by Griff Hosker
“I will send one of my household knights, Geoffrey of Coutes, with you. He is good warrior. I would advise you to wear your armour for your journey across Frankia.”
I looked at Wulfstan. “I had been told that we would only encounter bandits who would not wear armour.”
Wulfstan did not seem put out by my implied criticism. Count Hugo nodded, “Up until now that was true but now you travel across a land with castles and petty lords. They may decide to challenge your crossing. You will be under my protection until Montlucon. After that….” He shrugged.
We bought two more horses from Count Hugo. Two of the ones we had bought in Genoa would struggle to carry an armoured knight. I caused something of a stir when I emerged in my armour. It was the overlapping lamellar armour favoured in Constantinople. It was lighter than mail and more effective. The young knights I had seen the night before all came to examine it and ask me questions. They were envious of me. My shield was a smaller version of their kite shield. It did not cover as much of my legs but they were protected by more lamellar armour and mail. Finally my greaves gave my lower legs protection. I carried my helmet which had a face mask and aventail also of lamellar construction. It felt good to be in armour once more. I could face the dangers more confidently.
As we headed north west I noticed that all of the knights had unique designs upon their shields. Mine was plain. I asked Wulfstan about the designs. “They identify the knight and his lord in battle. See how that all look different but each one has a boar’s head on it somewhere. They show that they are Count Hugo’s men.”
That made sense. In Constantinople we had not needed such things. All of the warriors bore the shield of the Emperor. Here men fought in smaller groups. I thought I would ask my father to have the same designs put on our shields. We were a conroi of sorts.
The land through which we travelled was good farmland. It was clearly very fertile. I saw terraces on the hills with vineyards there. I could see that this land was worth fighting for. The mountains through which we had passed were only fit for barbarians and bandits. Now we had reached what passed for civilisation. The only wooden buildings belonged to the peasants; the Count had called them villeins. The hills were dotted with fortified castles made of stone. Each one had a raised mound and a ditch surrounding it. This was all so different from my home.
Montluçon had the largest castle we had seen since we had left Lyon and Count Hugo. Geoffrey of Coutes spoke with the castellan and explained who we were. Sir Geoffrey left, eager to return to Lyon before dark.
The castellan was a small powerful man. “I am Eugene. The master, Lord Archambaud, is out with the household knights. They are teaching one of our neighbours a lesson. Pray, stay the night. He should be back in a day or so.”
“We are anxious to reach Normandy.”
Eugene shook his head, “I cannot give you permission to cross the land of Lord Archambaud. You will need to stay here until he returns.” He saw the looks exchanged between Ralph and Garth. “I have no doubt that he will grant you permission but Lord Archambaud is sensitive about such things. He likes matters to be conducted properly.”
It was a pleasant castle to visit. We stayed in the hall normally used by the household knights. It was empty for Eugene just had the ten men at arms to guard the castle. They wore leather armour but all had a helmet, a spear and a shield. When we ate, that night, I asked Eugene if this was a typical castle.
He smiled, “You have not seen Frankish castles before?”
I shook my head. “Constantinople and its mighty walls are my only experience of such buildings. These seem so small by comparison.”
My father snapped, “Alfraed, do not be rude to our host.”
Eugene laughed and waved away the apology, “I am not offended. I have heard of the mighty walls of that great city. No, my young friend, we do not compete with a large castle but we have walls we can defend with a small number of knights and we can control large swathes of land from here with our knights.”
“How many knights does his lordship lead?”
“He has three conroi. Each one has ten knights. The ten knights have their own men at arms and they are mounted too.”
I took in the information. “Father, is it the same in England? You and the others fought on foot.”
Before he could answer Eugene said, “We often fight on foot too. The horses are the quickest way to get to a battle but a man fighting in armour will soon tire a horse.” He laughed, “Your son is most curious, Lord Ridley.”
“I apologise for him.”
