Medieval III - Sword of Liberty

by Kevin Ashman

  ‘It seems fortune smiles upon us,’ said Gerald, ‘not only do we know his whereabouts but also that he seeks a great treasure. I would suspect that all parties concerned would pay a grand price to have possession of such an item.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Hywel, ‘and suggest our path is clear. We should head north with all haste yet stay in his shadow. Let him find this artefact at his own expense and when it is in his possession we will fall upon him and take him into custody.’

  ‘And the sword?’

  ‘I fear it is but a legend for fools, said Hywel. Many have sought it but if it ever existed, it is long gone. Focus on the reward for Garyn for it now lays within easy reach.’

  For a moment Gerald’s face remained unmoved until finally he smiled broadly and held out his arm.

  ‘Then we are in agreement,’ he said. ‘Let us rest well and be gone by dawn. This quest gets better with each passing day.’

  The following morning the column turned northward once more, heading for Caernarfon. Behind them in the forest glade, a donkey lay dead amongst the fallen leaves while above it, two hanged corpses swung in the morning breeze, one man and one boy.

  ----

  Chapter Sixteen

  Caernarvon Town

  A guard yawned as the first of the farmers led their wagons through the gated wall toward the market in the town centre. Behind him the huge castle walls stretched skyward, a dominating presence looming over the walled town. The sun had just cleared the horizon but the morning mist from the sea still hugged the ground like a heavy blanket. More carts could be seen further down the road as well as the expected heavy foot traffic bearing whatever they could to sell at the monthly market.

  The event was always well attended in Caernarfon town for though there was a permanent market available on a daily basis, the last day of the month was when farmers and landowners in general came from far and wide to sell their goods. Merchants also used the opportunity to bring their goods and many ships had arrived in the harbour the previous day, taking advantage of the high tide to unload their wares. Fishermen pushed handcarts of salted fish and flocks of geese were herded by young boys, all destined for Caernarfon’s market and ultimately the table of anyone fortunate to have the price.

  ‘It looks like we may be blessed with the sun today,’ said the soldier.

  ‘Hmm,’ nodded his comrade, squinting his eyes toward the horizon.

  ‘Could get busy.’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘I hate this watch.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Are you all right, Edmond? You seem very quiet.’

  ‘I’m fine, let’s just get it done so we can get back to the castle.’

  ‘Too much ale last night?’

  ‘Listen, Eurig, I did not touch a drop of ale and haven’t this week past. I just have things on my mind and would rather stay quiet so if you don’t mind, keep your stinking mouth shut.’

  The first guard stared in surprise at the ferocity of his comrade’s response.

  ‘I don’t know what you fret over,’ he said, ‘but I suffer such abuse from no man. You and I will sort this out later in the barracks and I warn you now, my manner will not be so accommodating.’

  ‘Think what you will,’ said Edmond, ‘my mind has no time for your drivel.’ He turned his attention back to the approaching traders and stepped forward to challenge the first of many he would see that day.

  ‘Hold there, traveller,’ he said, ‘I would see your wares.’

  The farmer stopped his cart and watched as the soldier opened the top of one of the barrels to reveal a pile of red and gold apples. He took one and bit into it, the juices running down his chin.

  ‘Good apples,’ he said. ‘I trust you will make good coin this day.’

  ‘Good coin?’ said the farmer replacing the lid, ‘the price has been lowered so much I will hardly be able to purchase half a dozen geese with the proceeds. The taxes of Edward cripple me and my kind.’

  ‘We all have our burdens to bear, farmer, move on.’

  The farmer led his cart through the gate and toward the town square. For the next hour the traders increased and eventually there was a long queue waiting to gain entrance to the walled town. Most were allowed straight through but some were randomly stopped as a check against brigands or poor wares. Behind them, a large covered cart made its way slowly toward the gate and Eurig stared at it suspiciously.

  ‘That cart is not one I have seen before,’ he said.

  ‘It may be from the port,’ said Edmond, ‘many boats docked last night.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Eurig, ‘it will be interesting to see what is so big it weighs the cart down so.’

