by Smith, Skye
"He can't march south, not yet. The battle scattered our infantry to all points of the compass and they took their muskets and pikes with them. Our cannons, almost all of them, were captured or spiked. One of our powder magazines blew up. We cannot take London with just Rupert's flying army, so the king must gather in his infantry, and gain more guns, and more powder. He needs the garrison at Banbury to surrender and surrender quickly. Once we control Banbury, the castle turns into a big problem for Essex. A problem which will slow him down."
What the lordson had said was true enough, for Daniel knew most of this already. This lad, this child, was repeating things that he had overheard from his father, who was one of the king's generals. Spencer Compton, the Earl of Northampton had been the general who had fought for, but lost, Banbury to parliament back in August. The general who had lain siege to Warwick Castle. But ... the lad was hiding something with all of these obvious truths. Hiding something far more important, far more critical, far more vital. What was it? The lad was born and bred as an aristocrat so therefore he would be skilled and practiced at lying and cheating. Skillful deceit came as naturally to him as raping shepherd girls.
"Not good enough," Daniel told him, and then to Angie, "Love, cut it off so we can mount up and ride to safety." His words brought terror to the lads eyes, but a query to the lasses.
"I don't know how to ride," she admitted sulkily.
She still hadn't bothered to find some way of closing her ripped homespun. It was ripped from cleavage to hem right down the front to it hung open like a cloak. Except for her hard worked hands and her gnarled feet, her skin was silky smooth. Her breasts were more than a handful and her nipples were rosy and pointed high. Daniel had to scold himself to stop staring. "You can ride my mare. She is gentle. Now get on with it. We can't pause long enough make a fire so cut just the head of it off and leave the stem so I can stop the pumping blood with a twist of twine.
The lad's eyes doubled in size as he pulled his knees up to his breastplate of finest light steel armour. So light that he hadn't even bothered to take it off while humping the lass. "No, please no. Not that. Umm, umm, what do you want to hear?"
"I want to hear something I don't already know. Surprise me."
"Prince Rupert is going to make an example of Broughton so that Banbury will surrender immediately. He is going to do a Magdeburg."
The name of that city made Daniel suck in his breath. "What is a Magdeburg?" Angie asked.
"It's the biggest city in Saxony," Daniel replied, "or it was until the Imperial Austrian army slaughtered every man, woman and child to teach the Saxon Protestants a lesson. Thousands and thousands were slaughtered." He would have told her a big number like 30,000 but since the girl likely couldn't count passed her fingers and toes, such a big number would be meaningless. "Think of slaughtering everyone in Banbury, but doing it twenty times."
The girl's eyes went wide in horror. "No one could do such an evil thing."
"Prince Rupert was raised in Germany, where the nobility kill for sport."
"That is an outrageous lie," William spoke out. "He is a royal and a gentleman and a talented leader. The few lives he will take at Broughton will save thousands in the siege of Banbury."
"A siege of Banbury will take months," Daniel interrupted. "I've walked the walls. I've been in the armoury. The wells inside the walls are good. Essex will chase the king away from those walls almost as soon as the siege begins. Cut him Angie."
"No, no, no!" the lad begged and squirmed away from the girl despite the sabre at his throat. "Please, please, I know something that you cannot know. The king has an ally within Banbury walls."
"Who?" There was no answer. "Who? If you don't tell me who, I'll cut it off with your own sabre. Now who?"
Williams face fell as he realized his blunder. Once the news was out about the ally, then of course the colonel would force him to name the man. "Were you at Kineton? Do you know about the company of cavalry who quit the rebels before the battle, and then crossed the field to stand with Rupert?"
"Led by Faithful Fortescue?"
"The same. Faithful's lord is Henry Mordaunt, the Earl of Peterborough. The Earl is inside Banbury castle as we speak, with four hundred of his men. They joined the garrison to help defend the castle against the king."
Daniel dragged the lad to his feet. "Get out of my sight," he spat at the lad. "Go and see to your wounded men, but just get out of my sight. The next time I see you I will do more than just shoot a horse out from under you."
The lad moved away up the gully, hobbling to save his bad leg. As he was turning the bend he stared back and yelled, "I won't be forgetting you, Colonel Lunsford."
While Angie tied the gathered weapons and William's saddlebags onto the saddle of one of the captured horses, Daniel reloaded his pistols. When they were both done he boosted her up onto Femke. Her skin felt as silky as it looked. "Just sit on her and let her do the rest," he told her, and then he mounted the best of the other horses and led the empty two down towards the village.
Femke eventually overtook the empty horses and when she had caught right up to Daniel, she wagged her tail like a dog. "What were you doing in the village alone?" he asked Angie. "Why aren't you with your folk? Where are they? Banbury?"
"Yes, in Banbury. We saw a lot of smoke this morning so I came back to see if our roofs were burned."
"Why you? Why not one of the village men?"
"They have all been called up to the Banbury garrison. Besides, I am a shepherdess so I know all of the paths and trails."
"Where is the fresh water spring in your village?" he asked as they trotted down the one village street.
"Just beyond the dry ford. See the big horse trough. The spring water keeps it filled."
