The Welsh Marches (The Anarchy 1120-1180 Book 15)

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The Welsh Marches (The Anarchy 1120-1180 Book 15) Page 8

by Hosker, Griff


  I saw their eyes flicker to fitz Comyn’s body and their answer was obvious. They all swore. One, bolder than the rest, said, “Lord I should warn you that this warrior is related to the Comyn family who seek to rule Scotland. He will not take the death of his brother kindly.”

  “Thank you for that. I have heard of the Comyns.”

  Chapter 6

  We left while it was still dark. The dead had been thrown into the ditches. We had no time to bury them. Dick had set slow fires in the buildings: smouldering coals which would burn through and eventually ignite the walls of the hall. The coals, suspended in a chest would take time to burn through the wood and then they would drop onto oil soaked kindling to spread the fires. With a trail of straw and kindling it would spread to the walls but not until we had left the area. Dick was a master with fire. With a chest on each floor the burning hall and walls would draw every warrior and man from miles around and would allow us to escape.

  Ralph of Bowness rode with Brother Peter and our prisoners. Masood and Aelric rode ahead as we left the castle to head south and retrace our steps. My men led either one or two horses. The captured horses had not been the best and we would ride those first. I rode a grey palfrey. Alciades was on a tether. If we had to flee then we would release the Scottish horses. They were not valuable. Our own horses were.

  Having ridden along the greenway north we travelled boldly, even in the dark. With Masood and Aelric sniffing out danger I was confident that we would be alerted to our enemies. We had ridden ten miles when Alf drew my attention to the glow in the sky to the north of us. The fire had taken hold of the castle. Lord Alexander Keith would have to rebuild his home. It was then that I thought of my new foe. He had headed to Morpeth. It was now clear to me that he had used two columns to disguise his numbers. Would he know that his second conroi was lost? Had he headed south from Morpeth towards the New Castle? Both contained men he could use. Our lack of numbers meant that I dared not risk the more direct route. I would have to stick to my more circuitous route south and west. I knew that there would be few men that we would meet and, more importantly, we would outnumber any that we did.

  We stopped to change horses at the Roman camp we had used. Masood and Aelric were both there waiting for us. We were close to Morpeth but the roads were not good ones and it was night. I counted on the acute senses of the archers to sniff out danger.

  I used the time to speak with Sir Malcolm. “Tell me where you were headed.”

  “I will not offer you any more assistance. I gave my word not to escape. I will not become a traitor to my lord too.”

  I could have threatened him. I could have used torture but he was young. I did neither. I walked off to speak with Sir Thomas and Dick. “If this Lord Alexander headed for Morpeth and New Castle why did he send young Malcolm on the Felton road?”

  Dick closed his eyes. I knew what he was doing. He was visualizing the road. He opened them. “Hexham. There is a garrison there. They were the ones who slew Sir Hugh Manningham. It is a good castle. There is nothing bigger for miles around. We still hold Barnard Castle. The only other strong garrison is at Carlisle and that is too far away then we must assume that the column was heading west. He was making for Hexham.”

  “And we have to cross the river west of there. That is too much of a risk.”

  “Then we must use a bridge and the only one that I know of is the one at the Roman fort, Corebricg. If it is not guarded it will shorten our journey home.”

  “How far away is it?”

  He stroked his horse. We were changing to our own horses. “We will reach there not long after dawn.”

  “Then you and your archers shall be the vanguard. If you spy danger then I will use my men at arms and Sir Thomas to clear the enemy.” We had found a great quantity of spears and Scottish lances. They were on sumpters. If the enemy formed ahead of us then we would use their own weapons against them.

  Dick went to speak with our two scouts. We would now be travelling on a different path. In one way, it would be easier for there was a Roman Road which led south to Corebricg. On the other hand, we were more likely to meet enemy forces. The road south, whilst straight, rose and fell over small valleys and streams. It would be easier travelling them at night. During the day, you risked reaching a crest and finding an enemy. As dawn broke we saw the thickly wooded hillsides. They were without either farms or animals. This area had still not recovered from the border wars. King Henry and my father had much work to do in order to make it safer for people. It was a desolate and debatable land.