  Edmond looked nervous.

  ‘Let it through, Eurig, the day is hard enough without unpacking wagons.’

  ‘I will have my curiosity appeased, Edmund,’ said Eurig, ‘you watch the gate while I check it out.’

  Eurig watched his comrade make his way through the foot traffic toward the lumbering wagon. Up above the gate, on the ramparts of the tower a third guard stared at the lone hill beyond the eastern gate. His eyes narrowed for though the sun often brought large numbers on market day, the amount of people approaching in the distance was unprecedented. He squinted his eyes and placed his hand on his brow to shield them from the early morning glare. Slowly his hand lowered and his eyes widened in astonishment. On the brow of the hill a line of riders had appeared and halted to stare down at the castle walls. Each bore a banner and the guard suddenly realised they bore the emblems of local lords, a display forbidden by Longshanks.

  ‘Oh saints preserve us,’ he gasped and turned to call down from the tower.

  ‘Eurig, you’d better get up here?’

  ‘He’s not here,’ shouted Edmund, ‘what’s the problem?’

  ‘Come and see for yourself,’ answered the sentry and ran back to the wall as Edmund climbed the ladder to the parapet.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked as he reached his comrade.

  ‘Look,’ said the sentry pointing at the throng now approaching, ‘unless my eyes deceive me they are in defiance of our King.’

  ‘It would seem so,’ said Edmund.

  ‘I think you should close the gates,’ said the sentry and turned to descend the ladder.

  ‘Where are you going?’ asked Edmund.

  ‘I’m going to sound the alarm, idiot,’ snapped the sentry, ‘the castle needs to know we could be under attack.’

  ‘I can’t let you do that,’ said Edmund quietly.

  ‘What?’ asked the sentry.

  ‘I can’t let you raise the alarm.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Sorry, friend,’ said Edmund, ‘but they have my family.’

  ‘‘What are you on about?’ demanded the sentry.

  The Welsh Lords kidnapped my wife and threatened to send her back to me piece by piece unless I gave access to this gate.’

  ‘And you agreed?’ gasped the sentry. ‘You have endangered us all for the sake of a peasant?’

  ‘What else could I do?’ shouted Edmund, ‘they have my wife.’

  ‘She is probably already dead,’ screamed the sentry, ‘and you are about to get us all killed for the sake of a false promise.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ responded Edmond, ‘I cannot take that risk, now lay down your arms and I will ensure we are treated well but I cannot let you raise the alarm.’

  ‘Not in a thousand lifetimes,’ snarled the sentry and reached for his pike but even as his hand folded around the haft, Edmund drove his own spear through the man’s back.

  ‘I’m sorry, friend,’ he said, ‘but my wife’s life is more important than yours.’

  ----

  Down below, Eurig had halted the large cart, oblivious of the drama unfolding above his head.

  ‘Your face is new to me,’ he said to one of the two men on the seat at the front of the cart, ‘are you new to this Cantref?’

  ‘We are, sir and hear Caernar
fon is a good place to sell our wares.’

  ‘It might be but that would depend on what it is you have to sell.’

  ‘Sides of fresh beef,’ said the man, ‘freshly slaughtered, our cart is loaded with them.’

  ‘I can see the cart lies heavy on the road but why are they covered in such a way?’

  ‘The day is expected to be warm,’ said the driver, ‘and we would keep the flesh from spoiling.’

  ‘Show me,’ said Eurig.

  The driver glanced at his comrade before getting down and walking to the back of the wagon.

  ‘Is there any need for this?’ he asked, ‘we risk losing the best place if we linger too long.’

  ‘I thought you said you hadn’t been here before.’

  ‘I haven’t but my comrade has and he said there is a square with limited shade. We would like to get the best location and any delay could cost us dear.’

  ‘Open it,’ ordered Eurig, ‘and be hopeful that I let you in at all.’

  The man hesitated again but Eurig lowered his spear to casually point toward him.

