English Knight

by Griff Hosker

  Once we heard the noise we knew the direction from which they were coming and we realigned ourselves. Wulfstan was in the middle with me to his left and Harold to his right. The bowmen were behind us. I suddenly caught a glimpse of white. It was the face of a Scot. Then there were half a dozen faces and they were just thirty paces from us. I heard Wulfstan hiss, “Archers, loose!”

  The four arrows sailed up and I saw two men fall, pierced by the deadly missiles. The leader of the raiders realised they had been seen. I saw a knight, with a kite shield, raise his sword as he looked at the walls for the archers who had struck so accurately. I only understood one or two of his words but his intention was clear. The warband rushed towards the silent walls. I knew that they had not seen us for there was no flesh to see amongst any of us. More arrows fell amongst them and they raised their shields whilst advancing towards the wooden ramparts. We had yet to lay traps in the ditch but it was still a better obstacle than they had met when they had raided before.

  Wulfstan spoke quietly, “Right my lord, we go in quickly, kill as many as we can and step back.”

  My mouth felt dry. There were at least four knights advancing up the slope. My skills would be sorely tested. I glanced over at Harold. He seemed calm. I wondered if he knew the danger we were in.

  “Now!”

  Wulfstan stepped forward and smote a mighty blow at the leader of the Scots. He must have seen the blade at the last moment for he attempted to raise his shield but Wulfstan was too quick for him and the blade cleaved his helmet and his skull in two.

  The knight to his right looked in horror at his leader and I lunged forward, my sword darted in the dark towards his head. I was lucky for it found his eye. He screamed and held his hands to his damaged face. It was a natural although fatal decision. I pulled back and stabbed into the knight’s middle. His mail links broke as the razor sharp sword sliced into him and he fell to the ground. I ignored him and stepped forward. A wild Scottish warrior hacked at me with his axe. I spun away from the blow. His axe head slid down my shield and I continued my spin and brought my sword across his back. He had a leather jerkin on and it did not even slow the blade down; I stopped when I smashed into his spine. He crumpled to the ground. My spin had taken me away from Wulfstan and two Scots ran to attack him. I was uphill and I hurled myself at them. The slope, my armour and my shield conspired to throw them both to the ground. I regained my feet first. I struck one in the groin with my sword while I jammed the tip of my shield into the throat of the second. He sighed his way to the next world.

  “Back!”

  I had seen how close we had come to disaster and I obeyed instantly. I began to turn until Wulfstan roared at me, “Face the enemy!”

  I turned and was just in time to deflect the spear which was thrust at me. I hacked down with my sword and the spear shattered in two. The Scot looked at the broken haft and I could see, in the half light, that he was considering using that as a weapon. I raised my sword and took one step forward. He turned and slipped his way down the slope as he fled my wrath.

  Wulfstan was the last one through the sally gate. The first thing I did was to look for Harold. He was grinning at me but I could see that he been cut across the cheek. It was bleeding profusely. Wulfstan saw it too. “You did well, Harold, now get to Faren and she will stitch it for you.”

  “But the Scots…”

  “Will need time to regroup and reconsider. They will not be back for some time.” Harold nodded and, holding his hand to his cheek, he ran to the hall. “You archers did well. Get to the ramparts and shout if you see danger. I doubt that they will venture into your killing zone. They have seen that you have knight killers for arrows.”

  “Aye, Wulfstan!”

  “Come, we will see how your father fares.”

  Chapter 11

  I could hear no sounds of battle as we hurried across the bailey. I saw my father and his men on the southern wall. Our banner still fluttered. He looked at us with relief when we climbed the ladder. “You are safe.” He frowned, “Harold?”

  “He needs a few stitches in his cheek. It is a wound to make maidens fall in love with him.”

  I looked over the walls and I could dimly make out some mounted shadows a couple of hundred paces from the walls. “Why have they not attacked?”

  “I believe they are waiting for the attack on the northern wall to succeed.”