  Masood and Aelric galloped back towards us. Dick stopped to speak with them and, as the archers slipped their bows from their backs, I knew that we had enemies ahead. I nudged Alciades forward. “What is it Dick?”

  “The bridge is a mile away, just over the crest of the hill. The Scots have men there. They have a temporary camp. I think it must be more men sent by Lord Alexander.”

  Aelric added, “I spied two banners lord but most of the men were poorly armed.”

  “How many?”

  “Thirty or forty. Masood here crept close,” he smiled, “he told me their numbers by using his fingers.”

  We had made our decision and we now had to bear the consequences. I turned in the saddle. “I want the poorest of the Scottish horses unsaddling. Alf and Stephen, you need to tether the rest to your saddles. You will be at the rear. Break out the spears for the men at arms and Sir Thomas and me. Aelric, rejoin the archers. Dick, you take your archers and outflank them.”

  “What is your plan?”

  “I intend to drive the spare horses towards them. If you can keep their flanks occupied then the horses will disrupt them and my handful of men at arms should be able to deal with them. You will follow afterwards.”

  He nodded approvingly, “Clever. I would not have thought of using the horses. Who knows, we may be able to recapture some on the other side.”

  “It matters not. They are a weapon and we shall use whatever we have to. Brother Peter, you and Ralph of Bowness will ride with the prisoners. Remember Sir Malcolm, you gave your word.”

  He nodded but I could see that he was regretting making that decision. Alf had sorted the horses out. We had twenty we would stampede. That left our two squires with five decent horses each. They would probably have the hardest job. Riding with a string of horses was never easy and if Scots were trying to kill you then it would be even harder.

  “Jean de les Monts and Gurth son of Garth, I want you to drive the horses before you. You will not need spears. Follow the horses and you should break through. Secure the south side of the bridge.”

  “Aye lord.”

  That left four of us with spears. It was not a great number but we would fill the bridge and plough through any who remained. If we were lucky then the knights Aelric had seen would fall and, without leaders, the rest might panic. “Sir Thomas, John and Henry, our job is to make sure that the prisoners and our squires get through. We make a hole through which they can escape. Listen for my command to fall back across the bridge.”

  “Aye lord!” Their voices were confident. I hoped that confidence was justified.

  Dick waved and he led one column of archers east while Aelric led the rest, my archers, west. My two men at arms began to herd the horses forward. One rode on each side while the four of us held our spears before us to discourage the animals from returning north. I spurred Alciades and he gave a snort. It was a message to the lesser horses before him to move. Once they began to trot it became easier. Jean and Gurth used the flat of their swords to encourage them to run faster. Once they crested the top I saw the bridge and men ahead. The horses galloped faster for they were on the downhill section. It was a short gradient and then it flattened out. I saw that the men at the bridge had heard and seen our approach. There was activity as they sought arms and mail. It meant they were not looking east and west to their flanks. The danger lay along the road and that had their attention. I could not see my archers but I kn
ew they would have one of their number holding their horses while they approached on foot.

  I knew the archers were in position when men began to fall. They had been struck by arrows. They had found decent cover. The drumming of the horses’ hooves on the cobbled Roman Road meant I could not hear what was being shouted some three hundred paces from us but it became obvious what it was when the Scots turned their shields to the new threat. As our stampeding herd closed with them I saw those on the bridge take evasive action and move from the obvious path of the animals. It caused disruption to the walls of shields and more men fell to Dick’s arrows.

  I pulled up my shield as the first of the horses thundered across the bridge. Two men hurled themselves into the river to avoid the deadly hooves. I saw Gurth son of Garth raise his sword and strike. When it rose above his head again I saw that it was bloody. I slowed down Alciades. Pulling back my arm I thrust my spear at the knight who came at me. He blocked it with his shield but it was a powerful blow and he was on a slope. He could not keep his balance and tumbled backwards into the river. I pulled back my arm and thrust into the gap he had left. My spear went into the side of a man at arms. As he fell his shield pulled a second man at arms into the river.

