by Griff Hosker
I took off my helmet as my men began to move amongst the enemy dispatching any who were too badly wounded to survive. I saw that barely twenty-five of us had survived. The three priests and the servants were tending to our wounded but there was no sign of my father’s body and Richard Red Leg. Matthew, Mark and Peter of York must have left the battlefield or, and a cold chill came over me, perhaps they had been caught and butchered. Our defence would have been for nothing and we would have lost irreplaceable warriors without saving my father.
Henry Samuel threw himself from the saddle, “Grandfather?”
His words sent lead into my heart. I had hoped that he had seen Matthew and Mark, “Did you not see him? He was wounded, perhaps mortally, and Mark and Matthew took him to safety.”
“We saw no one. We reached the King but it was the Duke of Brittany who ordered them to ride hard.” He pointed to the next standards which headed in our direction, “See the King comes now with the bulk of the army.” I looked up and saw the King leading the knights of Navarre. They were coming at a steady pace!
I cursed our tardy leader! Had he done as the Duke had done then he might have caught the whole of the Ayyubid army and defeated them. I put that thought from my head. We had to find my father, our squires, Peter of York and Richard Red Leg.
“Fetch our horses! We must find the Earl and Richard! They are lost somewhere!”
There might have been a time those who did not come from the valley of the Tees might have questioned my orders but not now and all went to their horses.
“Cedric, you and the archers escort the priests, our servants and wounded back to Ascalon. We will seek our men. Padraig, find us a couple of spare horses so that we can extend our search if we need to.”
“We could help you, lord.” Cedric’s voice was concerned.
“I have enough to do what is necessary with the men who are here. Those who are hurt need to be tended for they have all fought like lions.” Henry Samuel held Thorn for me as I mounted. We would not be able to ride hard as our horses had been pushed to the limit but we had to search. I turned in the saddle, “Spread out in a long line. Look for any sign of their passing.”
Our squires and Peter were clever. They would know they had to try to do something to stop the bleeding on Richard Red Leg’s wound. As for my father? I knew not if he lived or was dead already. Was I the Earl of Cleveland? I was not ready to be the lord of the Tees. I just wanted to find my father and get him to a healer; he had good mail and a well-made helmet. Although the blows which had incapacitated him had been hard, he had not fallen from the saddle. We found stragglers on the road heading north. They were the ones we had saved by our charge. They were not just the men who had followed the Earl of Fife, there were some men from France. Some had horses and some did not. They had banded together for mutual self-protection. We asked each group if they had seen my father but none had.
One Scottish knight, Sir David of Peebles, said, “I hope your father lives, Sir William, for his charge saved our lives.”
I merely nodded for I was angry. That the Earl of Fife should live and my father die seemed to me to be the greatest of injustices. After we had passed our tenth group of stragglers, I called a halt. “They have not come up this road.” I pointed to the south and east where I knew there was water. “We head back towards the battlefield. They must have stopped sooner rather than later.”
If any thought my order foolish then none spoke up. It soon became obvious that none had passed this way. It was John, my page, whose sharp eyes spotted the anomaly. “My lord, due east, I spy smoke.”
Sir James of Evesham said, “And why should that mean anything?”
Padraig answered for me, “Because, my lord, there are two wounded men. It is many miles to Ascalon and Peter of York is a good man who knows how to tend to wounds. Richard Red Leg had a bad wound and it would need to be tended. Perhaps they stopped to light a fire and examine the wound or it may be that they are too badly wounded to carry on. Whatever the reason, it is worth investigating!”
I waved my men forward. We had to keep a steady pace as much as I might have wished to hurry and discover if this was our men. When we were a mile away it became obvious that it was our men. I recognised the horses. They waved at us and I began to prepare myself for the worst as we neared them. I saw that three men stood, Matthew, Mark and Peter. My father and Richard Red Leg lay covered by their cloaks. I dismounted and looked at Peter of York.
“They both live, my lord, and we have used a heated blade to seal the wounds and stop the bleeding. The wound on the Earl’s leg was not dangerous but Richard Red Leg’s was. He will need a healer. He was awake before we burned his leg. Now he sleeps.”
“And my father?”
“Made neither sound nor movement when we burned the wound and I dared not try to remove the helmet for it is dented badly. The bleeding from his head has stopped.” That chilled my heart for bleeding from a head wound could not be good.
I knelt next to my father and saw that Peter had lifted the visor. Taking off my own helmet and coif I put my ear next to my father’s mouth. He was breathing but it was laboured. I put my mouth to his ear, “Be strong, father. We will do all in our power to aid you. God will not allow such a valiant warrior to perish like this.” I saw the wooden cross with the Whitby jet hanging from his neck. It must have come free when he had been laid down. I unfastened it and put it in my father’s fingers. The Archbishop of York had given it to him. I prayed that God would not let my father die.
We had to get back to Ascalon and the healers who were there. It was getting on towards dark and that might be our salvation for it would be cooler. The danger would be attacks from our enemies. I saw that Peter had found somewhere close to a tiny stream. I took a decision.
