Sherebrook Castle was built on a large natural mound in the landscape and had an outer wall that ran right around the castle grounds and enclosed the entire complex. At regular intervals were round towers, the walls of which were dotted with cross shaped slits and topped with crenulated battlements. There was a ditch that ran around the base of the castle wall which was about ten metres wide and four metres deep. The ditch had very steep sides and had only one point at which it could be crossed; a drawbridge that led to a high-arched entrance gate which, in turn, was the main access point to the castle.
“Yes, it is magnificent,” agreed Charlie.
“This is Sherebrook Castle, home to my lord, Sir Richard Baldock the Earl of Sherebrook to whom my sword is pledged.”
Sherebrook Castle! Of course! Charlie now knew where he was. He had visited the ruins of Sherebrook with his mother and Gramps on a day out when he was smaller. It was about a two hour car ride from Putney, heading east toward Kent. The castle, in his time, was not really more than a pile of stones, with the remnants of some walls, and about half of the central keep tower still standing. He had not been there for some years because it was now deemed dangerous for people to enter and had started to become overgrown with creepers and weeds. Charlie was amazed to see it now standing as if it had been built yesterday!
“How old is this castle Sir Geoffrey?”
“You do ask the strangest questions Charlie Watts…um …now let me see, yes, that’s right, it will be three years old at the end of the summer. The Earl had it built to replace his last home, which had a lot of rotten wood and very little stone.”
Charlie had to admit that it was the most dramatic building he had ever seen. Charlie had seen castles on television, in books, in films and of course as ruins, but never like this, not as they were intended to be
seen, awesome, majestic and powerful. Elongated triangular flags waved from every conceivable point around the castle walls. The flags had a crest on them that looked like a black bear on a blue and white checked background, which Charlie assumed stood for the Baldock family.
Rufus’ heavy hooves drummed a bone shaking beat as they hammered across the drawbridge and under the black iron portcullis that was suspended above the gateway, ready to drop at a moment’s notice. Two men at arms that stood on either side of the main gateway brought their pikes to attention and one called out, “Good to see you Sir Geoffrey!”
The knight raised his hand in a deferential manner and replied; “Good to be back Edward, all is well?”
“All is well Sir Geoffrey,” replied the guard and watched as Rufus carried on into the main castle grounds. The guard’s gaze fell upon Charlie and he was intrigued by the strange apprehensive looking boy sitting behind Sir Geoffrey and clinging to the saddle. He thought there was something odd about the boy’s clothes and then seemed to further decide that is was not his concern and went back to guarding the gate, lowering his long-poled pike back into an ‘at ease” position.
Inside the castle walls the building arrangements appeared more orderly than in the village outside. There was a central street that ran from the main gates up to a second pair of gates. This second pair was set into another wall that encircled the main keep of Sherebrook Castle. The distance was about one hundred and fifty metres and the street was about ten metres wide and made of beaten earth that had dried rock hard in the baking summer sun.
Along the left side of the street were arranged a series of buildings that stretched back to the outer castle wall and consisted of several main types. There were open fronted buildings in which men were either working at forges or shoeing horses or working in leather. There was one building outside which were stacked a pile of newly made swords and new looking bows. A man sat outside this building on a long bench and he had a wooden block into which he inserted a long slender piece of wood, which was evidently an arrow. He was winding around the shaft a thin piece of twine to hold the white feathers of the flight in place. The arrow man glanced up at Sir Geoffrey momentarily as they went past and his gaze fell on Charlie. He smiled. His teeth were brown and cracked and Charlie did his best to smile back but then looked away quickly.
There were other buildings that were bigger and looked like dormitories. These looked like the quarters for soldiers and this was confirmed when two men emerged from one of the barracks both adjusting their tunics and carrying helmets. There was also the usual array of animal pens, small patches of ground with spindly looking crops of vegetables in and piles of refuse. Along the other side of the central street the area of the castle was dominated by a large grandstand and an arena. Charlie recognised this as a jousting area. There was considerable activity around the arena. Youths not much older than Charlie himself were walking around carrying armfuls of weapons and alternately diving into and emerging from about a dozen brightly colored tents.