  “Then it has failed. We killed their leader and two other knights. Branton’s archers struck five men at arms. They have withdrawn to lick their wounds.”

  I looked along the ramparts. The men, like Alf, and the farmers stood with their weapons ready to repulse an attack. If the Scots only knew how few men we had I am sure they would have attacked. We had barely ten effective warriors. Garth was still wounded and Branton’s men were better at ambush than fighting from a rampart. Perhaps my father sensed my nervousness for he patted my arm and smiled. “It is no easy thing to assault walls; even wooden walls such as these. When you have your own stone castle you can hold an army off with twenty doughty men at arms. It is worth remembering.”

  There was no further fighting that night. Ralph ensured that everyone was fed and Osric even allowed half of the men to sleep. As dawn broke, three riders edged forward from the warriors who were now becoming clearer. They held their hands out in the sign for a truce. The leader had a full face helmet. Their shields all bore the sign of the wild boar. They halted just fifty paces from the gate and they removed their helmets.

  I saw that the leader had an enormous red beard; it was so big that, even when he lowered his ventail all that you could see were his eyes. “I see King Henry has put a cannier knight here in Norton.”

  My father said nothing. He had no need to. I noticed that the Scot spoke in Norman. That was interesting. The other two knights looked younger and were both clean shaven. All three knights had mail which was covered by a red surcoat. I had seen these worn by those travelling to the Holy Land. They stopped armour from becoming too hot. I wondered why they needed them in Scotland. The only conclusion I could come to was that they had fought in a Crusade which would make them difficult opponents to defeat.

  “You have not told me your name yet and so I will give you mine, “I am Tancred de Mamers.” I remembered the name; it was a town in northern Maine. What was a Norman knight doing here?

  “And I am Baron Ridley of Norton.”

  He nodded. “I have heard of you. You and your men were Housecarls to the Emperor.” My father nodded. From his tone I guessed this Tancred de Mamers was laughing as he said, “The Housecarls were trounced at Hastings.” My father’s men were so well trained that none reacted to the insult. I did not know how they could ignore it. “We will do you a favour, Baron Ridley. We will take half of your animals and your grain. In return we will let you live.”

  My father nodded, “And that sounds like a typical Scottish offer. I will give you a piece of advice. If you wish to prey on the unwary then return to the Holy Land from which you have fled. Here we do not give in to such threats and my men are all sound warriors. I will count to five and if you have not withdrawn then you will leave your bones to mark where Scottish arrogance died. One, two.”

  Ralph said quietly, “Ready, Branton.”

  “Three, four, five.” The knights did not move. Sir Tancred shook his head and began to turn to, presumably, order his men forward.”

  “Loose!”

  I had seen Branton and his archers when they practised. They could send an arrow three hundred paces with pin point accuracy when they chose. They had arrows they called knight killers which could pierce any armour and they could release five arrows before the first struck the target. There were only five of them but one of the knight’s horses was struck, the second knight took two arrows to his right shoulder and Sir Tancred only avoided injury by the deft use of his shield. He turned and galloped back to his men. The knight whose horse had been killed tried to grab the stirrup of his wounded companion and they began t
o retreat. An arrow struck him in the back and had he not been holding the stirrup then he would have fallen too. The arrows began to strike the advancing Scots. Every arrow struck a shield or flesh and they retreated with Sir Tancred.

  We could now see their numbers. There were now just two knights other than Sir Tancred. We had wounded two. There seemed to be about twenty men at arms. Athelstan said, “I will check the north wall. If this is all they have…”

  As he descended my father said, “It may be a trick. We are safe within these walls for a while.”

  My father constantly surprised me. He had a mind as sharp as a razor and he had deduced far more about the Scots than I would have ever dreamed possible. I glanced down the walls and saw that villagers and farmers were also looking at my father with admiration on their faces. Even Alf the Smith appeared impressed.

