by Clint Dohmen
The king fell to the ground and lived a few moments longer as numerous instruments of war battered his skull. He did not grimace from the pain or cry out for mercy. He stared up at his tormentors with fury until he drew his last breath.
1030
Lord Oxford’s Left Flank
The cheering traveled like a cresting wave up Lord Oxford’s lines, finally reaching the battered but steadfast Lancastrians on the left flank. Word passed: the Stanleys had joined the fight for Henry, and King Richard was dead.
As this news reached the left flank, Neno and the Lancastrian spears joined in the attack on the Yorkist cavalry. Tired though he was from the long run after Simon, Neno swung his naginata effortlessly, unhorsing riders and dispatching them one after the other. The Yorkist cavalry fought on briefly, but when no help came from the Yorkist foot soldiers, their will failed them. They sped back towards the dead king’s lines with vengeful Lancastrians and a very large Venetian in hot pursuit.
Chapter 45
ONCE THE RUNNING started, there was no stopping it. Richard’s forces were broken. There was a mad dash for the horses at the rear with no regard for whose was whose. The Lancastrian cavalry on Oxford’s left flank poured into the fleeing Yorkists, spitting men on their lances and cleaving them down from behind with swords and axes. With their retreat towards Ambion Hill cut off by the Lancastrian cavalry, most of the Yorkists opted to run towards Lord Stanley’s recently vacated position on Dadlington Hill.
Lord Strange was, to put it mildly, extremely relieved to see Richard’s men come streaming towards them. He looked in his captors’ eyes to gauge if they intended to take a measure of revenge for their reversal in fortune, but he saw neither malice nor mischief there.
One of the noblemen spoke. “We preserved your head against direct orders from a king. I hope that when the reckoning comes, you will remember that.”
Lord Strange dipped his head as a measure of respect. He had no personal animosity towards his captors, but when the throne changed hands, it rarely did so without one side avenging itself upon the other. He could not speak for his new king.
“I will mention you favorably should the occasion arise.” And with that, his captors fled. Lord Strange rode to find his father and his new king.
Lord Northumberland saw the lone riders galloping towards his position and wondered if Richard was coming for him, but as the riders drew closer, he knew what was happening. The riders were indeed Richard’s men, but they were not bringing messages nor the wrath of Richard; they were fleeing for their lives. Northumberland rode forward to meet one of the riders.
“What news?”
“Richard is dead. The traitorous Stanleys have sided with Henry. All is lost.”
It was not news that Northumberland had hoped to hear, but it was not news that he was unprepared to hear either. He had been right to hold where he was and spare his troops from being slaughtered. His future prospects were not bright under a Lancastrian king, but it was better than being dead.
“Prepare to withdraw, column formation! We return north.” Northumberland ordered his men into an orderly retreat, and soon they were on the road back to his lands in the north of England, unbloodied and ungloried, but alive.
It had not taken long for Richard III’s dead corpse to be stripped naked by peasants eager to find something of value, but there was one item they did not dare take.
William Stanley noticed a golden flicker in the midst of the deep green leaves and red berries of a hawthorn bush. Leaning over to investigate, he emerged with the crown that Richard had worn into battle. “Your Majesty, I believe this is yours.”
“Thank you, William. I appreciate the support you and your brother have given me.” Henry meant this, but also prayed that his fate would never again be decided by the whim of the Stanley family. “You will be well rewarded, but for now, let us leave this interminable marsh to the flies and gnats so I may be crowned properly.” Henry then gestured at Richard’s broken, naked body. “Throw that on a horse and take it back to Leicester for display. Any man in England who doubts his death may be allowed to view the body.”
On the top of a hill outside the village of Stoke Golding, Simon could see Henry’s standard waving in the light breeze. Having left Neno at an inn to recover from his herculean efforts and marathon runs across the battlefield, Simon had walked with Kojiro up the hill to observe the proceedings.
As Kojiro and Simon neared the outer circle of men, they observed Lord Stanley placing the crown on Henry’s head.
