King in Waiting

by Griff Hosker

  The problem lay on the road we now used. It was the quickest way to the north and everyone used it. Just a couple of miles north of the bridge we had passed two merchants and their servants, heading south. When they reached the bridge, then Sir Roger with the yellow songbirds would know whence we had fled. We stopped only to change horses so that we could keep going at a fast pace. It was getting on for sunset when we reached the River Nene and crossed it.

  When we stopped, I saw that Eleanor could not go much further. I saw, just to the east of the road, a track that led to what looked like a deserted farm. The track had a covering of stones. As we remounted, I pointed to it. “We take that track and head for the farm.”

  Will asked, “Do we camp there, Captain?”

  “No, for it is too close to the road. I am using the track as it is covered in stone and will disguise our hoof prints. We are heading across country. We will ride as far as we can and then see if we can find a wood. I would hold up for the day and then risk the road again at night.”

  I dug my heels into Eleanor. The plan sounded plausible, but it was riddled with potential traps. Riding across country at night was a huge risk, for the last thing we needed was for a horse to fall and hurt the rider. I was taking the greatest risk, as Eleanor was now in the worst condition and therefore the most likely to fall.

  We passed the farm and I headed across the fields, now filled with weeds and tares, in a north-easterly direction. The field boundaries had once been dry stone walls, and we were able to pass through them where holes had appeared. We kept going until we came upon a narrow road. It headed north. A road meant people but, as the sun was setting in the west, it seemed the best route to take. We rode for half a mile and then I held up my hand. “We will walk. Our horses are becoming weary.”

  We trudged up the road in darkness. We did not pass any village, but I saw many tracks leading off the road and could smell, in the distance, woodsmoke. We crossed many small streams, and I was aware that the road was almost a causeway. In winter this land would be a patchwork of swamps and flooded fields; we were lucky that it was May.

  The wood I spied was not a large one, but it was on a tiny island of slightly higher ground. Around it lay shallow pools and swampy land. It would have to do. We crossed the swampy ground and headed for the trees. The mud sucked at our boots. If we had tried to ride our horses they would have struggled. Once we were on the firmer ground of the island, movement became easier, and when we reached the trees, I saw that it was a bigger wood than it had appeared at first. I took us into what I assumed was the centre. There was no area large enough for a single camp, and so we spread ourselves out.

  I saw to Eleanor first. I cleaned her as best I could and then used our leather pail to fetch water from one of the pools we had passed. She drank heavily, and I gave her a few handfuls of the oats we had bought. There was enough grazing for all our horses, and they would be able to rest the next day.

  All of us cared for our horses before we saw to ourselves. We were spread out under the canopy of the trees and, although weary, we spoke as we ate the bread we had bought in Leueton. That seemed like days ago.

  Jack of Lincoln put his hands behind his head. “You know, Captain, I cannot understand those men we saw at the bridge. That lord spoke of the barons as though they ruled England. I thought we had a king.”

  “We do, and I think Simon de Montfort would be king – but regicide is a grievous sin. This way, the barons rule England, and any blame for the governance can be laid at the door of the king.”

  John of Nottingham shook his head. “It is no wonder we lost Normandy and Poitou with lords like that. They are all self-serving.”

  I remained silent but I knew he was right. Baron Henry of Clwyd had just enjoyed the benefits of his manor and had not taken on the responsibility. He had used his archers and men at arms to do the job he should have done. He enjoyed hunting and feasting at the expense of the people who tended the land. The system was not a fair one, and freemen such as my father were the exception. Most men had to work for a lord. We were lucky; we had been paid by Lord Edward and, now that he was a prisoner, we had been given our freedom. At the moment we were hunted but, if we could escape this trap, then we had a chance for a new life. I found myself smiling as I curled up in my blanket.

  Robin of Barnsley, who was the closest to me, said, “What makes you smile, Captain?”

