Deus Militis - Soldiers of God

by Jonathan A Longmore

  Ranulf was embarrassed as he realised he was acting like a fool. He wanted to stay and talk to her but forced himself to avert his eyes, looking about the inner hall as he remembered the real reason why he was there. He shook his head, ‘No, I am not unwell, I am merely tired.’

  ‘You have travelled far?’

  ‘Far enough,’ he replied looking confused, ‘My apologies for sounding familiar, but there is a siege coming, and a siege is no place for a Lady.’

  Evelyn looked a little taken aback, ‘I thank you for the compliment but I am a Ladies Maid and I am here with Lady Blanche.’

  ‘Lady Blanche?’

  ‘Lady Blanche de Warenne,’ explained Evelyn. She was amused Ranulf did not know who she was, ‘She is betrothed to Sir Ralf.’

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘Ralf de Capo, he is the military commander here, appointed by the King himself.’

  Ranulf was astonished, ‘And he brought women here?’

  Evelyn remained steadfast, ‘You do not know my Lady, she goes where Sir Ralf goes, he did not bring her, she insisted.’

  ‘It matters not,’ said Ranulf angrily, ‘this Sir Ralf is putting you both in grave danger!’

  Evelyn tilted her head slightly as she looked into Ranulf’s eyes and smiled as if she knew exactly what effect she had on him, ‘Your concern is appreciated, if misplaced. I am here because I want to be.’

  Ranulf averted his gaze once more, ‘My apologies.’ He blushed as he realised he had overstepped the mark.

  ‘I accept your apology,’ replied Evelyn with a smile, ‘I have to go; perhaps we will meet again?’

  Ranulf watched as she re-entered the first floor of the Keep. Meeting Evelyn removed any interest in exploring the Keep and he ascended the steps back down to the inner bailey and saw he was being pointed out by one of his colleagues to Sir John de Warenne.

  Ranulf waited while Sir John approached him, ‘You are de Balmagne, Henry’s man?’

  ‘I am….you have duties for me?’

  Sir John de Warenne was related to the King by his marriage to the Kings half-sister Alice who had died eight years earlier. At thirty three years of age he was at the peak of his physical prowess and matched Ranulf in stature, and standing together they looked the epitome of English Knighthood, ‘Duties? Aye, I have duties for you, but your first duty is to accompany me to Sir Ralf’s counsel…..young Henry has asked for you to be there.’

  Ranulf smirked; there couldn’t have been more than a couple of years between Henry of Almain and Sir John de Warenne, ‘Young Henry, Sir John?’

  ‘Younger than me,’ stated the Earl of Surrey, ‘Come.’

  The Kings Hall was an Oak framed building erected in the inner bailey more than one hundred and fifty years earlier. It housed a small banqueting hall, two private rooms for the King and his Queen to retire to and an enclosed Privy standing over a pit which was emptied daily to prevent the stench reaching the royal noses.

  A single storey building, it was rectangular in shape and accessed through twin oak doors leading into a small inner atrium. Visitors would have their weapons removed by the Royal guards before entering the main hall through a second set of thick double doors. A fire blazed away, heating the hall and making it probably the warmest building in the city. Chairs and benches were scattered along the walls, some with cushions stuffed with goose feathers, an addition ordered by the Queen in response to the hard seats. She had told the King after her first visit to Rochester, ‘If I am to live in this backward country I will sit on something soft.’ And so it was that comfort in the form of feather filled cushions and mattresses were created to protect her Royal haunches.

  The floor was polished oak and Tapestries adorned the walls depicting hunting scenes and battles involving Norman knights. The shuttered windows remained closed and iron candle holders lined the walls boosting the dull lighting created by the hanging chandelier.

  Ralf de Capo stood at the long oak table normally used by the King to eat his meals. A map of the castle and the city was now spread across the table and de Capo squinted in the poor light that cast flickering shadows into all corners and crevices. As well as Sir Henry of Almain, nephew to both the King and the rebel leader Simon de Montfort, he was joined by the oversized figure of Sir John FitzAlan the Earl of Arundel, Gilbert the captain of the city guard, Sir Geoffrey Marston a Templar who had bought with him twenty Knights Templar by order of the Master in London and Sir Roger de Leybourne, Sheriff of Kent, Constable of Rochester Castle and political leader to the men around the table.

