by Hilary Green
‘Robert…?’ she said. But at that instant at group of riders broke free from the mass and started up the road towards them.
Brian grabbed her rein and swung the horse’s head round. ‘Ride! No time for questions now.’
They galloped on until she felt that all the breath had been knocked out of her body and every muscle ached. Within minutes the folds of the downs hid everything behind them, so that they could not tell if they were pursued or not, but Brian did not wait to find out. They charged through the village of Stockbridge, scattering dogs and chickens and forcing women to snatch children from under their hoofs, and thundered across the bridge over the River Test.
Brian shouted across her to Reginald. ‘There will be problems here. Too narrow, and the river is too deep to ford.’
‘Bottleneck!’ Reginald shouted back.
Once among the marshy fields of the river valley Brian slowed the pace a little, but they did not halt. They took the country lanes, skirting the still-smoking ruins of Andover, and reached Ludgershall Castle just after midday. By this time she was swaying in the saddle and Brian had to grip her arm to steady her. John the Marshall, given charge of the castle by her father, had enlarged and improved it and they rode into the spacious northern bailey with its watchtower and stone built living quarters. They were greeted with confusion. The steward rushed to her horse’s side, babbling excuses for his lack of preparation. She was too weary to speak and Brian answered for her.
‘The Empress understands. We know you had no warning of our arrival. Where is Sir John? Is he still at Wherwell?’
‘No, sire.’ The man shook his head as if struggling to take in what was happening. ‘He is here, but in a parlous state. He is but newly arrived and sore wounded. But come inside. He will wish to greet you even so.’
She was so stiff that Brian had to almost drag her from her horse and support her up the steps into the great hall. Here there was more confusion, as servants and pages ran backwards and forwards. John fitz Gilbert was sitting on a stool, his head and one eye swathed in bandages, while his wife knelt at his side bathing his hands. She scrambled to her feet as they entered and sank into a curtsey.
‘My lady, we did not expect …’
‘I know. It is no great matter.’ With an effort she focused her mind. ‘Tell me what has happened.’
‘Bring a chair for the empress!’ Brian ordered. ‘And wine. Can you not see she is close to exhaustion?’
A chair was brought and a page offered wine and water. She sat wearily and repeated her question. ‘You were at Wherwell. What happened?’
John’s voice was cracked with pain and he was shaking. ‘Madam, I fear I have let you down. Wherwell is lost.’
‘What of that?’ Her tone was bitter. ‘So is Winchester, a far greater loss. But tell me how.’
‘We sallied out, as Lord Robert asked, but we could not stand against d’Ypres’s forces. We fought hard but we were forced back and took refuge in the church. That impious man …’ He broke off, breathing hard. ‘He ordered his men to fire the church.’
‘To fire a place of sanctuary!’ Brian exclaimed in horror. ‘Is there no end to that man’s evil?’
‘What did you do?’ she asked.
‘We held on as long as we could, but the heat was so great that the lead on the roof began to melt.’ He raised a hand to the bandage round his head. ‘Some fell on my face. My eye is gone, I fear. I remember little of what followed. Most of my men surrendered or were captured, but someone got me onto a horse and I was able to escape. I reached here only moments before you.’
‘And the nuns?’
‘All I know is that they fled screaming from the church. What happened to them afterwards I cannot tell you.’
She bowed her head. ‘All this is at my door. I have much to answer for.’
Brian put a hand on her arm. ‘The sin is d’Ypres’s, not yours. Do not distress yourself.’ He straightened up and turned to John’s wife. ‘I know that all this has come upon you very suddenly, but we shall not trouble you for long. Tomorrow we ride on to Devizes. For today, the Empress is in great need of rest. Can you provide a bed and a woman to attend her?’
‘Of course. Madam, if you will come with me?’
Matilda allowed herself to be led up to a room above the hall, where the great bed suggested that in quieter times this was the bedchamber of the lord and lady. Warm water was brought, and she was helped out of her mail and her man’s clothes and her bruises and blisters were washed and anointed with a balm of some sort. By now her head was swimming and although she had eaten nothing since the previous day, and that a scanty meal, she was unable to swallow the broth that was brought to her. She climbed into the bed and fell into a supine state which was more like a trance than sleep, from which she was frequently jerked into wakefulness by the illusion that she was still on horseback and about to fall. Towards nightfall someone brought more broth and fresh bread and she managed to eat a little, and then at last fell properly asleep.
She was woken at dawn. ‘Sir Brian begs that you will dress and be ready to ride again within the hour. He is anxious to reach Devizes as soon as possible.’
She swung her legs out of bed and cried out in pain. Every muscle in her body had stiffened. She had to grit her teeth to stand and when the woman sent to attend her tried to help her into her riding clothes, she almost broke down in tears. She staggered down the stairs to where Brian was waiting.
He regarded her with concern. ‘Are you well enough to ride on?’
‘I do not understand what is wrong with me. I have always been so strong but lately …’ She stopped and forced a smile. ‘Of course I can ride. Let us be on our way.’
‘You must eat something first,’ he said, and she forced herself to swallow a few mouthfuls of bread and some small ale.