  I said, “We are still alive and we are our own masters. It may not seem that way now with the dogs of war still snapping at our heels, but while we are together we have a chance, and I would not swap my position with any. Would you?”

  He chuckled. “Aye, Captain, you are right. This beaker of ale is half full!”

  Will Yew Tree snorted. “Except that we have no ale! I agree with all that you say, Captain, but could we call at an alehouse soon? I have a thirst like you would not believe!”

  John of Nottingham laughed. “Will Yew Tree, I have seen you drink cloudy ale, which none other would touch, from the bottom of a barrel. It is not a thirst you have; it is a need for an ale!”

  The others laughed, for Will had the lowest standards of any man. I had never seen him refuse to drink any ale, no matter how bad it was.

  “Jack of Lincoln, wake me for the next watch.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  I stood my watch with a cloudy sky masking the moon, and I neither smelled nor saw anything. I woke John of Nottingham for his watch and curled up again. I was soon asleep and my dreams were filled with the faces of my dead men. When we reached York – if we reached York – then I would pay for a candle for each of them in the minster there.

  When I woke, it was daylight. I checked on Eleanor and then made water. I walked to the edge of the wood and, staying in the shelter of the trees, I walked around its edge. The sun had emerged from behind the clouds and I saw farms. Like this wood, they tended to be on islands of land in this fenny country. I saw no towns. Will Yew Tree would have no ale this day!

  The road seemed to head north. We would spend most of the day in the wood and leave at sunset. I wished to cross the swamp while there was a vestige of light. I could see there was a track of some sort, we had missed it in the dark.

  I returned to my men and told them my plan. We spent the day fitting arrowheads to shafts; we needed to replace the arrows we had used. Each archer chose his own arrowheads. I had five bodkins, ten war arrows and five hunting arrows. The hunting arrows would pierce flesh. We had plenty of blanks, but we were short of arrowheads. That done, we rested or chatted, and the men speculated on the sort of work we might find in York. Most seemed to think we would take ship for the Baltic. They needed men to fight the pagans of Lithuania and the Teutonic knights paid well. I did not relish the thought, but I would go with the view of the majority.

  We left an hour before sunset, and I led the men north to the road. We were seen, but there was no avoiding that. The road was slightly elevated, as were the farms in the distance that we passed. We were riding horses and stood out. If any had managed to follow our trail this far, the locals would tell them of our passing. I just hoped that they had lost us and were searching further north.

  By the middle of the afternoon, Will’s wish was granted, and we found a village with an alehouse. Threekingham was the largest place we had seen and certainly the only one we actually visited. We were less than twenty-five miles from Lincoln, and there was neither hall nor castle. I took the risk. We needed a rest, and we had coins to spend on ale.

  As we dismounted, I saw what looked like an old moat and a ruined building. There had been a manor here. The arrival of eight armed men alarmed the folk in the village. I saw men picking up tools to use as weapons.

  Will Yew Tree had a beaming smile as he dismounted, and said to the man who leaned over the small stone wall holding a scythe, “Friend, where can a man get a decent ale around here?”

  The man smiled and I saw him relax. He pointed to a whitewashed wattle and daub house. “Gammer Gurton
brews a good ale. Whence come you fellows? There is no castle around here save for Lincoln.”

  I dismounted and nodded. “And that is where we are headed. We seek honest employment. What do you think of our chances?”

  He shook his head. “Here in Threekingham we keep ourselves to ourselves. The only visitor we see is the bishop’s reeve when he comes to collect taxes and, like all reeves, he is a tight-mouthed slippery bastard!”

  My men all laughed. Reeves always had that reputation. “Then we shall enjoy an ale or two and continue on our way.”

  The alehouse was simply the alewife’s front room. It doubled as a kitchen, and the house was so small that I guessed she slept in the back. She was almost toothless but her smile was welcoming, especially when Will slapped two silver pennies on the table upon which stood the barrel. “Gammer, give us ale to the value of two pennies and when that is done, one of my fellows will provide more. I hope you have more ale out of the back, for I have a thirst which would empty this one barrel alone!”

