It's quite a walk up the hill to the fortress. It's quite large and impressive. Wouldn't want to have to take it; that's for sure.
When I reach the gate in the castle wall there is a group of nobles and knight standing around and talking and laughing. They're mostly soft young dandies from the looks of them, do-nothing idlers going to war on a lark.
They clearly haven't heard about our clothes and stripes.
"Oh look, here comes one of the serfs I saw hanging about on the beach to get water. You there. Get you gone."
"Sorry, Sir knight, but my orders are to report to King John or Sir William Marshall," I say as I trudge past them.
"You, you there. Didn't you hear my order?"
I ignore the shrill call and keep on walking across the bailey toward what appeared to be the main entrance to the keep. I don't look back as I walk but I can sense they've begun following along behind me.
This feels like trouble. I instinctively flex my arms to release my wrist knives.
The gentry follow me but no one makes a move until just before I enter the door into the castle. Then I begin hear them making increasingly snide remarks to each other about my dress and impertinence.
They're just high spirited and baiting me. So I ignore them as I enter and make my way across the well worn stone floor to the priest sitting behind a wooden table with a stack of parchments. But that soon changes.
"I ought to whip you. In fact I think I will."
That's what I hear behind me with a rather threatening and arrogant tone. First my men and now this - it's too much.
With that I stop and turn around. The man delivering the threat is a big simpering fool wearing embroidered clothes and some kind of fancy green cap with a feather in it. He's probably some useless lord's son who is full of himself and used to bullying the serfs on his father's manor.
Enough of this ox shite.
"Best you keep your gob shut about whipping serfs, you fool - otherwise I'll cut your dingle off and stick it up your arse."
Then I turn back to priest behind the table and give him my name, but not loud enough for the dandies behind me to hear. They had stopped in surprise at my words and are whispering to each other with their heads close.
"William of Cornwall to see the king or William Marshal," I tell the priest.
"Ah yes, we've been expecting you, Earl William. Follow me please."
The priest leads me down a long corridor to a bare room in which a number of other men are waiting including a priest and a couple of men in foreign looking clothes. One of them has obviously just finished pissing against the wall.
Everyone in the room looks up hopefully as I walk in. But I'm not whoever it is they hope to see so they just stare at me for a moment without a nod or smile, and then drop their eyes when I stare back.
Then there are more footsteps and we all look up as the dandy in the feathered green cap and his followers come through the door.
"Did you name me a fool?" the bully with the green cap demands of me.
"Mmm. Yes I believe I did," I tell him as I turn to look at him. "But now that I've heard you and see you and your friends more clearly I think that perhaps I might have made a mistake - should I have named you a moron instead?"
Stay calm, William. Stay calm. Even so, I again flex my arms under my tunic to push my wrist knives up into place as my priestly brother taught me so many years ago. Four of them? I can take these four softs if I move first and fast.
The idlers being entertained by Green Cap just stand there and look at me with exaggerated poses of disdain and surprise.
They are obviously enjoying the spectacle and can hardly wait to see what happens next. They are all well dressed in bright clothes with feathers in their hats.
In a word, they look like lords' useless sons and I certainly do not - I'm wearing a sailor's cap and the same light brown linen tunic as the men they harassed on the beach except for the seven black stripes across its front and the back.
Green Cap couldn't resist being a bully.
"It's hard to believe you're here with your betters. But I'm sure you'll be effective against the French - They'll drop dead of laughter at seeing you?"
There were amused titters from the men he was performing for.
I was rapidly getting into a foul mood. I don't like gentry who bully serfs, never have. So I turned to one of the tittering and amused men and asked quite pleasantly with a nod of my head to Green Cap.
"I see you've brought your fool to the king's muster to entertain the soldiers. What's his name? Does he just suck your dingles or just do little tricks?"
"I'm George of Frodsham." Green Cap said furiously as he looked to his fellows for their acknowledgement and beamed when they smiled and nodded back.
"And you're lucky you're not gentry or I'd challenge you here and now and kill you. But you're not so I think I'll just whip you for your insolence."
"Oh but I am gentry, you moron. I'm the Earl of Cornwall and I accept your challenge because you interfered with my men and because you are, well, both traitorous and stupid and thus of no use to the king and his army."
"And as for the time and weapons I get to choose since you made the challenge, so let's meet ...."
I don't finish what I'm saying because there is a great stirring at the door and in walks King John and William Marshal. Everyone bows deeply and doffs their hats. The hostility in the air cannot be missed.
"What's going on here?' the King demands.
I answer quickly before anyone else has a chance to tell a different story.
"This man, Your Majesty, is a traitor trying to weaken your army. He just tried to stop my men from loading fresh water on your galleys and then he tried to prevent me from reporting to you."
"When that failed to stop me from coming to help you he insulted me and threatened to whip me and challenged me to a duel in hopes of killing me. He's no friend of you or your army."
"Is what he says true?" the King demands incredulously as he looks around. Everyone reluctantly nods including Green Hat. What a fool.
"We was just having some fun," one of them mumbles.