As soon as she had finished, he helped her onto the big destrier and they rode out of the castle gates, surrounded by her knights. After a few miles she felt that the stiffness was wearing off, but then the pain in her back grew worse and she could tell that the blisters on her thighs from friction with the saddle had burst. She clamped her jaws together to stop herself from crying out, but suddenly there was a buzzing in her ears and her vision grew hazy. Dimly she heard Brian at her side.
‘Madam? What is amiss? Are you …’ Then in a loud command. ‘Halt!’
The cavalcade stopped and he jumped from his horse and came to her side. He was just in time to catch her as she toppled from the saddle. She tried to stand, but her legs gave way and she collapsed into his arms.
‘Forgive me! I am a burden to you. I have never believed myself weak but …’
‘It is a burden I shoulder willingly. I would carry you to the ends of the earth if need be.’
He lifted her in his arms and carried her to a grassy bank beside the road. She was dimly aware that he was issuing orders and there was a bustle of activity. Then she slipped into unconsciousness. When she came to he was leaning over her.
‘Come. We have made a litter to be carried between two horses.’
The litter was a ramshackle affair. It seemed they had felled two saplings and somehow woven a mesh of leather belts and spare saddle girths between them and then padded them with their cloaks. He lifted her and laid her in it and wrapped another cloak tightly around her. ‘There. Be at ease. We shall be safe in Devizes castle by nightfall.’
All through the journey she was only semi-conscious and when they reached Devizes she was carried upstairs and put to bed. That night she slept dreamlessly and when she woke the following morning her head had cleared and the pains in her muscles were less. Even so, she had to force herself to get out of bed. She allowed herself to be dressed in a borrowed gown and went down to the hall, where Brian and Reginald awaited her.
‘What news?’ she asked. ‘Have Miles or Robert arrived?’
‘Not yet,’ Brian said. ‘But it is early yet. We travelled fast and it will take them some time to catch up. We can res
t now and wait for them.’
Devizes was one of the strongest castles in the country and had been under her control since John the Marshall took it from the mercenary Fitz Hubert. It was unlikely that William d’Ypres would attempt to attack it. She was safe, but the only thought in her mind was the fate of the companions she had left behind. She could not forget that brief glimpse of the desperate fighting on the road. She asked to be taken to a room from which she could watch the approaches to the castle. Brian sat with her and attempted to divert her with stories and poems, but even he found it hard to concentrate. It was well past midday when they saw three horsemen plodding towards the castle gate.
‘Only three?’ she said.
‘Sent ahead with news for you, I expect.’
She hurried down to the hall and the three were brought to her. They were unarmed and covered in mud. One had a deep cut across his forehead and the right arm of another hung useless, the sleeve stiff with blood. The third, the youngest, seemed unhurt but his staring eyes and white face told their own story. She recognized them as men-at-arms from Miles’s household.
‘What news?’ she asked. ‘Where are the others?’
The eldest bowed his head. ‘I cannot tell you, my lady. Are there no others here?’
‘You are the first. I don’t understand. Did you flee from the battle?’
‘Only when all was lost, my lady. I beg you to believe that.’
‘All lost? What are you saying?’
‘Forgive me, madam, for bringing bad news. The army is destroyed. To begin with it seemed we might break through and escape, but there were too many against us. The way ahead was blocked and the fighting spread out over the fields on either side. I fought until this happened –’ He indicated the cut on his head ‘– then it bled so much that I could not see, and when I finally managed to staunch it the battle had passed on and there were only the wounded and the dead around me. I found Giles, here –’ With a nod to the second man ‘– and helped to bind up his wound. Then we came across this lad. I don’t think he is hurt but he hasn’t spoken a word since we met up with him. Anyway, we decided our best course was to make for Ludgershall. It was no good trying to cross the river at Stockbridge. It was clear that the road there was controlled by the enemy. So we made our way across country, looking for another bridge, but there was none. In the end we had to swim for it. We had no choice. We threw down our weapons and swum for our lives. When we reached Ludgershall they told us you were on your way here, so we came on.’ His shoulders sagged. ‘You may brand us cowards. Perhaps we should have stayed and fought to the death.’
‘No.’ She spoke with unusual gentleness. ‘What use to me are dead men? It was better to save yourselves than die uselessly. But tell me. Did you see what became of Sir Miles?’
‘I saw him just before I was wounded. He was still fighting, but he had been unhorsed. I fear he may not have survived.’
She clenched her fists and bit back tears. ‘We must pray that you are mistaken. And Lord Robert, what of him?’
‘I do not know, my lady. He was with the rearguard. I did not see him.’
‘Go and have your wounds tended and get some rest. Others may bring better news.’
All through the day the remnants of the army staggered in, bloodied and exhausted. To each group she put the same questions, but no one could give her any news of either Miles or Robert. It was almost dark when a lone rider came into the courtyard and almost fell from his weary horse. When he was brought before her she recognized him as one of Robert’s household knights. He collapsed to his knees, and she bent over and shook him by the shoulder.
‘Sir Richard? What has happened? Where is Lord Robert?’
‘Lost!’ His voice was a croak and he passed his tongue over cracked lips. She looked round for a page.
