by Griff Hosker
“What do they do best?”
I could tell from his tone that he was genuinely interested. I reached behind me and took out an arrow. “This tip can penetrate mail, Lord Edward. If I had ten archers, then we could send such a shower of these, that every warrior you lead this day could be slaughtered before they could close on us. A good archer can send an arrow more than two hundred paces. How long would it take mounted horsemen to cover such a distance?” I saw him calculating. “We could send six flights over before they closed on us. The arrows that did not hit men might hit horses. It matters not how you stop a horseman, just so long as you stop him.”
“And if the men were on foot?”
“Then they would all die. A man on foot in mail does not move swiftly, Lord Edward. Archers fear horsemen. If we are caught close to them we are in great danger. That is how I came to suffer my wound. It is why Roger of Talacre sacrificed himself. He knew, better than any, the danger I was in.”
“Yet you used your sword and dagger well. Ralph, my sergeant at arms, watched you as you took on those two mounted men. He was impressed by your courage.”
“I am strong. I may not have much skill with a sword, but I know how to win. I have learned that is what is important.”
“Then I can see that God sent you to me. He wishes me to regain all that my grandfather lost. When time allows, we will see that you are properly attired and rewarded.”
We talked as we rode. He seemed happy to confide in me. It had been the same with Roger of Talacre. There had been a bond between us before we had spoken, and so it was with Lord Edward. We headed for Auch. It was the capital of Gascony with, as I discovered, a fine cathedral, city walls and a castle. Lord Edward confided, as we rode, that he hoped to pick up more men there. “Tarbes is a strong city with six castles close by each other. Even if one has fallen I would hope that the remainder have held out.”
Roderigo of Auch ruled the town for King Henry. He was a big, bluff soldier. He needed a warhorse just to carry his weight, but his men adored him. He drank as hard as they did and did not know the meaning of defeat. He welcomed Lord Edward. I saw John, Lord Edward’s squire. Now I understood why he had ridden off early. Lord Edward was not about to allow the grass to grow beneath his feet. He would strike quickly. We might have fewer men than the enemy, but he would take them on. I admired that. I did not see Gaston and the others. They would still be waiting in Agen. Nor did I see Harry. I kept hoping that I would run into my old friend.
Now that we were in a castle, I was relegated to the warrior hall with the other men at arms and crossbowmen. I appeared to be the only archer.
Matthew, Lord Edward’s sergeant at arms, explained why. Sir Richard of Saint Justin had taken all the archers he could find. As rare as hens’ teeth in Gascony, they had hired twenty. “They will be with Sir Richard, but what I cannot understand is why he did not come here first. Everyone knows that Roderigo of Auch hates the men of Béarn and would happily have joined him.”
One of Roderigo’s men, who had had to move his bed to accommodate us, said, “I heard it was because Sir Richard wanted the glory of destroying Lord Edward’s great foe. He thought he had enough men.”
I had rearranged my arrows and stored some. I asked, “Did he?” He nodded. “He had archers?”
The man at arms seemed to see me for the first time. “Perhaps. I know that the long war bow you use is a powerful weapon, but Gaston de Béarn is a cunning commander. If he hides behind his walls what can archers do?”
I smiled. I had heard this argument before. “More than you might think, but they need to be led well. What kind of leader is this Sir Richard? Is he reckless or thoughtful?”
“I am not sure. He is fierce and he lays clever traps.”
“Men have to stand on walls to defend them. The difference between a crossbow and a bow is that we archers can stand safely behind a pavise or large shield and send arrows inside castle walls. If he is a reckless leader, then he may sally forth to destroy the archers who hide within.”
Matthew said, “You look young, and yet you know much. Have you seen much fighting?”
“Enough, and I served with archers who passed their wisdom on to me. I listen.” He nodded. I turned to Roderigo’s man. “Tell me, were there many archers who rode with Sir Richard?”