The foul smell from the village outside the castle walls was not as evident here and Charlie guessed, correctly, that the people inside the castle had the benefit of a much better sanitation system. In fact, most of the castles waste was simply tipped over the walls or flushed into a small stream that ran under the castle hill, to appear in the river Shere about half a mile away.
The whole scene that was laid out before Charlie was exactly what he had expected. This, he thought, was what a medieval castle should look like; in fact it seemed almost like a film set from some movie. For a brief second Charlie convinced himself that this was a movie set and the whole thing was just a big joke. Then he remembered the dead robber and the reality of it came crashing back.
As Sir Geoffrey spurred Rufus up the gentle incline of the central street, to the next set of gates that led to the main keep building, they attracted more attention than when they had ridden through the village outside. Several small groups of children came laughing and running up to Rufus and ran ahead of him crisscrossing his path. They behaved like dolphins swimming in the bow wave of a huge ocean liner as it ploughed through the seas. A few adults stopped whatever activity they were engaged in and watched as Sir Geoffrey passed by. They all gestured with a wave or shouted a greeting. The knight courteously acknowledged each but he never slowed to indulge in conversation. Of course, they all paid special attention to Charlie but as soon as the two had passed by the interest died and they returned to their toils.
Finally, they reached the second set of gates that barred the way to the Earl’s family quarters and those of his closest aides and senior knights.
Within this part of the castle were the Earl’s kitchens and stores, his great hall and his treasury. This was the most secure building and could be defended almost indefinitely, even if the lower part of the castle were breached and overrun by attackers. These gates were closed and guarded with a little more care than the first gate. There were two guards who crossed their tall pikes and one of them demanded in a stern tone, “Halt, state your name and business.”
“Sir Geoffrey de Lancie of the manor of Bagshotte. I am the Captain of the Earl of Sherebrook’s castle protection force and I am returning, from leave, to the service of my Lord. Open the gates.”
The guards of the gate immediately relaxed and one of them moved to open the gates to the keep. As they moved through the gates Sir Geoffrey said to the guard that had challenged him, “well done Elric. No matter who comes to those gates, always challenge them. I am glad you remembered.”
“Yes Sir Geoffrey. It is good to have you back.”
“Good to be back,” said Sir Geoffrey again.
Once inside the main keep they entered a paved courtyard that was surrounded on three sides by high walls and on the fourth side there was a tower four stories high. This was the tower of the main keep. Sir Geoffrey brought Rufus to a halt then reached behind him and hauled Charlie off the steed and dumped him on the ground. He then dismounted himself, sliding off Rufus and letting out a mighty roar. He stretched his arms to the
sky and his backed cracked as the bones unlocked themselves.
There was an instant burst of activity and a young boy appeared from seemingly nowhere and immediately took Rufus’ reins and began leading the warhorse away back through the gate. A large round bellied, bearded man, nearly as big as Sir Geoffrey appeared from a doorway to the rear of the courtyard. He was so large and the doorway so small that he almost had to turn sideways to get through it. He was dressed in a tan coloured leather tunic that strained to contain his bulk and leggings that were purple and appeared to be made of wool. He wore black leather boots and had a long thin close quarter sword slung on his left side, on his right side was a scabbard that held a small dagger. In his left hand was a whole cooked chicken; a large part of which was in his mouth. His ruddy complexion coloured his face a bright red and when he spoke it sounded like a cannon going off in the small stone courtyard.
“Sir Geoffrey! You old rogue! You are four days late! Where have you been?” The man spoke in a series of thundering exclamations. He casually tossed the chicken away and then walked toward Sir Geoffrey with his arms outstretched. He cracked a wide smile that revealed the usual chipped and stained teeth.