“No it is interesting for me to meet someone who looks like us and speaks our language and yet is a foreigner.”
I liked Eugene. He told wonderful stories of fighting with his master Lord Archambaud and carving out this little domain of theirs. It seemed that Louis the Fat was increasing his control over the lands and eventually there would be conflict with Lord Archambaud. Eugene did not appear to be concerned about the prospect of war with a king. “There have been strong kings of France and weak ones. We shall see. I have lived a long time, Alfraed son of Ridley, and I have learned to take life as it comes. I would advise you to do the same.”
Lord Archambaud returned at noon of our third day in his land. He was a most imposing knight. He shunned the new style of helmet and still wore the same kind as my father did. I noticed that the knights of his conroi all had the mail which still had a detachable face piece; it was called a ventail. I knew then that Lord Archambaud liked things done the old ways. He and my father got on famously for they had both fought the Normans. I think we could have stayed there for some time but my father was aware of the passage of time.
Lord Archambaud seemed to understand. “I will have my conroi escort you to the edge of my land.” He laughed, “I doubt you will have any trouble for I have imposed my will on my neighbours. They each lost household knights.” I had noticed the wagons and horses which he had brought back into his castle. Frankia did not seem a dull place to live.
He left us at a small village. There was no accommodation but there was a wooden wall around it and the presence of the knights of Montluçon ensured that we were welcomed. As we ate our frugal meal my father told us what he had learned from the Lord of Montluçon.
“It seems there is a battle to control the parts of Anjou, Normandy, Poitou and Touraine.” The names meant nothing to me. My father, who was always patient with me, said, “They are the duchies through which we need to pass. Henry is close by his borders with Maine. He is supposed to be hunting but from what I have discovered he is looking for an opportunity to enlarge his kingdom.”
“Are the lands through which we are to travel not safe then?”
Ralph laughed, “Of course not! We are just as likely to be taken for brigands and bandits as travellers. The next days will be dangerous, Master Alfraed. You will be using your sword before too long. Of that I am certain.”
As I went to sleep that night I could not help but wonder about the draw of England. My father was risking death to reach his home as were his retainers. I suppose in my arrogance I thought that I would be immune from swords and arrows for I was young. I was wrong.
For five days we saw few people as we travelled along the old Roman Road. There were occasional merchants and, once they discovered that we were peaceful, were happy for us to travel with them. They moved too slowly for us, however, and we left them after we had enjoyed some of their food. The merchants ate well. We were not far from Tours when we hit trouble.
We had found a ferry to ford the river. We should have known that trouble was waiting for us. The ferryman seemed very nervous about dropping us off. He kept glancing to the west. Wulfstan nodded to my father. “I will take young Master Alfraed and we will scout ahead. Come.”
I followed Wulfstan and noticed that he donned his helmet. It seemed prudent to copy him. The road wound along the river but Wulfstan led us up a gentle slope towards the north west. I could see that we followed an ancient track way.
“Why are we leaving the road?”
“The ferryman seemed nervous about the west and besides our route is to the north and west.” He pointed to the track we were following. “This is earlier than the Roman Road. Often they are the best way of travel.” Above us the slope became steeper and was rounded. I saw tree tops above the slope. I glanced behind and saw that my father and the rest were just half a mile away. They had the pack animals to lead and could not travel as swiftly. As we reached the summit of the slope I saw, about two miles away, a small castle. We had seen many such castles on our way north. Wulfstan stopped and pushed his helmet back. He peered at the castle which stood next to the Roman Road we would have travelled.
“See, Wulfstan. Had we stayed on the road we might have been able to stay at the castle.”
“We have passed many such castles. Since we stayed at Montluçon how many have opened their gates to us?”
I had not thought about that but now I realised that none had opened their gates. “None but that does not mean that this one will not.”
He laughed. “This is not a peaceful land. You saw the Lord of Montluçon; he was busily enlarging his lands and taxing all who passed by. We will wait here for your father and let him make the decision.”
