by Griff Hosker
“Probably not. And you will walk into the trap?”
“No, for I am no fool. A flock of sheep and the men who took them will leave a trail and we will find them. I will send a man to fetch you and we will ensure that the murderers do not escape. The sheep are immaterial. They will not run.”
“And if there are more of them than us?”
I laughed. “I can guarantee that there will be, but the only weapon to worry about is the warbow.” I rose.
“Where are you going?”
“The castellan strikes me as a fool. I will speak with his men. As archers, they may well speak with me rather than their master. If I am any judge, they will wish vengeance on the men who slew their friends.”
I slipped from the hall unnoticed. The food would soon arrive. I headed for the small gatehouse, which overlooked the settlement. As I peered down, I saw it was more of a large village than a town. I saw that there were two men on duty. Both were archers and had the broad barrel chest of the typical Welsh archer.
“A pleasant afternoon, Captain?”
“It would be if I had not been dragged sixty miles from my hall to apprehend murderers.”
My blunt words had an obvious effect. One of them, a red-haired and bearded archer, said angrily, “They were fools and liked their drink too much, but they did not deserve to be murdered!”
I nodded. “And tomorrow I will hunt the killers down and catch them.” There was steel in my voice. “But I need a place to look. You are archers and that makes you both clever and observant. You saw the direction they took.”
They looked at each other and nodded. “As clear as the nose on your face, Captain. They headed for Rhandirmwyn. It is six miles up the road.”
“Six miles? Surely they would go further than that! That is almost within spitting distance of here.”
The archer smiled. “Captain, my name is Madog ap Davy and I grew up in that village. My da was a lead miner. He died young and I swore I would do anything rather than go down the mines. That is all that there is in Rhandirmwyn, and since the baron came, no one has mined it.” He shrugged. “He may not know the worth of it. The man who ran the mine for him was close to Lord Wyndod and still lives there. Captain, I have heard of you and your reputation. I believe that this is a trap. They wish to draw you and the baron there. The miners are hard men. How else do you think they were able to murder the men at arms and our friends? There were at least thirty of them, and there are other Welsh warriors who did not flee to Rhufoniog with Lord Wyndod. They will be waiting.”
The other archer had said nothing. “And what is your opinion?” I asked him.
“Madog is right, Captain, and there is a wood through which the road passes. If I wanted to ambush horsemen, then I would do it there.”
“And is there any other way to get to the mine without going through the wood?”
Madog grinned. “The Towy is just eleven paces wide and not very deep. If you are a confident horseman then you could walk up the river and ambush the ambushers. There is a wood and trees for cover.” He frowned. “You are good riders, are you not? That is what we have heard. The men with the green arrows ride to war on horses and not ponies!”
“Aye, we ride, and I fear that the rest of the garrison will be called upon to fight tomorrow.”
“We are ready. We were made to look fools and it was not our fault. We are archers and good ones.”
I nodded. “And soon you will have a new castellan, of that I am certain.”
Madog brightened. “You, Captain?”
I laughed. “I have a manor and I have no desire to be the keeper of any castle.”
I headed back to the hall and saw that the food had arrived.
“You almost missed it, Warbow! Let us hope it is edible.” The baron was already eating.
“I believe I know where they will ambush us!”
Every eye turned to me. “Are you a magician?” The baron was smiling.
I smiled. “No, but I talked to the archers, who are angry about losing their friends. There is a mining village six miles or so from here: Rhandirmwyn.”
The baron looked at John of Reading, who nodded. “And why do I not earn an income from the lead mining?”
“I have enough to do here, Baron Mortimer, without managing a mine. I thought you had another who acted for you there.”
The look on the man’s face told me that it was clearly a lie and the baron knew it, but I saw that he was more concerned with the ambush. “And this ambush, where will it be?”
“The road passes through a wood, a mile or so from the village. There, many miners await; they are the ones who killed your men, and there are also disaffected warriors who served in the castle.”
“Why did you not discover this?”
John of Reading’s silence told everyone that he had not the wit to do so.
I carried on. “I plan on using the river to get beyond their ambush. If you leave with the garrison and the men you brought, just after dawn, then we can spring their ambush prematurely, and my men can take them out while they are distracted by your arrival. You know how good my men are.”
John of Reading could not help himself. “You cannot leave the castle without a garrison! I will stay here with ten chosen men.”
The baron laughed. “You will lead the column of men, Reading, and you had better pray that you have good mail and that Captain Gerald strikes before the Welsh do! We empty the castle and end this!”
We were up in the middle of the night and we slipped from the castle to head to the river. We walked our horses through the village to the river. There might have been spies but there were no other horses in the settlement, and that meant none could get ahead of us.
We entered the water and mounted our horses. Madog had been quite right; it was neither wide nor deep and the trees overhung the narrow stream – we were invisible. John of Reading should have spoken to his own men. From what I had seen of this castellan, he was as inefficient as they came, and I knew that the baron was regretting his choice.