“Twenty, perhaps twenty-five. He picked up a couple who had come here seeking work.”
“Was there one, a big archer with fists like shovels? Went by the name of Harry Long Stride?”
He shook his head. “There was an Englishman who sounds like your chap, but his name was Ralph.”
I smiled. That was Harry. Just as I had changed my name to protect myself, so had he. I felt much better knowing that he was ahead of me. I would soon have my old companion at my side. I would take him on as the first of Lord Edward’s archers.
The next day we began to move just after dawn. We had fifty miles to go. Had we all been mounted we could have made it in one long day, but we were men who fought on foot. I did not have the luxury of riding at the head of the column with Lord Edward this time. We now had thirty knights and I was relegated to the rear of the mounted men. I was ahead of the foot which included crossbowmen. Crossbowmen and archers do not get on. I had heard of violence between them if drink was involved. I was alone, and so I ignored their jibes and their banter. To be truthful, I was anticipating a meeting with Harry. I would tell him of my adventures, and, I had no doubt, his would be as interesting.
We had stopped once to water and feed the horses and were on our second march, just after noon, when we halted once more. It was unusual. Word rippled down the column. I had no doubt that by the time the message reached me it would have changed beyond all recognition. Surprisingly it had not. It was simple and it was black. Sir Richard and his column had been attacked, and more than half their number were either captured or killed. Sir Richard had been badly wounded and it was feared he would never fight again. We rode just another two miles after the halt, and we camped by a small town which had a solitary tower for defence.
Matthew and Lord Edward’s men at arms had taken me under their wing and I camped with them. They were led by Captain William, and I liked him. He was bluff and he was honest. I was anxious to find out more about Harry and his fate. I made my way to the camp of the survivors. It was close to Lord Edward’s. He and his knights were in deep conference. No one had expected Sir Richard to defeat Gaston de Béarn, but to have lost more than half his men was a disaster. When I reached the survivors I saw the scale of the disaster. Half of the men I saw had wounds.
The archers, there were six of them, were seated together. That was the way with archers. None of them was Harry, and my heart sank. They looked up at my approach. One of them, a surly looking man, who appeared to have a permanent sneer on his face beneath a recently broken nose, said, “Where have you sneaked from? Managed to miss the battle, eh? Still sucking on your mammy’s titty?”
I stared at him. He was obviously overwrought, but no man suffered insults without responding. “Friend, curb your tongue, lest I remove it for my peace of mind. I came to ask of a friend I believe served with you.”
The surly fellow leapt to his feet and his hand came towards me. He was making to punch me. I wrapped my right hand around it and began to squeeze. I saw his face twist in pain. I hooked my right leg behind his left and pushed. He tumbled backwards. My sword was out and pricked his neck before he knew it.
Before it could escalate further, John, Lord Edward’s squire, came racing over. “What is this, Gerald War Bow? A sword drawn in our camp? Lord Edward asks you to curb your temper.” He gave the slightest of winks. “This is not the behaviour he expects from his captain of archers.”
I sheathed my sword. “I am sorry, lord. It will not happen again. I was just getting to know this archer. We are now acquainted.” John nodded and left. I put my hand out to help the archer to his feet. “And he knows better now than to insult a man he has only just met.”
The others stood. One of them grinned and held out his hand. “I wouldn’t worry about Guy of Sheffield. He could start an argument in an empty room. No one likes him. We lost many good archers the other day. It is a pity that he was not one of them. I am John of Nottingham.” He pointed to each archer as he named them. “Peter Crookback. Do not worry about the hunch. He is still a powerful bowman. David the Welshman, a fair archer but tends to wander off if there are sheep about.”
David the Welshman laughed and smacked John of Nottingham’s calf with an arrow, “That is because the sheep are prettier than any English woman I have ever seen!”
“The last two are Stephen Green Feathers and Robin of Barnsley.”
I nodded. “My father favoured green flights.”
“Was his name Gerald ap Llewellyn?”