“Fill your skins with water. Then water the horses; let them drink deeply for they have a long ride ahead of them. If you have food then eat. Padraig, Peter, Mark and Matthew, rig two litters between the spare horses. When that is done, we will head north. First, we pray!”
All of us knelt and held our swords before us. Each man’s prayers were silent but I know that each of them prayed that the two wounded men before us would survive the journey which was to come.
Padraig and Peter of York finished the first litter and it allowed Mark and Matthew to finish the other, “Lord, have something to drink yourself. It will avail us nothing if you succumb to this heat.”
“You are right, Padraig.” I drank deeply and handed the waterskin to Henry Samuel to refill. “We will need good men at the rear and in the van.”
He nodded, “Then they will be our men. The others have come on in the last month but the battle today has taken much out of them.”
“You are right.” Peter of York had gone back to my father. “How is he, Peter?”
“I wish I knew, lord, for I know of no one who understands what goes on inside a man’s skull.”
I stood, “There is one but he is at Montfort and that might as well be on the other side of the world. We will get nothing done by waiting. Let us lift and secure my father. “
“Better we try Richard first, lord. Then we will see what problems are created.”
“You are right, Peter, and I am not thinking straight.”
“You have much excuse, lord.
Padraig shouted, “Master Henry and Master John, hold the horses. Mark, Peter, come and help us to lift Richard!”
Had we taken the hauberk from Richard it might have been easier but that could have awoken him and I knew that sleep would help the two wounded men to recover more quickly. We managed to put the sergeant on the litter and we learned what not to do. We were even more careful with my father for he had a head wound. When they were secured on the litters, we mounted. Henry Samuel rode one of the spare horses and John the other. They were both the smallest of any of us and they could watch the two men for signs of distress. I rode on one side with Mark while Matthew and Padraig rode on the other. If we were attacked then
it would be up to the knights and the rest of the men at arms to protect us. I would not leave my father’s side until we reached a doctor.
It was a long ride through the night. Others were also heading north from the battlefield. We were not the first to reach the camp at Ascalon. The Earl of Fife was already there. That would have been the moment for him to come to speak with me and thank us for our action. Instead, he just stared at us and then went inside his tent. Cedric and the other wounded were also back in the camp and the three priests left the men they had tended to see to my father. They brought with them some of the healers from the holy orders. They were all Hospitallers and I knew them to be good men. After giving a cursory examination of Richard Red Leg they carefully removed the helmet from my father’s head. I knew it was necessary but I feared that as soon as it was removed his life would end. It did not. They took off the bloody coif and I saw that the white arming cap was almost black with blood. He had bled a great deal and the senior Knight Hospitaller shook his head.
“This is not good, Sir William. He lives and we can bandage his head but none of us has the skill to probe beneath the skull. His leg will heal and we can keep him alive with water, wine and broth but someone with more skill than we have will need to finish the work on Sir Thomas.”
“Is there any?” I knew the answer but I hoped that there would be one who was closer than Montfort.
He shook his head, “The only one is the Teutonic Knight Conrad von Schweistein and he is close to the land of the Turk at Montfort.”
There was but one answer. If I could not take my father there then I would have to fetch the doctor thither.
Chapter 7
We had the two invalids placed in our tent and Padraig and I, along with our squires and pages, slept there. The healers told us that while Richard would recover, he had lost the full use of his left leg. He could ride and fight but he would never be able to fight on foot. He woke in the middle of the morning and I heard Padraig explain to him that he was lucky. There would still be a place for Richard in my father’s castle; no man was ever rejected because of a wound but the decision concerning his future as a warrior would be his. He was silent after Padraig had finished. I was awake and, after checking up on my father and seeing that he was still comfortable, I went outside for men were returning from the south.
The disaster of the battle of Gaza was not as bad as it might have been. That was down to two things; my father’s sacrifice and the Duke of Brittany’s determination to save what was left of the army the Duke of Burgundy had led south. I spoke with the returning knights and discovered that barely one hundred and forty knights had survived. There were many prisoners who would languish in Egyptian captivity. The Duke of Burgundy and Amaury de Montfort were two such prisoners. It also became clear that Ascalon would be abandoned and we would return to Acre. Once I discovered that I hurried back to our camp and woke the others.
“Until my father recovers then I command this conroi. The army is leaving Ascalon. The King will make his way here but we will leave. I intend to vacate this camp tonight. Sir Stephen, I want two wagons procuring for our wounded. When the bulk of the army arrives then wagons will be in great demand; added to that the road will be clogged. I will go and speak with the commander of the camp and explain my reasons.” I did not allow for debate and all went about their business.
The captain of the camp was an old knight who had served the King of Navarre for many years. Raymond de Maine was an old-fashioned soldier and I liked him. “It is good that you ask but you of all people do not need to do so. Your father’s actions might have saved a great number of men. I am sorry that it has come to this for the healers have told me that they can do nothing. I will pray for your father. King Thibaut will return by dawn and then the camp will break. I fear that his plans for a swift end to this crusade will come to nought.”
