Henry II (The Anarchy Book 13)

by Griff Hosker

  I saw them halt before bow range or the range that Eustace thought that we could release an arrow. He then rode along the front of his army. His words were lost but it was patently obvious that he was exhorting his men to great deeds.

  “I can end his life now, lord. He is within range of my arrows.”

  “No, Dick, for this way his crossbows will advance into our killing range. I am not worried about Eustace but those crossbows could damage us. They have to be eliminated. We will be patient.”

  Eustace returned to the rear of the column of mounted knights who were behind the dismounted men at arms and knights. They would march up the road. A horn sounded three times and there was a mighty cheer as they headed up the road towards us. The ones crossing the ploughed field were already having difficulties. The men at arms began to sink in the mud. Their armour and weapons dragged them down. The fyrd began to overtake them for they wore no armour and carried only hand weapons and round wooden shields. Perhaps encouraged by the lack of arrows, they cheered as they passed their better armed comrades. Dick and his archers would not need to waste arrows on the fyrd. If they reached my men at arms and knights, they would be slaughtered. The crossbows, too, were encouraged to come closer than was wiser. As we were on a raised piece of ground they could use their crossbows over the heads of the fyrd and men at arms. They would be tempted to close with us. Their bolts could, like our bodkin arrows, pierce mail.

  The main body were making better progress for they came up the road. The twelve men in the centre of the line had it the easiest and, as the line was twenty men wide, four men on each side began to slip back as they struggled through the sodden ground. Phillip commanded the archers in that flank.

  Dick saw the crossbowmen stop and load their bolts. He chose his moment well. In one swift movement, his archers raised and released their arrows. Even as the forty arrows descended another forty flew into the air. The fyrd feared arrows and they raised their shields. To their surprise and relief, the arrows fell behind them. The arrows all found a mark and thirty odd crossbowmen fell writhing into the muddy field. The handful who survived, fled. The men at arms knew what the arrows meant. They were in range and they raised their shields as they ploughed on.

  “Switch targets!”

  Dick’s archers now began to aim their arrows at individual men at arms. Arrows would not be wasted. I switched my attention to the right. The men at arms and knights were less than two hundred paces from us but arrows would not be as effective against mail at that range. Phillip waited. My men at arms held their throwing spears ready for the last twenty feet.

  “Release!” When the enemy line was a hundred paces from us Phillip’s command unleashed a hundred arrows into the air. The sky became black. A hundred more followed and another hundred soon after. Shields were raised but arrows still found gaps. Plunging down the needlepoint steel barbs punched through mail, gambesons and into flesh. Those that struck shields made them heavier. I saw one man at arms, with half a dozen arrows embedded in his shield, try to remove them. The next two hit him in the neck and he fell dead.

  To the left the men at arms had been thinned considerably by Dick’s forty archers. The two hundred men of the fyrd approached my men at arms intact. I could see incredulity on their faces. They saw the chance to hit the forty men who stood between them and the archers and achieve a great victory. They were so close that they were an unmissable target. Forty throwing spears and forty arrows were sent at them. Sixty fell in the first assault. Before the stunned farmers could react a second shower struck them and there were just sixty men left standing. The fyrd do not take such losses and they turned and fled allowing my archers to rain death on the men at arms. I saw them break and run.

  The battle was now on the right. I moved towards the front line and squeezed in between Wulfric and Harold with James behind me. I had no spears but my men did. Wulfric roared, “Spears!”

  The advancing men at arms led by ten knights had their shields above their heads to protect themselves from arrows. They had no protection from the forty throwing spears which took out the front rank and half of the second rank. Before the ones behind could react, a second volley of spears hit them.

  Someone had endured this kind of attack before for I heard a voice shout, “Shield wall!”

  Although some were slow to react and died most managed to pull their shields above and around them to make a solid wall of shields. Unless they had practised they would not be able to walk but we would inflict no more injuries with spear and arrow.

