by Griff Hosker
“And William?”
“Will come. He has grown and when we knight you he will need to be ready. Your mother understands. The fact that you survived so well gives her hope.”
It was the first week in May when Robert Fitz Clare and his escort galloped in. He threw himself from his saddle, “Lord Prince Louis has taken the town of Lincoln. The castle is besieged and the Earl Marshal needs you and your men!”
I had been ready for the call and my riders rode out immediately to summon my knights. We would meet south of the river at Yarm. Sir Ralph and Sir Peter would meet us close to Catterick. To Sir Robert it seemed as though I was some sort of magician. “Not so but I have planned for this since we returned from Warkworth. I take it the Earl is marching in secret to Lincoln?”
“He is! How did you know?”
“He is a complete commander. Surprise is everything. Prince Louis will think that he is in the west, or the south. I am guessing that we meet north of Lincoln.”
“Aye lord! Stowe! Do you have second sight?”
“No, but it is what I would do. I am afraid that we will be leaving here by the third hour of the night. We have to do the journey in less than two days. By leaving in the hours of darkness we can steal a march. The rebels will have spies close by watching for my departure. I will leave my standard flying and we will simply slip across my river. No matter what, within a day or so they will know that we have gone but by then we will be at Lincoln and then it will not matter.”
We slipped across the Tees silently on the ferry. There were no trumpets, there were no thundering horses. We went like thieves in the night. There were men waiting for us at Yarm. The old castle was long gone. It had been made of wood and had been one of Prince John’s first vindictive acts after Stockton had been destroyed. By the time dawn broke we were approaching Northallerton. Unlike my castle this one was a hive of activity. I saw lights in the windows and men were up and about.
“I have food for your men, Sir Thomas. I know that the horses will need a little rest. I have ten Yorkshire knights.” He saw my face fall and smiled, “I have left twice that number to watch this land. This county and the See are safe and the gateway to the Tees is secure!”
With just Sir William absent this was a reunion of the knights who had fought for me in Anjou and Normandy. The men who had rescued the Fair Maid of Brittany were reunited. Here Ralph was not Sheriff of York he was Ralph the earnest squire. Less youthful but still the same. After the horses had been fed and watered, when the men had eaten hot bread and freshly cooked ham we left. This time we did not ride through York. We rode due south. I had said that we might take two days but as we ate up the miles and passed the Roman markers which had stood for a thousand years I began to hope that we might make Stow by the time darkness fell. We changed horses every ten miles. We drank the water from the troughs in the towns and villages through which we passed and left them dry. We ate as we rode but we moved at the fastest pace I had ever known.
My mind was filled with the coming battle. The Earl Marshal would not risk the young King unless he thought that we could win. That alone was the reason for my haste. As soon as Prince Louis and Fitzwalter knew that the young King was close to Lincoln then the siege would become irrelevant and they would try to end the war by capturing the King. We had sworn to protect the King and we would do so.
I knew that William was finding the journey hard. Alfred and I had ridden as far many times before but for him this was new and I saw the pain and discomfort on his face each time we stopped. We had brought Alan the horse master with us and he offered advice to my son each time we changed horses. William would remember this, his first campaign, for the rest of his life.
We reached Stow just after dark. We had travelled almost fifty miles in one day since we had left Northallerton. One of my ancestors had once walked from London to Stamford Bridge to fight the Vikings and had done so in less than seven so I did not feel as elated as some of those with whom we rode. As we saw the camp fires Sir Robert said, “A remarkable feat, Earl. I would not have believed we could have done what we did in such a short time.”
“I lead good men, Sir Robert.”
He nodded. “I envy you. The Earl Ranulf has good men too but they cannot compare with these.”
Stow was little more than a church surrounded by houses. Less than ten miles from Lincoln it meant we would be attacking from the opposite side of Lincoln to the French and rebels who were in the town side. The Earl was seated outside the church. There was a fire burning and I saw the Earl of Chester and William Longespée with him as well as the young King. Henry was kitted out in a mail hauberk but I doubted that the Earl Marshal would allow him to get close to the fighting. When he saw me the Earl Marshal stood, “You must have ridden Pegasus to reach here so quickly Earl!”
