by Griff Hosker
Despite his griping, Jack did not mind the conditions. It is the way with soldiers that they like to complain. You rarely find a happy soldier, at least, not on the surface.
Tom and I saddled and mounted Eleanor and Bess at dawn and we waited, hidden by the undergrowth. They arrived at the bridge earlier than I had expected, and I heard Lord Edward say, loudly, as they threw their crumbs to the waiting birds, “Let us ride to the church which lies up the road. I would go inside and pray alone for my release from this captivity.”
I heard Henry of Almain say, equally loudly, “Aye lord, and I will pray too for my father.”
I knew the words were intended for my ears. I heard the hooves as they clattered over the bridge, and then as they passed us, I realised that I could not see them which meant they could not see me, but I heard them as they chattered and laughed. It was only the words of the four nobles I heard while the guards were silent – they would be watching and listening for danger.
Lord Edward had revealed his plan to us, and so I did not follow immediately. The church lay down a lane. It was 400 paces from the village which, itself, was just 200 paces from the road. I was wary as we neared the village, but there were no horses to be seen. The two of us kept riding and passed the end of the road and the village. We were not seen. When we were a hundred paces from the village we stopped. As soon as they emerged, I would pretend to be examining my horse’s hoof.
I heard the hooves and bent down. The horses did not continue down the road towards the ford and the wood but headed due south, back towards Hereford. As they disappeared we mounted. “Come Tom, let us examine the church.”
The village was a sleepy one, with just six houses. Heads came from doors, for the road led nowhere save to the church. When I turned, the heads quickly ducked back within doors. They had learned to keep themselves to themselves.
I handed my reins to Tom and entered the dark church. It was small. There was a single candle burning, but it was a fresh one. I guessed that Lord Edward had lit it and made an offering in the offertory box. I knelt in front of the altar pretending to pray and, as I glanced to my right, I saw a tiny piece of parchment on the floor. I picked it up and stood. It must have been left there by Lord Edward. I hurried out: I would read it back in our camp.
My men had heard Lord Edward and his captors head back to the castle, and they looked at me expectantly. I opened the parchment. It simply said, ‘3’.
I showed it to them. Tom asked, “What does it mean, Captain?”
“I am guessing, and it is a guess, that they have brought the date forward, and we rescue him on the third day from now.”
“Doesn’t that complicate matters, Captain?”
Tom knew my plan already, having waited with me. “It could do, but I think we move the camp anyway. We will wait at the church tomorrow and the day after. That way we can see where they go. Then, on the day of the rescue, we will wait by the ford with the rescue horses. It is all that we can do.”
We made a camp on the far side of the river. It was a better camp, and I charged Jack and Robin with the task of finding us the quickest way to take us to the Ludlow road. I spoke at length with John of Nottingham. He was an older man and I needed his advice. After I had told him the way I expected events to turn out, he nodded. “Your reasoning is sound, Captain. The problem comes if they make a fight of it. The last thing we need is for Lord Edward to be hurt or, God forbid, killed in the rescue attempt.”
I nodded. “I want you, Jack and David to have arrows ready on the day of the rescue. If any look to harm Lord Edward then pluck them from their saddles.”
I knew for certain that Lord Edward had changed his plans when the following day the riders approached much earlier than on the other days. As they hurtled past the end of the village, where we were secreted, I saw that their horses were lathered. Lord Edward and Henry Almain were laughing. They stopped less than a mile from the lane’s end. We watched them walk back along the road, leading their lathered horses.
I heard Clifford complain, “We will not be back until the sixth hour of the day! My stomach thinks that my throat has been cut!”
Henry Almain said, “We can always find an inn while the horses recover.”
“And that is a sound idea. Perhaps my prayer yesterday in the church paid off, for after that fast ride I feel alive. We must do this again tomorrow but faster and further.”
