Lord Edward's Archer
Page 19
As my eyes narrowed I saw that he was right. I spied the banners as the army snaked along the road from Ruthin. They were coming to the aid of Mold. Had another message been sent, or had this always been planned? It mattered not. “Dick, ride to the prince or Sir John. Tell them that the Welsh army is six miles away.”
“Yes, Captain.” He turned and galloped off.
“Come, Peter.” We rode back. John of Nottingham had secured the packhorses. “Each of you, take a spare quiver. Rafe, lead the packhorses back to Mold. We have a Welsh army heading down the road. We will try to delay them while the prince makes his dispositions.” Rafe and the other three archers leading the sumpters turned around and rode after Dick.
John of Nottingham said, “There was a likely place just back there, Captain. The road rises and twists. We can hit them there.”
“Good. Take half the men and go to the south side of the road. I will go to the north. Do not risk the men. When we have stopped their scouts, we mount and ride a mile or so. We will ambush them again.”
I led my men back up the road and we divided. We rode our horses up into the scrub and tethered them. As we went back down, I shouted, “Hide yourselves in the undergrowth, and wait for my first arrow! Did you hear, John of Nottingham?”
“Aye, Captain! We will await your orders!”
I chose a spot between two young ash trees and a hawthorn bush. The bush would hide me and I could send my arrow beneath the lower branches of the ash. My trajectory would be a flat one. I would aim at one of the knights. Knights did not ride with shields protecting their sides; they hung from their cantles. Their mail might stop an ordinary arrow but not ours. We would be releasing at fewer than fifty paces. Nothing could stop our arrows at that range. I could hear the horses and their riders as they ascended the slight slope. It was dead ground and we could not see them. That also meant that they could not see us. The first they would know would be when they began to die.
I saw the banners first and then the heads of the riders. This was the vanguard. From my experience, I knew there would be eight or ten knights and men at arms with their squires. Their task would be to spot an ambush. We used my archers for such a task, and we were better. I saw that some wore helmets while others hung them from their cantles. I waited until the knights were just twenty paces from me. I aimed at a large knight in the second group. He had a full-face helmet. There were holes to help him breathe as well as eye holes. A sword would not be able to harm him, but a well-struck arrow could easily pierce the eye-hole. The Welsh used hunting arrows, and they were not as effective against our knights.
Many men at arms and knights believe that the bow is a silent weapon. That is not true. Some bows creak when you draw them, but all make a sound as the arrow is released. There is a thrum from the string and then, almost a hiss, as the wind whistles through the feathers. My men heard those sounds, and their arrows were released before mine drove through the eyehole and into the skull of the large knight. His head was driven back, and he fell from the back of his horse. My second arrow was sent at the knight who wore no helmet; he was twenty paces from me. He had drawn his sword, but it would avail him nothing. My arrow drove up through his neck and into his skull. The knight fell dead. Eighteen had been hit by our arrows, and it was only then that a horn sounded. My arrow struck his mouth, went into his skull and came out of the back. Pieces of bone showered the squires behind. The survivors turned and rode back to the main body. I had no doubt that Welsh archers were already hurrying up the road to deal with us.
“Horses!”
That was all I needed to say. I joined my men in hurrying back to our horses. Welsh archers went to war on foot. They would be running to reach us and we would be gone. I was buying time for Prince Edward.
I mounted my horse and turned to head north-east once more. I saw that none of my men had been hurt. We had surprised them. I saw two of the Welsh horses galloping along the road. If I could, then I would take them. As the ground descended slightly towards the farmland, I halted and tethered my horse. “Here is a likely spot.” It was the last place we could hide before the open farmland began. I nocked an arrow as I hurried through the scrubby undergrowth to the road. This time we would not wait as close to the road. I found a steeper part where we could send our arrows down and they would find it harder to get back at us. I also waved my men to echelon to the right. This time we had to cover the woods as well as the road. We had told them that we had archers. They would know the danger was coming. I found a hawthorn which overhung slightly. It would not impair my arrow and would afford me some cover. I waited. As I did so, I glanced around and saw my archers, each choosing the best vantage point that they could.