I nodded, “I thought it urgent. We left at night so that our enemy would not know I had gone until it was too late.”
“Aye well your arrival is timely. The enemy are led by the Comte de Perche.”
“Prince Louis is not with them?”
“He has returned to the siege of Dover. It is another reason why I have chosen to make this the place where we begin to drive the invader hence. Fitzwalter and the leaders of the revolt are here at the siege. Our scouts have stopped the French and the rebels from determining our true numbers. Like you and your battle most of the men arrived secretly. He thinks this force is led by the Earl of Chester alone. You know this castle better than most for you and I were here recently. I have told these my plan what would you do?”
It was a test. “The east and west gates to the castle have barbicans and they will be hard to take. I am guessing that de Perche is attacking from the south. The north gate to the town is not the strongest. I would attack the north gate with archers and then force it with stout men.”
I saw Ranulf de Blondeville laugh, “The same plan, to the last detail as the Earl Marshal conjured.”
“Good. We will need your archers Sir Thomas. They are the best.” He pointed to his right. “Falkes de Breauté and his crossbows will support you. Your horses have had a hard ride. The rest of us will be mounted. Could you and your knights take the gate with an attack on foot?”
“Aye, Earl I have great faith in my men at arms and knights. When do we attack?”
“We leave while it is still dark. When dawn breaks I would have us at Lincoln’s north gate.”
“Then I had best speak with my men.”
“There is food.”
“Thank you Ranulf but I will speak with my men first.”
As I expected David of Wales and his archers were unhappy about having to fight alongside Falkes de Breauté’s crossbows. “Look at it this way, David, we know that they will not force the gate but you and your archers will.”
“Aye lord. We are all on the same side, I suppose!”
“Ridley, we need men with axes to be at the fore. We force the gate and hold it. That will allow the Earl Marshal and the rest of the army to enter Lincoln. The French have miscalculated. If they knew there was an army here they should have come to stop us. The Lady of Lincoln will not yield her walls and once we are in the town then, no matter how many men they have, we will succeed.”
Alfred and William had secured me some food. As I ate I told them what they would be doing. “Alfred you will be behind me tomorrow. Your task is to watch my back. William, you will watch the horses. A siege and the fighting there is not the place for someone who has little experience of such things.”
For once William accepted his fate. He already knew that King Henry would be left, under guard, with the horses. I knew that he saw himself protecting the King should danger arrive. I knew that would not happen. If the King was threatened then we would have lost the battle and the Earl Marshal and myself would be dead!
We reached the outskirts of Lincoln by dawn. We were spotted. There were too many of us. We could not remain hidden. The French and the rebels did not rouse themselves to chase us he
nce. My knights, archers and men at arms dismounted. The Earl Marshal, the knights and the other mounted men waited on the road. Behind them were the foot soldiers. I raised my sword and, along with Falkes de Breauté, marched towards the town walls. The knights and men at arms walked in front of the archers and crossbowmen. We held our shields before us. Arrows and bolts thudded into them. We stopped two hundred paces from the town wall. There was no ditch and no drawbridge. I heard David of Wales order our archers to draw. Crossbows clicked. When the order was given to release I thought a cloud had passed overhead. Some bolts and arrows struck the stone walls and the wooden gate but most struck flesh.
I was not wearing my helmet. I had left that with William. An arming cap would suffice. I shouted, “Forward, men of Cleveland! For God and King Henry!”
With a roar we ran forward. Neither arrow nor bolt stopped us. We reached the gate and held our shields above us. The hammer and crack of axes on wood soon filled the air. I heard French voices within the town shouting. It mattered not. We had made the gates without losing a single man. Ridley and Henry had relays of men at arms wielding the axes and it did not take long to break them. We burst in through the gates.