The question had been a waste of breath for Femke had hurried her pace at the smell of water. All he need do was follow her to the village water supply. While the horses quenched their thirst in the trough, Daniel quenched his own in a raised stone waterway that took the water from the hillside to the trough. By the time the horses were finished slurping, Daniel had removed his cloak, pulled off his boots and britches and stood naked below the waist.
The lass looked at him askew and stopped her own drinking to mumble, "So you did want a turn with me after all?"
"Thanks for the offer love, but we don't have time. I just have to clean up a bit before we reach civilization." With that he laid his pistols and powder and purses and the odds and sods from his pockets on a handy stone shelf. After laying out his weapons belt and his chest armour with his other treasures, he lowered himself into the horse trough to wash his hands and face and his crotch. While waiting to dry he used some rags to damp mop his chest armour until the worst of the bloody muck and the black dust were off it.
"That's a strange way to get clean. What about your chest and arms and your pits?" she asked and then tut-tutted like a mother.
"I don't have time to get properly clean, but at least I can look clean," he replied. "And you'd better be washing William out of you.” He turned his back to her to give her some privacy but then had another thought, “Oh, and Angie ... Please search through those men's saddle bags for something you can wear until you can mend your homespun. Your skin is distracting me."
She watched him tug his undershirt back down to cover his bum. "Is that silk?" she asked. "I've never seen silk before." Instead of searching the saddle bags she moved closer to him and stroked the silk hanging beneath his belly.
The teasing was just an excuse to look at and feel the silk undershirt. This same touching had happened to him many times before. Women could not resist the touch of silk, especially women who could not afford it. "Behave yourself," he scolded unconvincingly. He didn't have time for her rude stroking, no matter how pleasant it felt, so he forced himself to pull away from her hand and went to search the saddlebags for himself.
She shrugged her shoulders, then loosened her homespun and let it fall to the ground and then shrugged her
shoulders again, this time more suggestively. When that did not bring him back to her, she climbed into the trough to wash herself out. "You're not such a bad looking fella when your face is clean," she told him. "For an old man that is."
"Old. I'm thirty and four."
"Old enough to be my Da." She finished splashing at her nether regions, and made a quick silent prayer that William's seed would now all be washed away.
The only saddle bag which contained spare clothing was William's, and he pulled out what there was out of it for her to see. There was just a linen shirt and a lightweight cape. She climbed out of the trough, shook herself like a wet dog and then took them from him. Her skin was blushing from the cold water and the cold air. She looked delicious enough to keep him staring at her as she donned the man's cream colored shirt, and as she belted her folded homespun around her waist to drape down like a long kilt, and as she swung the light blue cape around her shoulders and tied it in place. If she hadn't filled out William's shirt so well in certain places, she would have looked a bit like a Scottish highlander.
"Enough," he sighed at yet another lost opportunity. "We must clear out of here and warn Broughton before William or some other scouts can catch up to us. If we leave now we can still make it there before dark."
"We?" she mumbled and gave him a questioning look.
"How much was in William's purse?" he asked.
"I don't know. I've never held any coins other than coppers."
"So were they silver or gold?"
"Two small yellow ones and nine that were larger and of silver."
"Then you are a shepherdess of means, my love," he told her and then turned to fetch Femke closer so he could help her into the saddle. "And a pretty shepherdess at that. Now that you have a dowry, who will you choose to marry, love?" There was no answer. "Love?" he repeated as he turned around to look at her. Femke snickered. The girl was running along the road towards a poor looking church with a drooping thatch roof. At the church she turned and held the purse high up above her head and then blew him a kiss with her free hand. An instant later she vanished behind the squat ugly building.
"Bloody women. They don't trust anyone," he mumbled to himself as he got himself ready to leave. What else could he do. He didn't have time to argue with her, never mind catch up to her, never mind find her. As he adjusted his pistols in the holsters hanging in front of Femke's saddle, he convinced himself that she was better off staying around her village rather than coming with him. Here she would know all the best hiding places, and eventually her own folk would come and find her.
With three horses in tow carrying the kits of four men, Femke carried him towards the bridle path that led south away from the village road. So long as they didn't run into any more scouts, they should reach Broughton within two hours.
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Pistoleer - Brentford by Skye Smith Copyright 2014
Chapter 2 - A warning for Broughton in November 1642
They stopped for a rest on the rise above the village of Alkerton, yet another deserted village. Daniel had a good look around before continuing down the stream that seemed to lead from Alkerton down the sloping land to a large building which he assumed was Broughton Castle. There was a bridle path that ran beside the stream through thickets and wood lots, and this he followed to keep to cover. At the next deserted village, Shutford, he again mounted a rise to spy out the land. The stream did indeed lead to the castle so he kept to the bridle path.
When the path became soft under the hoofs, he knew the land had flattened and the castle would be near. Eventually he broke out of a thicket but his way was blocked by a flood. He rode south around the flood and found some high ground so he could take his bearings. The flood turned out to be a wide but shallow moat all around the castle. That would mean there would be only one way in ... over a bridge. He lingered on the high ground to have a good look at the defensive wall and then rode slowly around the flood to continue his appraisal.