“It was, did you know him?”
“No, my father served under him when he was Captain of Archers. He adopted green flights in his honour. This is a small world and no mistake. Sit friend, and tell us your tale. Did we hear aright, that you are Lord Edward’s captain of archers?”
“I am.” I squatted on the ground with them.
John of Nottingham, the eldest of the men, said, “Do not take offence, Captain, but you are young for such a title.”
“I take no offence, and you are right, but Lord Edward seems to think I can do this. If any of you wish to serve Lord Edward, I would happily lead you. I will not be offended if you decline.”
“I for one will serve. That was a neat trick with Guy and you must be strong. Had you not tripped him you would have broken his hand.”
“I am strong. I was trained by the best: my father.”
The others all offered to serve. Robin of Barnsley said, “Any paymaster is welcome. I doubt that Sir Richard will fight again. There will be little pay from him.”
I nodded. “Tell me, was there an archer with you by the name of Ralph? He would be a big man.” I smiled, “If he was my friend, I am guessing he would have had a run-in with Guy of Sheffield.”
That set them all to laughing. “That was Ralph, but that was not his real name. He said it was Harry, but he wished to be known as Ralph for he had run. He was the one who broke Guy’s nose.”
“He helped to train me.”
John of Nottingham said, “I have bad news then. He was taken prisoner.”
“Harry was taken prisoner?”
“Believe me, he fought well. He used all his arrows and fought on with his sword. He was laid low by a mace. I do not think he died. We were fleeing. The six of us, and two others, were lucky enough to capture horses. We escaped. The rest did not.”
I had gone from the joy of believing that my friend was alive, to the despair of knowing that he was a prisoner.
Chapter 6
I was heading back to Lord Edward’s men at arms’ camp when John found me. “Lord Edward would like a word with you before you retire.”
“Of course.” I wondered if I was about to be reprimanded for my actions.
He was seated on a chest, which had contained salted meat, and was staring into the fire. “I am afraid you will not have many archers when we ride to Tarbes tomorrow. Can you do anything with the handful of men you have?”
“That depends upon the target.”
“I have sent Sir Richard home. He will never be a knight again. He has lost the use of his left arm. He told me, before he left, that Gaston de Béarn has captured Bourg Neuf. It is one of the six citadels at Tarbes. It has its own wall. How the fool of a castellan lost it is beyond me.”
“You say that there are five others, lord. Are any close to it?”
“Yes, Gerald, Bourg Crabé. They even share some walls.”
“Then my archers can use the walls of this Bourg Crabé to rain arrows onto their walls. We can clear them as crossbows cannot. If they hide behind embrasures, then still our arrows will be able to hit them.”
“But there are only seven of you.”
“Actually Lord Edward there are only six. I am not certain how reliable Guy of Sheffield is. It matters not. We do not have to send them over quickly, just so long as it is a constant shower. It is like the drip which hits the same spot on the stone. Eventually it wears down. Men are not stone and they break quicker.”
Lord Edward still looked dubious.
“And we can send fire arrows over at night. They would work as effectively during the day, but there is something terrifying about fire at night.”
“I need something. I am loath to lose men storming the walls. I just need to defeat Gaston de Béarn. I am needed in England. The de Montfort brothers are causing trouble. This attack by Gaston de Béarn is to keep me here.” He lifted his head. “John.”
His squire came over and took out a purse. He counted out ten gold coins. Each was the equivalent of three months wages for an archer. “Lord Edward would have you bind the archers with these coins. One for each of the six and four for you.”
“It is too much, Lord Edward.”
Lord Edward laughed. “A modest man. Take it Gerald. If nothing else, it pays for the lives of the men at arms you saved. Tomorrow we will encircle Bourg Neuf and you and your archers can find somewhere within Bourg Crabé.”
I returned to the archers. Guy of Sheffield was not there. I cocked my head to one side. John of Nottingham shrugged. “He ran.”