“Long live the King!”
The shout sprang as one from all assembled and spread down the hill like wildfire. Soon the cry echoed back from across the bloody fields of combat. Everywhere the victorious Lancastrians raised swords and pikes to the sky and reveled in their long awaited triumph. The reign of Henry VII and the House of Tudor had begun.
Dai Evans had helped kill a king, and for that Lord Fellowes and Rhys Ap Thomas had allowed him to take the king’s armor. Dai would never wear it, of course. Not only was it custom fit for King Richard, a man smaller than Dai himself, but it was worth a small fortune. In spite of the damage done to it, it was possibly the finest armor in the country, and Dai would be able to purchase his own land because of it. Dai was going home to his wife to tell her they would be landowners. He looked over at Howell straining to carry a large sack filled with battlefield loot. “You’ll never make it back to Wales carrying all of that.”
Howel merely smirked. “Watch me.”
Chapter 46
One Day Later
JASPER ENTERED THE elaborately carved Norman door of St. Mary de Castro, attached to Leicester Castle. He looked down the magnificent south aisle and saw the decomposing body of Richard lying naked on a soiled white cloth in a pig trough. Richard looked powerless and feeble, which was the point.
Feeble, Jasper thought. He smiled at the ironies and synchronicities of life. Feebleness was the cause of this damn war in the first place, he thought. Henry VI with his mental illness and feeble leadership caused the collapse of the House of Lancaster and the rise of the House of York. And it was in this church, St. Mary de Castro, where Henry VI was knighted as a child.
Jasper approached the body and studied Richard’s face carefully. He didn’t care that Richard had died bravely nor that Richard had a better claim to the throne than Henry. Richard was a child-murdering bastard, and the Yorkists had hounded Jasper from his beloved Wales. Jasper spat on the corpse.
“May you rot in hell.”
Jasper pivoted on his heel and walked out of the church.
Chapter 47
THOUGH KOJIRO’S IDEA to place Welsh pikes at the bridge had simply been a prudent tactical suggestion, the end result that those pikes had likely saved his life was not lost on the newly crowned King Henry VII. And if that was not enough, he had also heard from John Savage and Gilbert Talbot that the heroic actions of Simon and his comrades at arms may have saved the left flank. Before leaving for London, Henry demanded an audience with Simon and his retinue.
Simon got word that the king wished to meet him just after he lost a mead chugging contest to a Glaswegian in the Cock Inn Tavern. Established in the year 1250, the Cock Inn in the tiny village of Sibson had been over serving the English and Welsh for over two hundred years. This, of course, was the first occasion for the Cock Inn to serve Scots, but much to the tavern-keeper’s delight, they proved to be a profitable clientele.
“Pay up!” Sir Walter Scott demanded.
“Your man is not human,” Simon protested as he pushed a handful of coins across the table.
“Of course he’s not human,” Sir Walter replied. “He’s Scottish.”
As Simon reached for another tankard, Kojiro stopped his arm and pointed at the door. A herald in King Henry’s livery strode purposefully across the tavern and stopped at Simon.
“The king requests your company and that of your two men.”
Before Simon could say something drunk and stupid
, Kojiro spoke. “When does the king wish us to meet?”
“Now.”
Kuro carried his master proudly along the roads and through the banner-swamped small towns. He knew he had fought well, and he expected that other horses and humans would recognize this. Kuro noticed that the gray horse’s rider, slumped in the saddle, did not make any effort to overtake him, and this satisfied Kuro.
Kuro’s master, as ever, sat upright in the saddle and rode with dignity. Kuro thought that the gray horse was jealous, but he was not completely certain. The plodding Percheron with its ungainly rider trailed behind. At least that horse knows its place.
They met the new king at his camp in Leicester. The three warriors from across the globe entered the King’s tent and bowed dutifully.