I knew that we would not hear horses this time. They would have archers scurrying through the woods and the undergrowth to find us. The ones who came along the road would be the lighter horsemen from Ireland: muntator. These rode smaller horses than knights and men at arms. Their mail shirts just covered the upper parts of their bodies and they were not noble. Many of them were wild Irishmen and were not to be underestimated.
Robin of Barnsley killed the first Welsh archer. It was such a good strike that it killed him instantly. Both sets of archers heard the arrow but the Welsh had no idea whence it had come. I left my men on the slight slope to deal with the Welsh archers. Most were ex-outlaws. They knew the terrain better than any. I heard hooves and readied my bow. The horsemen were looking at the side of the road. My arrow drove into the neck and then the body of the leading rider. The one next to him was thrown from his saddle by an arrow from John of Nottingham’s men. These men did not run. They charged up, through the undergrowth towards us.
I nocked another arrow and it struck a man who was just twenty paces from me. I hit him in the chest and threw him backwards over his saddle. His horse came at me, and I flapped my bow before it and drove it south and west to clatter and crash through the trees and undergrowth. It would put off the Welsh archers. I just managed to nock and release another arrow as a second rider tried to get at me. It was a hurried strike, but the arrow went through his thigh and into his small horse. The horse reared in pain. The man was thrown from the saddle and the arrow tore open his leg. It was a mortal wound.
“Horses!” We had managed to slow them down again, and now was the time for discretion. As I was running to my horse, I saw a Welsh archer aiming at me. I was drawing an arrow and looked for cover even as he tracked my movement. I saw a beech tree. It would afford some protection. I lifted my bow and released just before I dropped to the ground. The Welshman’s arrow hit the tree. I nocked an arrow. I was listening for movement. I spied a rock. Picking it up, I threw it high to my left. As it clattered, I stepped to the right. The archer had crept to within ten paces of me. His head was looking to his right when my arrow went through his back. I had been lucky. I made my horse and mounted. I nocked another arrow. The rest of my men were at their horses, all except Hugh, son of Hugh.
“Where is Hugh, Matty?”
“Dead, Captain. The Welshman you just slew did for him.”
“Fetch his horse.” When this was over we would come back and find his body. We would bury it. It would not be left for the carrion.
The steep slope we rode led to a field which had been planted with winter barley. We rode through it towards the road. We waited for a few moments while John of Nottingham led the rest of my men.
“We have done enough. Let us find the prince.”
As we rode down the road towards Mold, I saw Captain Jack leading his archers. Dick, Rafe and my other archers were with them. Prince Edward had reacted quickly and decisively. The Welsh would not catch us unawares. Hugh had not died in vain.
I reined in and pointed behind me. “The Welsh are coming. We slowed them down. What are the prince’s plans?”
Captain Jack shrugged. “I know not. He was organising the men as we left. He only has knights and the levy left to fight. The men at arms suffered wounded and dead in the assault.
The castle is ours, but we do not have the army we would have hoped for. The good news is that we found a great store of arrows. Why they did not use them, I do not know. We can afford to use them without worrying about replacing them.”
“And our orders?”
He smiled and dismounted. “Slow them down!” He turned in the saddle. “Horse holders!”
I dismounted too. “The wounded can hold the horses.”
I saw that Roger Peterson and Matty Straw Hair had wounds. It would be better not to risk them. Between us we had thirty-six archers. It was not a large number, but we were the best. We had shown that already. We spread out in a long line. We all had an arrow ready. It would be nocked only when we had a target. It took some time for the Welsh to come, and when they did, it was the light horsemen again. They had spears, and these men wore the aketon: the padded jacket. There were thirty of them, and when they saw us they stopped. They might be fearless Irishmen, but even they would not willingly charge archers. They halted four hundred paces from us. They respected our range.
