by Griff Hosker
Before I could say more his eyes spied my breeks, which were in Lord’s Edward’s livery. “These are royalist dogs! Stop them!”
I dug my heels into Eleanor as I swung my sword up at the sergeant. He was the leader and the best warrior. His guard had, quite literally, been down, and he was slow to raise his sword. The tip of my sword swept up his chest. His own sword rose, but that merely served to accelerate my blade. I kept an edge sharp enough to shave with, and my strike and his sword drove the sword up to bite into his jaw. He might have been a veteran but the blow was a wicked one, and he fell backwards. I turned. Pole weapons were good when held to keep an enemy at bay. The four men had lowered theirs. My men had swords and they used them. I saw that two of the sentries’ heads had been split open and the other two were knocked aside.
Seeing that none of my men were hurt I shouted, “Ride!”
We were through, but eventually word would reach Slo. There would be a lord there, and they would pursue us. We headed into the dark. I doubted that the two men who had been unwounded would be in a position to pursue us, for we had spied no horses.
I intended to get off the road that ran north as soon as I could. The roads off the main road were narrow, and there were many side tracks which led off from them. I would ignore most of them until daylight came and allowed me to see further ahead.
Then, I took the first large sideroad, which headed east. It twisted and turned. Along the side grew hawthorn, elder and alder. We kept a steady pace without punishing the horses. There would be pursuit, but I hoped we would have made our purchases and disappeared north by then. I smiled ruefully. They would send men such as we to catch us; archers and men of the woods. It would be the reverse of our foray into the woods at Codnor. Were we good enough to evade our enemies?
It was not long before noon when we reached Leueton. We had used the smaller roads to twist and turn towards the large market town, and we stopped when we saw it in the distance. David and I dismounted our horses and approached the small beck that ran close by the road.
There were sheep and cattle in a nearby farm, and they had used the stream to drink. They had muddied and fouled the ground close to it and so, taking off our cloaks, we rolled in their slurry. This was the first opportunity we had encountered to do so, and I feared that the wet, fresh mud might create suspicion – but it was too late to do anything about it. We donned our cloaks and headed towards the town. I was reassured as we closed with it, for there was neither castle nor wall around it, and we stopped just outside at a convenient stand of oaks. The trees looked to have been copsed, and obviously the townsfolk used the timber for their fires in winter. Leaving our bows with the others and John of Nottingham in command, David and I dismounted and walked our horses into the town while our men made a small camp in some undergrowth. There were fields nearby, but they contained growing crops and farmers would have no need to visit them.
It was a bustling market, and that afforded us cover so we were hardly noticed. Our swords attracted a little attention, but in the parlous times in which we lived such weaponry was not a surprise. There were plenty of stalls in the market as well as more permanent establishments. No one commented on our dirty clothes, they were just grateful for our coin and happily sold us all that we desired. A civil war was not good for merchants. We bought bread and cheese as well as a bag of oats for the horses, and then went to an alehouse.
Leaving our horses and supplies with a well-paid old man, we entered the Lion and the Lamb tavern. We chose it carefully, avoiding those inns which suggested an affiliation with either the rebels or the king. I bought an ale for each of us and an ale skin to take back for the others. Then we listened, and my heart sank as we heard the news from Lewes. Lord Edward and his cousin, Henry Almain, had been taken hostage as surety for the good behaviour and co-operation of their fathers, the king and Richard of Cornwall. Richard of Cornwall was incarcerated in Kenilworth Castle, while King Henry was kept close to the Earl of Leicester. Their final fate appeared to be a mystery. The king was to be ruled by a de Montfort-appointed council. He was a puppet and could only make decisions approved by his minders. As we left to return to our men, my spirits were as low as any time since my father died. My employer was a prisoner, I was on the run and there seemed little likelihood of employment in England. I would have to go abroad again.
