by Peter Grant
“Who are you?” The voice came from a fat man on the right gatehouse tower, without preamble or pleasantries.
“I am Owain of the Axe, King’s Champion. And you are?”
“I’m Kayter, Seneschal to the Earl of Elspeth for his territory of Brackley. Surely you mean you’re the former King’s Champion? You retired years ago.”
“Yes, I did; but do you recall the Royal Proclamation that accompanied my retirement?”
“No, I can’t say I do.”
Owain half-turned in his saddle. “Sir Judge, would you please refresh the Seneschal’s memory?”
“Gladly, Sir Champion.” He looked up at the tower. “Upon the occasion of the Champion’s voluntary retirement, the late King acknowledged his faithful service by declaring him Champion Emeritus. He did not appoint a replacement. Owain of the Axe gave up his duties but retained his title, and was granted the privilege of taking up his office again if either he, or the King, ever deemed it necessary to safeguard the security of this Kingdom. He has just done so, and therefore exercises once more all the rights and authority of the Champion of the Realm.”
There was a whispered consultation between the fat man and a tall soldier beside him. The latter turned, stepped to the edge of the tower, and saluted Owain crisply, right fist across chest. “I am Major Achel, Sir Champion, commander of this garrison in the service of the Earl of Elspeth. I salute you, and acknowledge your military authority as titular Colonel-in-Chief of the Royal Bodyguard. I further acknowledge your authority in matters concerning the security of the realm.” He emphasized the last eight words, speaking them slowly and distinctly.
Owain smiled inwardly. This man was no fool. “I’m glad to hear that, Major,” he replied, returning the man’s salute. “However, I’m less than happy to find you and your men-at-arms inside these walls, where you have signally failed in your duty to protect the people of this – what did you call it, Sir Seneschal? This ‘territory of Brackley’ – against enemy invasion.”
The officer stiffened. “Enemy invasion? I don’t know what you mean, Sir Champion. We’ve had no warning of any invasion.”
“My lord Abbott?” Owain invited.
The Abbott urged his horse forward. “Three days ago, twenty-four gruefells, each with two riders, attacked a group of citizens of the Barony of Brackley. Thanks to the valiant resistance of the defenders, fourteen gruefells and thirty-five of their riders were slain, but at the cost of sixteen of our own. We conducted their funerals last night in Atheldorn.”
A rumble of comment went up all along the castle walls. Owain could see men-at-arms turning to one another in bewilderment, some gesturing, most asking questions. Sergeants ran up and down pushing their men back into position, ordering them to be silent.
The Major waited for silence, then said, “I am most sorry to hear this news, my lord Abbott. We have received no news of this attack. That’s not to say I doubt your word, of course.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” the Abbott said mildly, almost ominously, “because my priest-mages have been investigating certain… irregularities about this assault. They have determined that at least three sorcerers were involved, possibly more. Two were slain by the defenders.”
Again, the defenders turned to one another in a confused uproar of questioning. This time the sergeants and corporals found it much more difficult to restore order. Owain waited until they’d done so before he spoke again.
“Seneschal Kayter, Major Achel, I’ve discussed the situation with the District Judge. He’s made certain findings of fact. They’re based upon what we’ve observed with our own eyes, plus what’s been reported to us by those involved in the battle three days ago, and by the priest-mages who investigated the use of sorcery by the invaders, as well as what we’ve been told by residents of this Barony. Sir Judge?”
“Thank you, Sir Champion.” The judge cleared his throat. “Fact the first. The forces of the Earl of Elspeth have failed to ensure the security of the people of the Barony of Brackley, as expressly required of the rulers of every Barony, Earldom and Duchy in this Kingdom by their patents of nobility, and by Orders in Council. By failing in this duty, they have endangered the security of this Kingdom and exposed its citizens to grievous harm. As such, it lies within the authority of the King’s Champion to resolve this matter.
