The Dunston Blade

by John Daines

  “It wasn’t a battle, it was a slaughter,” he said to Gavin. “I hope our battles are not going to be like that.” Gavin shook his head and lazily poked the fire. “Maybe we will return home tomorrow, I’ve had enough of mud and blood to last a lifetime.”

  Sir Cedric and his retinue returned to Wymondham where the men set up camp outside the Castle, Sir Cedric arranged a feast for them and the celebrations went on into the night. John and Gavin took care of the horses and stowed all the armaments away. Carac was waiting for them in the Castle and wanted a full report on all that happened.

  “Let us get cleaned up first and go down to dinner, we haven’t eaten a decent meal since we left,” said Gavin. In the great hall they found the other Knights and Squires that had accompanied Sir Cedric, they sat down and the food began to appear chickens, joints of beef, a whole pig, geese and the centre piece, a swan. There was plenty of ale and mead and gradually everyone relaxed. Carac was still pressing for details of the battle but John really wanted to forget it for a while, the frenzy at the finish had upset him. The next day he finished his work in the Castle and Carac suggested they go into Wymondham as Gavin was on duty. The two arrived in the town to find it was market day, they wandered through the colourful stalls and chatted to the vendors. Many wanted to know what had happened at Evesham but John gave only a sketchy account.

  “I am going to the Priory,” said John and mounting Anvil rode off .

  Sitting alone in the church he reflected on how he felt about fighting and living as a Squire. Sir Cedric was a kind man and John liked him, he was generous and supportive to his people, in the town and countryside. John felt he could learn much under his guidance. The life was certainly different to working in a forge. He returned to meet Carac and they journeyed back to the Castle together.

  Over the next years life in the Castle settled down and apart from having to chase robbers and patrol the countryside around the Castle there was nothing exciting happening. John studied the books in the Library and listened to Gavin, he was determined to show Sir Cedric his gratitude for giving him the chance to better himself.

  One evening Sir Cedric called John into his room. “I am going to arrange a Tournament in the valley. I will send invitations to my friends, I know Prince Edward has gone on a crusade, but I hope some of my friends are still here, send messages to those I tell you.”

  “Are we not joining Prince Edward?” asked John

  “No, one crusade was enough. Once we know how many Knights can accept my invitation we will get ready for the event, it will keep us sharp and ready, meanwhile you, Gavin and Carac had better train harder as I expect to win.”

  John returned to the Bailey where his friends were already practicing and gave them the news.

  For the next month the three Squires studied hard and honed their fighting skills, they did not want to let Sir Cedric down in the Tournament. John was rapidly becoming unbeatable with the sword and long bow while Gavin practiced new moves with his lance and spear, Carac could outride both of them and fire his short bow in rapid succession whilst guiding his mount with his knees. Watching from a window Sir Cedric felt a pride in their expertise, and thought about his daughter. He missed her company but he convinced himself he had been right in sending her away, perhaps he would bring her back for the Tournament.

  The Castle was buzzing with excitement as the preparations for the Tournament got under way. Heralds were despatched to notify the Knights who had accepted Sir Cedric’s invitation. A Herald was also sent into Wymondham to tell the townspeople of the event. Traders will be setting up stalls and the population will no doubt turn out in force to see the fun. With people travelling in from the surrounding countryside the town’s Inns will be filled and local houses will try to benefit by hiring out bedrooms.

  John was sitting on the mounting block, resting after cleaning Anvil, when Carac ran up to him and said. “Guess where I am going John.” John looked at him with a bemused smile, “I’m going to Lincoln to escort Lady Tania back for the Tournament. We shall be travelling with Lord Robert’s party but I am to guard Lady Tania.”

  John leapt off the block and grabbed Carac. “You guard her well or you will have to answer to me,” they both laughed and walked back inside the Castle.

  II

  Roger woke gradually, he was contented as he lay next to the warm body of Laila. He looked at her loose curls laying on the pillow, he was happy and at peace with the world. Suddenly there was a loud pounding on the door of the little cottage.

  “All right, don’t break the door down, I’m coming.” Roger pulled on his trousers and walked from the bedroom to the front door, opening it he found one of the guards standing there.

  “Sorry to wake you but we have a seriously injured man at the gate who says you can vouch for him. I was going to turn him away as it looks like battle wounds and he’s not got long to go, but he insists he knows you.”

  “All right I will come with you.”

  They hurried off to the gate where they found two men with an old cart standing by the entrance. On the bed of the cart lay a man covered by a sack. Roger bent over the cart and looked at the face of the man who lay there, he immediately recognised him.

  “Roland!” Roger exclaimed. The man made no movement, Roger could see he was still alive though badly wounded. “Take him to the Priory at once, I will come and raise the Prior.”