No one appeared to notice us as we left the market, and we reached our men and horses unmolested. We went into a convenient copse of copper beech to change. We did not throw away our livery as I hoped that, someday, we would be able to wear it again. We had been treated badly by Lord Edward, but he and his father were the rightful rulers of England. Simon de Montfort, the Earl of Leicester, was trying to steal a crown!
Once dressed in the motley array of clothes I had bought, we headed north and east from Leueton. We were just a little too close to the Great North Road for my liking, and I wanted to put as much distance as possible between us and any pursuit. I had spied the signs at the crossroads, and now had a better idea of the route we ought to take.
John of Nottingham and Jack of Lincoln flanked me as we headed for Biggleswade. A small town, its old motte and bailey castle was now just a mound and a ditch. It belonged to the Bishop of Lincoln; there was no lord of the manor and that suited us. We would reach there after dark. John asked, “What if there are men following us?”
“There will be. We killed a sergeant from the Tower of London. We were seen on the Great West Road where we also slew rebels and, most importantly, we serve Lord Edward. We are a danger and a threat, so they will send men to pursue us. I just hope that we can now disappear.”
“Then why head to Biggleswade, Lord? Why risk people seeing us?”
I shrugged. “That is simple. We need to put as much distance between us as possible. We will not enter Biggleswade, but I wish to be near it so that we can leave before dawn and skirt it. Once we have passed that manor, we have the River Great Ouse to cross at Huntingdon. There are few people there and the castle was pulled down by King Henry the Second, but we must cross that river. I propose that we do so in small groups spread out over the day. After that, we will reach Peterborough where we pretend that we are visiting Peterborough Cathedral.”
Jack asked, “Why, what is there?”
John of Nottingham answered for me. “Probably nothing save for priests who like to make money from the gullible poor, but according to legend they have: two pieces of swaddling clothes which wrapped the baby Jesus; pieces of his manger; a part of the five loaves which fed the 5,000; a piece of the raiment of Mary the mother of Jesus; a piece of Aaron’s rod and relics of St Peter, St Paul and St Andrew.”
Jack laughed. “Aye, and I am the brother of St John!”
I knew that Jack was right and they were not true relics, but that did not matter, for it gave us an excuse to be in Peterborough – and we needed more food and, most importantly, knowledge. The town was important and the people there would know what had happened in the wider world.
“Whatever the truth of the relics, it gives us an excuse. There is no castle at Peterborough, but it is an important place. We can gauge the mood of the people there. Unless they exhibit rebel tendencies I shall begin to feel more comfortable. Despite our best efforts, people will talk of the two men who went to the market in Leueton. They may try other places first, but once they are on our trail, they will stick to it.”
Our new clothes and the story that we were returning home from foreign wars appeared to put the people we met at their ease. The battle had been widely reported, but our presence on the road north seemed to be accepted. There had been rebel archers, but the stories people told were that there were no archers on the king’s side. We reached Biggleswade just after dark and found an abandoned farm in which to stay. The roof on the farm had long gone, but the walls remained and our horses were hidden from view.
We had a cold supper and I set sentries. I took the last watch and woke my men when I considered it to be an hour before dawn. By the ti
me dawn broke we were north of Biggleswade, and I hoped that we would reach the bridge across the river by late morning.
There was a low ridge, which overlooked the bridge, and we halted there beneath the leaves of a small wood which had been left between two fields. The settlement was larger than I thought, but it did not look to be garrisoned. I saw travellers using the bridge.
“I will ride down first with Robin of Barnsley and Jack of Lincoln. We must each have a different story. Ours will be that we return home to Lincoln after fighting in Poitou. I know enough about Poitou to convince any who questions us closely. John of Nottingham, Will Yew Tree and Tom, John’s son, you will bring up the rear. You served at Rochester Castle and were dismissed. You return to Nottingham to seek work, and the rest of you are pilgrims heading for Durham to visit the tomb of St. Cuthbert. We will wait north of the town. If you find trouble then sound your hunting horn. We all go to the aid of whichever group is attacked. Remember to smile and keep your hands from your swords.”
“Aye, Captain.”