King Henry, who had been signing documents as fast as they were thrust before him stood up when they entered. Many of the documents he was signing were arrest warrants for Yorkists who had stood against him, including warrants for the Earl of Northumberland and an order to imprison the wounded Earl of Surrey. Behind the King stood Jasper Tudor and Thomas Brandon. John Cheyne, still recovering from his wounds but refusing to be apart from his king, struggled to stand, but managed to do so. He raised his open sword hand in salute, before he collapsed backed onto a cot.
Jasper smiled at the Paris tournament heroes. “So we’ve been told you were instrumental in breaking Norfolk’s right flank. I wish I could have seen it.”
“As do I,” Henry chimed in, “but I found myself otherwise occupied, shall we say? And your man’s reminder to keep pikes at the bridge was quite lucky for me.” Henry winked at Kojiro.
Though Henry had not slain anyone in personal combat during the melee, his refusal to turn and run, even in the face of overwhelming odds and Richard’s vicious charge, had earned him the respect he needed from his troops. The stories that flowed through the army like an old woman’s gossip were filled with praise for the ‘fearless’ king.
“So, you have clearly fulfilled your end of the bargain, Lord Lang. I have already signed papers nullifying Edward IV’s gift of your family estates to Percy Blythe and returned them to you.”
“You are generous, Majesty.”
“Well, and I’ve gone one better. You are now the honorable Marquess of Exeter, Sir Lang. I trust that with your new title, I will be able to count on your maintaining my influence in the southwest?”
“You have it with or without the title, Majesty, but I’m honored.”
“Now the bad news: unfortunately, you must evict the current tenant of Rougemont Castle yourself. I must go to London and let the people see me. The throne is mine for the moment, but there are a number of steps I must take to secure it.”
“I understand, Majesty.”
“As for your friends, I am bequeathing them land as well, including the colossal Venetian, even though I understand he is a commoner.”
“He is a commoner, Your Majesty.”
“When a battle as full of stories as this occurs, and yet I hear about the exploits of your men in every third story, I’m willing to take some unusual steps. I further believe that with the three of you holding lands near to each other, there is one part of the country whose loyalty I will never have to doubt.”
When Kojiro heard that the King had given him land, he tried to give it back. He owed his life to Simon and Simon served Henry, so Kojiro had just done his duty. He did not want a reward. “I wish to give the land back.”
“Well, I can honestly say, that’s the first time I’ve ever had anybody try to return a gift of land. In fact, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard of such a thing.”
Simon chimed in before Kojiro could speak again. “I’ll sort things out with him, Your Majesty. Sometimes he doesn’t understand English all that well.” Simon glared at Kojiro.
Kojiro still didn’t want the gift, but he knew that you did not argue with your lord in front of a king, so he let it go for the moment. “Thank you, Majesty.” He bowed in the Japanese way as he managed to say this with fairly good pronunciation. He really had no idea what he was going to do with land in England, but he supposed he could always give it away to someone else.
“There are still a number of Yorkists out there, albeit none with a decent claim to the throne,” Henry stated.
Simon wondered if Henry saw any irony in that statement, seeing as how Henry’s own claim was through his mother’s father’s father’s mother’s marriage. “Your services may be required in the future, and I expect to see a full host from Exeter.”
“As you shall, Majesty.”
After a few more pleasantries were exchanged and further details of their exploits were discussed, the three warriors left the tent and rode back to the Cock Inn.
Chapter 48
SIMON STAYED IN Sibson for two weeks as he worked on his strategy for retaking his lands, and while he waited for word to reach Aldo that he was, in fact, still alive and well. Unfortunately, too many victorious soldiers in too small an area had severely taxed the local supplies of ale, beer, mead, whisky, and wine, so when Aldo finally joined him, Simon had naught to offer but warm, flat beer.
“I knew that English culinary skills were dreadful, but I had hope you had more talent with alcohol. Sadly, I see that this is not the case,” Aldo remarked dejectedly as he quaffed a pint of beer.
Simon, mindful that Aldo had introduced him to so many wonderful tasting wines, was embarrassed that he had nothing better to offer his friend.