I saw an opportunity to end things in a hurry while Green Cap is just standing there in embarrassed amazement. He's a bully and he and his admirers are just now starting to realize that the results of their bullying may turn out to be very different than they expected.
"Instead of wasting time, this traitor and I could try the matter here and now and let God decide whose cause is just, Your Majesty - yours or his. Either way is acceptable to me so long as I have Your Majesty's complete approval."
As I said that I moved closer to Green Hat and poked my finger at his chest to identify him.
The king looks at William Marshal who shrugs his approval. I think they're both intrigued by what will happen next.
The King doesn't say a word, and then finally nods his approval.
"So it is all with your approval, Your Majesty, that God will decide this matter here and now and there is no felony if I immediately kill this traitor or he kills me?"
King John nods his agreement and I bow to him in return and turn towards my green capped foe with a friendly smile on my face and a shrug of my long tunic - and before he can blink my double edged wrist knives are out of my sleeves.
One goes into his neck from the side and other straight into his throat. Then I give them both a hard jerk to increase their cuts.
I hold him up by the knife handles for a few seconds and we look into each other's eyes. He has a surprised look in his eyes and doesn't know that he's already dead. Then I jerk out my knives and step back to prevent his spurting blood from fouling my tunic and shoes
He stands there with both hands to his throat and surprise in his eyes; and then he staggers a bit to get further away from me and sits down.
As I step back from him I doff my cap and bow respectfully to King John whose mouth and eyes are wide, and turn to the shocked group of dandies.
T
hey're standing with their mouths open and watching in horror as their late jester and serf bully falls all the way over on to the floor and his legs begin their final trembles. You won't be bullying and whipping any more serfs, will you?
After I bow to the King I turn back to watch the bully do his dying for a moment and then point to one of his friends, the one who seemed most appreciative of his efforts to bully me, and give him an order.
"You were his second. Get rid of this traitor's body and deliver his armour and horses to my supply party on the beach next to the dock before the sun goes down. If I have to come for them I'll be taking yours as well."
And then stabbing my finger in turn to each of the others I say "and yours and yours and yours - it's time for you lot to abandon your idle and traitorous ways and support your king."
Then I turn to the king and again doff my cap and again bow very respectfully and report in to the king..
"I've brought two fully crewed war galleys from Cornwall as you ordered, Your Majesty; and three hundred and twenty of England's finest sailors and my best two sergeant captains."
"They're the fastest and safest galleys in England and will be assigned to you until you release them. My sergeant captains and their crews would be honored to carry you safely back and forth between England and France."
Chapter Fifteen
William spends the next two months staying out of everyone's sight and mind while his two galleys move back and forth across the channel to help carry the king's army from Dover to Calais.
He does this by simply staying as far away from the king and Sir William Marshal as possible and avoiding wherever the gentry are congregating to seek the king's notice and favor - and by merely appearing to be one of the galley's crew members when he is on a galley carrying passengers.
It works. No one thinks to tell him to accompany the king's army when it marches into France so he doesn't.
@@@@@
William's tour of duty ends when the king decides to stop feeding his army and return to Windsor after decisively winning a battle with the French at Mirebeau. It was a great victory for the king at the castle where his French mother had been besieged and in danger of being captured.
Perhaps even more important to the king, and the reason he goes home to celebrate, is that his victory at Mirebeau greatly solidified his hold on the English throne - for in winning the battle he took many prisoners including his cousin Arthur who was the son of one of his older brothers and a rival whose claim to the throne of England is supported by the French.
He also captures Arthur's older sister who would also have a serious claim to the English throne if Arthur died. He never frees them.
As is the tradition of the day, when a king leaves a military campaign and stops feeding his army, the campaign is over and the army quickly disintegrates. Everyone who can make their way home does; those who can't either starve or become outlaws or join a mercenary band and travel to another war. William and his sailors row for Cornwall.
@@@@@
William's return to Cornwall early in August of 1202 ends a summer of boredom and endless archery practice to pass the time of day. He's pleased to be reunited with the sisters' and their howling toddlers, surprised to see how much George has grown, and happy to be busy planning for his annual trip to spend the winter in the Holy Land. This year he'll be taking Tori with him.
After much debate it is decided that more attention needs to be paid to Cornwall. Reports have surfaced suggesting justice is not being done properly in the courts of some of the hundreds and that serfdom has been reestablished in some of the manors and tin mines. There is also talk that the widows and orphans in some of the parishes are starving.
Administering the shire is too much for Thomas to do all by himself in addition to learning George and the ever growing number of boys in his school. He cannot, after all, be in two places at the same time. And truth be told, Thomas doesn't want to be responsible for the shire; he wants to run his school and be left alone.
After thinking about the problem and confirming for himself that some of the reports are true, William assigns the task of administering the shire this year to Peter. He's to stay in Cornwall and assist Thomas rather than going out to the Holy Land with William as he has done in the past.
Furthermore, when William returns in the spring Peter will go with Thomas to Rome to see how we pay the annual fee to keep the Pope sweet. Peter is becoming to William what Cromwell has become to King John - his key lieutenant.