They were moving away from me, but I heard a voice – one I did not recognise. “Remember Lord Edward, if you try to escape you will be punished and your riding privileges removed. Do not forget that our horses are the equal of yours, and we will catch you.”
“I know.”
I was now convinced that I knew the plan. The horses had looked exhausted as they had passed us, but there were still too many guards. I hoped that Lord Edward had a plan to neutralize them.
The next day was almost a copy of the first, and we remained hidden in the lane. I had Geoffrey and Lewis hidden halfway to the ford. This time we heard one of the guards – from his voice I think he was one of de Montfort’s knights – say, “The earl has said that you may ride no further north than the river, lord, for there is nothing north of there, save the woods.”
Henry of Almain laughed. “And if we reach there, we will be so exhausted it will take us a whole day to return.”
The guards said, “I know not why you ruin your horses, lord.”
When we picked up Lewis and Geoffrey, they told us that the riders had galloped past them as though they were having a race.
“Tomorrow, I want the two of you to wait here. You are here to intervene if Lord Edward looks to be captured or does not make the rendezvous. If the rescue takes place, as I hope it will, then it will just be the guards who return. You two make your way to the river and cross. Follow us to the Ludlow Road.”
“Aye, Captain.” The two of them were now far more confident and assured than they had been when they had first come to me.
That night, we went through our plans carefully. We would have to ensure that Lord Edward was safe, and after that, we would see to his companions. In a perfect world we would save them all, but this was imperfect, and we would take what we could. I would have a horse for Lord Edward, Tom would have one for Henry Almain. William and Mark would have two spares for Clifford and de Leybourne. We had kept the last two spare horses for an emergency. If a horse broke down now it would cause trouble, for we would have used them for the young lords.
Lewis and Geoffrey left before dawn. They had spent the night going through their plans. They had their bows and war arrows and would disable the horses of the guards if they could.
I was awake at dawn. I was nervous. So much rested on my shoulders and I did not like it. My happy times had been when Roger and I crossed to France and were bows for hire. Life had been uncomplicated then. The moment my life became tied to Lord Edward it had changed, and the worst of it was that I could not now leave. I was Lord Edward’s archer – our lives were bound together.
It was gone noon and they had still to arrive. I began to fear that the plot had been discovered. Perhaps the suspicious guards had mentioned something to the Earl of Leicester or someone could have informed on them. There was much treachery on both sides of this conflict. I stood holding Eleanor’s reins and the reins of the warhorse for Lord Edward.
Tom gave me a wan smile. “They have further to come today, Captain. They are not yet late.”
It was almost as though he had summoned them with his thoughts for I heard, in the distance, the thunder of hooves.
“It is time!”
I mounted and moved towards the edge of the river. If I crossed, then I would be seen by the guards, and I had to remain hidden. I would reveal myself – but I had to choose when I would be seen, or else Lord Edward would abort. I saw Lord Edward’s head as it appeared on the other side of the river. I dug my heels into Eleanor and splashed across, leading the warhorse. We laboured up the slippery bank; Tom brought the second
horse. As I rose to have a good view up the road, I saw Henry of Almain, his horse just twenty paces away. Their six guards’ horses, lathered and winded, struggled to make the ford and were forty paces back.
Lord Edward saw me and urged his weary horse towards me. When he was four paces from me he leapt from his horse and sprung onto the back of the warhorse. He stood in the stirrups and, waving his hand, shouted, “Lordlings, I bid you good day! Greet my father well and tell him that I hope to see him soon, to release him from captivity!”
As Henry of Almain mounted the second horse, Lord Edward wheeled the warhorse and I saw that he was grinning. “Well done Gerald, we did it, and I shall never doubt you again!”
Chapter 13
All of our horses were fresh and we galloped off. John and my rear-guard waited long enough to see the guards dismount – for their horses could go no further – then they joined us. So far, the plan was working, and the exhausted guards would struggle to get back to Hereford.
