Once the men at arms had passed us I said, “Shields!”
I held mine before me and peered over the top. There were no embrasures at head height. If I kept my gaze downward then, in theory, I should have been safe from a bolt. Arne and Wilson held their shields before us while James placed his above us, across the middle. That allowed the other James and John to use their shields to protect the side. James, James and John had their spare hand tucked inside the belts of Wilson, Arne and myself. It helped to keep us together. We carried no spears. This would be sword and knife work.
I set the pace by shouting, “Sword, shield, sword, shield!” The men moved their sword leg and then their shield leg. I took small steps and we moved after the ram. I was peering over the top of my shield. I wanted to move steadily. Even so we began to catch the ram as it laboured up the slope. The ram was sturdy and heavy. I knew that, behind us, the second ram would have begun its journey. I heard the twang of bow strings as my archers picked out targets. Then bolts hit our shields. As I had expected they were aiming for us. The ram had a hide and wood roof. When they neared the wall then stones would plummet down and they would do the damage but eight men struggling up a slope were a better target for a crossbow.
I heard a strangulated cry and heard Rhodri shout, “Got you, you bastard!” It would be a battle of wits between my archers and the crossbows. The advantage my men had was that they could send six or seven arrows for every bolt. They could send an arrow at the slits and, if they were lucky, it might bounce off the wall and cause a wound. Even a glancing blow could send pieces of stone into the face of the crossbowman. A tiny splinter of stone could blind.
As we neared the rear of the ram I said, “Slow!” Timing was all. When we reached the back of the war machine I lifted my shield and placed it over my head. We now had extra protection. James moved his shield back a little and the two at the rear were better protected. My four archers were sending four or five flights at the enemy and then moving their willow shields further up. The other archers did not move. Their task was to continue to rake the walls.
I could see through the ram. The gate was just forty paces from us. Bolts were rattling off the shields of my man and archers. I heard them strike the ram but the hide covering prevented penetration.
From the front, the sergeant at arms shouted, “They have something hot for us!”
A young knight asked, “Oil or water?”
The sergeant laughed, “It makes no never mind, lord, either way it will burn your balls off!”
I shouted, “Keep going! We have the finest archers in the land. If they are going to pour hot fire on us they have to show themselves. Trust the archers and to God!”
“Aye lads and we have the Warlord with us! That little pipsqueak will be wetting himself! We have the Wolf Banner! It has never failed yet! On lads!” The sergeant at arms had done this before.
I felt a stone ping off my helmet and then, a moment later my head was shaken as a bolt struck it. The helmet held and the leather cap I wore saved hurt. Both were glancing blows but I was grateful to Alf for making such a strong helmet. As we neared the walls the missiles striking helmets and shields increased. We were now closer to the gate and the ground was flattening out. The ram moved faster. “Keep the same pace!”
I heard a cry and saw a rock fall in front of the gate followed by a man at arms with an arrow in his chest. I also saw that the gate had two large vertical cracks and several smaller ones.
“Aim for the large crack!” When we were just ten paces from the gate a rock crashed into the roof of the ram. It was a large rock. It tore one of the hides from the roof and fell by the side of the ram. I said nothing but the first defence against fire had gone. We were leaning into the ram now. Our mailed weight made it move faster and our speed was faster than it had been. We thudded into the door. As stones clattered on to the roof the men inside the ram pulled back on their ropes.
The sergeant at arms yelled, “Now!” The ropes were released and the ram cracked into the door. There was another scream from above and this time a body fell onto the roof.
Then I heard Robert of Sheffield shout, “Ware above! Fire!” he had seen the smoke which told him that they had brought something heated to the battlements.
Despite my archers’ best efforts, they had managed to pour something hot. It was boiling water. If the stone had not torn the hide then we might have escaped unscathed. As it was the four men beneath the racked roof were doused in boiling water. It penetrated their mail and burned their skin. They screamed. The sergeant shouted, “It will pass boys! Come on keep the ram going!”
It was as we helped the ram to smash a second time that I realised the mistake the defenders had made. They could not use oil now. The wood had been struck by water. Although boiling it was still water and the ram would be harder to ignite. That was no consolation to the men who still screamed in pain. Stones continued to clatter and boiling water fell a second time. This time it hit the undamaged hides. Men were spattered with boiling water but none screamed.
The Sergeant at Arms shouted, “Lord, I can see daylight!”
That gave us hope and the men pulled with renewed vigour. I heard the second ram trundling up behind us. A bolt came through the crack in the wood. It struck the sergeant in the shoulder. He made not a sound and continued to pull on the rope. Suddenly there was a crack. The gate had a hole in it.
“One more should do it!”
Another bolt came through the hole and then there was a cry and Rhodri shouted, “Another one to Wales!”
Rhodri’s arrow was too late for the sergeant. This bolt had plunged through his coif and into the brave sergeant’s neck. Blood sprayed us all.
“Keep going!”