  De Capo surveyed them all and nodded to himself, pleased with his company. He waited until the Earl of Surrey entered, accompanied by Ranulf who acknowledged Henry with a nod. All the men wore mail and plate, all were armed and they stood almost shoulder to shoulder.

  Sir Roger introduced everyone present before speaking, ‘I thank you on behalf of the King. We will try and hold the city but our priority is the castle and the bridge. If the bridge falls the castle must hold. We have little room for manoeuvre and we must expect to be attacked by at least three armies.’

  ‘Three armies!’ exclaimed the Earl of Surrey, ‘where did the third one come from?’

  Sir Roger indicated toward Henry and explained about the rebels seen outside Canterbury, ‘Sir Henry believes they don’t have the stomach for a good fight, they ignored him and his men as they rode past, so we can only pray they stay where they are.’ He looked at de Capo, ‘Sir Ralf is in Military command here and all decisions will be deferred to him. Sir Ralf!’

  De Capo spoke, ‘I have already sent two men to the east to see if that rabble are moving toward us, by my reckoning if they haven’t already moved they will not be coming at all.’

  For two hours the group of men discussed their tactics and what they would do depending on the number of the enemy and their point of attack. ‘I think we can all agree,’ said de Capo, ‘Boley Hill to the south will not be held by us, and they will be able to site their siege engines there.’

  ‘But the walls will hold, will they not?’ Sir Henry asked.

  ‘They held before,’ said Gilbert, ‘they’ll hold again, against the engines at least!’

  Sir Geoffrey Marston looked at Gilbert, ‘I mean no offence Sir Gilbert, but I have dealt with city guards in the past, are yours ready to fight?’

  Gilbert stood rigid at the implied insult and looked the Templar commander in the eye,

  ‘You might mean no offence, but I take offence Sir Geoffrey….when my men die next to yours, you will have your answer.’

  The Templar bowed his head in apology, ‘My pardon, Sir Gilbert, I trust not too many will die.’

  Sir Roger spoke up, ‘Sir Geoffrey, each man here has proved his worth in battle, including Sir Gilbert who has fought in France with honour, as Sir Henry can testify.’

  Henry nodded in agreement as Sir Roger continued, ‘We shall trust in each other and our men to make this coming battle our victory. I have already dispatched riders to find the King or Prince Edward and warn them. They were marching on Nottingham and I pray they can reach here in time, if this castle falls the whole of England could fall.’

  The men around the table all nodded in assent and Ranulf glanced at Henry who seemed to savour the fact his Uncles kingdom could be won or lost so easily. The running of feet and the sound of an urgent voice caused the men in the room to turn to the door as it was opened from the outside by one of the guards. A man at arms rushed into the room out of breath and perspiring heavily and stood back from the assembly. He seemed unsure who to address as Sir Roger and de Capo both stepped forward.

  De Capo spoke, ‘Well, what news?’

  The man at arms took a deep breath, ‘The Earl of Leicester has been spotted approaching the river from the north,’ he took another breath, ‘at least two hundred horse, two thousand foot, plus a number of wagons that look like they have siege engines.’

  ‘How long before they get here?’ de Capo asked.


  ‘Tomorrow or the day after.’

  ‘Obviously going straight for the bridge,’ said Sir Roger. He looked at Gilbert, ‘As we agreed earlier Sir Gilbert; the bridge is yours to hold as long as possible.’

  Gilbert nodded and puffed out his massive chest, ‘It will be defended, I pledge my life to that promise, of that you can be sure!’

  Sir John FitzAlan and Gilbert were both massive men, and standing side by side would send fear into even the bravest of men. When both were fully armoured they were indeed a sight to behold. Sir Roger grinned, ‘Perhaps we could put you and Sir John together on the bridge....now that would surely stop de Montfort.’

  The men round the table chuckled as the two huge men looked at each other and nodded in agreement. Only one man remained straight-faced as the others enjoyed the moment of humour, ‘Take ten knights and ten archers,’ de Capo instructed, ‘with the gate guards you can block the bridge and hold it as long as you can.…if it’s hopeless retreat into the bailey.’

  The laughter dried up as the seriousness of the situation was brought back into the proceedings by de Capo.

