by Griff Hosker
As we neared La Flèche I told him, “You are wrong. You have done that which your grandfather would have wished. You have kept your lands for the family of the Warlord. You have no children but I will have and your grandfather’s story will be told to them. I swear, Sir Philip, that my children and their children will know your story and that of your family.”
He nodded. I could see that he was too distraught to speak. He knew his end was close and like all men who face such moments he looked at his life and wondered if he had done all that he could. Perhaps my father had had a good death. It was over in an instant and there was no chance to regret decisions made.
Margaret noticed my mood. When we lay, later that night, in the bed in which Sir Philip had slept, alone, for so many years she said, “Some men have poor luck. The lord I was to marry was such a one. Men do not choose their luck. It chooses them. I thought that I would end up miserable and yet I have found the man that I might have searched the world to find. I am lucky. Embrace that luck, my love and celebrate life. It is too short for anything else.” I am lucky I had married a beautiful woman who was also wise.
We had much to do. We had only brought a few horses. I used some of my coin to buy good horses for all of my men and remounts too. It was an investment. We had good swords, shields and armour. What I needed was more men at arms. I was not foolish enough to think I could find archers here in Anjou. They would have to wait until I could return to England. There were three good archers at the garrison. They were descended from the archers Sir Leofric had brought with him: Griff of Gwent. James the Short and Robert of Derby. Sir Philip’s men at arms were, by and large, as old as he was. There were just six I could take with me. The rest would guard my new home. While my men prepared I went with Robert, Sir William and my squires to find more men at arms.
There had been war, off and on for more than twenty years in this land. There were many men at arms who had chosen a life of peace. There were others who had lost a lord and become lost. We searched every village and hamlet for twenty miles around seeking men who wished to earn gold. The Baltic Crusade had rewarded me. I was happy to invest in swords. In all we acquired ten men and that doubled my retinue.
Sir Philip had taken to his bed. The old servants from the castle doted on him and it was touching to see the way they attended to him. “My lord,” he said, “it is knights you need.”
I shook my head, “I will have knights I can trust. Sir William will do for now and my men at arms are the equal of a knight. They can fight and they are loyal. They know that they will not be ransomed. It they are taken then they will die. Such men are like gold dust. But enough of our preparations, how are you?”
“I sleep more than I wake and when I sleep I see my mother, father and grandfather. My dead wife has spoken to me. My lord I do not have long.” He took a small chest and handed it to me. “When I die then here is my will and the last of my valuables. I pray that you will honour my wishes.”
“You know that I shall.”
“Then I can die content. Send Father Michel to me, lord. I would be shrived for I am content.”
He died the next day. I opened the chest and found a document which told me his wishes. The money he had accrued was to be divided between the garrison and the servants. His mail and weapons he left to me to give to a deserving warrior. He asked to be buried in the church yard close to Sir Leofric. We honoured all of his wishes. When we left four days later all of my men were silent for although we had known him briefly, Sir Philip had been an example of a man who had been true to his vows, his lord and his liege. He had never fought in a major battle. I doubted that he had slain anyone and yet he had done his duty and what man could do more? I obeyed his wishes and he was buried by Sir Leofric and his wife. As I turned away my thoughts went back to my grandmother. I prayed that this grave would never be desecrated.
First Blood
Chapter 2
My wife was a strong woman but, as I prepared for war and the ride north, I detected anxiety. She was fussing around me more than usual. I sat her down, “This is my life, my love. I am a warrior. I know nothing else. I am not a farmer. The only crop I reap are my foes. We go to fight John Lackland. The end is a long way away but the valley of the Tees is worth fighting for.” I waved a hand around the chamber, “This castle is now yours. Make it the way you would wish it. Sir Philip would be happy. There are chests of coins. Geoffrey will know where to find anything that you wish.”
She nodded and, taking my hand, kissed it, “I care nothing for possessions. I owe you so much that I am afraid to lose you.”
“I have the best of men. You will not lose me.”
William and his squire, Johann, had as yet no men at arms. Nor did he have his own surcoat and livery. Before we left he had a local seamstress make a pair of surcoats for him and his squire. It was the same as mine but there was a sword in the right-hand corner and the gryphon was smaller. We looked a fine sight as we left for Le Mans. We had two banners now and my men led ten sumpters with our war gear and spare arrows. We had learned many lessons in the Holy Land and the Baltic. We now put them to good use. For the first time we would be both travelling and fighting in a land which was more familiar to us. This would not be the heat of the desert nor the snow of the frozen north. This would be a green and verdant land filled with forests, rivers and fields.
The scouts we used were two of the garrison and were led by Robert of La Flèche. Michael of Anjou and Phillippe of Poitou were both young men but they knew the land. With them rode two archers: Griff Jameson and Tom Robertson. Both were able to use their bows whilst mounted. I had seen the Seljuk Turks do so and I was pleased that at least two of my archers were able to try to master that skill.