  “Archers concentrate on the unarmoured men and horses. Warriors! With me!” I waved my sword and led my men forward. The shield wall was a great defence against missiles but only those on the outside could fight. They had also hampered themselves by not having enough blades before the shields. With my shield before me I strode towards the centre. The knight who had given the orders was there. Eustace of Boulogne had remained at the rear. It should have been he who gave the commands.

  As I stepped forward I punched hard with my shield. The wall was solid but my punch was hard. It made one of the shields move and my quick hand darted forward to stab in the gap. There was no resistance at first and then I felt it strike metal and so I twisted as I pushed. I saw the face of a man at arms before me. He did not wear a ventail. His grin turned to a grimace as I pushed harder. There was the sound of metal grating on metal and then I felt something soft. The grimace turned to a scream and then when blood came from his mouth I withdrew the sword. His body was only held in place by the men around him and when Wulfric’s axe smashed down on the next man the integrity of the shield was broken for as he fell so did the man I had killed and I stepped into the gap.

  In the confined space, there was no room for me to swing my sword. Wulfric used his axe to greater effect. Keeping his shield before him he brought his axe over his head to smash down on the shields of those before him. At the same time, Wilfred, who was on my right, used his war hammer. A deadly weapon he used the hammer side first to break through the shields and then turned it around to use the spike. I saw a man at arms with his head and helmet split in two as the spike drove through the metal and into his skull.

  The problem I had was that I knew not how the battle was going. I could only see a sea of shields before me. I jabbed and stabbed at any weakness but I had no idea how my archers and my left flank fared. I would have to trust to the skills of my captains and knights. A spear jabbed at my face. I could hardly move and I did not manage to escape it completely. It tore through my ventail and along my cheek. I had the salty taste of blood in my mouth. I brought up my shield to trap the spear against my enemy’s shield and I thrust forward with my sword. The man at arms with the spear tried to pull it back. My thrust did not have much power behind it but it did not need it for the mail had large links and my sword found the gap. It ripped into his side and I sawed it back out. Blood spurted and the man fell writhing on the ground.

  As he fell I realised that we had now created a hole in the enemy’s formation. There was space before me. “Wulfric, keep driving them forward. James come with me. I need to see how the battle is going!”

  Wulfric laughed, his face and armour bathed in our foe’s blood, “It is going well! We are winning!”

  I stepped backwards through my men. James turned and cleared a way. Most of the bodies through which I waded were our enemies although I still saw too many of our own men. As I passed back through them my men cheered. When I reached the archers, I said, “James, leave the standard here and fetch our horses.” I took the standard from him.

  “Aye Warlord.”

  I turned to Phillip of Piercebridge, “How goes it?”

  “Dick and Sir Tristan, along with Sir Gilles of Norton have driven their right flank from the field. They are holding for the enemy horse is gathering.”

  “And this flank?”

  “You have broken the spine of the men at arms and we have driven the fyrd back towards Tadcaster.”

  Our
reserves were now the men on our left. James brought Rolf and I mounted him. I handed the standard back to him. “Ride to Dick and tell him I want his archers to guard our left flank. Tell Sir Tristan and Sir Gilles to mount their men. We will see if this Eustace has any backbone.”

  “Aye lord.” He galloped off.

  I saw that Sir Gilles of Normanby was about to take his men at arms to support Sir Wulfric, his mentor. “Sir Gilles, mount your men. We will charge the enemy.”

  His face lit up, “Aye lord!”

  “Sir Phillip keep your men moving behind Sir Wulfric as they advance. Do not give them the opportunity to rally. I want those at the rear of their column slaughtering. Have your men at arms mount and follow me.”

  I could see, from the vantage point of the back of my horse, that Sir Wulfric and my knights were driving the enemy left flank backwards. Eustace of Boulogne and his mounted knights remained a threat and he was trying to rally the fyrd. We had to end the resistance with one mighty charge.