  The two men, pulling the cart, followed Roger, who rushed into the building shouting out for the Prior. Prior Clement was skilled in the art of healing and was soon at the side of the injured man. “He is very badly wounded and I am afraid my skills may not save him,” he said, as he inspected Roland’s cuts and a large hole below his ribs caused by a lance or spear. Roland was still unconscious at this stage and Roger could see that his breathing was shallow and irregular.

  “I will be grateful for whatever you can do,” said Roger. The Prior called one of the monks to him.

  “This is Brother Joseph who is more experienced than I, he will do his best, and with God’s help, try to save his life.”

  Roger stayed in the room while Brother Joseph went to work, the Benedictines were well known for their value as doctors. The monk worked on Roland for a considerable time and at last stood back, washed his hands and turned to Roger saying, “I have done all I can, but the stomach wound has damaged internal organs which I can do nothing for.”

  “I thank you for what you have done,” said Roger

  “He is still unconscious, and may not come round at all, time will tell. I am going to chapel now and we will pray for him.”

  Roger thanked the monk again and stood by the table where Roland had been placed, two monks appeared and without a word moved Roland to a small cell, placed him on the bed and left. Roger sat by the bed and looked at Roland, he remembered the good, and some bad, times they had had together. He was a good companion, thought Roger but too much fighting can only end like this. Later that evening Brother Joseph came to see how Roland was, he told Roger that the biggest danger was infection in the wounds, although he had removed several pieces of cloth from the hole in his stomach there could be some still there. The monk had only been gone for a few minutes when Roland opened his eyes. He was disoriented and asked where he was and who was Roger. Gradually his senses seemed to clear and he spoke to Roger.

  “Is that you Roger? Am I hurt badly old friend, I can’t feel much.”

  “ You have some bad wounds Rolly but you are in good hands, the Benedictines are looking after you. Were you at Evesham?”

  “ Yes,” murmured Roland. “I fell foul of some of Sir Cedric of Wymondham’s men and they overpowered me. I thought I was going to die there then. There was a young Squire who could have finished me off but for some reason stopped before the fatal blow.”

  Roland fell silent and his eyelids closed, Roger bent over his friend and he realised Roland was asleep. Roger visited Roland most evenings after his duties had finished. He had become friendly with some
of the brothers and one evening as they sat talking a brother visiting from Lincoln told them of the Herald coming to Lincoln to announce the Tournament in Wymondham. He said that Robert of Lincoln was gathering a party to take part and would be travelling down in two weeks time. Walking home Roger pondered as to whether he would join the group, he was sure he could be given the time away as the town was reasonably quiet and his men well trained. It would not take long to improve his marksmanship and he had always been capable with the sword. The more he thought about it the more he became convinced he should make the journey. He brought the subject up with Laila that evening, she said that if he went she would go too. After lengthy discussion Roger gave way and agreed. He found out that the entourage would be stopping at Grimsthorpe Castle, he could join them easily there. He went to find the Captain but was told he had left and his servant did not know when he would be back. Roger went off to find the Mayor who informed him that the man had decided to return to his home in London and the town was without a Captain and he had planned to see Roger the next day to offer him the position. Roger was delighted and accepted with the proviso that he would go to the Tournament. The Mayor agreed and Roger returned home to tell Laila the good news.

  II

  The preparations for the Tournament were progressing well, the site had been chosen and the areas for the visiting Knight’s tents and pavilions marked out. Sir Cedric, being the host, would be positioned on the Castle side as also would be the main stand where the dignitaries would sit. Opposite would be Robert of Lincoln’s tents and at the other ends would be Gilbert de Clare and Alfred of Ely. The action would take place in the centre which was a long grassed area, long enough for two Knights to Joust. Smaller rings would be behind the tents for wrestling and cock fighting. John had been checking the stands and Sir Cedric’s tents when Gavin rode up and asked if the centre was long enough?

  “Come,” said John. “I will get my horse and if you go to the far end we can see if it will do.”

  They faced each other at opposite ends, a labourer shouted ‘go’ and they both galloped towards one another. They passed each other opposite the stand and trotted round to meet at that point.

  “Excellent,” said John and Gavin agreed.

  “Are you riding, John?”

  “I hope to.” John replied. “We may meet each other if we get that far up the competition.”

  Gavin laughed and shouted.“Last one back to the stables cleans both horses.” He galloped off with John in hot pursuit. John dug his heels into Anvil and the beast increased pace and overtook Gavin.

  “ Nothing can touch Anvil in a race, but you will not need speed in the lists,” said Gavin as he led both animals away. John thought about the remark and as he helped Gavin. “Do you think we will be able to borrow a destrier for the Joust, you are right Anvil is not right for that activity.”

  “ We will have to ask Sir Cedric.” replied Gavin. That night as they sat at table John asked the question about the horses for the Tournament.