Robin led us, for he had scouted out our escape route. Lewis and Geoffrey caught up with us when we were a mile into the trees, and their smiles told me that we were not pursued. We bent over our horses’ heads, for we did not want to waste this God-given opportunity. When we left the forest, we hit the Ludlow Road. We had fallen into our normal formation: Tom was at the fore with Robin, John and Jack at the rear. Lord Edward was desperate to talk, I could see that, but the pounding of the hooves and the fear of pursuit kept him silent. It was only when we neared the town and castle of Ludlow that we allowed our horses to walk and for us to talk.
I let Lord Edward begin, although I had many questions. “You found my note. I knew that you would. Do not worry, Gerald, I never once saw you but, you know, I sensed that you were close and could hear me. Strange, is it not? Clifford and de Leybourne complained that they could not keep up and stopped. Four of the guards remained with them. I expect them to follow soon.”
“Will they not be held and punished, my lord?”
He laughed. “When I mounted this fine horse – you must tell me whence you had him – I looked back and saw the four guards coming to join the others. Clifford and de Leybourne will have gone back to Moreton on Lugg and rejoined the road to Ludlow there. Their horses will need to be conserved but they will get here.” He patted the horse. “Well, where did you get this fine horse?”
“He now belongs to Baron Mortimer, but I slew the knight who owned him.”
He nodded. “And that is what I should have done at Lewes, instead of chasing the scum of London. I have learned a harsh lesson, Gerald, and I am much humbled. Now we can take back our country.”
“But your father is still a prisoner, my lord!”
“And he is king. If de Montfort wished to commit regicide he would have done so long ago. The king is safe. The Earl of Leicester thinks that the dogs he has raised as a parliament of the common folk will bark loudly enough and drown out our voices. They are wrong, it is a parliament of paper he has made, and that can be torn down.” He turned to look at me and both his tone and his words were murderous. “When next we fight de Montfort and his cronies it will be the last battle, and I will eradicate the rebellious heart of de Montfort and all those like him.”
*
The gates of Ludlow were open, and I saw a host of lords waiting for us. Mortimer and de Clare were at their fore, and there was joy on their faces. They crowded around and greeted one another like old friends. Old divisions between de Clare and Lord Edward were a thing of the past; they had a new start. I thought that we were forgotten; as the gathered knights and barons all clamoured around Lord Edward, my archers and I were pushed to the side.
“Let us take the horses to the stables.” I was not convinced that there would be any room at the stables, for there seemed a mighty host in the castle already. News of the planned escape must have been more widespread than I thought! Strangely, I did not mind being ignored because I did not like being the centre of attention. I was just pleased that it had all gone well and I had lost none of my archers. To me, they were family, even the new ones. Like John and the other older archers, I viewed Peter as a young brother. All of the archers were protective of him.
When I reached the stables, I was in for a surprise. The ostler said, “Your stalls are kept for you, Captain. They are upon the orders of Baron Mortimer. This is his castle, now.”
“Thank you, ostler.” This was a case of you scratch my back and I will scratch yours. I had rescued Lord Edward, and the baron’s reward was the castle and manor of Ludlow. Giving me some stalls was a small price to pay. I was learning this game of barons and knights. “Where do we eat? For we have had a long day.”
He pointed to a building attached to the great hall into which the great and the good had retired. “The warrior hall, sir.”
All the saddles were removed, and we then brushed and combed our mounts. We gave them water and feed, for they deserved it. I also fed the two horses Lord Edward and Henry Almain had used. By the time we had finished it was dark, and the men waited for me outside the stables.
“Archers, you have done me great honour over the last days. We have shown Simon de Montfort that he cannot bend the will of all the people to his view of the world. Lord Edward is our master once more. I thank you for following one so young.”
To my surprise and great embarrassment, they began to clap their hands. They said nothing, but their smiles and their eyes bespoke volumes. I was happy. We picked up our war gear and headed across the inner ward. I knew that, no matter how crowded the warrior hall was, we would be better off than sleeping in a field.