  ‘Is there a problem?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ answered the driver and reached up to unfasten the ties.

  As he waited Eurig became aware the crowd of market traders heading for the town had stopped and were gazing back along the shores of the strait dividing the mainland from the isle of Ynys Mon.

  ‘Who are they?’ asked a voice.

  ‘Riders,’ came the answer, ‘but there must be hundreds of them.’

  Eurig turned to stare and his mouth fell open when he saw a wall of horses galloping toward him along the flat ground between the hill and the sea. For a few seconds he was transfixed at the sight of so many galloping cavalry and the many coloured banners streaming from raised lances but his training quickly kicked in and he spun around to race back to the castle.

  ‘Stop there, soldier,’ said a voice and Eurig glared in disbelief at the sight before him. The cart was now fully open and he faced a man with a crossbow held tightly to his shoulder, the bolt aiming directly at Eurig’s chest.

  ‘Steady, Englishman,’ said the archer, ‘just one choice to make, live or die.’

  Eurig swallowed hard and stared at his would be executioner. Behind the man in the cart, he could see many more, peering out of the gloom.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Live,’ murmured Eurig.

  ‘Then drop that pig sticker and your sword belt and walk toward me.’

  Eurig threw his spear to one side and untied the belt around his waist, bending forward to place it gently on the ground. He feigned a stumble and though he was watched closely, the archer didn’t see him gather a fist full of gravel from the floor.

  ‘Now, very slowly come toward me,’ said the archer, ‘and don’t get any ideas.

  Eurig walked slowly forward but as he reached the cart, he hurled the gravel into the archer’s face while throwing himself to one side. The archer flinched though still managed to pull the trigger but Eurig had done enough to affect his aim and the bolt flew across the road to embed itself in the body of a mule. A woman screamed and as the beast reared in terror and pain, the cart it was pulling fell over, tipping its contents over the road. Panic ensued and Eurig ran desperately toward the gate, shouting as he went.

  ‘Alarm,’ he screamed, ‘send warning to the castle, we are under attack.’

  Within moments people were screaming and abandoning their wares to run as fast as they could toward the town walls. The crossbow man wiped the dirt from his face and turned to his comrades.

  ‘Get out,’ he shouted, ‘we are discovered. ‘Get to the gate and pray to God our man has managed to secure it open.’

  Twenty more archers jumped down from the cart while in the crowd, many more discarded their disguises and joined them as they ran toward the town walls.

  ‘Edmund, sound the alarm,’ screamed Eurig, seeing his comrade on the ramparts, ‘summon the garrison.’

  Edmund stared down at his long-time friend with a heavy heart but stayed still, watching the events unfold.

  ‘Edmund,’ screamed Eurig again, ‘don’t just stand there….’

  Before he could finish, a crossbow bolt smashed into the back of his head and out through his face. Eurig fell into the dirt, dead before he hit the ground.

  Up on the battlements, Edmund stepped back, shocked at the horror of his friend’s death and for a few seconds, stared at the corpse before looking up to see dozens of armed men running toward the bridge.

  ‘Dear God,’ he muttered, ‘what have I done?’

  He stayed a few seconds more but then made a decision and clambered down the ladder as fast as he could.

  ‘You there,’ screamed Edmund, indicating some men running over the bridge, ‘help me secure the gate.’

  Several people stopped and joined him, pushing the gate closed.

  ‘My family are still out there,’ shouted a woman, ‘please wait for them.’

  ‘We can’t,’ shouted Edmond, ‘or we will surely be overrun.’

  ‘But my family…’

  ‘There is nothing we can do,’ screamed Edmond, ‘now you men help me push or we will be dead within minutes.’ Slowly the gates closed and the men slid the heavy oak bar into the adjacent walls. Those people who had been lucky enough to get through the gate hugged each other in relief before making their way toward the safety of the castle. More soldiers ran from the gatehouse, pulling on their helms and fastening their gambesons before climbing the ladders to the battlements.