“Fact the second. The Barony of Brackley was never awarded to the Earl of Elspeth as part of his patrimony by the King and Council, but rather usurped by the Earl from its lawful holder. Unless and until the King and Council formally deprive the Baron of Brackley of his patrimony, and award it to another, he retains full legal right to possession and governance of that patrimony. The Earl of Elspeth’s actions in preventing him from exercising that right, by illegally occupying his patrimony, are therefore in defiance of the rule of law, and thus affect Avranche’s internal security. As such, it lies within the authority of the King’s Champion to resolve this matter.”
Owain had listened silently to the formal, pedantic language, showing no expression on his face. Now he looked up. “Seneschal Kayter, Major Achel, by my authority as King’s Champion I direct and require you, and all your subordinates, officials and servants, to immediately evacuate this Castle and this Barony. You will leave within the hour, and march directly to the border with the Earldom of Elspeth, not deviating from or delaying along the line of march for any reason. You will take with you only the clothes on your backs and your personal possessions. You will leave behind all your weapons and equipment, including horses and armor, so that it may be issued to others who will take up the responsibility of defending this Barony – a responsibility you have regrettably failed to discharge, as the recent attack has demonstrated.”
There was a long silence. The Seneschal simply stood and stared at Owain, mouth open, struck dumb. At last he stammered, “I – I reject your order! It is illegal! You have no right to issue instructions to me at all! I am answerable only to the Earl of Elspeth!”
“Sir Judge?” Owain asked.
“Of course, Sir Champion.” The Judge raised his voice. “Sir Seneschal, you are mistaken. The laws of the Kingdom clearly and explicitly grant to the King’s Champion, among others, the right and responsibility to promote and protect its safety. You have heard the findings of fact made by this Court. The Champion is therefore fully entitled to exercise his authority to resolve this problem. We are here to ensure that he is obeyed. If you persist in defying his lawful authority, then in the name of the King I shall declare you and all who obey you to be outlaws.”
The men-at-arms manning the walls broke into another hubbub of questions and comments. Their sergeants no longer even tried to quiet them, but rather joined in themselves, thronging around their officers.
Major Achel shouted, “Silence! Silence in the ranks!” He kept on shouting it until first some of his officers, then the sergeants, began repeating it and pushing the men-at-arms back to their stations. When a semblance of order had been restored, he looked down at Owain.
“Sir Champion, I have acknowledged your authority in matters concerning the security of the realm. However, I formally protest your orders. I cannot agree that our presence here is a threat to that security. As to its legality, surely that can only be decided by the King and Council?”
“Your agreement is not necessary, Major. My judgment as King’s Champion is all that matters. As for the legality of the situation, the Earl of Elspeth is entitled to appeal to the King and Council at any time, requesting that they overturn my decision. However, I note he has not applied to them to have the Barony reassigned to his patrimony at any time since he first illegally occupied it, five years ago. The original assignment of the Barony therefore remains in force and effect. I suggest that under those circumstances, any appeal by the Earl may be less than successful.”
“I reject your judgment, and your orders!” the Seneschal protested wildly. “As for you, my lord Abbott, I understood the Order never took sides in disputes between nob
les. How, then, can you support the Baron of Brackley against the Earl of Elspeth?”
“We are not here in support of either the Baron or the Earl.” The Abbott’s tone was detached, almost academic. “The King’s Champion is legally required to uphold and defend the security and stability of the Kingdom. He has requested our assistance to fulfil those obligations. Out of respect for his office, we have agreed to do so.”
“And what if I order my archers to riddle the King’s Champion with arrows and bolts? Who will you assist then?”
“I shall bear witness to the King and his Council that you, acting as the representative of the Earl of Elspeth, violated the orders of the King’s Judge in this District, and murdered the King’s Champion. I shall therefore support the King’s Judge in his declaration that you and the Earl are outlaws, along with anyone and everyone who assists either of you to defy the law – assuming, of course, that you do not intend to riddle both of us with arrows, too?”