We had almost reached the hall when a page found me. I did not know him, but I recognised his livery. It was that of Sir John who had once been Lord Edward’s squire. The page looked nervously at me. He could have been no more than twelve years old, and I suspected he had barely begun his training. He grinned sheepishly at me as though waiting for an answer to an unspoken question.
“Yes, young master?”
“My lord, Sir John, says that you are invited to the great hall, for Lord Edward wishes you to dine with him.”
Inwardly I cursed. A night with my men eating plain food and drinking honest ale appealed; I did not relish a high table with pretentious food and wine I did not enjoy. However, I was Lord Edward’s archer and I would obey. “Tell him I will be along shortly.”
“Sir John said I was to wait for you, Captain.”
I shook my head and handed him my bag of spare clothes. “Then make yourself useful and carry that to my bed. Come, boys, we will take my war gear to the hall, and then I will endure a night the like of which you can only imagine.”
Peter said, “That good?”
John of Nottingham laughed. “No, young Peter, that bad!”
When I reached the hall, it was clear that half of the knights and barons were already drunk. I saw Clifford and de Leybourne, who were surrounded by young knights and, from their arm movements, I took it that they were describing their part in the rescue. I recognised many of the lords. There were some power men there: de Warenne, de Valence and others, but closest to Lord Edward were de Clare, Mortimer and Henry Almain.
Sir John saw me first and headed over to me. He clasped my arm. We had fought together. Between us, there was no rank, although I called him, ‘my lord’. He had been a squire, and me, just an archer. Such things are important to warriors.
“Gerald, it is not only good to see you, it is an honour. When the rest of us did nothing you, alone, sought to rescue Lord Edward.”
I shook my head. “Baron Mortimer and his wife were the ones who devised the rescue. I was the instrument, but I am right glad that I did so. And how have you been, my lord?”
“Cooling my heels, as I sought a way to fight de Montfort. I am certain his lordship knows that you were right about the wood, the dead ground and the archers at Lewes. I too felt bad that I had not argued your cause more strongly.”
I nodded. “But the king, his father, wou
ld still do things the same way.”
“He would, but…” he brightened, “the king is still de Montfort’s prisoner. When we go to war it will be behind Lord Edward’s banner.”
“Good.” That was all I said, but inside me, I knew that the reckless charge of Lord Edward had cost us the battle. Had he learned in the year since Lewes?
“Come, let us sit. Lord Edward has asked for you to be close to him. He has much to say while we eat.”
We went to the long table, which housed the greatest nobles who followed Lord Edward’s banner. Sir John and I were the lowest ranked by a considerable margin. I was so out of my depth I was sure that I would not be able to eat a morsel. There was food, wine and ale in huge quantities. I spoke with Sir John and learned of his wife and young son; Sir John had high hopes of a better manor after the war. I heard the same from all of the lords on the long table close to ours; each of them spoke of the war and the rebellion being almost over. I could also hear, from my left, the sound of arrangements and accords being made. Lord Edward was rewarding his allies before the battle began. He knew that de Clare was a key piece in this real-life chessboard. I saw his head close to Baron Mortimer. When they spoke of me, I knew, for both looked at me. Having had little sleep for the last few days, I was desperate for my bed, but I knew I had to wait until either I was dismissed, or Lord Edward retired.
I do not know if Lord Edward could read my face or he was ready to speak but, in any event, he soon rose from his seat. I saw men looking at him and wondering who he would honour with a private word. He came directly for me.
He leaned close to me and spoke so that only Sir John could hear his words. “I owe you more than I can say. Know this, Gerald War Bow, when I am king, and king I shall be, you will be elevated. Before that time, however, we have a great battle to fight, a battle you have already shown you know how to win. I know this formality is not for you and so, when I have spoken, you may rejoin my archers. Tomorrow, we start to reclaim England.”