I rode at the fore. We had our bows strung and over our backs. We each had a bag of arrows at our waist and two more bundles on our saddles. The splashing of our hooves in the water was masked by the sound of the mountain river as it tumbled south. There were bats, which swooped over the water, catching moths. In the distance, we heard the sound of an owl and not long before dawn, we heard the squeal of a vixen. Other than that, we appeared to be alone.
The river headed roughly north, and I was aware of the sky becoming lighter in the east. Madog had said that the wood came to within a few hundred paces of the river when it was close to where he thought we might be ambushed. The trouble was, we had no idea where that was as there was a wall of vegetation on both sides. When I deemed we had come far enough, although it was a guess, we left the river and headed in the direction of the road. When we found no open space, then I knew we were at the right place and I dismounted. We tied our horses to trees and began to head up to where we thought was the road.
We heard and smelled the ambushers long before we saw them. They had lit fires for warmth and, although the fires had long died, the smell still lingered. We smelled sweat and we smelled mutton fat.
I held up my hand and we stopped. Baron Mortimer and the bait would not be coming from Llandovery until the sun rose, and it would take them an hour to get to the ambush. That was deliberate as we wanted them to be nervous. They would be expecting the baron and awaiting his attack. Nervous men make mistakes.
I waved my hand to spread us out and we headed up the slope. We had plenty of time and we moved silently. Tom and Martin were at the two extreme ends of the line while the others, the young archers, were closer to me. As soon as I heard Welsh being spoken, then I stopped close to a tree and dropped to one knee. The others copied me. We would now wait for daylight. I knew that this would be the hardest for the ones who had never sent an arrow in anger.
Dawn began to break. Birds sang and the sky behind
us began to grow lighter. I did not move my head but instead flicked my eyes until I saw the Welsh. They were three hundred paces from us, on either side of the road, and that was lucky. Had we advanced any closer, then we might have been spotted. I saw one man leave the camp. He was not a warrior, but he had the broad chest and diminutive stature of a miner. I feared he might walk all the way down to the river, but he merely walked forty paces, dropped his breeks, and the stink told us what he was doing. He appeared to be looking directly at me, but I knew it was an illusion. We were still, and as long as we remained so, we were safe. When he finished, he used some of the large weedy leaves to clean himself and ascended the slope. We heard a cheer as he neared the others.
Now was the time to move and I waved my hand for my men to come a little closer. I risked another one hundred paces. I could smell the fires as they were relit and food prepared. It would be mutton. I held my hand up, and we all stopped and each chose a tree. We would wait for the sign of alarm amongst the ambushers.
Although there were warriors above us, they had been the garrison of Lord Wyndod. They could fight but they had to be told what to do. The miners were used to obeying orders but did not understand about sentries and silence.
We knew when the baron was heading towards the trap, for men began to shout in the camp and they raced to their positions. Of course, we could only see the half who were on our side of the road, but that would be enough. As all eyes were looking down the road, I signalled my men and we moved slowly through the trees until we were within one hundred paces of the ambushers. I saw the variety of weapons, from the archers with the bows to the miners with the hammers and chisels they used to hew the lead from the rock. I drew back and aimed at an archer who was further back than the others. I released, and the arrows struck him hard in the back and pinned him to a tree. He had no time to call out.
Tom, Martin and John had the experience to release when they knew they could hit a target and not alert the others. We had spoken of this when we had tethered our horses. The others would wait for my low whistle. The next three men were silently slain, the range too close for men to survive the war arrows that penetrated the clothes they wore, tearing through flesh, cracking bones and finding vital organs.
It was when I saw the rebel bowmen pull back on bows that I whistled, and then we showed the rebels the difference between one who can draw a bow and one who practises every day. We drew back and released so quickly that it seemed as though a swarm of wasps was around. The Welsh arrows were sent, but few from our side of the road.
When the last two Welsh archers were slain, we switched to the men who posed less danger to men at arms – those armed with hammers, swords and spears. When the first of them was hit, their leader realised the trap had been sprung and he shouted something. By then it was too late for the men on the other side of the road.
Whilst they had been able to send their arrows towards the horsemen, the effect had been thwarted by the shields the men at arms and knights bore on their left arms. Madog and his archers had dismounted, and they would be almost as deadly as we.
The Welsh raced towards us, down the slope and through the trees. It was a mistake, for we were not tired, and the Welsh wore no mail. Few had leather, and the closer that they came to us, the easier it was to hit them, for they were a bigger target. None came closer than twenty paces to us.
By then the battle on the road was over, and the ones who remained alive surrendered. I sent four of my archers for the horses and we advanced up through the woods. Any who were badly wounded were given a merciful death. We had no healers with us.
The Welsh had little we wanted, and so we kept our arrows nocked until we reached the road. I spied Madog and his garrison archers descending from the woods on the other side of the road. Three horses wandered disconsolately along the road. That meant three of our men had been hit. I did not recognise the horses and deduced that they belonged to men from Llandovery.
We had recovered the bodies and begun the pyre by the time that the baron and the others returned from the mine. They had with them eight men. All were bloody and had needed to be subdued. I saw that John Giffard and his men were whole. There was also a wagon.