  As my men came behind me I said, “Column of fours, behind me. Knights to the fore!”

  I had three knights with me at the front and James and their squires behind me. I leaned down to pick up a spear which was embedded in one of our enemies. I walked my column down the road. I would not make the mistake of trying to charge across a ploughed field. I shouted, as I neared my men, “Clear the road for the Warlord!”

  It was Wulfric and Wilfred at the front with Sir Harold, Sir John and Sir Hugh. They began to push the enemy to the side. We had road on which to move and we gradually increased our speed. The sight of our horses made those fighting Sir Wulfric and the other nights begin to move away from the terrible hooves of our horses and suddenly the road was clear. The fighting shifted to the sides of the road. The quagmire would slow both sets of warriors down. I knew that I could rely on Sir Wulfric to end the threat of the men at arms.

  “On! We take the enemy horse!” As we burst through I saw Eustace trying to form a line of men. The fyrd heard our horses’ hooves thunder along the road. They had but recently rallied and our charge was too much. They broke for good and ran through the line of horsemen. Some of the horsemen went with them and that initiated a retreat which rapidly became a rout as Eustace and his knights joined them in their flight south. We could have stopped there but I needed the will of our enemy breaking. “Follow me!” With my forty men I pursued the eight horsemen and two hundred fyrd who fled.

  Chapter 10

  We began to gain on them at first for they had to race across the ploughed, boggy fields in order to reach the road. I took it steadily to maintain our formation. The fyrd wisely chose to keep to the fields. They knew the horses would not pursue them. They fled across the lakes and pools to the east and west of the road. Some would drown while others would succumb to their wounds but many would escape. Those that stayed on the road were slain as we moved down the Roman Road like a steel killing machine. I was happy for the fyrd to escape. It was the knights and the men at arms I needed to destroy.

  There was no order to the enemy flight save that Eustace and his leaders battered their way through their own men. There was a castle at Tadcaster. It was ten miles away and with just forty men I could not even contemplate taking it. This was a race. We might have won had not Eustace of Boulogne sacrificed some of his men. We were closing in on them and I saw the son of the usurper turning. He shouted something and twenty knights and men at arms suddenly wheeled and charged back up the road towards us. As they turned, I saw that they all bore the mark of Boulogne. These were his personal men at arms and household knights. He must have been desperate to sacrifice them.

  I pulled my shield around and held my spear like a lance. The twenty men who charged us had had no time to organize themselves. We rode boot to boot and they came at us piecemeal. The first two knights had lances and they came for me and Sir Tristan. I watched the tip of the lance of my enemy as it wavered up and down. I had recently jousted and I knew what to do. As the knight punched forward I stood in my stirrups and angled my shield. His lance glanced off my shield and I stabbed down at his neck. I felt the spear head grate off bone and then the head shattered. Bright blood spurted and the knight fell from his horse.

  Although Sir Tristan’s foe fell, his spear knocked Sir Tristan from his horse. A man at arms raised his lance to spear the stunned knight when James hurled my standard, like a javelin. It hit the man at arms in the face and he fell from his horse.

  A knight and a man at arms saw their chance and rode at me with lances aimed at my head. I had not the time to draw my sword. I punched with my shield at the same time as the knight hit me with his lance. My arm shivered but the lance shattered and Sir Gilles of Norton took his arm off with his sword. I used my mail mitten to fend off the man at arms’ spear and I grabbed hold of it and first pulled and then pushed. He was taken by surprise and he fell from his horse. James’ horse’s hooves smashed into his skull.

  I just had time to draw my sword as the next line of men at arms charged. Sir Phillip’s men at arms and Sir Gilles of Normandy thundered through us and into them. With fresh lances and keen to show what they could do the last of Eustace’s men fell. There was no pity amongst my men. All twenty died. They had done what they needed. Their brave charge had ensured that their lord and master could escape. Eustace of Boulogne was out of sight and we would not reach him before Tadcaster.