I heard the horses as they jingled and jangled their way up the slope. Suddenly I spied the gates of the castle open and horsemen and foot soldiers emerged. Wulfstan jammed his helmet down. “Lord Ridley we should make for the trees.”
“Very well.”
I was going to argue but the rest all rode to the trees. When Wulfstan spoke they tended to listen. Once we reached the top of the rise they all jumped down and took their shields and weapons from their horses before hobbling them in the tree line. I was surprised at the speed with which the old men did so. Osric chuckled, “Come along, young sir. Prepare yourself.”
I did as they did but I knew not why. “This is nonsense. They might well be coming in peace.”
“In which case, my son, we have lost nothing by preparing for war.”
I saw that they all had their shields slung easily across their backs. Only Ralph and Garth had their weapons out for they wielded axes and needed two hands. As I turned I saw that the horsemen were much closer. There were four of them and they had a Gonfanon with a golden star on a red background. They also had the same design on their shields. The eight men at arms who followed them all displayed the same symbol. The four horsemen reined in as their men at arms hurried to catch them.
Their leader raised his helmet and lowered his ventail so that he could speak with us. “Who are you that dare to cross my lands?” I saw that he was little older than I was.
My father took off his helmet. “I am Ridley of the Varangian Guard and we are travelling to England.”
“Then you are spies of Henry brother of Curthose, the sons of the Bastard! Lay down your weapons. You are my prisoners!”
My companions did not seem at all discomfited by the young man’s words. “We cannot do that for we are not spies. What is your name?”
“I am Guillaume Fitzbois and I hold this demesne for my father Guy du Bois. Surrender or die.”
In answer my father swung around his shield and drew his sword. “You may try to kill us but as right and God are on our side I do not think that will happen.”
The angry young man wheeled his horse and rode away. Was it over? Had my father’s words discouraged them? Osric said, “They are going to get enough space to charge us, Master Alfraed: be ready.”
I noticed that Ralph and Garth stood on either side of my father whilst the other four flanked me. Wulfstan murmured quietly, “Follow through with the blow if you have to strike. These men will try to kill us. Be in no doubt about that. A wounded man is twice as dangerous!” He nodded to me. “Listen for Osric’s commands. When he speaks obey him instantly and we shall all live.”
The four riders halted and then lowered their spears. Behind them the four archers pulled back on their bows. As soon as the arrows were released the four horsemen, followed by the four men at arms with spears, charged towards us. I felt the ground shake as they thundered up the hill. The arrows fell ineffectually short. I saw how clever Wulfstan had been in choosing this defensive position. The slope was rounded like the bottom of a pot. The horses slowed as it became steeper. They would reach us at barely a walk. The young Guillaume Fitzbois was outstripping his peers and I heard Osric chuckle. “What a fool he is!” We held our shields up and the second flight of arrows thudded into them.
The riders headed directly for my father. I feared for him. The spear was lowered and pulled back ready to punch into my father’s mail. I could not believe that he stood there so calmly. As the spear head was pulled back a number of things happened all at once. First Osric shouted, “Charge!” It seemed bizarre for we were outnumbered and on foot. They were on horses. I obeyed and we ran towards the advancing soldiers. The next thing was that Ralph and my father locked their shields and met the spear and thirdly Garth swung his war axe. It smashed into the side of the head of Fitzbois’ horse. There was a loud crack as the horse’s head was crushed by the head of the axe and Guillame Fitzbois flew over the head of his horse.
Ralph swung his axe and it smashed into the shield of the second rider who fell at the feet of Egbert. Egbert’s sword was pricked into his ventail in an instant, “Surrender or die!”
The knight had no option. He put up his hands and said, “I surrender.”
Osric’s war axe smashed through the spear which was jabbed at him and Athelstan stabbed the surprised spearman in the stomach. A second spear came at Wulfstan who flicked it contemptuously to one side and then brought his sword down across the neck of the spearman.