“A few problems to clear up at my manor, the serfs of Bagshotte were on the verge of revolt because my estate manager had taken it upon himself to take from them a larger portion of taxes than I had agreed to.” Sir Geoffrey too held his arms out and the two huge men embraced, slapping each other heartily on the back. “It is good to see you Thomas.” He said when they broke the embrace.
“I trust you hanged the scoundrel?”
“Well, no,” said Sir Geoffrey almost apologetically. “I had him flogged and stripped of his title and belongings and then I sent him into the countryside to make a living off his own back rather than the sweat of others.”
“I swear you are getting too damn soft in your old age. When you were younger you would have dangled the rascal at the end of a rope.”
“Aye, maybe you are right Thomas. Perhaps age is softening me. It certainly seems to be softening my bones! I need to sit and relax a while. A couple of days on old Rufus are about all I can manage now.”
“Of course my old friend. Come into the kitchens and we can arrange some food for you and in the meanwhile your squire can prepare your rooms. I suspect Sir Richard can wait a while longer to see his chief knight.”
At the word “squire” Thomas turned to Charlie and did an immediate double take. He looked Charlie up and down and said, “And this is?”
“Charlie Watts. Pleased to meet you Thomas. I mean Sir Thomas.” Charlie held out his hand for a handshake and for a few seconds Thomas was completely nonplussed. Then he regained his composure and bellowed “Don’t be impudent boy!” and swung one off his huge meat-like hands at Charlie’s head but before it made contact it was stopped in mid air by the huge fist of Sir Geoffrey.
Charlie was stunned at the speed with which the old knight had moved and was equally impressed with the sheer strength he had. Thomas was just about the strongest looking man he had ever seen and his blow had been stopped dead in mid-air.
“Much as I agree with your stance on impudence my dear friend, Thomas, I must tell you that young Charlie here is my new squire and he has already proved his worth by saving my life today. You will also see by his complete disregard for protocol, and his strange use of language, he is not from these parts. Please forgive him this once. Actually, I suspect he may be a little soft in the head.”
Sir Geoffrey released Thomas’ wrist immediately and Thomas gave what appeared to be a grunt of agreement and seemed to let the matter go.
“Hmm…” he muttered, “I am not sure I approve of this lack of discipline, but for you Geoffrey…” he hesitated a moment shooting another scowl at Charlie, “I will let the young rascal off.” He beamed another smile and shouted as loudly as he could, which was extremely loud, “Nick…. NICK!”
At that point a new person appeared from the same doorway that Thomas had emerged from. This man was no more than a youth, perhaps sixteen, Charlie guessed, and he was an altogether different type to Thomas and Sir Geoffrey. He was tall, perhaps six feet, very bony and white-skinned and had long greasy black hair. He had on a pair of black leggings and a black fabric tunic, which was open nearly to the navel, revealing a blindingly white chest. His face was clear of facial hair except for a few black wisps of fluff under his nose and on his chin. He didn’t look friendly at all. Charlie noticed that Sir Geoffrey’s demeanour changed as this new person approached and a look of dislike crossed his face.
“Master Thomas?” asked Nick as he approached. As he walked Charlie noted that he resembled a scuttling spider; spindly, fast and thin. He appeared annoyed at having been summoned.
“This is Sir Geoffrey’s new squire. His name is. um.” he looked enquiringly at Sir Geoffrey.
“Charlie Watts,” said Sir Geoffrey.
“Yes, of course. Charlie Watts. Show him the stables so that he can gather Sir Geoffrey’s belongings. Then show him to Sir Geoffrey’s rooms so that he can prepare them for his master.”
Nick glanced at Charlie with a look of sheer disdain. Charlie immediately recognised it with a sinking feeling. It was exactly the look that Mick Clark would often give him before a session of hard bullying.
Thomas turned his attention back to the knight and said “Longhaired Nick will make sure your squire has the knowledge he needs. You can come inside now.”