‘Bring water! Can you not see this man is in desperate need?’
Brian was there already. He knelt by the knight and held a cup to his lips. He sipped, choked, then drained the cup. Brian helped him to a stool.
‘Now,’ he said. ‘Tell us the worst.’
She felt a wave of cold despair engulf her. Miles and Robert both gone! Her closest friends and the rocks upon which she had founded her hopes.
With an effort Sir Richard straightened his shoulders. ‘We held the road out of the city as long as we could, to allow the rest of the army to leave. Then we rode after you, but d’Ypres pursued us and when we got to Stockbridge we had to stand and fight.’ He paused and Brian handed him a second cup. He moistened his lips and went on. ‘It was carnage! The bridge was clogged with men and horses from the main army. Some men jumped into the river, but they were weighed down by their armour. I saw men drowning – and the bodies of those already dead. When Lord Robert saw what was happening he ordered us to block the road, to give the rest a chance to escape. There was a place where it narrowed, between two houses. We took our stand there and he ordered us to dismount and form a shield wall. We held them back for some time, but there were so many. For every man we killed or disabled, another took his place. Then they got archers up onto the roof of one of the houses and our own knights started to fall. In the end there were four of us, myself, Lord Robert and two others.’
His head sank down as if he would fall asleep where he sat. She leant towards him. ‘Go on! Go on!’
He sat up and swallowed more water. ‘I do not remember clearly what happened. Something hit me, here.’ He raised a hand to his temple where a dark bruise covered the side of his face. ‘I went down, but the last thing I saw was Lord Robert surrounded by four or five of the enemy. He yielded and gave up his sword and they took him away.’
‘A prisoner!’ She gasped with relief. ‘Not dead, a prisoner?’
‘He still lived when I last saw him.’
‘How did you get away?’ Brian asked gently.
‘I think I lost consciousness. When I was next aware, the battle was over. Men were stripping the dead and looting the bodies. One came to me, thinking I was dead too, but I drew my dagger and thrust at him. I do not think I killed him but he staggered back and I got to my feet and ran. The bridge was clear by this time. I ran until I could run no further. It was getting dark and somehow I missed the road and found myself wandering among the marshes. In the end I lay down under a bush and I must have slept. A fisherman found me at dawn and took me back to his cottage. His wife let me sit by the fire and gave me some pottage, but she was afraid of what might happen if Stephen’s men found me. She had seen riders searching the roads for fugitives and she would not let me stay long. I wandered for the rest of the day, trying to find my way. Several times I had to hide from Stephen’s soldiers. Then, when I was almost exhausted, I found a riderless horse and managed to catch it. Some peasants put me on the right road. They told me they had seen you passing – but madam …’ He looked up at her as if startled by a sudden memory ‘… they told me you must be dead. They said you were carried in a coffin.’
‘As you see, they were wrong. But I was very sick and carried in a litter. Finish your story.’
‘There is little more to tell. I am truly sorry, my lady, not to be the bearer of better news.’
She exchanged glances with Brian. ‘You have brought me more comfort than I expected. At least we know now that Lord Robert is alive. But what of your comrades? Did none of them survive?’
‘I cannot tell. I saw the bodies of three but I did not stay to count the others. It may be that some were only wounded and have got away, as I did.’
‘We must pray that they did. Go now. You have fought nobly.’ She looked to her steward who was hovering nearby. ‘See that his wounds are dressed and he is given food and drink and somewhere to sleep.’
‘I will, madam.’
She looked from her position on the dais into the body of the hall. Already the space was almost filled with men, some of them asleep on straw palliases, others seated along the walls. Most of them showed evidence of freshly bandaged wounds; some groaned and wh
impered, but there was little conversation. Pages and serving women moved among them, offering food and wine. Once again she caught Brian’s eye. There was much to do. Tomorrow some sort of order must be wrested from the chaos of defeat. Devizes could not cope with all the wounded for long, and there might be others who had sought sanctuary elsewhere.
She said, ‘Tomorrow we must go on to Gloucester. Those who are fit to travel will come with us. The rest must stay here until they are ready. Once we get there we can begin to make plans.’
He smiled at her. ‘It is good to see you ready to take command again. But for tonight you must rest, or you will not be fit to travel yourself.’
She got up. ‘You are right.’ Then she turned back to him. ‘They will not hurt Robert, will they?’
He shook his head. ‘No. He is far too valuable a hostage to be harmed. They will want to negotiate a ransom.’
‘I will pay whatever they ask.’
‘I know that.’ His expression grew sombre. ‘But it may not be a matter of gold and silver.’
They travelled on as she had decreed, a slow-moving convoy of foot soldiers and horses and wagons carrying the wounded, protected on both flanks in case of ambush by those knights still able to ride and wield a lance. She travelled in one of the wagons, thankful that she did not have to ride. They were met at the gates of Gloucester Castle by Miles’s wife, Sibyl. A messenger had been sent ahead to warn her of their arrival but he had been told to say nothing about the battle or its outcome. Sibyl curtsied as Matilda descended from the wagon, but her eyes were searching the ranks of knights escorting her.