I saw one turn and shout something. A short while later, fifty or so Welsh archers ran from the undergrowth. They began to move forward. It would be a duel of archers. This would be a test of our skill and our bows. I believed we had a longer range, for we used a slightly longer bow stave. Captain Jack knew how far I could send an arrow. As the Welshmen moved towards us he said, “Try to hit one at your maximum range. I want them worried that we can all send an arrow as far as you.”
I nodded and nocked one. The Welshmen were running now. They had run hard. Even at three hundred paces, I could see them huffing and puffing. At that range, and with them moving, I would be lucky to be able to choose a target. Instead, I aimed at the knot of men running down the road. I pulled the bow back as far as I could. Even as it soared into the air I had another nocked, and I sent that after it, then a third. I had just released my third when my first arrow plunged down and hit an archer in the shoulder. My second went through the shin of another and pinned his leg. The third hit one of the horsemen, who had moved a little closer. He was also hit in the shoulder.
The Welsh archers stopped. The three wounded men crawled away. Captain Jack shouted, “Draw! Release!” The Welsh sent their arrows at exactly the same time. We were both finding the range. One of Captain Jack’s men was hit in the leg by an arrow. The rest fell short. Eight Welshmen were hit. Two of the hits were fatal.
“Keep releasing!”
We could afford to waste arrows. I sent arrow after arrow at the Welshmen. They had realised that we outranged them and were trying to move closer. As they did so, they came within range of more of our arrows. Even more began to die. Once they were close enough they sent their own arrows at us. It was hard to say who might have won the contest, had the light horsemen not divided in two and attempted to outflank us.
“Mount! We have done enough! Fetch the wounded and the dead!”
We did not want our dead abused by the Welsh. As it turned out, none of my men had been killed, but Peter Wakefield was bleeding, as was Ronan. I could not assess the damage. When we ran to the horses we did not run in a straight line. That was a sure way to end up with an arrow in your back! We reached our horse holders. The light horsemen were galloping towards us. I mounted mine first and slung my bow. I drew my sword and turned my horse to gallop towards the advancing horsemen. I was trying to make them turn. I managed to take them by surprise. What I didn’t realise, until we were close to each other, was that I was much bigger than they were. They had shields and swords, and I just had a sword, but I had a longer reach. When I saw them rein in a little I turned to my left and swung my sword, more in hope than expectation, across their chests. I struck none, but I had stopped them. I dug my heels in and followed my men.
Captain Jack had his bow ready and an arrow nocked as I galloped towards him. To some who were not archers, it might have appeared that he sent the arrow at me. But I knew that he was aiming at the horsemen galloping after me. I heard a scream and knew that his arrow had hit a man. Captain Jack gave a satisfied nod. “Between us, we have slowed them down. Well done, but that was reckless.”
I could not help grinning. I felt excited. “I thought they might slow up. I did not expect them to stop.”
He shook his head. “You and your men ride big horses, and every archer has a chest like an oak tree. You terrified them. I just hope that the prince uses the time we have bought him wisely.”
We did not have far to travel to discover what was happening. There was now a barrier of men. The fyrd had moved up and was now in a three-deep line. There were two large woods, and between them there were farms and then the road. In all, the barrier of men was about twelve hundred paces across. As a barrier, it was hardly substantial, but the Welsh archers and the muntators would not charge them. They would wait for the men at arms and knights.
Sir John and his squire were ahead of the levy. Sir John was smiling. “That was well done by both of you. How many are coming?”
He meant, of course, knights. “We saw a hundred banners. They were strung out along the road.”
“Arrange your men behind the levy. Our knights will deal with this.”
Captain Jack looked at me and then Sir John. “My lord, Captain Gerald did well, but if he slew more than thirty archers it is still but a small part of the force of archers they can bring to bear.”
“Then you will have to make sure that you kill more of them when the battle begins. Lord Edward is counting on you!”