  I turned as Brother Peter and the Scottish squire galloped across the bridge. Just then Sir Malcolm jerked his horse to a halt and shouted, “This is the son of…”

  He got no further for Ralph of Bowness struck him across the side of his head with his fist and knocked the knight from his saddle. There was a sickening crunch as his head hit the parapet of the bridge. Even Brother Peter would not be able to save him. The Varangian galloped over the bridge followed by my squires. I thrust my spear at the man at arms who came at me with his spear. As mine struck him in the thigh his tore through the mitten on my right hand. I felt warm blood seeping.

  “Back over the bridge!”

  The other three all thrust at their opponents and then wheeled around to gallop across the bridge. I was the last one to cross. I turned on the other side and saw Dick, and all of our archers, gallop towards the enemy. They had their swords out. They vastly outnumbered the handful of men who remained standing and they thundered across unharmed. As I watched I saw that more than half of the Scots were in the river and were trying to extricate themselves. I knew that Dick and the archers could have forded the river for it was both wide and shallow. This was better. His last charge had disrupted the Scots even more. It would take them some time to reorganize. When they did they would send for help. Even more fortuitous was that six of their horses had joined the stampede. Jean and Gurth were calming them.

  Ralph of Bowness rode to me, “I am sorry, lord. I had to silence him.”

  “I know. God has punished him from breaking his word. Still we can now head to Barnard Castle and Sir Hugh. The Scots will not expect that!” I turned to Padraig. “Dismount.”

  He looked up at me, “You would kill me?”

  I smiled, “No, but I am going to teach you a lesson. You will run. Move!” He started to run. “Masood, Henry and Jean follow him. Head south and west. Take the right fork. We will catch you up.”

  “Aye lord.

  Dick and his archers arrived. “That went well lord.” He saw the torn mail. “You are wounded.”

  “It is nothing. Come, we head south and west.”

  “West?”

  I smiled, “Trust me, Dick, I have not lost my senses. The Scots are watching. I want to fool them.”

  The archers each took a horse. They would not be fit for riding for a while but if we could give our own horses ten miles respite from carrying an armoured man it would help. We reached the fork in the road. One went south and east and the other south and west. Soon we were hidden in the woods which spread on both sides of the road. I galloped forward and found Padraig. He had not run far but the prodding spears of Henry and John had made him run faster than he expected. He was panting. He was a squire and more used to riding than running.

  “Bind his hands behind his back and cover his eyes.” If Henry was surprised by my words he said nothing. I dismounted and Alf held my horse. “Scot, I am going to let you go. You and Sir Malcolm have been too much trouble.”

  He could not speak for he was out of breath. He nodded his thanks. When he was bound and his eyes covered I pushed him before me and led him into the woods. When we were forty paces from the road I spun him around ten times and then slipped away, quietly. I remounted and we continued on the western road. After half a mile, we joined a small road which ran due east. Dick had told me of it. I held up my hand and led my men east. We walked. We were now heading in the direction of the valley. Hidden from the Scots on the bridge, Padraig would still be wandering around in the woods. He would eventually free himself and make his way back to the bridge. He would tell the men there that we were heading for Barnard Castle and, hopefully, the Scots would try to catch us. I was buying us time to get further south. This was our most dangerous time. We were less than four miles from the castle at Hexham.

  When we rejoined the road south I waved Masood and Aelric forward and we increased our speed. In a perfect world, we would make it to Stockton in one march. We had spare horses and we could change but it was an unlikely outcome as we had almost fifty miles to cover and more than forty of those miles were in the hands of the Scots. Added to that were the thick black clouds which rolled in from the east. It was some years since I had lived in this part of the world but I knew that meant bad weather and, perhaps, even snow. We had to move south as fast as we could.