The next swing was the one which broke the gate and the hearts of the defenders. It hit the bar holding the gate and it shattered.
“Push!” Drawing my sword, I stepped under the roof of the ram and swung my shield around. The weight of the ram and the men pushed us into the gateway. We had a way in but then defenders ran to the front of the ram and, using spears to thrust them into the first two men pushing the wooden beast.
“Step to the middle and let us through! Henry!”
I ran crouched along the ram. I saw more men racing to get at the men at arms inside the ram. I burst out and just ran at the nearest man at arms. I think he was taken by surprise. My shield smashed into his face and he fell down. I stamped on his face and swung my sword at the middle of the second man. Arne and Wilson were alongside me and our three swords swashed before us and bought the rest of my men time to join me. The ram continued to trundle through the gate and it allowed my archers in as well as the second, undamaged, ram.
“God be with us!” I ran towards the right-hand tower. My archers led the other archers to begin to send arrows at the warriors who raced through the second gate to get at us. Geoffrey had been ill advised. He should have taken the loss of the barbican and defended the second gate. As it was the men he sent to rid the barbican of us fell to my archers’ arrows. The men who had attacked us made a second mistake. They failed to bar the door to the barbican. As one traitor ran through it I stabbed him in the side before he could close it. I stepped over his body and hurtled after the others who were racing up the stairs. They should have turned to stop me. A defender always has the advantage on a spiral staircase. They did not. I slashed across the hamstrings of the man above me and he tumbled down. They kept running upwards. They were desperate to get to the fighting platform. These were not real warriors. They did not know how to defend. We, on the other hand, were past masters of attack.
I burst out on to the fighting platform at the same time as Arne. His tower had been similarly poorly defended. The defenders on the fighting platform had no shields. They ran at us with spears. I batted one away with my shield and then rammed my sword into his middle. I pulled it out and, after blocking a spear to my head, dropped to one knee and hacked beneath the byrnie of a knight. My sword bit in
to his leg. Arne was fighting like a man possessed. Backed by Wilson, the two of them carved a path towards me. As Harry and John fell upon the survivors I heard a cheer from our lines. I looked up and saw my banner fluttering from the top of the tower. James had not forgotten my command. We had done what I had said.
I turned and growled, “Surrender now and you live. Resist and you will die!”
The ten survivors from the garrison threw down their weapons. Rhodri led my archers and some of Leofric’s up the stairs and they began to rain arrows on to the fighting platform below us. At the same time the second ram, filled with fresher men, was being pushed towards the second gate. The first ram, with fewer men, was following more slowly. I knew that William would be bringing the onagers up too. I could hear the rumble of their wheels. It was as I looked across to the Tour de Coudray that I saw the standard of Geoffrey Fitz Empress being lowered. It was the sign that they had surrendered. The men all around me began to cheer. The men in the rams saw the lowered standard and they left the confines of their rams and began to chant, “Warlord! Warlord! Warlord!” The rebellion was over.
I saw that my men were bloodied but stood. I nodded and raised my sword to them. “Our first foray together and it went well. Take what you will from the dead.”
“Thank you, Warlord.”
As my new men began to strip the mail from the knights and men at arms, as well as the purses and swords they carried, I turned to James. I pointed to the standard, “That was expediently done.”
“I was glad to be doing something. It felt as though I was doing nothing just carrying the standard.”
I took off my helmet. There were dents and marks from the stones and the bolts they had sent at us, “It did what it was supposed to. It drew the missiles to me and the ram was able to do its job.
“Lord, the second gate is opening.”
“Thank you Will. When you have taken all that you wish have the prisoners taken to our camp. The King will decide their fate.”
One of the prisoners said, “The King said he would be clement.”
I rounded on the man, “And that was before you fought us. You cannot be treacherous and then expect clemency. You chose the wrong brother!” I slipped my shield across my back and said, “Come James, we will join the King,”
The bodies still lay on the stairs as we descended. James shouted up the stairs, “And there are bodies here too, Arne!”
“Thank you, Master James.”
We had to be careful for the narrow staircase was slick with blood and gore. I heard the tramp of feet up the ramp as we left the gloom of the guardhouse and stepped into the sun. William and the King were there. The King clasped my arm, “Where would I be without you, Alfraed? None else, not even my uncle, could have done what you did.”
“You have brave men.” I pointed to the dead sergeant at arms. “He was braver than the rest. If he has family they should have some riches from this.”
The King nodded. “Phillip, make enquiries.”
“Aye lord.”
“And now let us see what my brother has to say for himself.”
King Henry showed that he was a true leader that day. He could have ridden up the ramp at the head of a triumphant army but he did not. He marched with the rest of us. It endeared him to those who knew him. There were others who said he was cold and uncaring. He was not. I know that I was biased but the press of men behind us as we walked up to the second gate was testament to their loyalty and men are not loyal to a poor leader.