We left the camp by the north road and that meant we had to pass by the camp of the Earl of Fife. He must have been waiting for us to do so for he came out and said, loudly, “Typical of an Englishman! He runs when danger draws close.”
Padraig’s hand went to his sword but I said, “Hold. There will be a time for swords but it is not yet.” I turned to the Scot. “You have neither honour nor nobility. If you had either you would have begged forgiveness for the pain you caused my people. My father lies at death’s door because he came to your aid.”
“I did not ask him and I have done nothing to be forgiven for. You took our land! I will take it back one day!”
Sir David of Peebles was close by and he suddenly burst out, “I will follow you no longer, Malcolm of Fife, for Sir William is right you have no honour. I will take my men back to Scotland to seek another lord who is worthy. You are not.”
I saw the effect of the Scotsman’s words. Other Scottish knights could not disguise the disgust they felt for the Earl. A chorus of them added their voices to David of Peebles.
I leaned from my saddle, “When you reach Acre, Earl, and my father has received attention then you and I will decide this matter by force of arms. You choose the weapons. If you do not relish the prospect then scuttle back to Fife!”
His face told me that he was afraid of such combat and he turned on his heel and went back into his tent. My men all cheered for they knew that this was a victory.
It was a long and slow journey back to Acre. I did not wish a rough journey and we stopped often to rest the horses and for our three healers to attend to the wounded. My father remained in what the priests called God’s sleep but they gave him water and broth. It took a long time to do both. We reached Acre just after the first of the wounded men who had come from the battle. Only my father needed the attention of the Hospitallers. Mark, John and Henry Samuel became his guards.
I told the castellan of my plan to ride to Montfort. He counselled against such an action. “We have heard that the emir whose caravan you raided has been to Damascus to demand that the truce be ended. The whole of the border is in turmoil. It will be a most dangerous journey.”
“Nonetheless I must go but I will take only my men at arms and archers. The rest I leave here under the command of Sir Stephen of Malton.”
That meant I would only have three men at arms and six archers. Along with Matthew that would be a very small number to go through what was now considered the front line of the war against the Muslim. I chose Flame as my horse but had Thorn as a back-up. I waited only until the Duke of Brittany returned. I needed him to know what I was about and to ask him to keep an eye on the Earl of Fife.
The Duke was genuinely upset about the wound to my father. I saw in his eyes that he thought my father would die. “He was a brave man and the crusade will miss his sage advice.”
“He is not dead, my lord, and I will bring a healer who can save his life. We are in the Holy Land and God’s presence is everywhere. You are right, my father is a good man and with the help of Conrad von Schweistein and Almighty God, he will be saved and we will go home.”
“Then I will watch over him.”
“And I urge you to prevent the Earl of Fife from doing him or the men I leave here harm.”
He looked shocked at the vehemence of my words and the message I gave, “Surely, after having his men and his own life saved the Earl will be eternally grateful to your father.”
I shook my head, “No, lord, for this a feud which has its origins in the borders. When I return, I shall end it here on the field of combat.”
“The King will not allow it.”
“The King’s vacillation led to my father’s wound. He is no king of mine and I do not obey his commands. This is not Navarre!”
“You tread a dangerous road, Sir William!”
I laughed, “And that has ever been the way of my family.”
We left in the late afternoon and endured a couple of hours of heat before the relative cool of the evening made the next few miles easier. We found a village which had been settled by the families of the first crusaders. They lived a p
erilous existence close to the fortress of Acre and Montfort. They were the children of men who had married local women. We paid for our beds and food. I did not wish to risk the mountain road to Montfort at night and so we broke that journey up over two days. As the crow flies the distance was not a great one but the road was not the best and the heat of the day exhausted horses. Despite the fact that time was slipping away I knew the dangers of not showing the land respect.
We spied Montfort for a good hour before we reached it. It was a spur castle on the top of the ridge and I could see why it had been chosen as a castle site. I had no doubt that we had been seen before we saw the castle. It was not a place where an enemy could approach unseen. We must have been recognised for the gates were opened to admit us and I was taken directly to Burchard. “What is amiss, Sir William? Your presence here, without your father, does not bode well.”
I shook my head, “No, Master, for there has been a disaster.” I told him of the battle and my father’s wound.
He shook his head, “Sergeant, go and fetch Brother von Schweistein.” The sergeant left us and the Commander shook his head, “That is the trouble with some of the lords from France. They see this land as a land of plunder. I fear this crusade is doomed.” I nodded. He added, quietly, “You know that as good as Conrad is, he may not be able to save your father?”
“I do but my father is strong and he is a fighter. He will not give in to this.”
“It may be God’s will.”
Shaking my head, I said, “I cannot believe that for this is my father’s third crusade. God will watch over him, surely.” His words worried me and I was not sure if I was right. Perhaps God would take him. Refreshments were brought but I paid little attention to them. I was waiting for the doctor.