  ‘Where is the horn,’ one asked, ‘why haven’t you sounded the alarm?’

  ‘It is around Eurig’s neck,’ answered Edmond.

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘His corpse lies in the dirt the other side of the bridge.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’ asked the soldier, ‘twelve men cannot repel an army?’

  ‘I will get reinforcements from the flanking towers,’ said Edmond, ‘you get a message to the garrison.’

  The man turned and sprinted through the town as Eurig ran along the base of the wall toward the next tower.

  ‘Stand to the guard,’ he screamed, ‘we are under attack.’

  The sentry atop the wall had his back to him and did not move. Edmund increased his pace, forcing his body to the limit.

  ‘Stand to,’ he screamed again and this time the guard turned to stare down.

  ‘What’s the danger?’ shouted the sentry.

  ‘The eastern gate is under attack, shouted Edmund, ‘in the name of God sound the alarm and get men over there or we are truly doomed.’

  The man hesitated only a moment before turning and calling through a nearby doorway.

  ‘Alarm,’ he shouted, ‘all men to arms.’

  Within seconds, the sound of horns echoed across the town and soldiers emerged from the sentry towers all around the town walls. Edmund leaned on a wall to regain his breath. For a few seconds he allowed himself to think about his young wife and his face contorted in pain as he imagined the fate that now awaited her.

  ‘My sweet Elisabeth,’ he whispered through his tears, ‘please forgive me but I could not betray my fellows.’ After a few more breaths, he wiped his face, tightened his belt and ran back to the eastern gate.

  ----

  Madog looked down from the nearby hill, watching as his cavalry reined in the charge beneath the town walls.

  ‘Damnation,’ he muttered, the gate has been denied us.

  ‘It matters not,’ said Tarian, ‘it was always a possibility and we have prepared for such an instance. What is important is that we get our Mangonels in position as quickly as we can.’

  Both men turned to look at the line of carts being pulled by teams of farm horses at the rear of the army.

  ‘They won’t be ready until the morning,’ said Geraint, ‘but the hard work has been done. All the engineers have to do is assemble the parts.’

  ‘Still, the element of surprise is lost,’ said Madog.

/>   ‘Sire, it can be regained.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Place the first two Mangonels before the eastern gate and commence bombardment as soon as possible. Keep it up through the night to give the impression that our route lies there but in the hours of darkness, gather the remainder midway between the eastern gate and the next sentry tower. The walls seem thinner there and they are vulnerable to a focussed assault.’

  ‘Do it,’ said Madog and a messenger was despatched with the message.

  ‘Don’t bother with ladders,’ said Geraint, ‘we will go through the walls, not over them. They are but a minor hindrance and the main challenge will be the castle itself.’

  ‘Then come,’ said Madog, ‘let’s join our men in the assault for our blood is no more precious than theirs.’ He spurred his horse and with a hundred cavalry at his back, rode down to the levels before the city walls, a place now teeming with men at arms and terrified civilians.

  ----

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bristol Castle

  Longshanks strode into the great hall, flanked by his personal guard and made his way to the top table. Three men stood waiting and bowed as the King took his seat.

  ‘You were expected yesterday,’ snapped Longshanks, ‘and it is an irritation that you have made your King wait.’

  ‘Sire,’ answered one of the nobles, ‘the news is not good and we had to take time to ensure it was not mere supposition. It was felt that the need for accuracy outweighed the need for haste.’

  ‘Granted,’ said Longshanks, ‘but waste no more time in colourful words. What news is so daunting that it demands the patience of a waiting King?’

  ‘Sire,’ answered the noble, ‘it would seem the rumours are true. There is a tidal wave of revolt sweeping across Wales as we speak. Cardigan Castle has fallen on the west coast and a string of churches throughout the north have been burned and ransacked, including Llanfaes on Ynys Mon. We are receiving messages almost daily, requesting support from the royal forces to repel the Welsh rebels. Our castles at Howarden, Ruthin and Denbigh are all under siege and Morlais in the south is rumoured to have already fallen.’