The Seneschal gulped like a frog, but couldn’t find any words. Along the walls, the Elspeth men-at-arms rumbled their discontent. Almost all the archers laid their weapons on top of the battlements and stepped back from them, showing they wanted no part of such disobedience.
The Major had already made up his mind. He turned towards a man standing at the rear of the gatehouse roof, and called loudly, “Sergeant-Major, order the troops to assemble in the bailey. They are to stack their weapons and armor to one side, and parade unarmed. Have the drawbridge lowered, the portcullis raised, and the doors opened.”
“Aye, Major!” The Sergeant-Major began to volley orders at his men, who scurried to obey. Some left their bows and spears leaning against the battlements in their hurry to join the formation.
The Major turned to his superior. “Seneschal Kayter, this matter is now out of our hands. We cannot resist the authority of the King’s Champion without making ourselves outlaws. All we can do is report this to the Earl of Elspeth. He must decide what to do next.”
The Seneschal looked dumbly at him, mouth moving like a fish trying to breathe out of water. No sound emerged. Eventually the Major took his arm and led him, stumbling, to the rear of the barbican’s flat roof and down the stairs.
Owain rode forward, accompanied by the Abbott and the District Judge, and entered the barbican. They rode through its courtyard, over the drawbridge, through the castle doors, and emerged into the bailey, where the two hundred men-at-arms of the Earl of Elspeth were assembling. They were dressing their ranks under the profane urging of their sergeants. A pile of swords, daggers, maces, battle-axes, pikes, halberds, spears, bows and quivers of arrows was growing beside the keep. A heap of hauberks and chain-mail shirts glistened next to a stack of shields.
Owain dismounted, tossing the reins of his horse to a liveried servant who hurried to take them, and crossed to Major Achel. “Major, I’m grateful for your sound judgment and good sense in recognizing the inevitable and submitting to it peacefully.”
The Major half-bowed. His face was expressionless, but his eyes warmed. “Thank you, King’s Champion. I appreciate your courtesy. What of food and water for our journey?”
“You may take one wagon with you to hold your supplies. It’s no more than six or seven hours’ march on foot to the nearest border of the Earldom, is it not?”
“That’s right.”
“Then one wagon should be enough. If your men need more space to load bulky personal possessions, I’ll allow more wagons, provided they don’t leave the Barony. They must return here after being unloaded at the border with the Earldom. Your word on that will suffice.”
“Thank you. You have it. What of the Earl’s property? He furnished the Baron’s apartments very richly for his personal use during his visits. He also equipped the castle for our much larger numbers, and built more barracks and stables in the rear meadow. He’s just sent the next three months’ pay for our men-at-arms, plus supplies for that period.”
“All those items were provided for use in the Barony, so they’ll stay in the Barony. They’ll help to compensate for the damage done by the Earl’s illegal occupation here.”
“And the families of my men? Many of them have moved here.”
“They can have two weeks to settle their affairs locally and pack their belongings. The Baron will arrange a wagon train to take them back to the Earldom. I’ll make sure they have enough food and supplies while they prepare for the journey.”
“Thank you. I’m sure they’ll appreciate not having to abandon everything in haste. I’ll order them to comply with your orders, and not do anything stupid.”
Owain nodded, and lowered his voice. “Man to man, Major, I could wish that an officer of your obvious intelligence and ability served a better master.”
The man shrugged, and spoke equally quietly. “When the Kingdom’s armies were reduced in size ten years ago, I was a Lieutenant. There were far more discharged junior officers than there were positions available in the guard units of nobles. The only position I could find was as a Cornet in the Earl’s Guard, and I considered myself lucky to get it.”
“I see you’ve risen in rank since then. I think the Army may expand soon, following recent events – I’ll certainly be urging that upon the King and Council. Good officers will be needed. I’ll mention your name to them.”
“Thank you.” Achel dropped his voice to a mere murmur. “I’m glad there’s no bad blood between us, King’s Champion. You have my respect, and that of every fighting man who knows your record.”
