by Griff Hosker
The others curled up and slept. I sheathed my dagger but kept my sword on the table. Alan of Southwark asked, “What will happen to me?”
I shrugged, “That depends upon you. You were a soldier once?” he nodded. “Then, at some time you had honour. If, when we have visited ‘The Saddle’, you swear to leave London and never to return then I will let you go.”
“Without weapons, mail and buskins? Kill me now!”
“Those will be returned to you when you have sworn and we have dealt with those in ‘The Saddle’.”
“What is there for me then?”
“There are men like you all over this land. Harold here was a soldier and he has fallen on hard times. He did not resort to brigandry! All men make choices. Whether they are good or bad depend upon what is in here.” I tapped my heart. “Reflect on that!”
Chapter 3
We left as soon as the horn sounded and the watch was set down. We put Jacko in a cart. I returned all but the sword to Alan of Southwark and he pulled the cart. It was early and the only people about were those hurrying to the Cheap to begin work. We were ignored. ‘The Saddle’ lay north of the Roman thoroughfare, Watling Street. They had not kept a good watch for we had to bang upon the door. When it was opened I burst in closely followed by Harold who brought Alan of Southwark with us. The man before me was in a sleeping shift. I shouted, “I am William Strongstaff come now and you will live. If we have to seek you out then you will die!”
A couple of men appeared and three women. One man looked old and grey. I did not think he was a member of the gang. “Who are you?”
John said, “That is Old Peter. This is his inn.”
“Who are you, sir?”
“We are rat catchers and today, Old Peter, we rid you of the vermin who have infested your inn. Harold, Tom, John, go and find the rest of the gang.”
One of the men who had appeared from the back tried to run. Peter’s hand swung and knocked him to the ground. He did not move. Old Peter clapped his hands and kicked the man in the ribs for good measure. The rest of the gang proved to be four sorry looking characters who came into the room in their breeks. They were not the warriors. They were the ones who fetched and carried. We had slain the warriors. I sheathed my sword. “Your days in London are finished. Outside in a cart is another of your company. Take him and leave London. I will be here for another couple of days and if I see you then I will have you given the brand of a malefactor. You have the opportunity to regain some dignity in your life. Start anew.” I turned to Alan of Southwark. I had his sword and scabbard in my hand. “Your mail is on the cart. Do you swear on your sword that you will quit London?”
“You do not ask that I swear not to seek revenge?”
I smiled, “Feel free to seek revenge for I see nothing about you to make me fear you. In fact, if you wish we will try a bout now? What say you?” I handed him his sword.
He shook his head, “I know my limitations. I swear that I will quit London. More, I will quit England!”
“Then, in future, make better choices.”
There were other members of the gangs in the other two inns the gang controlled. After we left ‘The Saddle’ we visited them too. They were soon evicted and control returned to their landlords. The ten men who fled were opportunists who had latched on to Cruel Jack and been privy to the breadcrumbs he threw their way.
The three landlords tried to press money into my palm. I shook my head, “I helped out two old friends and their friends. Next time, I would keep a sword handy and defend what is yours. Tom and John can teach you how to use weapons. Band together. If you were a guild you would have protection of colleagues.” I saw realisation fill their faces. They had power if they were of one mind.
Peter, Harold and I left them and walked across the city to ‘The Earl Marshal’. Edgar and Wilfred had been concerned when Harold had not returned. When they saw the two of us they were overjoyed. Of course, they were more than happy to join me. It meant employment and guaranteed pay. More than that they knew that they would be well led. We moved their war gear to ‘The Blue Company’. I had been delayed but now I could begin my search for ten archers and seven more men at arms.
Fate had taken a hand and our action in dealing with Cruel Jack and his gang yielded unexpected results. Word spread about the trio of handy warriors who had rid the city of bandits. I dare say the Mayor heard too but he was too wily to risk confrontation. Publicly he spoke of how the city had been cleansed of criminals. He took credit for our actions. He was a typical politician. I would not be in the city long enough to risk his wrath. Four warriors arrived at the tavern late in the afternoon. They wore the signs of their trade. They each had a pot helmet over their shoulder and a shield slung on their back. Their swords and daggers were well maintained. One had a mail hauberk. The others wore aketons beneath brigandines. That told me much. A brigandine was a leather faced canvas jacket lined with metal. It was almost as effective as mail. These were warriors. Their buskins were scuffed and badly worn. They had walked more than they had ridden. We would need horses for all of them. I had not considered that problem.
“Captain, we have heard you seek men at arms to serve in Castile. We would like the opportunity to serve with you.”
“How do you know me?”
It was the sergeant with the mail who answered me, “I knew you in Aquitaine. I was with the White Company. I remember you at the battle of the bridge at Lussac. We heard in the tavern that you were in the city and that you had bested Cruel Jack.”
“How did you know him?” I was suspicious. Had these four been part of the gang?
“He approached us when we reached London a month since. He robbed us of our horses and made life hard. He wanted us for his gang but we are not bandits.”
“Did you not appeal to the city council?”