Charlie looked at Sir Geoffrey who gave him an almost imperceptible nod of assurance before disappearing inside the main keep of the castle with Thomas. Charlie was left with Longhaired Nick in the courtyard.
“So then,” said Nick, walking around Charlie and eyeing him up and down, “you’re a squire are you?”
Okay thought Charlie, I’ll give him a chance, maybe my instincts are wrong. I shouldn’t go by looks alone.
“Well, actually, yes and no. I wasn’t a squire until this morning but I am one now, because Sir Geoffrey told me I am. But to be honest with you Nick, I don’t really know what a squire does. Perhaps you can help me out a bit, you know, show me the ropes and make sure that I don’t make a hash of it!” Charlie gave a small hesitant laugh to see if a bit of good humor would break through onto the face of Longhaired Nick. It didn’t.
“Look Charlie Watts, I don’t understand what you just said but let me tell you one thing. In this castle, I take charge of the pages, grooms, kitchen lads and squires and you don’t mean anything to anyone. Understand? All you are is a squire and a novice at that. You will sleep on thresh and have no door of your own. If you want to do anything around the castle, you ask me for my approval. Is my meaning clear to you Charlie Watts?”
By now Longhaired Nick was right in front of Charlie, just a few inches away, towering over him, and his gray dead looking eyes were boring into Charlie’s. Here we go again, thought Charlie before replying, “Yes Nick, I understand. I take it that you don’t like me and I’m a geek. etcetera, etcetera.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” said Charlie.
“Where are you from, your speech is strange.”
“Putney,” said Charlie.
“Oh I have been there. It is a dung hole full of arses, like you Charlie Watts.” Nick’s face was twisted; it seemed, into a perpetual sneer.
“Yes, you are quite right Nick, it is. Where are the stables?” said Charlie all of a sudden feeling too tired to argue.
“Find ‘em yourself. And you can find Sir Geoffrey’s quarters yourself.”
And with that Longhaired Nick turned and disappeared back into the castle like a black rat down a hole.
Charlie watched him go for a few seconds then snapped himself out of it. He guessed it was about seven o’clock in the evening. He had not had his watch on when he had walked through the time tunnel (…portal…cupboard… whatever-h
e didn’t know what to call it) but even if he had he didn’t know if the time it would have showed would have been right for this place. The dusk had gathered and he realised that he had better get moving. He did not want to let Sir Geoffrey down.
He followed the two grooms who had taken Rufus away and emerged from the courtyard into the bailey of the castle-the inner village. On his left was the clear area as well as the jousting arena that he had seen on his way in. To his right were all the other buildings so he decided that this was the side where he was more likely to find the stables. He made his way along the base of the inner keep wall, around to the right, and there was a reasonably wide path that he could follow, which he also noticed had been churned up by heavy horse hooves. He suddenly heard a high-pitched neighing sound that was definitely made by a horse. It sounded like Rufus. He turned left and found himself in a mini courtyard. Along two sides of it were horse stables.
The stabling was comprised of two rows of horses all tethered to posts. He estimated that there were as many as forty horses and he saw Rufus immediately. A groom was attending the big warhorse and had completely removed all of the tack, the saddle, and the blanket and stacked it all in a pile right next to another pile which was Sir Geoffrey’s belongings. Charlie realised with dismay that the belongings made quite a big pile and he walked over to study it. There were the two enormous saddle bags, the shield, the huge broad bladed battle sword in its scabbard, a sack full of something soft looking, probably clothing and a wicker basket that contained four earthen flasks that were sealed with stoppers of wood and packed in straw to prevent them banging together.
Charlie sized up the bundle and wondered whether he could carry it all in one go. He picked up the basket and his heart sank. It was so heavy that he doubted he could carry more than just this alone. He wondered how Rufus had carried all of this as well as Sir Geoffrey covered in armour and chain mail and Charlie.
Charlie Watts and the Rip in Time Page 8