This castle was definitely a very large manor house pretending to be fortified. The walls were too low to protect the house from cannon balls, and they did not even ring the house completely. At least the gate house and drawbridge looked formidable, assuming that is, that the draw bridge could still be raised. The walls of the gatehouse were of stone, but any modern cannon would breech a wooden gate within two or three shots.
The best of the defenses was the wide moat and the wide span of muddy land surrounding the moat. Unfortunately the high ground he was riding on was man made, and therefore a dike separating the east edge of the moat from a natural stream bed. Nothing that a dozen spades and a dozen strong backs couldn't dig a channel through to drain the moat. Daniel decided that at best this castle could hold out against Rupert for a day. Less if the devil prince had some field guns with him.
It wasn't until Daniel crossed the long stone bridge and approached the gatehouse that he realized that there was no draw bridge. Yes he could see the slots in the gatehouse walls where the chains to the drawbridge would have at one time run, but in these modern times, the drawbridge had been replaced by a stone span. A field gun would shred the gate within minutes, and then Rupert would be in.
The gate was manned, as was the crenellated wall close to the bridge. He talked his way passed the guards by waving the message that John Hampden had wanted delivered to Banbury Castle, but this only got him as far as the first guard who took the time to read who it was addressed to.
"You've got the wrong castle, mate," the guard told him. "Banbury castle is another two miles east."
"I need to speak with a member of the Fiennes clan, and quickly."
"Why?"
"Never you mind why. From reading the address on this letter you know I come from John Hampden. My business with the family is important and urgent."
The guard relented and motioned some other guards to watch Daniel while he fetched the master. A few moments later a plump man emerged from the house and stumped up to him saying "I am John Fiennes. How may I help you?" At least his words were friendly even if his raised nose and air of self importance were off-putting. He immediately snatched up the letter in Daniel's hand and read the addressing. It must have been provenance enough, for John nodded to him to tell the message.
"Not here," Daniel cautioned. "Where can we speak in private? Are there any other family members about? They should hear what I have to say."
"I don't like your impertinence, sir. If you were not carrying a message from Hampden, I would have you thrown in the moat. Perhaps I should in any case. You stink."
"Aye I stink," Daniel replied with an edge to his words. "I stink of blood and guts and powder smoke, and I came by that stink in the most horrible of ways. Now, are we to talk or am I wasting my time trying to save your life?"
John was still being obstinate, but the guard who had fetched him was not. Without a 'by-your-leave' he turned and hurried towards the house. "I'll gather the family in the hall," he yelled over his shoulder. Daniel fell into step behind him, and John quick stepped behind Daniel to overtake him and at least look like he was leading him.
* * * * *
Each of the three well dressed women facing Daniel were named Elizabeth, though they were all of different generations. They had listened patiently to his warning about the approach of Prince Rupert, the devil prince, whose flying army could arrive within hours ... but they didn't seem to fathom the danger they were in. John may have understood the danger, for he had no sooner heard the beginning of Daniel's warning than he disappeared up some stairs to fetch someone he called 'Old Subtlety'.
One thing that Daniel had learned from balancing two wives and two step-daughters was to never try to explain things to all of them at the same time. Now he chose the middle Elizabeth, kept her eye, and explained to her, "Rupert learned battle tactics in Germany, and his nickname, the devil prince is well deserved. His role in the battle at Kineton was two fold. He slaughtered carters, cooks, and water boys in E
ssex's camp, and he slaughtered the gravely wounded after Essex had withdrawn to Warwick."
"Surely not," the youngest Elizabeth interrupted. "He is a royal prince ... the son of the Queen of Bohemia, our king's sister."
"I saw him do it," Daniel growled, and then caught the middle Elizabeth's eye again and continued. "I intercepted one of his scouts just north of here. Rupert means to do a Magdeburg on your home and its village as a warning to Banbury to surrender without a fight."
"What is a Magdeburg?" the youngest interrupted.
"In polite terms," Daniel explained, "he means to use the German tactic of schrecken."
"I still don't understand."
Daniel had no choice. This was taking too long. These women should be on the road to safety by now. He had to stop being polite. "It means that they will first kill all of the men, and then they will gang rape the women, and then gang rape the children, and then kill the women and children, and then plunder and destroy this place." His words were answered with the silence of shock.
"Schrecken is the German word for terror," came a voice from the staircase. The voice of the old man of perhaps sixty years who was limping down it with John's help. "John, have the men harness up the sprung carriages and saddle up every horse. You women close your mouths and get into some traveling clothes, and be quick about it. We all need to be ten miles from here within the next three hours. Move! And don't bother packing anything that can't be quickly turned into coin."
Everyone scurried out of the hall leaving Daniel alone with the old man. He limped forward and offered his hand. "I am the baron, William Fiennes. I know your face young man, or rather, your stance. You are the captain of Warwick's navy yacht, are you not?"
"Er, yes, Admiral Robert Rich did charter my ship while he was inspecting the fleet." Daniel knew of the duke. He was William Fiennes, Robert Rich's long time partner in all companies and all ventures.
"And you arrived just now with a message from John Hampden?"