  She beamed. “Aye, sir, I have a second and you are welcome – although I must confess, this ale is more than a week old.”

  Will rubbed his hands. “All the more flavour then! I like you more and more! If I was the marrying kind, Gammer, I would take you as a wife!”

  She laughed. “I have buried three husbands already, I need not a fourth! I keep the coin I earn!”

  It was Will’s humour that put not only the gammer but the rest of the village at their ease. We bought a little food, and Gammer Gurton allowed us to cook it in her kitchen. The price we paid was to cut some firewood for her. It seemed a fair price.

  The ale, especially the new barrel, was good, and we spent the night sleeping in the field behind Gammer Gurton’s. When we left the next day, we were in a more positive frame of mind. We had full bellies, and we had enjoyed the company of the people of Threekingham. We headed for Lincoln.

  Lincoln was the king’s castle. It had been so since before the time of King Stephen. With a town wall and a strong castle, it guarded the roads leading to the north. The Earl of Leicester might rule the land to the west of the road, but here we hoped King Henry still held sway.

  We walked our horses through the gate. The town watch kept a suspicious eye on us, but they did not try to stop us. I wondered if we could risk wearing the livery of Lord Edward – and then thought better of it.

  We found an inn. Pilgrims passed through the town heading both to the north and the south, so it needed somewhere with beds, for travellers with coins. The innkeeper was pleased to have our custom. The battles of Northampton and Lewes had deterred folk from travelling, and our coins were welcome. I paid, aware that we would need an income soon enough.

  The innkeeper was garrulous and happy to talk to us. From him, we learned that Lord Edward and his cousin were incarcerated in Dover Castle, while his father was in the Tower thanks to Simon de Montfort. To all intents and purposes, he too was a prisoner. Simon de Montfort, the Earl of Leicester, now ruled England through his council of barons. He had allowed the king’s marcher lords to return to the west. He seemed not to think there was any significance in that, but I saw danger for the rebels and hope for our employment. Roger Mortimer would not allow King Henry to remain a prisoner for long. Soon he would gather men and try to wrest power from de Montfort. I wondered if we should try the west, where we would be amongst allies.

  We had eaten a late midday meal when two liveried sergeants came into the alehouse. “Who commands this company of archers?”

  I thought about lying and telling them that we were not a company, but there seemed little point. I stood. “I am Captain Gerald, called War Bow.”

  “The castellan would speak with you.”

  I nodded, for it was not unexpected. He would be concerned about having armed men in his town, especially those that he did not know. John of Nottingham made to rise and I shook my head. “Stay and enjoy the ale, this will not take long.” If I was taken prisoner then John could lead the men and escape.

  The constable was Sir Ralph Haie. He was a relative of the famous lady castellan, Nichola de la Haie. He was a greybeard, and his eyes and mind were sharp. He dismissed the officers from around him so that we were alone.

  “You are Lord Edward’s man!”

  He had come directly to the point, and I saw little point in denying it as I had already given my name to his men. “Yes, my lord.”

  “You were at the battle of Lewes?”

  “Yes, lord. It began well and ended badly.”

  “Aye, I know. The Earl of Leicester has sent a messenger to me telling me to hand over my keys to one of his men.” I gave him a questioning look. He smiled. “Messengers take some time to reach here. I sent a vague message back, and I will be safe for some time. You, on the other hand, are hunted.”

  I started. How did he know? “Whence did you gather this knowledge, my lord?”

  “Yesterday an arrogant young rebel, flaunting de Montfort’s white cross, arrived. I did not like Sir Roger de la Braie! He spoke to me as though my white hairs and position were worthless. He asked about you and said you had attacked his men.” I saw his eyebrows raised in question.