  “Well, now that I have three destriers we will be able to show our friends we are kind towards our Squires,” said the Earl with a smile. “John shall ride the black and Gavin the mixture leaving me with my faithful grey, You will find saddles, barding and trappers in the side room at the stables. The trappers are in my colours.” (Trappers were large cloths that cover the horses, usually brightly coloured.)

  John and Gavin grinned at each other. “Carac will need a lighter horse and he will find a black stallion there that will suit his purposes. Now practice your weapons and techniques to be ready for the bouts.”

  The Squires could hardly contain their excitement and wanted to go out to the stables immediately. Sir Cedric managed to keep their interest in talking about jousting and the best way to win.

  Only a week to go and the Tournament would be under way, already traders from Wymondham were coming out to claim the most favourable pitches. Soon the visiting Knight’s retainers started to arrive. Knights and their Squires moved up to the Castle and everywhere was buzzing. John was busy at the Tournament ground making sure people were directed to their correct camping grounds and did not see the arrival of Sir Robert of Lincoln. Late that evening he wearily rode back to the Castle and flopped onto his bed, he was not allowed to rest for long as Carac came beating on his door for him to go down for a meal.

  “There is a surprise in the hall, remember I had to go to Lincoln to escort someone home?”

  John leapt up and rushed down to the Great Hall, all the guests were seated and there beside her father was Tania. John’s heart skipped a beat and he bumped into Carac

  “Steady John, don’t pass out in front of everyone. The Steward is beckoning us to take our seats.”

  They sat down and John looked up trying to catch Tania’s eyes but she was engrossed in what Sir Gilbert was telling her. The wine, ale and mead flowed and the food vanished as soon as it was brought to table. The noise of men who had supped and fed well grew in intensity. Suddenly the Steward banged his staff on the floor and the babble ceased. Sir Cedric gave a welcoming speech and wished them all well in the competitions. The ladies who were present left with their maids and most of the men settled down to some serious drinking. John and Gavin slipped out.

  “I’m not joining in that,” said John. “If we’re going to do well tomorrow we need a clear head.”

  Gavin nodded, “Carac has already gone to his bed and I’m off to join him.” As they climbed the stairs. John bid him goodnight and walked along the passage, he saw a light shinning under a well known door and tapped on it.

  “Come in,” was the quiet response. He opened the door and entered the work room.

  Tania was sitting by the fire with her maid. “Hello John, I hoped you would see the light.”

  John stood in the middle of the room not knowing what to do. He looked at Tania and then at the maid.

  “I am so pleased to see you Tania, I have sorely missed you.”

  Tania looked at him. “My father knows I am here and as long as my maid is with me we can talk. I have missed you too, every day has been so hard to get through.” John moved closer and sat next to her, glancing at the maid, he took Tania’s hand and looked into her eyes, they were filled with tears.

  “How long will you be here, is there some way your father will let you stay?”

  “No, John, I am to return to Lincoln with Sir Robert.”

  “Then I will come to Lincoln.”

  “No John, to do that would spoil everything. Serve my father well and that is the best way for us to be together. I know it is hard, and I want us be together now but the wait will be worth it I know.”

  John looked crestfallen and Tania smiled at him saying,“you know I love you, be patient.”

  John looked at the maid and reached for Tania, gave her a kiss and said, ”I hear you and I will try, but not for too long.”

  John was in a black mood as he walked down the passage, he did not go to his room but climbed the stairs to the battlements. As he walked in the night air he gradually calmed down. Tania was right, Sir Cedric would never permit her to be with him without he gained some status and that meant gaining a Knighthood. John looked up at the stars and promised he would reach that goal or die in the attempt.

  Rising early John was down at the stables preparing his new mount, the destrier. He had named him ‘Hammer’ he thought it went with Anvil and he intended that his mount would ‘Hammer’ the foe. Hammer’s coat shone in the morning light, he was a very proud horse and stood tall as John adjusted the saddle and trapper, he did not armour the horse as the serious jousting did not start until tomorrow. Carac and Gavin came in and all three prepared Sir Cedric’s mount as the rest of the Squires arrived and the stables became a hive of noisy activity. John, Gavin and Carac tied their mounts to rings set in the Castle wall and John led Snow, Sir Cedric’s destrier, to the Castle door. The three men went back to their rooms and donned their armour, just padded jerkin covered with a chain mail ve
st, a breast and back plate, greaves for the legs and besagues for the upper arm and shoulder. They also had their own helms, John’s had no visor but it covered most of his face. They all stomped down to the bailey where Sir Cedric was waiting, he stood by the mounting block dressed in complete armour, his helm had an eagle on the crown with gold and red feathers waving in the wind. John and his companions stood in awe and as the Earl lifted his visor they could see he was grinning from ear to ear.

  “Does you good to dress up occasionally,” he chuckled as he mounted Snow.

  The entourage moved off Sir Cedric leading with John at his side holding his lance followed by Carac and Gavin. The visiting Knights had already gone down to their encampments and were preparing to join Sir Cedric in a grand parade.