Another of them snorted, “They are just bandits who wear fine clothes. I swear, Captain, there are more thieves in London than honest folk. I would I were gone from here.”
“Then fetch your war gear and I will draw up the contracts.”
Peter nodded, “They look like good fellows, Master.”
“Aye and I think we will get no more here. I have seen neither hide nor hair of an archer. The city is the wrong place to find them. Mayhap Captain Tom has had more luck in Lincoln.” I decided to head straight back to Lincoln. I had seven of the men I needed. I had not yet tried to find men locally around the county. I drew up a contract. Tom had parchment and quill. Not all of them could write but I read it and they made their marks. The four new men: Joseph Woodman, David of Welshpool, Natty Longjack and Geoffrey of Gisburn had all served in France and Aquitaine. Most had returned to England when the work dried up.
“You will need horses but I will fetch those when I come to Southampton.” I took out eight shillings. “Here is a shilling each. Harold Four Fingers I give you two. Walk the men to Southampton and I will join you there in fourteen nights. You need not leave straightaway. I will pay John and Tom for your accommodation. We took boots from the men we slew. If they fit you then take them. There are also weapons. They are yours. I will see you in Southampton.”
“I will be there Captain as will the others. Have no fear.”
Peter and I left London but this time we rode and people moved out of our way. All had heard of the confrontation. No one spoke openly about it but it appeared to be common knowledge. Those who had liked Cruel Jack made certain they kept their distance and the ones who had feared the gang kept away for they did not want to be singled out after we had left. The name Strongstaff and the blue surcoat would be remembered in London. I wondered how many knew that I was the same Will Strongstaff who had been King Richard’s bodyguard.
“You did well, Peter.”
He nodded, “I enjoyed it Master. It has been many years since I was called upon to fight. It is good to know that I have not forgotten those skills.”
“That you have not and Peter, call me Captain. I have never owned anothe
r person in my life.”
“Aye Captain and it rolls off the tongue easier.”
Now that we had some of the men I needed I felt easier in my own mind. I was almost half way there and I hoped that Captain Tom would be able to deliver the rest. We managed the journey back to Lincoln in three days. Captain Tom was in the middle of an inevitable story. His back was to us and so we stood in the doorway and listened. It was the story of me at the Bridge of Lussac. Each time he told it the numbers we had killed grew and the death of Sir John Chandos took longer. When he had finished I clapped, “I should like to meet this Colossus. He sounds like a formidable fighter.”
“William!” He shrugged as he stood, “What can I say? If the story changes then it is because I look at it through time’s glass. Were you successful?”
I handed my cloak to Peter who followed Dolly up the stairs, “We were but the tale is so interesting that I will tell you with a beaker of ale!”
Peter had come down from the room and joined us by the time I had finished. He nodded, “I have heard about such gangs. They would not try it here for there are fewer inns and we have a good watch. I fear, however, that I have not done as well as you. The Earl of Derby and Northampton has already taken all of the men at arms who might have served with you. However, I do have eight archers who are willing to serve but there is a problem.”
“What kind?”
“They are outlaws.”
Since the Charter of the Forests had been signed almost a century and a half ago there had been far less need for men to resort to outlawry. I frowned.
Captain Tom held up his hand. “They have good reasons for their choice. They served with Sir Richard de Montfort in the campaigns we fought for the Black Prince.”
“I remember de Montfort. I never liked him. He was a mean-spirited man. He was a leader who led from the rear.”
“Aye well he had a manor at Bolsover and when he returned he said his archers had not served him well enough in the campaign and he dismissed them, without pay. Even worse, when they appealed to the Bishop of Lincoln, he took their lands from them as punishment.”
“And he got away with it?”
“He is a friend of Robert de Vere. The archers were forced to flee to the forests which lie north of here. That was three years since. Many have left the life and the forests but there are nine there still. They live not far from the hamlet of Askham.”
“And how do you know them?”
“Their captain, John of Nottingham, was a friend of mine. He died last year. These last nine visit my inn. They know that they are safe here and I look after them.” He shrugged. “It was not right what de Montfort did to them. I would have mentioned them before now but I wanted to be sure they would serve. They have had enough of life in the forest. They see this as a chance to redeem themselves and make a fresh start. Six months would allow them to do that.”
I nodded, “When can I meet with them?”
“They will be here tomorrow after dark.”
“I will take your word for their suitability and if they will serve then I will take them but we shall need horses. You know what Castile is like.”
“I know a horse trader. He lives just outside Lincoln. They may well be little more than sumpters.”
“Then that will have to do. If we can get rouncys so much the better.”
“Has Sir Robert given you the coin for the animals yet?”
“No, I still have coins we took from the bandits. I will get it back.”
The aptly named Ralph the Horse proved to be more than helpful. He had a surplus and that might have been the reason. He was too far from the embarkation port of Southampton to make real money and the midlands and north were both quiet. Horses were expensive. The country was still recovering from the plague. I bought four sumpters and eight rouncys. He only had eight spare saddles. That was not a problem. There was a saddler close to the castle. They just had to be a simple one. Archers rode to war and then dismounted to fight.
