Lord Edward's Archer

by Griff Hosker

  Noon arrived, and we ate at the fighting platform on the wall walk. My men were vigilant. They enjoyed being well paid, and more importantly, they enjoyed the honour they had been given. We had the most dangerous position to hold.

  Robin of Barnsley had good eyes, and it was he who spotted the banners of the knights as they galloped down the road from the mountains. He shouted, “Ware the gate! Riders approaching.”

  Roger de Mortimer, one of Lord Edward’s closest friends, was at the gate nearest to our castle with the best knights and men at arms. They would hold the gates while Lord Edward and his men entered. They would then defend the outer wall. We would be able to send arrows over the heads of our men. Crossbows could not do that. Crossbows lined the lower wall, along with men at arms. I wondered if the ruse had worked. Was Gaston de Béarn coming to take Tarbes from Lord Edward?

  “Robin, can you see who pursues?”

  He had no fear of heights, and he stood on top of the crenulation and peered south. “There are riders and many men on foot, Captain. They wear bright clothes, that is for certain.” He jumped down.

  “Then perhaps Lord Edward has drawn them here. Remember, we aim for their knights and their mailed men. Choose your targets carefully.”

  Waiting was always hard for me. I did not mind the wait of the hunt when you stalked your prey. This waiting was different. You could see your enemy. He grew in numbers, and he grew in the threat he posed. The unknown became known. When you hunted, you looked at the tracks and knew what you would find. When I had spoken with the sergeant of the castle, I had asked him of our enemies.

  “The worst are the Basques! They are not Moor and they are not Spaniard. They are neither French nor Gascon. They are like some mongrel who squats in the corner of this land. They are fierce fighters and they are tough fighters. If you defeat them, Captain, make sure they are dead. And watch out for their trick of jumping! They are like fleas. In their mountain country, they can jump from rock to rock like mountain goats. I have seen good warriors die to their jumping tricks. The others are those you may have fought before; knights, men at arms and Arabs.”

  “I have never fought Arabs.”

  “You did not crusade?” I shook my head. “Do not be deceived by the flimsy clothes they wear. Their cloaks, they call them bisht, have many layers and are almost as good as mail at preventing wounds.”

  “Our arrows can penetrate mail.”

  “Aye, but your swords, should you have to use them, are a different matter. Go for any flesh you see. It matters not if it is a hand or a finger. They are an easier place to hurt than the body or the head. They wear fine helmets beneath their garments.”

  It would be new and unknown warriors we fought. I wished we had more arrows.

  I saw the gates open and the knights and squires rode in. I saw that some were wounded. They did not stop in the outer bailey but carried on beneath our gate. Lord Edward lowered his ventail and raised his arm to me. The seven of us had an important job to do. We all hoped that the knights with Roger de Mortimer would stop the men of Béarn, but we all knew that it was unlikely. Robin of Barnsley said, “I see ladders. They are well prepared, Captain!”

  “So are we.”

  I nocked an arrow and waited. The outer wall was just a hundred paces from us. We could see men who were one hundred and fifty paces, but we had too few arrows to waste. When they scaled the walls, then we would make it a killing ground. I was able to watch the men with crossbows. They were a powerful weapon, but once they had released it seemed to take an age to reload them. While the crossbowmen did so they had to stand upright, and I saw some struck by lead balls as the enemy slingers hurled their deadly missiles. The men of Béarn also had archers and crossbows. Their bows were not as good as ours and their arrows were more like hunting arrows, yet they could still hurt a warrior who did not wear mail. The knights were safe, and most of the sergeants and men at arms, but the others began to fall.

  I saw ladders raised and knew that the crossbows had failed to halt the enemy. That was confirmed when the crossbowmen left the outer wall and sought sanctuary within the main castle. I saw a black-faced warrior stand on top of the wall. He had a mail shirt on. I released. The arrow threw him from the wall. It seemed to be the signal for the enemy to leap over in even greater numbers and for my archers to pick their targets. We kept the wall around Roger de Mortimer clear of enemies. The longer he and the other household knights held out, the more of the enemy would die. He and the other knights slew many who tumbled over the battlements, but further along the wall men were cleared.