  Gilbert bowed his head, turned to leave but stopped when Sir Roger added, ‘And Gilbert, from now on,’ he glanced at de Capo who nodded, ‘no one leaves or enters this city.’

  Gilbert inclined his head and strode out of the room.

  Sir Roger looked at de Capo and stepped back, deferring to him.

  ‘To your duties,’ de Capo said, ‘we will meet here again tomorrow, unless news comes of de Clare’s location before then. From this point on the city walls will be manned with one quarter of the men at all times and the Earl of Surrey will co-ordinate that.’ De Capo looked at the Earl who nodded his assent.

  Once de Capo was alone he leant against the table and looked intently at the map. He ignored the figure that walked from the Kings bedchamber until it stood almost next to him,

  ‘The safety of the scroll is paramount,’ said Erasmus.

  De Capo, bent over the map inclined his head to the left, ‘So is this city,’ he said, ‘if you wish to go North without me you can take the scroll and leave with my blessing.’

  ‘You gave me your word,’ there was a hint of panic in Erasmus’ voice, ‘do not forget the importance of it!’

  ‘You won’t let me forget,’ de Capo replied curtly, ‘the scroll is safe in the Keep and the King will arrive before that falls. When he does I will take you north before I return and marry Blanche. I always keep my word.’ He stood and looked directly into Erasmus’ face, ‘Isn’t that why God chose me?’

  Erasmus nodded and looked at the map, ‘What if the castle falls?’

  I thought we were under God’s protection,’ de Capo said sarcastically, ‘or perhaps at times like this he steps back to see who dies best and screams loudest!’

  Erasmus looked into de Capo’s face and shook his head, ‘God will forgive you Sir Ralf, but do not test him!’

  Chapter Five

  The column of armed men moved slowly through the cloying mud, the wheels of the wagons turning slowly and ponderously. Men and horses slipped and struggled to keep their footing so most horsemen dismounted and walked their horses close to the tree line where the ground was slightly firmer.

  Ahead of the column rode the leader of the rebellion, Simon de Montfort; sixth Earl of Leicester, first Earl of Chester and brother in law to the King of England against whom he was at war. He was a powerful man with strong features and now he stood with a face as black as thunder watching his army struggle to make good distance.

  Born to a French nobleman who had spilt Saracen blood, de Montfort himself had also taken the cross and travelled to the Holy Land to fight on the side of the King. The King he now sought to bring to heel. His opinion of the King as a leader and commander was one of contempt and he was confident the Barons would win this war and the King would have to bow to their demands. De Montfort also knew he was a more competent commander. The capture of Rochester would give the rebels control of the gateway to London and from there, the rest of England.

  Fabien le Breton one of the French Knights who had sworn his allegiance to de Montfort during his exile from Henry’s England sat next to the Earl and sighed at the English weather. As one, they turned at the approach of de Montfort’s lieutenant, Jaxon of Leicester who had been with de Montfort since he took the cross. Jaxon approached at a slow canter and pulled up next to de Montfort on the opposite side to le Breton.

  ‘Well,’ de Montfort said sharply, ‘have you spoken to your spies?’

  ‘Aye,’ replied Jaxon who was renowned for not saying much unless he had to.

  ‘Good news or bad news?’

  ‘Depends,’ replied Jaxon.

  De Montfort turned to le Breton and raised his eyebrows as the Frenchman smiled at Jaxon’s one word answers.

  ‘Tell me,’ said de Montfort, ‘why de Clare wants to attack Rochester, when a month ago he argued against it?’

  Jaxon had one hand on his reins and the other on the hilt of his sword, it felt comfortable and he fingered the hilt as he spoke, ‘My spies tell me a knight by the name of Ralf de Capo was ordered to hold the castle by the King, do you know him?’

  ‘I know of him, allied to John de Warenne.’ De Montfort glanced at le Breton, for Jaxon to say more than a few words meant he had something interesting to say.

  ‘Aye, that’s the one, gained himself a reputation in Acre, ferocious in battle but merciful to his enemies.’

  ‘I’ve heard the stories,’ said de Montfort, ‘I also heard the rumours about what happened at Lewes….is Gilbert after revenge?’

  ‘It’s more than that,’ Humfrey said slowly, ‘He is now betrothed to Blanch de Warenne.’

  ‘What?’ The Earl snapped his head round, this was news.