I nodded. “Then more fool him, although I would not have wished him to be part of our company.” I gave each of them a gold coin. “This is the payment to secure your services. You receive the same each month.” Their faces showed their joy. I took out another of them. “This one is for whichever of you manages to set the castle alight tomorrow night.”
“Castle?”
I told them what Lord Edward had planned. It pleased me that none appeared discomfited by the thought.
John of Nottingham said, “And we will call you Captain. David, fetch the captain’s war gear from the other camp. It is right that the company of archers stays together. We are now a band of brothers.”
They made me feel welcome. I know it was not just because I had given them a gold coin. We were few in number, and, David apart, we were all English. More than that, they now served the future king of England. When my gear arrived, we worked out exactly how six of us would do what an army could not. Reduce a castle.
When we marched towards Tarbes, the whole army went prepared for war. We had a vanguard made up of armoured knights. Our baggage was protected by the crossbows. Our numbers had been swollen by the survivors from the ill-fated expedition. I asked John of Nottingham, as we rode, “If there are five other castles, why could their garrisons not reduce the one they did capture?”
“Numbers. They keep small garrison here, Captain. I think there must have been treachery, else Bourg Neuf would never have fallen. I know you are confident in what we can achieve, but Gaston de Béarn has large numbers of men behind his walls.”
I nodded. “Do you gamble, John?”
“I have been known to wager.”
I took out a silver sixpence. “I will wager this, that Gaston de Béarn is not inside Bourg Neuf.”
“A bold statement, Captain, what makes you think thus?”
“Last night, you all said that he was cunning and that he was thoughtful rather than reckless. Why trap himself inside a castle, where he could be captured and end his war? That is why I am confident. It will not be their leader. It will be some bold warrior who seeks to make a name for himself, and when we begin to kill his men, he will want to strike back. You have seen these two castles. How far apart are they?”
“A hundred paces at the most. They share a wall.”
“And if we hide behind the crenulations can their crossbows hit us?”
“No.”
“But we can hit them. The secret will be to keep up a steady rate. When we stop, I want them to think we have run out
of arrows. We will not. We will just be resting.”
When we reached Tarbes I saw why they had the defences that they did. Nestling in the foothills of the Pyrenees, the six towers formed an east–west axis with the centre resting on the cathedral. The walls were not ridiculously high, but they would need ladders to scale them. However, when we finally saw Bourg Neuf, I became almost numb with anger. The heads and genitals of the men who had been captured were on the top of spears. I looked down the line of heads. Some were unrecognisable as men. This would be my fate if I was captured. Then I saw one that was familiar. For some reason the face had not been disfigured. I saw Harry. My friend was dead. My archers also saw friends who had been killed. Their anger was obvious.
Lord Edward took off his helmet and rode with Roderigo and John to within hailing distance of the walls. “I come to demand the surrender of my castle. My father is the rightful ruler of Gascony and I am here to see that his property is returned to him.”
Their leader laughed. “I am Count Alfonso of Valencia! The heads of your men show what I think of you. When my lord brings all of his forces here, then we will rid Gascony of all Normans and Angevins once and for all.”
Lord Edward was remarkably calm. “Is that your last word?”
“It is.”
“Then hear my terms.” He raised his voice. “I speak so that all may hear my words. You have one hour to surrender. Any enemies of Gascony who remain after that time will be given no quarter.” He said nothing more and silence swept over the castle. He rode back and conferred with his knights. They began to organise their men and he came to me. “Come, Gerald, bring your archers into Bourg Crabé. We will see if your plan can succeed. For now, I see my enemy’s.”
John, his squire, asked, “Which is?”
I had seen it too. “They wish to make us waste our men on the walls while Gaston de Béarn brings more men here.” Lord Edward pointed to the Pyrenees. “They will come from that direction, and it will negate our horsemen. We need to reduce this castle and then make him break upon these walls.”