  Lord Edward appeared next to me with John. “John, sound the fallback!”

  “Yes, Lord Edward!” He sounded the horn three times.

  “Captain, I rely on you to ensure that my household knights survive.”

  “They will.”

  That was easier said than done. As the knights began to descend, the walls were filled with a mass of men. We could no longer pick and choose enemy knights to kill. We had to kill those closest to our knights. We could not miss, but there were only six of us. Sending an arrow every few heartbeats, we soon made the enemy respect our arrows. They slowed and used their shields for protection. David and Peter concentrated their arrows on the men attempting to open the gates to allow in the rest of their army. Twelve men died before they managed to do so. By then, Roger de Mortimer and the other knights had entered the gates safely, which were slammed behind them.

  Lord Edward clapped me on the back. “Nobly done! I will go and speak with my knights.”

  I shouted, “Choose your targets now! Our men are safe!”

  I heeded my own words. I ignored the half-naked warriors who raced ahead of those with shields and mail. I aimed at the gap between the ventail and helmet of the warrior who had a red shield with a blue cross. He fell dead. My men did the same to other targets. They were fewer than fifty paces from us. To archers using the long war bow, this was almost point-blank range. As I aimed at the next knight who had a ventail, I could have chosen an eye and still managed to hit my target. Another fell dead. I saw another knight wearing a full helm. There was no ventail and no gap. John of Nottingham sent an arrow through the mail of his shoulder. As he dropped his shield, Robin of Barnsley sent one into his chest. A full-face helmet meant he was a rich knight and had experience. It was worth two arrows to end his threat.

  I heard shouts from below as the men who had just reached us were sent to the walls. Lord Edward, his squire and ten knights and squires joined us at the gatehouse. Already the enemy was bringing its ladders to try to take our walls. We were higher at the gatehouse. Their ladders would not reach us, but they could reach the walls which joined ours. As I sent arrow after arrow into mail that was just thirty paces from me, I saw the sea which threatened to engulf us. Had Lord Edward made a mistake by spreading his men out in seven castles? Our enemies were concentrating everything at us. Had he gambled and lost?

  I put my negative thoughts from my head and continued to send my arrows into the mailed bodies. I reached for an arrow but there were none. I looked around and saw that only Stephen Green Feathers had any remaining.

  “Lord Edward, we are out of arrows.”

  He nodded.“I have been counting. There are almost a hundred and fifty men who are dead thanks to you. If we lose this battle it will not be your fault.”

  I could not help but think that it would not make a deal of difference to us. Our heads would be on top of spears and Lord Edward would be ransomed back to his father. Henry might lose Gascony, but his son would live. I would die a rich archer. My father had died a poor archer, but he had lived his life. I had yet to do so. I had not even planted seed!

  “Archers, we fight as men at arms today!” Of course, we had no mail. We had no helmets and we had no shields. All that we did have were a pair of quick hands and a mind to match. They would have to do.

  I drew my two swords and moved towards the door which led from the walls below. That would be where the
enemy would emerge. I saw that now our arrows had ended their rain it was left to the few remaining crossbows, and they too soon fell silent. The men to our sides would be at arms on the fighting platform. It was wide enough for three men to walk along but only two to fight upon. With a fall to the inner bailey, if you slipped, there was no mercy to be found on the wall. We had the luxury of a rectangular floor. It was eight paces by six paces. Would the extra room suit the attackers or us?

  It was then that I saw a chance. I had never fought on a wall before. I saw that the men who came along to fight us had their shields on their left arms. Their right arms were next to the walls. They would find it harder to swing their swords. It was a small advantage, but an archer learned to use any he had.