  In the end, we just made Wolsingham and the hall of the Bishop of Durham before we had to halt. The blizzard had begun at the huddle of huts which lay five miles from the Bishop’s estate. Durham was a few miles away but I still did not know if the Bishop could be trusted. I thought we could force our way through the blizzard but the snow was too deep for us and we barely made the welcoming light of the Bishop’s hall.

  The bishop had armed men there but they were no threat. There were but eight of them. The canon who was responsible for the estate welcomed us. It was a reserved welcome and he stressed that he was doing it for weary travellers. Clearly, he was not risking the ire of the Scots by giving us sanctuary. My father’s name and the shields of Dick’s archers had told him exactly who we were. Our horses needed the rest and, if I was to be honest with myself, my men needed it too. They had had little sleep and running battles since we had set out on our quest.

  That night, as I ate with Ralph, my knights, squires and Brother Peter we talked of the events of the last few days. Ralph and Brother Peter argued, “I care not what you say priest, the events were as a result of the Norns, the Weird Sisters!”

  “Nonsense! It is God’s hand I see in this.”

  Dick laughed, “It was Ralph’s hand which struck the young knight and the Norns who decided to smack his head against the parapet or did your God intend him to die?”

  Brother Peter was silenced briefly but he began again with robust arguments. Leaving them to it I said, “You know the weather better than I do. Will this affect our chances of making it home before the Scots catch us?” I was no fool. They would realise that we were heading for Stockton and not Barnard Castle. I hoped that the snow would delay the pursuit.

  “I fear we will be stuck here for at least a day. The roads are not good around here and we would be foolish to leave the safety of the Bishop’s hall and risk freezing to death on the road.”

  Sir Thomas frowned, “But will this not slow up the Scots too?”

  Dick shook his head, “They will have this snow, even further east, but there the roads are better and the snow will be less thick. Lord Alexander is at the New Castle. He will be ahead of us soon enough and a delay of a day means we will have to fight him to return home.”

  Sir Thomas’ face fell, “And we have just two knights, two squires and four men at arms.”

  I saw Dick’s face darken. I said quickly, “Are you forgetting your father’s comrades Thomas? Our archers
are more than the equal of a man at arms. They can use a bow and a sword.” Ralph of Bowness and Brother Peter had stopped arguing to listen to us, “Perhaps we should trust to God and not the Norns. Ralph’s Weird Sisters have placed us in this predicament. Let us hope that God wishes us to be saved.”

  Chapter 7

  We were stuck there the next day while the blizzard raged. It would have been foolish to move. The hall was warm and we had food. Even if the canon wished us to leave we could not. Our horses benefitted. There was feed and shelter. My men were able to recover. Brother Peter saw to our wounds. He applied salve to my hand. Ralph’s eye looked angry when Brother Peter tended to it but, as he wore a patch, it was normally hidden. The food also helped the Varangian to recover. We had found his axe, mail and helmet at the castle of Warkworth. He had insisted upon wearing them despite the fact that I knew the helmet was uncomfortable. He had been struck on the head with a hammer. He was a hard man. We had recovered some of his goods too. He had arrived in England with the coin he had collected while serving the Emperor but Lord Alexander had taken a good half of it. The theft rankled. I had asked him what were his plans.

  He looked a little discomfited at first and then smiled. He had lost a couple of teeth in his beating and his smile was somewhat lopsided. “You have always been honest with me and I will be the same. I would serve you or your father. I am no horseman but if you wish a wall defended or for someone to stand shield to shield then I am your man. I feel I owe these Scots something. I thought I had enough of fighting but since landing in England I have reconsidered. I am not yet ready to hang up my shield or take up the cross.” He had flashed a grin at Brother Peter who was not put out in the least. “I think I can still fight.” He shrugged, “You asked me…”

  “And I will answer you. I will take you as my bondsman and welcome.” If he gave me an oath then he would fight to the death for me. A warrior like Ralph would make a welcome addition to any conroi.

 

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