What William doesn't do is visit Isabel at Oakhampton. He never learns that she is pregnant and more than a little bitter because he doesn't visit.
@@@@@
In the middle of September of 1202, after a pleasant month of enjoying the company of my extended family, autumn arrives and I'm more than ready to leave on my annual trip to the east. It's time to take our newly trained Marine archers out to the Holy Land and bring back the veterans who've been out there for more than four years and want to return.
Tori is going with me. She lost our infant daughter six months ago and needs cheering.
"I can go with you? Oh thank you thank you,"
And with that Tori runs off to share the good news with her sisters and begin packing all the various necessities she'll need to insure our comfort in the little forecastle of Harold's galley - bedding, piss pot, garlic cloves to ward off the pox, sewing needle, and so forth.
@@@@@
Our departure is accompanied by all the usual excitement and fears. Both Henry and Harold are going with me. As I look at them I realize that they've become grizzled veterans - and so have I. It's a good thing George and the older boys are almost learned up enough to go on active duty.
In the background Henry and I can hear Harold swearing at a couple of sailor sergeants. It seems he doesn't like the way they've had their men stack the live sheep on top of the dead ones.
"Stack'em higher goddamn it and lash them down better. The same with the cook's goddamn firewood. I don't want them falling over in a storm and blocking the path to the stern castle or to the shite board. And throw all them goddamn chickens except the egg hens up on top of the sheep."
"Harold's in uncommonly good form today, isn't he?" Henry said with a chuckle as we watch him pick up a stringer of flapping chickens and throw it at the luckless men.
"How are things looking, Harold?" I ask my lieutenant a few minutes later after we've stepped off the galley just before it begins drifting down to the mouth of the river. That's where it will wait for us until we come down on the last galley and finally climb on board to stay.
"Not foul at all. Not foul at all," he answers with a smile. "We've got an uncommonly good crew on this galley. I'm ready to let them go and check out the next one."
@@@@@
All the Marines including me seems to get seasick during the first couple of days. But then we get our sea legs as the sailors call them and it passes.
Rowing helps because it distracts the men's stomachs. Even I rowed for a while on the first day. Having Tori to rub my back and squeeze my shoulders and legs helps too. For some reason bouncing up and down at sea doesn't bother her at all.
Seven days later we lead two other galleys into Lisbon's harbor for our first rendezvous and a day or two of rest. We replenish our supplies of water and take on some additional food while we wait. Our missing galley and its embarrassed pilot and sergeant captain show up late the next morning.
Tori didn't mind the wait at all. This is her third visit to Lisbon and she loves shopping in its great market with all the many different things in its merchants' stalls.
As always she was quite well treated and is never bothered or taken advantage of as young girls sometimes are. The merchants made sure of that since she had coins to spend and some of them remembered her from years past. It probably didn't hurt that she went from stall to stall with me and two or three ferocious looking Marines watching over her.
I think the Marines actually hoped someone
would bother her so they could impress us with their response. Me? I'm content to watch her happiness and the way it makes the merchants smile.
Her smile is contagious don't you know and she came away with a new dress and bedding and all kinds of useless things - a new mirror, some newfangled scissors that cut hair and such using two knives that are stuck together in the middle, and a gift for each of her sisters.
@@@@@
Lisbon is a great port with many dangers to inexperienced young Marines. Henry's no fool. He only lets the Marines go ashore in groups of three and only during the daylight hours while we're taking on supplies and water.
One of them runs and his two luckless guarantors have to take off their tunics and get three hard lashes each from one of the sailor sergeants while everyone hoots and jeers. That's not too bad. Lisbon is a great city - we usually we lose two or three.
Then it's on to Malta and another rendezvous. This one is a port visit and a rendezvous we truly need. A storm so severe that it sank a couple of cogs separates our four galleys. We're the second of our galleys to arrive. The third came later in the day.
Then we wait and wait and get increasingly worried about the fourth. But it too finally arrives flying it spare sail - it got tossed around so much it somehow lost two Marines and the sail it started out with even though it had been furled.
And sad to say we don't see Brindisi, the interesting old pirate who been the lord here when I first visited years ago. He was missing when we were here last year too.
They say he's been arrested by the King but no one knows why or where he is. What's so strange is that the King of Sicily hasn't appointed anyone to replace him.
Chapter Sixteen
We have a joyous reunion on Cyprus with Yoram and the ever cheerful Lena and her ever growing brood of children. And then again with the Limassol merchants Aaron and Reuben. They've prospered with us.
We've all come a long way since those poor and desperate times more than ten years ago.
Our wide-eyed new Marines climb off and look around with concern and excitement. Lisbon and Malta had been new and wondrous. Limassol and our fortress is different and more important; if they survive this will be their home for some years to come.
The Archer's Gold: Medieval Military fiction: A Novel about Wars, Knights, Pirates, and Crusaders in The Years of the Feudal Middle Ages of William Marshall ... (The Company of English Archers Book 7) Page 9
