodies of their dead?”

  “Tell them that they can either bury the bodies or take them back to Rhuthun. It is their choice.”

  They spoke amongst themselves and then, hoisting the three bodies over their shoulders, headed back down the trail. Would they try the Mold road the next day?

  I dismissed them from my thoughts immediately. My men took their weapons. None were particularly good, but we had young boys who might need them back at Yarpole. We waited until we saw the men on the road to Rhuthun at the bottom of the valley before we mounted up and headed for the workings.

  Matthew of Tarporley had a wounded man with them. They had found trouble. The last Welsh patrol, from Dyserth, had arrived unharmed. “We saw nothing, Captain, except for what looked like a Welsh ship off the river. The men on patrol saw our horses and they turned back.”

  Matthew of Tarporley said, “We were caught out. I had my men watching the road, but a second party flanked us. We sent them packing but Egbert was wounded.”

  “The road has cover and the other two places they could use are bare and exposed. It was my fault.”

  It was not. Matthew should have realised the danger, but he was unused to such land as the road between Rhuthun and Chester. There were no rolling fields and hedgerows. Here it was a twisting road, which rose and fell. You had to be more cunning than an enemy.

  “Tomorrow we send just four men to each of the other two vantage points and we will take the rest of the archers and Stephen de Frankton and head for Mold, in case they try a reconnaissance in force,” I said.

  “A man at arms?”

  “A very experienced man at arms. He may be able to tell us more about the Welsh formation. I will head, tomorrow afternoon, to Chester, to report to the Earl of Warwick.”

  That night I kept watch with Stephen. We had a comfortable camp, for we had hide tents made from cattle captured the previous year from the Welsh. It meant we were not only dry but, as the autumn nights became chillier, we were not as cold. We ate well as we all passed through woods and were able to take animals and birds, which were fed into the stews we made. We had been well supplied with beer and ale and I had endured worse campaigns.

  “Well, Stephen, what do you think?”

  “I think that I shall go mad if I have to stay in camp one more day and hear builders complain about everything!” I laughed. “But I think you have the reading of this right. They lost men at Moel Arthur and their ship saw that we had a sizeable force at Dyserth. If they are to find out what we are doing, then they have to try the Mold road. From what you told me, Captain, Mold is regarded as Welsh. If Prince Llywelyn felt comfortable meeting the king there, then they must consider it safe. If we hold the road then they have lost part of Wales.”

  “After we have seen them on the morrow, or not, as the case might be, then I will visit with the earl. If the Welsh are flexing their muscles, then we may need knights and men at arms rather than just archers.”

  “From what you have told me, Captain, it is a local lord at Rhuthun. When Llywelyn returns, then they may try something.”

  We had more than a hundred archers when we left the next morning before the sun was up. We were able to take more than I had expected, for we had taken six ponies, and I took it upon myself to commandeer some of the draught animals from the wagons.

  I sent Matthew and forty archers to the wood where he had been ambushed. I rode with the rest to Mold. I intended to ride along the Rhuthun road and also to let the villagers of Mold know our numbers. It was why I had taken more horses. They might have counted how many men we sent previously. While they had not seen the building at Flint, for we had a line of spearmen preventing any from travelling along the road, they must have known that we were doing something.

  We reached Mold at dawn and clattered noisily through the cobbled road that ran between the houses. Heads appeared and then quickly vanished when they saw who we were. It took some time for us to pass and I knew we would be reported. After it was dark someone would hurry along to Rhuthun and speak of archers mounted on horses. It identified us as English.

  One of Matthew’s riders met us a mile north of the small town. “Captain, there are men on horses heading down the road.”

  “Horses or ponies?”

  “Mainly ponies, Captain, but there are some horses with them.

  I sighed, for this was always the problem when dealing with men you did not know. My men would have made a more accurate report. “How ma
ny?”

  “We did not count them.”

  I snapped, “I shall have to ask Captain Matthew to send me a scout next time who was not dropped on his head as a baby!” I turned in the saddle. “David the Welshman, choose fifteen archers and head along the western side of the wood, which flanks the road. Captain Matthew should be to the east.”

  “Aye, Captain!”

  I turned to the scout. “You ride back to Captain Matthew and tell him that we are heading for him. If he can engage the Welsh, then he should do so. Can you do that?”

  I think I had terrified him. It was not his fault; the Cheshire man should have chosen a better messenger. “Yes, Captain!” He dug his heels in his horse and fled to the east to find his captain.

  Stephen turned to me. “If there are horses and ponies, then they might have men at arms. These trees mean that your men do not have the range.”

  “I know.” I slipped my bow from its case. “String your bows and have an arrow ready. Horse holders, be ready!”

  Once again, I knew how my men would react but not the Cheshire men. It might well be that in the coming fight I could only rely on my men. It was not a satisfactory situation.

  The sun was a weak one and although it lightened the road, I could see that the undergrowth and the trees, which had yet to shed their leaves, made shadows and provided places where men could wait. Before I could even order my men to dismount and prepare to advance on foot, I heard fighting from ahead. I had my Mongol bow in my hand and, nocking an arrow, I dug my heels into Eleanor’s flanks and took off down the road. There were cries and shouts as well as the clash of metal.

  The twisting road and the gloom meant that we came upon the fight suddenly. It was fewer than forty paces from us. I took in that there were mailed men on horses, but I saw no spurs on the leading men and that meant they were not knights. This was a strong force; even as I nocked and released an arrow into the head of the archer who was aiming into the woods to my left, I realised that we were evenly matched in terms of numbers.

 

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