The archers did not arrive until after dark. They did not bring their bows and each came hooded and cloaked. They wore simple galoches on their feet. They were home-made and wooden, carved from the timber of the forests, and their tunics and breeks were well darned. These men had seen hard times. They all looked lean and fit. Their skins were a nutty brown and each of them moved gracefully despite the wooden shoes. Captain Tom had a small room he kept for nobles or gentlemen who stayed in the inn and required privacy. We used it and Peter stood guard on the door. He sat with Dolly on his knee but he was alert to any who might eavesdrop.
Their leader was a man who had cropped hair. He was also the biggest of them and he spoke after I had introduced myself and told them what was required. “Captain, I am Stephen the Tracker. John of Nottingham was my elder brother and I have led the band since then. We came back from the wars over twenty-five strong. We are all that is left and we deserve more. We had a treacherous lord and we should not be punished for his perfidy.”
“No, you should not. If you accept this scutage then I can guarantee pay and food for six months. I hope that we can continue after that but I am a man of my word and I will not promise that which I cannot deliver.”
“Captain Tom has told us about you and we have heard your name. Six months will let us become men again. We will not have to hide and eke out a living. We will not have to wear wooden shoes nor darn our clothes. We will drink ale more than once a month!”
“Then I will shake each man’s hand and tomorrow we ride to my home. You will be well fed and I will have you clothed by Sir Robert.”
Each man came in turn and said his name. The handshake was more than a gesture. These were archers and the handshake they gave to me were promises. To them the handshake was as sacred as an oath.
“Stephen the Tracker. I lead this band.”
“Alan of the Wood.”
“Jack War Bag.”
“Simon the Traveller.”
“Lol son of Wilson.”
“Walter Longridge.”
“Silent David.”
“Garth of Worksop.”
“James Warbow.”
The one who stood out was Silent David. He was a huge man. I am tall and broad but he was taller and broader. I learned that he could send an arrow fifty paces further than any other of the archers. Yet he rarely spoke. We spent an hour getting to know one another. We drank ale and I paid for food. They had gear to fetch from the woods and would not be back until noon the next day. Some had swords. Some had hand axes. All had daggers. Two still had helmets from the wars but all had caps. Most important were their war bows, arrows and arrow bags. As Stephen the Tracker told me they had neither war arrows nor bodkins. They had been reusing and repairing the hunting arrows. That would be the first task. We would need shafts and feathers as well as heads. They would have to fletch enough arrows to take with us. We would get none in Castile.
It took three days to reach my home. I knew that the archers, following our words on the ride home, were not expecting a castle. They knew that I was just a gentleman. When they saw the extent of my buildings they were impressed. Stephen the Tracker nodded, “And you were just one of the Blue Company?” I nodded. “Then there is hope for some of us. I thought Captain Tom was as high as a man could go but you have gone further.” Tom saw us returning and ran to greet me. He was still not as coordinated as I might have liked. He often fell when he ran and so I reined in and handed my reins to Peter. “Take the men to the barn.”
“Aye Captain.”
I swept Tom up. He stared in awe at the archers. “Are they your men?”
I nodded, “I will lead them, for a while at least.”
He whispered in my ear, “They have no mail and they look poor!”
I said, equally quietly, “They are but that is not their fault. Your mother has a couple of days to fatten them up and for me to make them look less like vagabonds.”
We walked to my hall. The new buildings were all finished and I saw tha
t Stephen the Tracker had been correct. I had come far. Who knew how much further I might travel?
I heard my wife shouting commands to the two servants as I entered the house. Alice was now crawling and when I put Tom down he ran to stop her climbing up the wooden chair which lay close to the fire. I knelt down and picked her up. She rubbed her hands in my beard and giggled, “Now then trouble! I can see we shall have to have a halter for you.”
She made a sound which my wife said was dada. It did not sound like the mama she used for Eleanor and so she might have been correct. Eleanor came in from the kitchen. Her hands were covered in flour. She leaned up and kissed me. “You have found men?”
“I have some, almost all of them, in Southampton. These nine are my archers. We have but three days at home and then I must go to the muster.”
She nodded, “Make sure you have the coins from Sir Robert before you leave.”
I laughed, “You should have been born a reeve!”
“The plague took everything, husband. I shall not allow my family to suffer.” Her eyes became sad. “Anne of Stonebrook died three days since. We buried her yesterday. You should see Dick, her husband.” She shook her head. “I played with Anne when we were children. I fear that when she lost the child she lost the will to live. I pray that her husband does not follow her. He is in low spirits. He is speaking of giving up the tenancy.”
I nodded, “I will visit with him. I will go with Peter and after I have spoken with Sir Robert I will spend some time with Dick. Is Sir Robert still at Towcester?” She nodded. “It may be dark before I return. The leader of the archers is Stephen the Tracker. He is a good man but these archers have lived rough. They were outlaws in the forests around Worksop.”
She made the sign of the cross, “Poor men. If you will let me get about my work then they will be fed. Tom, watch your sister. If she falls in the fire then you shall be punished.”