  Lord Stephen and his squire stood to block the enemy who came through the door. They slew the first three, then I saw a pair of spears jab through and strike them both in the calf. The spears were twisted and the two men fell to the inner bailey. Although Sir Walther and Sir Ralph ran to seal the breach, they were too late. A veritable flood of men ran towards us. I was no hero, but I charged at the half-naked man who ran next to the wall. I saw blood on his sword and on his shield. His helmet, which had a nasal, was also spattered with blood. This warrior had killed this day. Even though he had a long sword and a shield I thought I had a chance to defeat him. I was wrong about the wall. It did nothing to stop him swinging. It just meant his sword came down across my body. My strength came to my aid. I used the sword in my left arm to block the blow. I saw the surprise on his face when his sword did not strike flesh but, instead, sparked off steel. I lunged with my right hand at his head. His shield came up to deflect the blow.

  As our bodies closed I saw his head begin to move backwards. I knew what was coming; a headbutt. I had suffered them in fights before, but this warrior had a helmet. We were so close that neither of us could use the edge of our swords. I turned my head as I punched at his head with the hilt of my sword. I knocked his head to the side and the pressure was released. As we both stepped back, I stopped thinking as a man at arms and began to think as an archer. I looked for the flesh. I brought my right hand from on high. Still reeling from my punch, he brought up his shield again. I stabbed upwards, under his shield, with my left hand. He was naked from the waist up. I guessed he was a Basque. I remembered the sergeant’s words. My sword travelled diagonally through the ribs on his left side. I kept pushing and twisting until I saw the tip emerge at his shoulder. Then I tore the sword from his body. He was dead, and his bleeding body fell to block the fighting walkway.

  Behind me, I heard Lord Edward shout, “John, make the signal!”

  A horn sounded four times. I had no idea what it meant. More men ran towards us. I ran towards them. I would use my speed and agility. I jumped the dead man to run at the next warrior. I was aware of my archers and knights to the side and behind me. It was a maelstrom of swords, shields and bodies. An Arab faced me. Enclosed in cloth he looked an easy target, but I harked back to the advice I had been given. His hood was down and he wore a pointed helmet with an aventail. He had, however, no ventail. I could see his face. I could see his hands. His armour was beneath the cloak and bisht. His shield was smaller than the ones our warriors used and his sword thinner. I was under no illusions. The smiths of Spain made the best of steel. His sword would not bend.

  He initiated the fight with a stab at my head. I could see why. I had no helmet and no armour. Once again, I deflected it with my left hand, and this time, did the unexpected. He anticipated a blow to his head and his shield flicked up. I brought the sword in my right hand over and chopped off his right hand. His sword and hand tumbled to the outer bailey. He looked at me in surprise and I backhanded him across the face with my sword. The blade smashed across his face. It tore deep into the flesh and the bone. The power of the blow knocked him across others, who were hurrying to get to us. With his spurting blood, he made the platform slick. He was going to be a dead man. His lifeblood pumped from his severed arm.

  Some of the enemy slipped. I heard Lord Edward shout, “Now, at them!”

  The knights rallied behind Lord Edward, and, with shields held before them, they began to march towards the enemy. There were Basques amongst them, and they tried to run and jump at Lord Edward. It was a mistake, for the blood and the gore made them slip. They were hacked and chopped as they lay writhing like beached fish.

  Then I heard a cheer from my left. I was next to the wall and I risked a glance. The men from the other castles had been summoned, and they were slaughtering the men who were trying to climb our walls. The signal from Lord Edward had been to initiate his trap. It was not over. Thanks to Roger de Mortimer and his knights, who had guarded the gate, none had gained entry, but we had our gatehouse to clear and then the fighting platforms. I fell in behind Lord Edward and his knights. I had realised that I was out of my depth, and my luck might not last.

  I found myself behind John, Lord Edward’s squire. I saw the advantage of his mail when a sword came from nowhere to hack at his shoulder. The mail held. As we closed with the door, the press became tighter. It was hard for either side to swing their weapons. Our own castle walls were working against us. It held them. I saw that John was face to face with a bearded Spaniard. I insinuated my sword between John’s body and Lord Edward’s. I angled it upwards and then I pushed. I saw the bearded face as my sword bit into him. His eyes widened and then blood came from his mouth. I pulled out the sword and his body went limp.