We were dismissed. Sir John waved his arm and the levy opened up to allow us through. Once we were out of earshot Captain Jack said, “I do not envy you your master. At least Sir Ranulf values his archers. He would not expect us to do the impossible. We will lose archers.”
I shook my head. “I have fought these archers more than enough. They are good, but because they are shorter, their arrows do not travel as far, and they like to target knights. They will send their arrows to the prince and his nobles. They will die.”
“Are you certain?”
“There are many things of which I am ignorant, but Welsh archery is not one of them. My father taught me well.”
Captain Jack raised his arm. “Dismount. Take the horses back to the crossroads. Fetch more arrows. We have our work cut out for us this day!”
As the horses were led back I began to assess the best place to stand. We were taller than the fyrd, but when the horses and knights came our view would be compromised. I pointed to the wall by the side of the road. “I will have my men on that side.”
Captain Jack stroked his beard. “You will use the wall to let you see over the horseman.” I nodded. “Good.”
Just then, we heard the clatter of hooves, the creaking of leather and the jingle of mail, as Prince Edward led his knights. Sir Roger Mortimer, John de Warenne, William de Valence and Sir Ranulf followed the prince, and then there were another two hundred banners and bannerets. All wore the round helmet which completely covered the head. I knew that underneath would be an arming cap, coif and ventail. Their heads would be protected, but their vision would be impaired. The exception was Prince Edward. He had a bascinet with a small crown around it. As he passed me he slowed down. “You earned your pay today. Destroy the Welsh archers and I shall double it!”
“We will do our best, lord.”
As they passed I clambered up onto the wall. I could see the Welsh. They were arraying for the fight. I saw that they had three battles. Two were of knights, and the third was men at arms, led by a knight. Before the horsemen were the archers and the levy. I counted at least two hundred archers. Their levy was the same size as our fyrd. The Welsh had put the muntators in two groups on the flanks. They would be able to filter through the woods and outflank us. Had we had the men at arms who were now in Mold Castle, then we would have had parity of numbers. As it was, the Welsh had the advantage. The archers and their light horses would decide this battle.
Prince Edward had his knights in three b
attles too, but they would be outnumbered by the enemy horses. He was relying on the great skill of the English knights. I was more worried about the Welsh archers. I saw that they were fewer than three hundred paces from our knights. They could send two thousand arrows at our knights before they would be able to close with them. The Welsh king was sacrificing his levy. His archers would run behind the knights at the last minute. The levy would break up the attack of our knights and the Welsh would destroy them.
I jumped down from the wall and ran to Captain Jack. “We are doing no good here! We are too far away.”
“You are right. We need to be closer to the knights.” He turned to the levy archers. “Follow us, and stand behind us!”
“Yes, Captain.”
Captain Jack slipped his bow over his back. “These are men of Cheshire. They have to obey me. Archers, follow us. Levy, let us through!”
My men hurried behind me. We each had three spare bundles of arrows. We were burdened, but it would be worth it. As we passed Sir John he shouted, “You were ordered to stay behind the levy!”
“We have no targets, lord!”
Sir John did not know Captain Jack, but he knew me. “I hope you know your business.”
“I do.”
The two sets of knights were still weighing each other up. When they charged it would be too late. I knew that the Welsh archers would already be preparing to send their arrows into our knights. We would have to run after the knights and begin to send our arrows ahead of them. We would be releasing blindly, but the Welsh archers would not see us. If we could kill a quarter of their men, it would give our mounted soldiers a chance.
The squires at the rear of our lines looked over their shoulders at us. They each had a spare horse for their lord. I think they were surprised by our appearance. I heard our horns sound. I could not see it, but I knew that the banner now flew, and so long as it did we were honour bound to stay on the battlefield. I felt the ground shake as the horses moved. We ran and actually began to overtake the squires. They were struggling to keep their spare warhorses under control. As soon as we had covered one hundred paces, we stopped. I nocked an arrow and I pulled back. “Draw!”