I shouted, “David, take your archers to the fighting platform. Rain death on the siege lines.”
“Aye lord.”
“Falkes de Breauté, take your crossbows to the roof tops!”
As the archers and the crossbows ran to their positions we stood aside to allow the horsemen led by the Earl Marshal to gallop in. The siege lines were less than half a mile away but none responded to our attack. Perhaps they thought it was just a force of raiders. Had they attacked us then who knows what the result might have been but they did not and our knights and mounted men at arms poured through the gates.
Raising my sword, I led my men through the narrow streets. This way the Earl Marshal could use the wider road. His horses would find it hard to move along these narrow ways. This was the perfect place for my men to fight. Each one was a complete warrior. As we ran, French soldiers ran to meet us. Dotted amongst them I saw the surcoats of rebel barons. What I did not see were leaders. In the narrow streets it was hard to swing a sword. I held mine low with my shield before me. I turned the first French man at arms’ sword with my shield and brought my sword up under his shield and through his leather jerkin. He fell to the ground. I barely broke my stride. It felt good fighting without a helmet. There was a risk of injury but the increased vision and hearing compensated for that.
Men were falling before us and we reached the siege lines before the horsemen. Our archers and crossbowmen were sending arrows and bolts into the midst of those who had been attacking the walls. This was not a battle on an open field where a man saw the enemies immediately before him. The buildings of the town and the castle were a barrier all around us. The men who had been besieging Lincoln were armed and many were mailed. This would be a long and bloody battle. I heard the horsemen, led by the old Earl Marshal as they thundered into the town. Even with buildings shielding us I still felt their hooves as they made the ground shake.
Edward and Ralph flanked me and they were flanked, in turn by Sir Peter and Sir Fótr. Behind me came our squires and my men at arms. We would fear no foe. We were fighting Frenchmen. They were less familiar with my livery. They soon came to recognise and fear it.
A French knight wielding a mace led a handful of French knights towards us. Perhaps I would regret not wearing my helmet. A blow from a mace might not be fatal to a knight wearing a helmet but an arming cap was something else. It was a mace which was as long as my sword. As he swung I timed the block and the angle of my shield to perfection. If I had met it square on then I would have risked breaking my arm. I allowed the mace to slide down the side of my shield, the weight pulled his arm down, exposing his middle. I swung my sword. He could not match my parry for the sword hit across his shield. I put my weight behind it and he reeled backwards. Stepping on to my right foot I brought my sword over arm. He was unbalanced and he struggled to completely block my blow. The end of my sword hit his helmet. It stunned him and he fell a little further backwards. As I stepped and lunged forward I exposed myself to an attack from the side. A man at arms lunged at my unprotected right side with a spear. I would have been a dead man had it struck. Alfred brought his own sword down to shatter the spear in two and then he backhanded his sword across the throat of the man at arms. As the French knight tried to recover I punched him in the face with my shield and he toppled over the body of a crossbow man slain by one of my archers. Before he could cry for mercy I stabbed him in the chest. He had good mail and I had to lean on my sword to shatter the links and pierce his heart.
We were now within the siege works around the north gate of the castle. The French and the rebels must have thought, when they saw my knights, that I had made some sort of suicidal attack with a handful of men. It was the sort of reckless action for which I was famed. All knew of my affection for the Lady of Lincoln. They did not retreat and that would have been the wisest option. They fought and they came for me.
The battle soon degenerated into small battles between handfuls of knights and men at arms. The barons and the knights sought me. I became slightly isolated. I had Ridley and Alfred with me. The rest of my household knights had been pulled to the side defending me from those attacks. We were close to their catapults and rams. I saw Robert Fitzwalter and his son, Robert leaving the siege lines to come for me. They did not come alone. They had with them four men at arms. If they could eliminate me then they might dream that the attack would fizzle out. Ridley stood on my right with his axe and Alfred on my left.