  When Athelstan came back he said, “We counted just ten men at arms. They have been discouraged from advancing by Branton’s bowmen.”

  It was time I asserted myself. “Let me take four men and the archers. We will clear these ten away and recover the mail and the weapons from the dead. That way we can concentrate on the men to our fore.”

  I noticed that my father glanced at me before he said, “Very well.”

  “Athelstan, Harold, Egbert, come with me.” I hesitated. Wulfstan grinned at me, “I did not think that you would need an invite.”

  He laughed, “Aye well I like your enthusiasm but I shall lead when we leave the gate.“ I hurried down the ladders and they followed me.

  When we reached the four archers Wulfstan waved them down. “We are going hunting and the Scots are our targets. If you can kill them then do so.” He stared at them, “Try to avoid hitting us eh?”

  They laughed. We had all seen their accuracy and knew that they would have no problem in the daylight. They were the men of the woods and they had survived for many years because of their accuracy with their long bows. Surprisingly the Scots had brought no archers. All of the warriors wore a helmet and carried a shield along with either a sword or an axe. I could see one knight with them. His shield and surcoat bore a golden star. I watched as he rallied his men into a rough shield wall. Although there were just six of us descending we were all dressed as he was. Even though three had old fashioned round shields my father’s oathsworn looked like the veterans they were.

  “Harold, protect your master, do not worry about us old dogs! We can handle ourselves.”

  Harold hurried to my left to protect my shield side. His wound looked red and angry but it did not appear to be bothering him. He grinned as he tucked his shield across his wound. I would see if I could secure him a mail ventail. It would prevent such injuries.

  Wulfstan led us down the path between the swampy areas. It was just wide enough for three men and we followed Wulfstan. The Scots had chosen this side to attack because it was swampy. They would now find themselves at a disadvantage because of it. Behind me the four archers began to aim at their targets. The Scots raiders had no choice but to raise their shields. All the time Wulfstan was leading us inexorably towards them.

  I saw, fifty paces or so behind them, their horses. They were being tended by three squires on a small bank with a hedgerow running along it. There were three knight’s horses but the rest were ponies. I had hoped for a better reward. As my foot slipped into the muddy water I chastised myself. First kill your enemy and then take his horse! The Scots began to retreat to drier ground where they could make their superior numbers count. It is never easy walking backwards in armour; especially when there are muddy hollows in which you could easily slip.

  I wondered if they were making for their horses. Wulfstan must have had the same thought for he shouted, in Saxon, “Archers, kill the squires!”

  If the squires were eliminated then the horses might run. We needed these ten out of the battle to give us a chance with Tancred and the others. One of the squires fell immediately, pierced by two arrows. A second was struck by an arrow while one of the horses was hit in the rump by a fourth arrow when the last squire ran. The wounded squire bravely tried to hold on to the destriers. The arrows and the whinnying of the horses made the Scots look nervously over their shoulders and we were able to close with them.

  Wulfstan made for the knight and he brought his sword over his head in an attempt to end the skirmish quickly. This was a young knight and he brought his shield up to block the blow. He did so but I saw the shield shiver with the force of the strike. Egbert and Athelstan tried the same stroke but the men at arms they were fighting were neither as quick nor as skilled as the knight. They both died quickly. Leaving Wulfstan to fight the knight they charged the Scots before them.

  “Norton!” I screamed my war cry for the first time and I lunged at a man at arms who tried to block the blow with his sword. He deflected the blade but I punched him in the face with my shield. As his head went back I brought my sword around and it hacked into his shoulder. He screamed as he dropped his shield. As he fell Harold ended his life.

  I heard a cheer from my right and saw Wulfstan pulling his sword from the Scot’s knights dead body. With two more men killed by Egbert and Athelstan the remaining six ran. Egbert and Athelstan reached the three destriers before the men at arms who ran after the fleeing ponies. When we reached them Egbert was cradling the dying squire who had hung on to the horses. He spoke in Norman, “I did my duty. My father will be proud.”