The baron dismounted and took off his helmet. I saw his sword was still sheathed. He had not needed to use it. “A good plan, Warbow, and it worked, although Reading and two of his men died.”
I knew that it had been deliberate. It would have been impossible to guarantee no casualties, and the baron was ruthless enough to have the castellan and his men at the fore. “Not much treasure, but we took a wagon-load of the lead they had mined. You and your men shall have a share of the proceeds. Now let us get back to Llandovery. This fighting has given me an appetite.”
We rode down the road and I was able to see why Madog had been able to identify the ambush site so readily. The road rose steeply so that men and horses riding along it would be tired, and the trees along the side gave good cover. I would speak to the baron about Madog, for he needed a reward.
It was just after the sun had reached its zenith when we stopped at the castle. Ropes were thrown over the battlements and the miners were dragged kicking and screaming until the last of them became still and they died.
“Tomorrow morning, Giffard, take down the bodies, remove the heads and put them on spikes. That will show the Welsh that the wind has changed and blows now from England!”
Thus, I discovered that Giffard was to be rewarded with the castle. Half of the men we had taken were left with him, and I advised him to make Madog the captain of his archers. Even as we left with the wagonload of lead, I saw that my new friend was making the castle more secure. The Welsh would not take him so easily. It would take treachery and not a force of arms!
Chapter 17
The attack at Llandovery should have been a warning that the Welsh pot of rebellion stew was not cold and still simmered. I think that the baron knew that, for I was elevated on the way home to ride at his side. “I will visit with the king and tell him of this. I know that he has plans for Gascony, but these new castles all need garrisons.”
“What worried me, my lord, was the news that the rebel Wyndod has sought sanctuary with ap Gruffydd. I do not trust him. I met the two brothers and I believe that Llywelyn is more trustworthy.”
The baron nodded. “Lady Maud and I share your opinion. We could not wait to rid ourselves of his presence, but he has his fiefdom now and perhaps that will suffice. But I will keep watch.”
I shook my head. “Lord, I come from the Clwyd; the king could not have given Dafydd ap Gruffydd a more dangerous home. We have new castles at Flint, Rhuddlan and now at Rhuthun, not to mention the one that has been rebuilt at Hawarden, but as you discovered at Llandovery, where are the knights with strong hands to control them? Men like John Giffard are rare.”
“You are right, and I will make that case to the king.”
Once at home I put such military matters from my mind. When the likes of Lord Maredudd had lived close to me, then I might have feared for my home, but since then we had increased the men who could fight and we had strengthened our defences. I entered a hall with a welcome as warm as a fire on a winter’s day.
*
It was the next year when one of the boys watching the sheep raced into the manor. “Captain! Captain! There is a mounted warrior, and he is heading this way!”
There was a small hill around which the road from the south passed. The shepherd had come the short way.
From the way he shouted, one would have thought that it was a horde of wild Welshmen, but I knew that one man meant a visitor. “Thank you, Chad.” I flipped him a farthing. “Here is for your trouble – now back to your sheep.”
I went to the gate and saw the weary warrior. It was Stephen de Frankton, and he led a horse, which was laden with war gear.
Peter of Beverley joined me. “The prodigal son returns, Captain. He still wears the cross of the crusader.”
I nodded. Peter had not been
on a crusade. “A wise move, for it guarantees him shelter at every monastery and nunnery on the way home. If I am any judge, he will discard it soon.”
My former man at arms reined in and dismounted. “Is your offer of a bed still there, Captain Warbow?”
I held out my arm and we clasped. “Of course. And you survived the heat and the Turks?” I waved over two of the younger archers who had been at the butts. “Put these horses in the stable and the war gear in the warrior hall.”
Stephen was not wearing mail beneath his surcoat and I saw that he had the inevitably darkened skin of one who has been in the Holy Land. It would fade.
“You were right in every case, Captain, and the war can never be won, but I am glad that I went, for I feel that I have atoned. I did my duty and slew many Turks, but there were always more, and the men who fight them are led by leaders who spend more time fighting amongst themselves. I have come back a rich man.”
We entered my hall and I saw Hamo’s eyes widen when he saw the cross.
Mary smiled. “Welcome, Stephen; we have missed you and I look forward to your tales when we dine this night. Hamo, come with me. You can fetch your father and his guest wine and food while they talk.”
I was no knight, but I liked the way that the sons of knights were used as servants in their halls and we had begun to do so with Hamo. Now six summers old, he took his duties seriously, for he saw it as a sign that I would soon begin to train him with a bow and wooden sword.
“I was offered the chance to fight for King Edward in Gascony, but I have had enough of those kinds of war. I would have a home.”
“And there is one here for you.”
“I may not stay long, Captain. Seeing Hamo and your daughters reminds me that I have yet to leave my mark on the world. I am the last of my family and I wish the de Frankton name to live on. I have money and I would buy a piece of land.”
“Then when you are settled, we will speak with the baron.”