  John shouted, “Gerald, reach in and pull his body away!”

  I sheathed my right-hand sword and put my hand between Lord Edward and his squire. I found sticky blood and a baldric. I pulled. John and Lord Edward turned their bodies slightly, and the Spaniard popped out like a cork from a jug. I fell backwards with his body on top of me. That allowed the two of them to stab the man in the door, and they were through and onto the fighting platform. Pushing the corpse from me, I stood. In the moments that had passed, the knights and the squires, along with the sergeants, had left the gatehouse to pursue the survivors. There were just my archers, the wounded, dead and the dying left on the charnel house that was the gate.

  I saw that John of Nottingham knelt by Peter Crookback. I hurried over to them. I could see that Peter was dying. I could see his stomach laid open. He gave me a wan smile. “I did not get to serve you long, Captain. I envy John and the others. They will become famous.”

  John of Nottingham said, “Hush, Peter. They have healers.”

  He shook his head. “Do not lie to a dying man, John of Nottingham. You are a good friend, and I have served alongside you these two years. Watch over the captain. He is a good man to follow, and give my…”

  He said no more. The light left his eyes and my first archer had died. John closed the lids on his eyes. “He was a quiet man but there were none better.”

  “Captain, come, Stephen Green Feathers needs help.”

  I hurried to Robin’s side. Stephen had a wound to the leg. He had lost blood and already he was pale. I went to the Arab I had killed and hacked a long piece from his bisht. I ran back and made a tourniquet above the wound. My honey and vinegar were in my quarters. “Robin, carry him. We will find the healers. John, take charge here. You know what you must do.”

  “Aye, Captain.” The enemy wounded would be given a warrior’s death and their bodies searched. It was what archers did. I went first with drawn sword. The sound of fighting had moved towards the outer walls as Lord Edward led our men to eliminate all opposition. My caution was rewarded. As I stepped off the last stone step, a Basque ran and leapt at me. He had been feigning death. My hunting experience came to my aid. I had once been helping Sir Henry as a beater when a wild boar had leapt at us. I had dropped to my knee and held the boar spear before me. The boar had impaled himself. I did the same with the Basque. I held my sword above me with two hands and it entered his groin and his own weight drove it deep within him. I then used his weight to throw the body over my shoulder. It
cracked into the wall of the gatehouse but he was already dead. I rose and led Robin to the cathedral. There were healers in there.

  There were many men being tended to. The priests all looked busy. I shouted, “Aid, I have a wounded man!” Robin faithfully followed me.

  The nearest priest looked up and, seeing that we were archers, turned back to his ministrations. “You can wait until your betters are healed.”

  I know he was a priest but I was tempted to use the flat of my sword, which I still held, to teach him a lesson. However, it was not necessary for I heard Lord Edward’s squire John say, “You will tend to him priest, or I will whip you myself. Those archers are the reason we won!”

  “Yes, lord!” The priest hurried over to Stephen.

  I walked to John, who lay on the floor. He too had a bandaged leg. He shook his head. “It was a lucky blow. I had felled a Basque, but the man was not dead and he stabbed me as I passed. It will hurt in the winter for he nicked the bone.”

  I nodded. “I was told to kill the Basques twice. It is good advice. We lost an archer.”

  “Then that is a grievous loss. You and your men broke the back of the attack. Lord Edward said that you would. In fact, he relied on it so that he could draw them to the gatehouse and then launch the surprise attack.”

  “It worked.”

  “Aye, and now we return to England. It may be a month or so before we leave, but we will be going home, and then you will have to find more archers. Lord Edward has seen their worth, and he wants twenty.”

  I nodded. I now had a dilemma. How did I go back to England without telling Lord Edward what I had done?

  Chapter 8