Our caution was unnecessary. We were in friendly land all the way to Le Mans and we entered that mighty fortress at the end of a long hard day of riding. William des Roches greeted us warmly. I still found much in the man I did not like and yet I could not think of a reason for my dislike. He was over familiar but other men were like that. It was something in his eyes that I did not trust. There were many other knights there. William des Roches had gathered all of the barons who were loyal to the Duke of Brittany. We would be taking fifty banners with us. As we ate William des Roches discussed his plans with us. There were five of us seated at the head of the table with him and we would be his lieutenants.
The next day I rode with William des Roches and the four other lieutenants to view the road which led to the castle of Saint-Suzanne. We rode with helmets hung from our saddles but we wore our arming caps and carried our shields over our left legs. We were prepared. We had our squires with us but, alarmingly, we took neither archers nor men at arms with us. I thought that was a mistake but William des Roches seemed confident. “Sir Thomas, I would have you become familiar with the land. I have heard you have a good eye for terrain. The castle is thirty miles from Le Mans. I would have you look at the first twenty miles and see if there are problems you envisage which I do not see. There are still five knights who are yet to arrive. Let us enjoy the ride.”
I did enjoy the ride. What surprised me was the lack of any large village. Once we left Le Mans we passed nothing larger than a large hamlet. There were no castles, not even a fortified hall. I mentioned this to William. He nodded, “That is why I devised this strategy. Saint-Suzanne is the nearest castle. It is in Maine and guards the border. With that in our hands we can make inroads to the north and east.”
It seemed a good plan. It was coming on to noon. We had stopped to water our horses a couple of times and I could feel the first pangs of hunger. The road was approaching a wood and I was just about to ask if we should stop when Fótr said, “Lord! There are men ahead!”
From what William des Roches had told me there were few friends ahead. I guessed that we were about fourteen miles from Saint-Suzanne. I drew my sword and said, “Ware enemies!”
Suddenly a conroi of knights and squires burst from the woods. There were twelve o
f them. We were outnumbered two to one. This was when I would see the mettle of William des Roches.
“Ambush! Squires protect the rear.” He donned his helmet and hefted his shield, as we all did. He turned to see that we were ready and, drawing his sword, shouted, “Charge!”
The six of us were armed with swords and the enemy with lances. That did not worry me but I wondered about the Angevins. One thing in our favour was the enemy formation. They had burst from the woods, realising that their ambush had been spotted and they came at us loosely. I was riding boot to boot with William des Roches and Guy de Changé. I pulled my shield a little tighter to me and, as we approached them tried to work out whom I would be striking.
The knights were, like us, ahead of their squires. In the centre was a knight with alternate yellow and red stripes. Next to him was a warrior with a green shield and three yellow birds. I would be striking him. I saw the tip of his lance wavering up and down as he charged. They were riding war horses. They had come prepared. We were riding palfreys. Mine was Skuld and was a better horse than might be expected. Skuld could turn quickly and was a clever horse. When the mêlée began I would have the advantage.
I braced myself for the blow from the wooden tipped lance. He pulled his arm back for the punch. I do not think either of us knew the exact place he would hit for the end of the long lance was wavering up and down. The ploughed field over which we were moving was far from level. When his horse’s foreleg found the hole, the lance dipped and it was just when he was striking. The lance’s tip glanced off the mail protecting my right knee. It was a painful blow but that was all. I swung my sword backhand. I hit him squarely in the back. Already off balance from the mistake his horse had made he toppled from his mount and landed heavily.
As soon as he fell I wheeled. There was no honour in fighting squires and Skuld’s fast hooves had taken me behind their knights. With my left protected with my shield I rode for the two knights who were engaged with Roger d’Aubrey. All rules of combat had been abandoned and so I felt no shame in attacking one of them from the rear. I did shout as I charged close to him, “Turn and fight, traitor!”
The warrior with the red shield and yellow fess turned. His lance was the wrong weapon. He should have discarded it but, instead he swung it at me hitting his companion’s mount in the process. I stood in my stirrups and brought my sword down hard on to his right hand. He was wearing mail mittens but years of wielding the blade had made my right arm like a young oak. I broke the bones in his hand and he dropped his lance. He cried, “I yield!”
The blow from the lance to his horse, my attack and Roger d’Aubrey’s own efforts forced the second knight to yield. I turned to look for more enemies but saw that the survivors had sped off. The knight I had unhorsed was not moving and there were two other knights nursing wounds. Four had yielded. I feared one lay dead. There would be no ransom from him. I turned and saw that Fótr alone out of the squires had slain a squire. From the livery I saw that it was the squire of the knight who had fallen to me.
“Well done, Fótr, gather their horses.” I sheathed my sword and said to the knight nursing the broken hand, “Who was the knight who could not keep his saddle?”
“That was Hugo de Ferrers. His family have estates in Derbyshire. You have made a mistake, gryphon knight, for he is a close confederate of King John.”
I nodded, “And your name?”
“Hugh de Clare from Pembroke.”
“Well, Hugh de Clare from Pembroke, two things you should know about me, I hate King John more than any man alive and my name was Sir Thomas of Stockton. You may have heard of me. Now I am lord of La Flèche.”