  ‘It appears after the fight which by all accounts Gilbert lost badly, Blanche chose de Capo,’ he turned to the Earl, ‘he most definitely wants revenge my Lord, and I hear he wants it badly.’

  ‘So, it’s a personal vendetta for him now!’

  ‘There’s more,’ said Jaxon.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘The Lady is at Rochester with de Capo.’

  De Montfort closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he realised what de Clare was really doing, ‘Revenge and lust Jaxon, the man is obsessed with the Lady and as a result will make mistakes. We cannot afford mistakes!’

  ‘You think he will deviate from the plan?’

  ‘With de Clare, anything can happen, make sure your spies keep you informed.’

  ‘Already done my Lord.’

  ‘He fights for a Lady,’ said le Breton, ‘perhaps this is a good thing…non?’

  ‘Non,’ said de Montfort, ‘this fight is not about de Clare’s obsession with one woman, but ideals….ideals! This is what this war is about, fairness to the people of England and a fair parliament. This bastard King needs to understand he does not have the ultimate power, and as for his counsel…..a pox on the French!’

  Fabien le Breton looked quizzical, ‘My lord?’

  ‘Not you Fabien, not you, besides, am I not French born? No….I’m talking about the Kings Frenchies, they’re the pox in this country.’

  Jaxon spat at the mention of the Kings counsel, ‘There is something else my Lord.’

  De Montfort sighed, the tone of Jaxon’s voice suggested he had already given the good news.

  ‘My spies tell me a French knight with men from the Imperial Order of Jerusalem have joined with de Clare.’

  ‘The men who wear red,’ de Montfort said softly, ‘I thought their only hunting ground was Outremer!’

  ‘Aye,’ Jaxon shrugged, ‘so did I, but something has bought them to England.’

  De Montfort’s eyes narrowed, ‘Who is their commander?’

  ‘Reynaud de Chauvigny, ‘replied Jaxon, ‘he is a Master of their Order, strange enough for any of them to be here, but to send a Master means whatever it is, it’s important.’

  De Montfort sounded pertu
rbed, ‘De Capo?’

  ‘Seems more than a coincidence,’ Jaxon said, ‘they were both in Acre.’

  De Montfort nodded in agreement, ‘Aye, more than a coincidence, I want to meet this de Chauvigny before we take Rochester.’

  Jaxon looked at le Breton, ‘We would have to cross the river. It might not be possible.’

  De Montfort looked at the sky as he made a decision, ‘Find out if it is possible.’ His eyes dropped back to the column of men moving slowly southwards, ‘We stop in two hours, Rochester can wait another day.’

  Chapter Six

  Ranulf and half of Henry’s men had been instructed to help in the fortification of the bridge. The bridge house was built to secure the city. Thick walls and a portcullis protected stout wooden doors on both sides to seal the bridge from anyone trying to enter or leave.

  Usually closed at dusk as were all the city gates, entry and exit would only be granted in the case of an extreme emergency and only by the order of Gilbert. Now, the city would be sealed and no one would be allowed to enter or leave until this crisis was over. The bridge wasn’t wide enough for two wagons to pass and the bridge guard had to settle right of way disputes on a daily basis, normally with the threat of violence or a visit to the castle dungeons.

  Made of wood, it stood on stone foundations sunk into the mud by the Romans a thousand years earlier. It would have been easy to set fire to the bridge to prevent the rebels crossing, but that was not an option. The bridge had to remain intact; the survival of the bridge was important to both sides and men would die to keep it or seize it.

  Ranulf walked across the bridge accompanied by Gilbert and the sergeant of the bridge guard and together they surveyed the scene from the opposite bank. The bridge would be blockaded to try and slow the rebels down. There was no question the rebels would attempt to cross, and the fighting would be deadly and bloody. Before that happened, Gilbert wanted the area leading to the bridge made as inaccessible as possible, blocked, ditches dug and the ground spiked. Gilbert looked west and grunted, ‘We need to gain as much time as we can, I want every able bodied man and boy from the city out here,’ he demanded, ‘I want all available wagons, barrels and boats bought on to this side.’ He pointed out a half circle on the approach to the bridge, ‘I want a ditch dug in an arc from bank to bank at least ten feet wide and six feet deep, spiked at the bottom and the earth bank built up on the far side.’