As we passed the two rams the men and knights who had been inside them were waiting. They cheered and banged the side of the ram. The joy of victory was on their faces. The horror of the water and the stench of death was passed. They had survived. To have only lost a few men in an attack was a wondrous thing. It was no wonder they were happy. Those in the rams would be rewarded for their efforts. The couple of knights who had volunteered could expect manors while the men at arms would have that which they wanted, coin. Geoffrey would lose his treasury. The knights who had supported him would lose manors. Some would go to Henry’s men while others sold and the coin given to Henry’s loyal troops. War was a gamble. The price you paid was in blood and gold.
The gates stood open and Geoffrey, flanked by the knights who had supported him, stood bareheaded and awaiting us. Behind them were the men who had defended Chinon. This was a castle with but one way in and one way out. The only way down was to scale the walls. None had done what Charles of Alençon had done and fled. They were all there to take their punishment.
William Fitz Empress showed his increasing maturity, authority and confidence. He shouted, “Bow to your rightful Count and King. Make obeisance to King Henry of England, Duke of Normandy and Count of Anjou, Maine and Touraine!”
I saw Geoffrey give a surprised look at his younger brother and then he, like all the rest dropped to one knee.
Henry nodded his thanks to his brother, “We gave all of you the chance to surrender. Then you might have expected clemency. As it is you refused the offer and fought. If I wished it then all of you could lose a nose or a hand as mark of the traitor.” I saw him let that sink in. “Viscount,” he turned to William, “have our rebellious brother taken to the Great Hall and I will join him there.”
“Aye, your majesty.” With his household knights around him William led his brother towards the royal apartments.
Henry turned to Robert de Gavette, “Bring up men to man these walls.”
“Aye, your majesty.”
“Guillaume of Angouleme, I would have the knights separated from the men at arms. I will speak with the common soldier. Have the knights taken to the inner bailey. I will speak with them there.”
“Aye, your majesty.”
While the two knights began to marshal their charges, Henry took me to one side. “There are more prisoners than I thought there would be. What do we do?”
I pointed to the men at arms, “I know these men. They obeyed their lords. These are not swords for hire. These are the same men who fought for your mother and your father in the war. They thought they fought for your family still. Most are good men. They deserve a chance.”
He nodded, “You are right.” He turned to one of the priests who had accompanied us. “Father Michel, fetch me a bible from the chapel.”
“Aye, your majesty.”
When the knights had been led into the castle and Father Michel returned with the Bible, the King said, “You have all been led astray by my young brother. Kneel now and swear, on this Holy Book never to take arms against your rightful ruler.”
Every man knelt. They were grateful for the chance of life. Most of them did not know Henry. They had heard that he was both cold and cruel. Now that he showed them mercy they could not wait to swear allegiance.
Leaving others to take the men at arms down to our camp we headed for the inner bailey. “And now these. Were these led astray or were they motivated by greed and the hope of power?”
As we approached them I saw that there were about sixty knights. I recognised some of the older ones. I slowed and the King slowed with me. “Some of these are good knights, lord. Perhaps they could be used.”
“Used?”
“The rebellion is over. I assume you do not want to waste time and effort hunting down Charles of Alençon?”
“I would have him punished but you are right. He is not important enough now. He is that grain of sand in the bottom of my mail. It irritates but does not hurt. How can we use them?”
“Wales. We need knights to go to Wales. If we take these knights then they cannot be subverted by Louis or Theobald and we will need men to fight. Offer them the chance to redeem themselves.”
He smiled, “We gain an army with little effort. You are a wise warrior, Alfraed.”
“Wisdom comes with age and there are few left who have lived as long as I have.”
He nodded and we continued walking towards them. They looked sorry for themselves. With heads hung low they expected
the worst. All had heard, before the assault, our words, and knew that they could expect dire consequences from their actions. I have no doubt that many of the older ones would have risked fighting on had their young leader not surrendered. They were like me. You fought until you could not fight any longer. There was always hope.
After he had allowed them to feel uncomfortable in the silence he had created the young King said, “You have disappointed me. My mother, my father and my uncle led many of you to fight our enemies and unify my lands. The Warlord has fought alongside many of you. I have not taken lands from you and yet you chose to rebel against me. Do any of you deserve mercy?” It was a rhetorical question. The younger knights blanched.
“However, I believe that every knight should be given the chance to redeem himself.” Faces lifted at the glimmer of hope which appeared in Henry’s words. “I am taking an expedition to Wales. There Maredudd ap Gruffydd has taken English land and I intend to reclaim it. If any wishes to keep their manors then they will bring their men and accompany me to Wales.” He paused to let that sink in. “The alternative is to lose your manors and be banished.”
With such a choice, every knight and baron clamoured to join what they saw as a crusade against the Welsh. Just as Henry’s great grandfather had persuaded his knights to come to England with the lure of land in another country, so Geoffrey’s knights were easily suborned.
As we left them Henry said, “And now we grasp the nettle. My brother will not be so easy.”
The Welsh Marches (The Anarchy 1120-1180 Book 15) Page 17