His hand went to his crucifix, “The priest killer! If I had known it was you…”
William des Roches came over. He had with him the two squires who had stayed with their knights. “You two ride to your lords’ families. They may have their knights returned when the ransom is paid.” He looked at the dead knight and squire. Fótr had taken their mail and swords. They were now draped over their horses. “Put these bodies on your horses. I daresay you would give them a better burial than we would.”
I saw the horror and distaste as the bloody bodies were slung across their horses’ rumps. We waited until they were out of sight before we turned to return to Le Mans. “That is a pair of fine war horses you now have.”
I was distracted. “What?”
“The horses, you have two fine horses.”
I nodded and looked over my shoulder. The four knights were being watched by our squires and Roger d’Aubrey and the other three were behind us. “Tell me, when did you come up with this plan to scout out the road? It was not just a whim when we spoke last night was it?”
“Why no. When I rode north from our meeting with the Duke, Sir Ranulf Avenel suggested it. He said it would familiarise you and the others to the land hereabouts.”
“And he is not with us, is he?”
“What are you implying?”
“I am not implying anything I am stating plainly. That was an ambush. Twelve knights waiting in a wood. Had Fótr not spotted them they would have had us and this expedition would have been the end of the Duke’s attempts to regain his lands.”
“But Ranulf is loyal!”
“How else do you explain the ambush? If I am wrong I will apologise to him.”
We were some way from Le Mans when we were spotted from the gates. When we reached the inner ward William des Roches asked, “Where is Sir Ranulf Avenel? I need to speak with him.”
The sergeant at arms at the gate smiled, “You just missed him, my lord. When you were spotted approaching he and his squire rode out. We thought they went to meet with you.”
I gave William a knowing look. He said, “It may be innocent.”
I laughed, “You like the warhorses I have won? I wager the better of them that when you search his chambers you find he has fled and that nothing of his remains. And if there is one traitor then there may be others. I will sleep with a dagger ‘neath my pillow.”
“You are safe in my home, Sir Thomas.”
I said nothing. I was used to the treachery of my fellow knights. I was proved to be right. It was not only the knight and his squire who had fled but his four men at arms and two servants. I sent for Sir William, Harry Longsword and David of Wales. I told them of the ambush and the treachery. “Keep your ears open and keep your counsel… Until we know more then we just trust our own men.”
Harry said, “And that includes our new men?”
I had not thought of that. “You have heard something?”
He shook his head, “So far as I can tell they are what they say they are but we have yet to fight alongside them lord and we both know that is when you see the true worth of a warrior.”
“We will be fighting soon enough.” I handed the mail hauberks and chausses I had taken from the two knights. “See if these are the right size for any of our men. I would have us all mailed.”
“Lord. these are valuable. The coin for them should be yours.”
“No Harry. I learned in the Holy Land that my fate is bound inextricably with the men I lead. I would rather be protected than rich! Besides there will be coin enough in this war. I have ransom coming from de Clare. There will be profit enough for me.”
Fótr had gained a horse and he and Johann examined and then groomed the new horses. I could see the envy on Sir William’s squire’s face. I was not certain that the attack on Sainte-Suzanne would result in horses. The only way would be if Gilbert, lord of Gilsland, decided to meet us horse to horse. William des Roches was not certain how many knights would be in the castle. His intelligence was not what it should be. I had learned that the more information you have the better. I wondered why he had only sent twelve knights to take us. Perhaps he was short of knights.
Keen to strike as quickly as possible, we left two days after the ambush. Hurdles and ladders had been prepared. We had wagons to carry them. There were still knights to arrive, Juhel of May
enne was a powerful lord and he had promised us thirty knights. We left without them. Even so we were a powerful battle. We had seventy banners. With two hundred men at arms, archers and crossbows we were a threat to be reckoned with. What I worried about was the lack of archers. Mine were the only ones. I knew the value of them but the rest of the knights did not seem to even consider them.
William des Roches had learned from the ambush. He had his own men ahead of us. These were not men at arms nor were they archers. They were his eight foresters. It was a wise decision. They would not have to fight, they merely had to sniff out the enemy. This time the men who supported King John had remained behind their walls. We reached Sainte-Suzanne in the late afternoon. Our approach had not been secret and the gates were barred We saw that the walls were manned as we set up our camp. Sainte-Suzanne was a simple castle. There was a curtain wall and a good gatehouse behind a ditch. The keep was a large square one and there were two towers at the other corners of this triangular castle. In normal time it might have had a garrison of perhaps twenty knights. From the banners on the walls there were many more. William took myself, Guy de Changé and Roger d’Aubrey to speak with the castellan.
We had our helmets in our hands and our palms open. It was the sign of peace. We halted at the ditch and while William spoke I examined the ditch. There was water at the bottom and that might have hidden all kinds of dangers and traps. We had used enough in our castles in the Baltic for me to be keenly aware of the dangers.
“The true ruler of this land is Duke Arthur of Brittany. I am his representative and I demand that you yield this castle to me.”
I recognised Sir Ranulf Avenal who was standing next to an older warrior. It was the older knight who spoke but I watched Sir Ranulf. He was a knight, I could see now, who had seen service in the Holy Land. He had the cropped beard of a seasoned warrior. Back in Le Mans I had barely noticed him but now I saw how dangerous he looked.