We rode towards the stone bridge at a steady pace. I saw two men who were obviously locals and were fishing from the middle of the bridge. We nodded and smiled back at the travellers we passed who were heading south. The two fishermen turned at the sound of our horses’ hooves. Most of the other travellers were either afoot or had a cart pulled by a donkey. Eleanor stood out as the horse of a soldier.
“A fine horse, my friend.” The man who spoke to me had the look of an old soldier, but one who now led a comfortable life. He had a healthy beer belly and the red face of a man who drinks often. He smiled all the time he spoke.
“Aye, she suits me.” I had not stopped, even though I spoke politely to the man.
He persisted. “Have you come from the Battle of Lewes?”
I shook my head and reined in Eleanor. If I hurried off it would look suspicious. “We were in Poitou, fighting Frenchmen. Fighting Englishmen is not profitable. We prefer to take coin from foreign masters.”
My answer seemed to satisfy the man. “Aye, well, the war in England is over now, so if you want money you will need to go abroad again.”
I patted my purse. “Never fear, my friend, our days of fighting are over. I head north to buy an alehouse and find some pretty wenches to serve in it.”
It was the right thing to say and he laughed. “Aye, the dream of all old soldiers. Well, good luck to you all.”
After we had left him, I said, quietly, “We stop at the first alehouse. That man was just a little too nosey for my liking. Robin, buy the ale, and I will walk back to the bridge to see the others get safely across.”
There was an inn that was so close to the river they could have used the lower rooms to fish from. I gave my reins to Jack of Lincoln and took my bow, still in its case. I jammed three arrows in my belt. I saw my next men approach. In Leueton, David the Welshman had impressed me with his ability to dissemble, and when I saw the suspicious man laugh, I knew that he had convinced them of a story. I wondered if I was being unduly cautious. My men passed me without acknowledgement and carried on through the town.
It was when I saw the suspicious man’s companion stride towards the town that my suspicions rose once more. I slipped behind a building and turned my back so that he did not see me as he passed. I took my bow from its case and strung it.
I had seen no castle, but there had to have been a hall, for a few moments after the man had passed me, I heard the strident peal of a bell. It was at that moment that John of Nottingham and my last men began to cross the bridge. The ex-soldier belied his size and ran towards me. From behind me, I heard shouts.
We were undone!
Chapter 4
I nocked an arrow. I saw John of Nottingham draw a sword: he recognised the danger. Men ran from behind me but, as my bow was hidden by my body, they ignored me. I guessed the hall lay in the western end of the small town. I cursed myself, for I should have scouted it out – and now we might pay for my carelessness with our lives.
Jack and Robin had heard the noise and emerged from the inn. They stood by the horses with the others who had followed them from within the inn to see what was amiss. The veteran pointed up the road David the Welshman had taken. “They are heading up the road, my lord, and I think there are more coming over the bridge! They are supporters of the king!”
“Tom, take five men and get after them. The rest, come with me!” I said.
We were saved by the fact I was hidden and my two men were shielded by horses. Even so, the other fisherman was now racing down the bridge and following John of Nottingham. I turned, with an arrow nocked, as the lord led six men at arms to apprehend him, Will and Tom. I saw that they all wore the white cross I had seen at Lewes.
I stepped into the middle of the bridge and aimed the arrow at the lord’s chest. He was less than twenty paces from me. Jack and Robin had each nocked an arrow and they stood ready too, although they were hidden from the lord and his men. They were facing me and the bridge.
“My lord, we mean no harm. Let us pass, or there will be blood.”
I saw that he was a young lord. I did not recognise his livery. He had a sword but no shield, and he wore his mail hauberk even though there was no war close by. His men at arms were similarly armed, but they wore helmets. Behind me, I heard the hooves of John and the others.
“You are an enemy of the people and I arrest you in the name of the barons of England, put up your bow. Take him!”
One of his men, braver than the others, stepped forward. I made a slight adjustment to my bow and pinned his foot to the ground with an arrow. He would be crippled, for it was a war arrow and the broad head would break bones and tear tendons. Even as he screamed in pain and the lord and his men looked on in shock, I had another arrow nocked.