“I’m afraid the cupboards in this area are bare, old friend. There is an ale brewer of no small renown in Exeter that I shall introduce you to if we do not lose our heads en route to the reunion.”
“I’ll believe it when I taste it,” Aldo declared haughtily after choking down his tankard.
Now that Aldo had arrived, Simon had the only assets he was going to get for his attempt at reclaiming Rougemont Castle. Those assets consisted of: Aldo and the Triarii, Kojiro, Neno, and his cousin Duncan with a hundred Carmarthen archers.
Duncan had not only survived Bosworth, it was one of his longbowmen who was being credited with killing the Duke of Norfolk. As it turns out, Duncan’s archers had only been too eager to join Simon, complaining bitterly that the battle had ended too quickly and they hadn’t gotten a chance to kill enough Englishmen.
Before setting out, however, Simon, in a rare, unhasty manner, decided he should plan how to retake his castle. He sat down with Kojiro, Duncan, and Aldo over some very foul-smelling, rough-tasting, locally distilled liquor: the only thing left available.
Aldo gasped at his first taste of the liquor.
“Really? Really?” he inquired as he continued to drink and gasp.
“Please draw your castle,” Kojiro told Simon.
“And include the thickness of the walls and nearby land features,” Duncan added.
As a skilled navigator, Simon possessed reasonable cartographical skill, and in short order they were all looking at a workable map.
“How many cannon can we acquire?” Aldo asked.
“Let’s go with none.”
“Does the castle have water and food?” Kojiro asked.
“There’s a well inside the inner walls, and if they hear of our coming, the rich lands of Devon are capable of providing enough food to withstand a siege for a year.”
“How big and how loyal is the garrison?” Duncan asked.
“I’ve sent out inquiries these past two weeks, but I still don’t know how many soldiers Lord Percy Blythe keeps within the walls full time. I would guess no more than a hundred. I should be able to find sources on the docks still loyal to my family who could give me an accurate count.
“Unfortunately, if Lord Blythe hears about our approach too soon, he’ll be able to call the men who owe him fealty from the surrounding countryside and the garrison could quickly swell to ten times that size. As for loyalty, I’m going to assume he brought Yorkists with him to the castle, and they’re going to be well aware that slaug
hter has followed nearly every battle in this ‘feud of the roses.’ I, of course, have no intention of slaughtering anyone, but if he has any veterans from the Battle of Towton where they butchered Lancastrians by the bushel, I would say they are highly unlikely to surrender.”
Aldo spoke. “We won’t be able to break down the walls without cannon, and I would think that the less collateral damage you cause to the castle and surrounding village, the more popular you will be with your subjects, if ever they become such.”
“No argument there.”
“And based on the fortifications as you describe them, they could be held by a hundred men against a thousand, whereas we propose to attack possibly a thousand loyal, desperate, and determined soldiers with a little over a hundred.”
“So far, it seems you’ve gotten the gist of my plan,” Simon grinned.
“How do you think the population will react to your return?” Kojiro asked.
“You mean, did my family rule like complete imbeciles?”
“Yes.”
“Well, no one tells the lord’s son what they truly feel, but I got on well with the men at the docks, we put on brilliant harvest feasts if I do say so myself, and we didn’t go around executing people willy-nilly.”
“Okay, so you wouldn’t expect a full scale uprising at the sight of your standard raised above the castle,” Duncan remarked.
“I wouldn’t expect so, no.”
“That’s one thing at least,” Aldo said.
“You have three advantages that I see,” Kojiro offered. “If your assessment can be trusted.”
“That’s a big if,” Simon admitted.
“Yes, so I understand, may I continue?”
Aldo did a double-take at Kojiro. Did he just tell big-mouthed Simon to shut up?
“Please do,” Aldo said with a smile.
“If your assessment can be trusted, first, you have a friendly local population. Second, Exeter Castle is not on a towering hill with all approaches visible from the castle. Without the third advantage, however, the other three are useless.”