  “Collect the horses and put the mail, helmets and swords of the knights on them. You have all done well and will be rewarded when we are home.” I saw James retrieve my standard. “That was a fine throw. How is Sir Tristan?”

  The son of Sir Richard of Yarm walked unsteadily towards his horse, “Grateful to your squire, my lord!”

  We headed up the north road, gathering arms and mail as we went. When we neared the battlefield, we saw three huddles of prisoners. Wulfric’s baleful stare had them all cowed. There were four knights and squires, fifteen men at arms and the largest group were fifty disconsolate looking peasants and farmers; the fyrd. I saw that all of my knights and squires lived although some of the squires had wounds which were being tended to.

  I rode up to Wulfric and, after dismounting, clasped his arm. “That was well done Sir Wulfric.”

  “They fought harder than I expected.”

  I pointed to the surcoat of one of the dead knights. “They were English. These are the ones who believe in Stephen. Have the men at arms and knights taken to our camp. We will leave in the morning; for Stockton.”

  He looked surprised, “We have finished?”

  “No, but I want the men of York to think we have. We come home to change horses and to divide into three conroi. We will keep our swords in the backs of these supporters of Stephen. I want them to send messages to him to rid the north of this Warlord. If nothing else, it will weaken his treasury for he will have to hire more knights.”

  “Aye lord. I just wondered.”

  I walked over to the fyrd and addressed them, “You have all obeyed your lords and that is as it should be. You did not obey the rightful ruler of this land but that is not your fault. You can all go home but I want you to watch for the day when Henry FitzEmpress, Duke of Normandy returns to claim his crown. On that day I would expect all the men here to follow his banner.”

  They knuckled their foreheads and took to their heels. The next time the Sheriff called out the fyrd many of these men would have vanished. The slaughter of Fulford Ings would long live in the memory. I knew that we had not killed as many of them as we could have done but the survivors would exaggerate their losses. This too would hurt Stephen.

  We left the next day for the long journey back to Stockton. I intended to make the journey in one long day. The men of York would not know we had gone for two days, at least, and that would give us the chance to rearm and then raid once more. The winter of misery would continue for the Vale of York.

  I had James and some of my men at arms ride ahead to warn John and Alice of our arrival. When we neared St
okesley four of my knights left us. Sir Wulfric and Sir Gilles of Normanby headed east while Sir Hugh and Sir Phillip headed west. They had my commands. Sir Phillip and Sir Hugh would raid the manors to the west of York while Sir Wulfric and Sir Gilles would head towards Helmsley and the manors of the high fells. I would take the rest of my knights towards Tadcaster and the Roman Road.

  My castle was crowded for we had hostages as well as captured knights. I had given orders that all were to be treated well. When the war was finally over then these would be my neighbours. A peace needed bridges to be built and I made a start. I held a feast the first night after our return. We had cattle which needed slaughtering to manage their numbers: we could not feed them over winter. The knights who lived close to me were also invited with their families.

  Odo of Northallerton was seated at my table with his wife. He kept looking around at my hall. The long wall was dominated by the tapestry which Sir Gilles’ wife, Mary and her ladies had sewn. It was of St. George and the dragon although there was no mistaking that she had based the face of St. George on her husband.

  “You live well here, Earl. As well as the Sheriff and the Archbishop in York.”

  I nodded, “You sound surprised.”

  “You are surrounded by enemies. We expected half-starved burghers and wooden walls.”

  “That is what you have been told.”

  “The Sheriff kept telling us that between the Scots and King Stephen you were finished and were hanging on by your fingertips. None of us had seen you since the battle of the Standard.”

  I thought about that. I had been busy defending the borders from Scots and fighting for my Empress and her son. It was little wonder that they thought as they did. We had fought a couple of smaller skirmishes but nothing on the scale of my latest raid.

  “You know that Stephen cannot win.”