  I could see that the arrow had gone through his stomach and out of his back. Egbert spoke kindly, “You did well. You father would be proud. You would have made a fine knight.”

  “Thank you…” His eyes glazed over and he died.

  “He was a brave laddie.”

  Wulfstan looked at me. “I think we have the three war horses we sought. We had better get the arms, armour and horses inside and find out what your father wishes.”

  The Scots were still gathered out of arrow range where the valley dipped to the two farms. Osric grinned when he saw us all return. “Well this should be interesting. If I was this Tancred de Mamers I think I would cut my losses and return north. He has lost a handful of knights and he has lost men at arms. We now outnumber him.”

  “But he still has more experienced men than we do. It might go ill for us.” My father stretched. I suddenly realised he had been on his feet all night. It was too much for someone his age. I was about to suggest he retire when he spoke again, “I do not think these are Scots. So far they have only spoken Norman. Their arms and their livery suggest that that they are from the east and yet if they were successful why did they not stay there? They have returned for a reason. I am curious as to what that is. This is not over yet.” He turned to look in the bailey where Aiden tended the captured horses. “I see we have warhorses now. They may be needed soon.”

  “Wulfstan, take the men who had just fought and get some food from Faren. Ask Father Peter to minister to the women and children I fear they may become worried at the siege.”

  Osric laughed, “This is not a siege! I could sally forth and destroy these Norman cockerels.”

  “I know you could but they do not. Their last lord was slain and their animals all taken.” He spread a hand towards the animals they had brought in with them. “Do you notice what they do not have? Neither cattle nor cows. There are sheep, goats and a couple of pigs. How will they live through the winter? No, these people are worried and Peter can console them.”

  As Wulfstan led us away I found myself in awe of my father. He saw things with a clarity which was startling. He understood these people. Would I ever be able to do so once they became my charge?

  As we headed towards the hall Wulfstan said, “Take your armour off and wash.”

  “But we may need to fight again.”

  “And that is why you take off your armour. It is light, Alfraed but it will slow you down unless you take if off for a while. Do not worry, we can put armour on in the time it takes to saddle a horse.” He spread his arm around the bailey which was fil
led with people. “They can all help if necessary.” He shouted up to Alf, “Smith, can you put an edge on these blades for us?” Alf cocked his head to one side. “There is a silver piece for you.”

  He rubbed his hands in anticipation of the profit and came down.

  Wulfstan shook his head and said quietly. “It is not my coin. I took it from the dead Norman.”

  I suddenly felt foolish. I had only taken weapons. As I dropped my armour to the floor Wulfstan added, seeing my crestfallen look, “You will learn, Alfraed, to the victor go the spoils. You kill a man then search him.”

  Faren waved us over when we entered the hall. She shooed away the archers who were eating the broth she had made. “Here my lord, we have some of the game stew left. The meat is good for your liver and it will put strength in your sword.”

  I nodded my thanks and took the bowl she offered. I saw Aiden leaving, “Aiden find me the best destrier. He will be mine.”

  He grinned, “Yes my lord.”

  Wulfstan laughed as he tore a piece of meat from the bone he was holding. “Now you are learning but it is right for you will be the one who needs the best horse. Aiden choose the second best for Harold here.”

  Harold looked in surprise, “Me?”

  “I fight better on foot. I can fight on a horse but you two will fight on horseback.”

  Harold said, “Thank you”, and grinned. When his wound began to drip blood he winced.

  “You will have to smile less until it heals, my squire.”

  He nodded and began to sup the broth from the stew. “Why are the bigger horses so important, my lord? I did not like to ask.”

  “It means they can carry us in our armour and not tire during a battle. I will still ride Scout to war but when I ride to battle I shall ride my new horse.”

  I was excited. Only one of the war horses looked to be a quality beast and he would now be mine. He was jet black with a white blaze. I had a mind to call him Star but I knew that the best horses, like Scout, named themselves. I would wait.