“Thank you for saying that. If the Earl discharges you or any of your men over this, come and tell me. I’ll be here or in Atheldorn for up to ten days longer. I’ll see what can be done for you.”
“Thank you again. I’ll not forget your courtesy.”
They clasped hands wrist-to-wrist in a soldiers’ grasp before the Major turned back to his men.
—————
The Baron and his surviving men-at-arms and followers buckled down to work at once. It took three days to inventory the supplies, weapons, horses and vehicles left behind at the Castle by Elspeth’s men. While that was being done, the Baron, Garath and others rode through every part of the Barony, to check on any damage done by the occupying forces. The Earl had levied heavy taxes to cover the costs of his occupation, and imposed artificially low prices on farm products to feed his forces. As a result, most of the Baron’s people were in no position to pay even the lower taxes he usually imposed.
“It’s going to be a real problem over the coming year,” he admitted to Owain over a glass of liquor in his quarters. “I’m going to sell all this,” and he waved his hand at the ornate furniture and fixtures the Earl had installed for his personal use. “It’ll cost a lot to send it to Kingsholme, particularly since I’ll have to route it around the Earldom of Elspeth to prevent its former owner reclaiming it.” He and Owain grinned at the thought. “Still, it’ll be worth it. There’s a market for it there. It should bring in a profit of up to a hundred gold cruzados, all being well, which will allow me to give my people a tax holiday this year. They really need it, to rebuild their reserves. Trouble is, I’ve got to raise and train more men-at-arms. Before Elspeth’s invasion I never had more than fifty, but now I’m going to need a lot more than that. I’ve got him to worry about, and then there are those Graben raiders. That’ll be a very big expense.”
Owain nodded thoughtfully. “Do you have enough men in the Barony to recruit that many?”
“No, I don’t. Most of them are busy on their farms or in their other occupations. I’ll be able to find ten to twenty locally, I think, and perhaps as many in Atheldorn, but all of them will be inexperienced. They’ll need lots of training and attention. If I want experienced men-at-arms I’ll have to look further afield. There are mercenary companies, of course, but many can’t be trusted – their allegiance changes according to the highest bidder. There are also men-at-arms in search of work, but most are of poor quality. I’ll have to sift through the dr
oss until I find the nuggets. I’ll promote many of those who stayed loyal to me, and use them as corporals and sergeants.”
“You might get some troops from Elspeth. I don’t think he’s going to be very pleased with Major Achen and his men for abandoning the Barony. I thought the Major’s attitude was professional. I told him to come and see me if the Earl dismissed him and any of his men.”
The Baron frowned. “I’ll want to learn how each conducted himself during the occupation. If any of them abused or neglected my people, I’ll not have them within my borders at all.”
“That’s understandable. You can select the best of them, based on what your people tell you. At least the equipment for your new men-at-arms is taken care of, and a few months’ pay too, thanks to all Elspeth’s troops left behind.”
“Yes, thank the Gods! Thank you for ordering them to leave it all here. It costs a lot to equip a man-at-arms with a mail hauberk and helmet, a sword, dagger, shield, and pike or halberd, plus his uniform and all the other bits and pieces he needs. Then there’s spears, bows, arbalests and the like, plus horses and their tack. I certainly couldn’t afford to buy all that right now.”
“You could sell some of the excess to raise more money. Also, I’ll give you a hundred gold cruzados out of what I took off those Graben raiders at the inn. It’ll be poetic justice for our enemies to contribute towards your defenses against them. That’ll help you get through this year and pay your new men-at-arms. If you raise more through the sale of this furniture and whatever else Elspeth left behind that you don’t need, you’ll have enough to buy supplies for the winter. By next year your people should be able to pay taxes again.”
The Baron’s eyes gleamed. “You’re a friend indeed. Things will still be tight, but that should be enough to see us through until next year. Thank you very much.”