Behind me I heard Guillame Fitzbois yell, “We surrender! Quarter! We yield! You have won.”
I turned to see my father with his sword at the throat of the felled knight. We had killed two men, a horse and defeated four knights and none of us had a scratch. How had seven old men and an untried boy managed to achieve that feat?
Chapter 4
We left after the young knight had sworn to do penance in Tours Cathedral for his unwarranted attack. I saw hatred in his eyes and he would remember us, however he had lost face in the eyes of his men and we were safe; for the time being. Of course we quickly hurried out of his land for there was little point in tempting providence. My father left Egbert to watch our backs. The young knight had been humiliated and who knew what he might do.
I rode at the head of the small column with Wulfstan. “How did Garth stand there with the horse charging? And how did he manage to strike the beast?”
“Most horses will try to avoid you. Of course if it is a solid line of knights then you rely on the locked shields before you and behind you. In a skirmish the horse will swerve because it can. The difference is if a knight charges on a war horse, a destrier. They are trained to trample and bite. The young knight rode his second best horse, his palfrey. Because Garth was on the extreme right and we were to the left the horse would have veered towards the gap. It meant its head would be travelling towards the swinging axe. Timing is a matter of practice. Garth has a good eye for such things and he practises swinging. A horseman who falls from his horse is helpless.” I took that information in. Perhaps these old men had something to tell me which might actually be of use. Wulfstan looked at me. “You did well today but I still sensed that you hesitated. You must be confident that your blow will end the combat. It may not but if you deliver with the full force of your arm then you have an excellent chance of ending the combat. Remember we have the finest armour of any warrior that we will meet.”
“But you and the others wear the old fashioned helmet.”
He laughed. “We like the open face. It means we see better. Of course, you are right, an open helmet invites a spear thrust or a blow from a mace. We have fought like this since our fathers fought. It is too late for us to change.”
It was a pleasant land we travelled t
hrough and we rode in silence. I had learned to keep my eyes open and to watch my horse. Scout had already proved his skill at sniffing out danger and I was growing fond of him.
“Why did you and the others not help Garth and Ralph to defend my father? You are his oathsworn.”
Wulfstan closely examined my face as he answered, “We are your oathsworn too. When your father no longer commands then we follow you. Until then we guard you,” he smiled, “Your father is still a mighty warrior while you have much to learn.” I was not certain I liked that but I had to believe Wulfstan for, so far, his advice had been sound. It seemed I needed the others to watch over me.
We spent the next three days avoiding all settlements and, especially, castles. We camped in the woods and ate frugal meals. I learned how to cook. It was summer and Athelstan was a good hunter. I found the food we ate blander than my palate was used to and lacked the variety I appreciated but it took the edge from my hunger. We met a few travellers and when we discovered that we were close to Le Mans my father ordered a detour to avoid that huge castle. Wulfstan sent me to the rear, to my father, when we began the detour. I had long ago realised that I was still little more than a child in their eyes and I obeyed.
It was obvious my father wished to speak with me. “How do you feel about this journey now? Do you still hate your father for bringing you so far from the comforts of your fabulous home?”
“I do not hate you.” I smiled, “Although I will admit that I was not happy about travelling to the end of the world.”
“Your destiny is there.” He looked wistfully to the west. “I had not even seen ten summers when I followed Aelfraed and his uncle. I left my home to follow the sword. It was not a happy home and I never looked back. I hoped that you would not regret leaving your home.” He put his hand on my arm. He had a gentle touch for a hardened warrior. “I learned to be a warrior. I lived amongst warriors such as these.” He gave a deep, heartfelt sigh. “I yearn for those carefree days before the Normans came.” He tightened his hand over my arm. “I learned about myself in those years. When we fought the Welsh and faced charging horses I learned to be a man and a warrior. I was proud of you the other day when you did not flee. That was the first time you had faced a charging horseman and I know the temptation is to run. Already you are changing.”