The younger Fitzwalter saw my squire and in him recognised an easy target. He swung his sword contemptuously at my son’s head. Alfred had sparred with Ridley the Giant. When my captain of men at arms’ blow hit you then it was like a ram hitting a gate. Alfred had endured many such blows. His arms were like knotted oaks and he took the blow easily. He traded blows and swung his own sword diagonally downwards. Ridley had taught him the stroke. Robert Fitzwalter fell backwards and cracked his head on the wheel of a ram. He lay still. The elder Fitzwalter came at me. He brought with him a man at arms for support. I smashed my shield into the face to the leader of the rebel barons and I blocked the man at arms’ sword. Hooking my right leg behind his left I suddenly pushed and he toppled backwards. This was not a place of honour and as Fitzwalter swung his sword at my shield I skewered the man at arms in his neck. Fitzwalter’s blow was weak.
Ridley faced two men but he was Ridley the Giant. He had long arms and he used them to good effect. He held his shield before him and then swung his axe diagonally. It smashed through the side of the man at arms head and drove the dead body into the man next to him. As he reeled Ridley used his axe as an extension of his fist. The man at arms was unconscious before he hit the ground.
As the last man at arms stepped over the prone form of the younger Fitzwalter I swung my sword at the shield of the leader of the rebels. He was no warrior and he barely blocked it. He fell. I had my sword at his throat. “I would dearly love to kill you but honour demands that I ask if you will surrender.”
He dropped his sword, “I yield.”
The last man at arms tried to ram his sword into Alfred’s middle. My son spun around and the rebel’s sword struck fresh air. Alfred’s sword cut through to his spine.
Around us the fighting had ceased or, at least, we had an oasis of peace. This was not a battlefield which could be seen from one place. I had no idea if we were winning or losing. I knew that here, at the castle’s north gate, we had won. David and his archers had continued to rain arrows on the French and the rebels. Nicola de la Haie had her men do the same. My knights and men at arms had prevailed. Both rebels and French surrendered.
A voice from the roof called out, “Sir Thomas, the enemy are fleeing towards the south gate. We cannot see them.”
Cupping my hands, I shouted, “Make your way around the fighting platform and harass
them.”
“Aye lord.”
Sir Fótr had a slight wound. “Sir Fótr stay here with your squire and your men at arms. Guard these prisoners!”
I raised my sword, “Come, knights of Cleveland, our work here is not yet done!”
We hurried from the smaller streets to the large open area which marked the main thoroughfare of Lincoln. I saw the Comte de Perche and his French knights. They had formed a shield wall between the castle walls and the town walls. Even as we arrived I heard the Earl Marshal shout, “Comte, you have lost. The siege is lifted and all that remains if you continue to fight is death. There is no dishonour in surrender.”
“There is for me, Earl Marshal for I will have let down my Prince. Do your worst.”
The Earl Marshal was too old for such combat. He wearily backed his horse away and said, “Finish it, Earl.”
He meant the Earl of Chester who was at his side but my men and I began to hack and slash at the French who stood with their doomed leader. Comte de Perche was a good warrior. Ranulf de Blondeville had made the mistake of attacking while mounted. The Comte swung his sword as the man at arms at his side lunged with a spear. The sword hacked into the side of the head of the Earl’s warhorse and the spear eviscerated it. As the animal fell it threw the Earl from the saddle. He lay in an inert heap. The man at arms ran to get at him. I swung my sword into the side of the knight I was fighting and, as he fell, used his body to spring at the man at arms. I landed clumsily but knocked him to the ground. As I slowly rose the Comte swung his sword at me. Alfred raced between us. It was a powerful blow but it hit Alfred’s shield and he was knocked to the ground. As Ridley ended the life of the man at arms I lunged at the Comte. This was personal now. He had almost killed Alfred and there would be no quarter.
I would not underestimate this man. Prince Louis had left him to command the siege for a reason. He knew his business. He had an open face helmet and I saw him sneer. “You fled France for you feared my master. You think that you have the skill, mercenary, to defeat a knight of France.”