  “We did use our weapons, my lord, for they tried to bar our way and take us prisoner. We had done nothing wrong.”

  “He also said that you had slain men on the Great West Road.”

  I nodded. “That is true. They also tried to bar our way.”

  He smiled. “Then I will make certain that we do not bar your way.” He poured some wine for us. “I have heard of you, War Bow. I met once with Lord Edward and he told me your tale. He holds you in high regard.” That surprised me, for he rarely praised me. “For that reason, I will confide in you. De Montfort thinks he has won, but there are more loyal men who support the king than this rebel who would usurp the crown. It will take time, but we will prevail. For that reason, I ask you to leave tomorrow before dawn. I will give you a pass to leave the city before the gates are opened. Where do you go?”

  I hesitated. “Come, Gerald War Bow, if we cannot trust each other, then de Montfort has won already.”

  “York. We thought to take ship for crusade or find employment there.”

  “Find employment and stay in England, for Lord Edward will need you. Those of us who support the king and his son will keep in touch. We will send a messenger to York, should we need you.” He smiled. “It will be someone you know, for there are many turncoats and traitors.”

  I nodded. “Thank you, my lord. We will stay in York.”

  He took a piece of parchment and scribbled on it. He used his seal and handed it to me. “Be careful on the road. You may meet this Sir Roger.”

  “How many men were with him, my lord?”

  “There were four men at arms and another ten who looked like hired swords. They all wear the white cross as though they are blessed by Our Lord! Blasphemy, for they fight against the Lord’s anointed king!”

  I left in a more positive frame of mind. With men like the castellan there was hope for England and Lord Edward. When I returned to the inn, I paid our bill. “We shall leave before dawn, innkeeper.”

  I saw the disappointment on his face, for we had spent well. “You will not be able to leave before the gates are open, sir.”

  “Let me worry about that. Come, men, we shall retire, for I have much to tell you.”

  We were all accommodated in one cramped little room. Our faces were close when I spoke, as quietly as I dared, of what I had learned. “So, if any of you wish to go on a crusade then leave us at York. For my own part, I will stay there, for I like not this rebellion.”

  John of Nottingham said, “Then we all stay. We are the company of the War Bow, and I, for one, am happy to continue.”

  They all nodded and it made me feel inordinately happy.

  I smiled. “One piece of good news is that we have now left the Great North Road. That headed north and west. We use smaller roads until we near York. They are still Roman,
but there will be fewer travellers. This road we’re on is only used by those travelling to either York or Lincoln.”

  We would be heading due north on the road the Romans had used to march to the city they called Eboracum, and within two days we would be in the relative safety of a northern city – one which lay beyond the influence of Simon de Montfort.

  Chapter 5

  The sentries seemed surprised that we had a pass, but the castellan’s seal persuaded them, so they unbarred the gate and allowed us to head north to York. We had over seventy miles to go, and Sir Roger was on the road. We would have to be careful. I should have known that there were men watching for us on our way to Lincoln, and I should have expected the news to reach Sir Roger and his men. My excuse is that, at that time, I was still learning. However, we did at least ride in such a way as to be able to spot any danger. Tom, John’s son, was eager to prove himself. With Ronan now dead Tom was the youngest and, as such, was always protected by the others.

  As we headed north, he pleaded with me. “Captain, let me be the scout. I have young ears and eyes and my horse, Bess, senses danger even if I do not!”

  He did not see the contradiction of his words. I saw John of Nottingham nod. “Very well, but you know what you must do?”

  “Aye, Captain, I will ride 200 paces ahead of you. If there is a bend in the road and I am hidden, then I wait until you catch up with me before I move off.”

  “Good – and if you suspect a trap or ambush?”

  “Then I dismount and examine Bess’ leg.”

  “Which leg?”

  He grinned. “That depends upon which side I see the ambush.”

  John laughed. “He will do, Captain, and this is a Roman road with few bends. The places we could be ambushed are known to us.”