“And this arrow is aimed at you, my lord. If you look to your left you will see two more bows are aimed at you, and I have three more men behind me.”
I saw the dilemma on his face. He wished to risk all, but he dared not. Further north I heard the clash of steel and shouts of pain as David the Welshman and Stephen Green Feather dealt with the ex-soldier and the other men.
“Your men are hurting and you can stop the pain. Lower your weapons and we will leave you and your town.”
The man I had wounded was an old sergeant. He sat down and removed his helmet. There was blood seeping from his boot. “Do it, Sir Roger, I beg of you. He has crippled me. I need a surgeon, and these men know their business. There will be time to take our vengeance.” He glared at me.
Sir Roger sheathed his sword as John of Nottingham appeared behind me. “I have your back, Captain. You may mount!”
I slipped up onto Eleanor’s back and we backed up the street. There had been people at the sides of the street, but they had wisely moved off into the alleys and side roads. I whipped Eleanor’s head around and we galloped after David and Stephen. I saw two of the men sent after them, and they had both been struck by arrows. One was wounded in the arm and the other in the leg. The ex-soldier raised his fist as we passed.
“Archer scum!”
John of Nottingham smacked him on the back of his head for his pains as he rode next to him. “Keep a civil tongue in your head. We let you live did we not?”
The man clutched his bleeding head, but he moved away from John in case there was another angry blow.
We were now in trouble. We had passed our last major obstacle, but the hounds would be after us now. I knew not the lord, nor his name, but he had struck me as a vengeful knight. He had fought at Lewes – his tunic showed me that – and an archer had humiliated him. I would remember the red tunic with yellow songbirds, for he would seek me out.
We said nothing to each other as we galloped north. The men we had hurt would take time in gathering horses and following us, but follow us they would. We could not head to Peterborough now. It was too large a place.
Even as we rode north, I was calculating what we would do. Peterborough was the largest town
in the area, and I had planned on a feigned pilgrimage to lose ourselves in the crowd. Now they would be looking for eight warriors. I worked out that if we headed north-east, we could avoid Stamford, which had a small castle, and then take the road to Lincoln. We had to lose our pursuers. I decided to risk the Great North Road. We could move faster along it, and I intended to leave the road before the River Nene and lose ourselves in the low lying and swampy land which lay to the north of Stamford and Peterborough. It would be a long ride of twenty-five miles to Stamford, but we had three spare horses.
We rode hard until we were north of Stilton. I reined in and said, “Are we followed?”
John of Nottingham shook his head. “I have seen none yet, but the blood we spilt means that they will come.” His voice told me he was worried and, if he was, then the rest, save Jack of Lincoln, would be also.
I nodded. “Fate has intervened and we can do little about it.”
Stephen Green Feather said, “It was my fault, Captain. I said something that told that soldier we were Lord Edward’s archers. The word slipped out, for the man appeared friendly.”
I nodded, for I knew something must have prompted the attack. “That does not matter now, for the carrot is out of the ground. Until we make York, choose each word as though it is an arrowhead!” They all nodded. “We will head for Stamford and ride overnight. Best to be beyond that small castle by dawn. We find a wood and sleep during the day. We will use the three horses to rest ours. Eleanor is the best horse, and I will be the last to change. John of Nottingham, are you happy to be the rear-guard?”
“Aye, for Tom, John’s son, does not fart as much as Will Yew Tree.”
Will nodded amiably. “I blame the lack of ale, for good beer aids the digestion and makes the body function as it should – but I agree with you there.”
The humour showed that the men were in good spirits, and I headed for the Great North Road. Although we were still intact and had suffered no wounds, our position could hardly be worse. There were men who might have followed us from Lewes. The attack at the crossroads near Slo would also have attracted attention, and now the incident at the bridge meant we were leaving clear markers. Eventually, someone would work out our ultimate destination and get ahead of us.
