Poisonous Plots (Anarchy Book 17)

by Griff Hosker

  William de Vesci was a knight but he had fought in few major battles, “And had they not done so then we would have lost many more men at arms and, perhaps, even that most invaluable of weapons, our archers.”

  “Our archers? It was knights lord which won the day.”

  My son shook his head, “There you are wrong, Sheriff. The archers broke up their lines. The archers prevented their men on foot coming to their aid. We had the easier task. I agree with my father.”

  I saw that the Sheriff had not grasped that concept. Like all knights he thought that he was the most powerful warrior in earth. He was wrong. “And the butcher’s bill?”

  My son had the figures. He knew why I asked. If we had lost too many then we might have to withdraw. “We lost twelve knights, forty men at arms and eight archers. There are others, like Wulfric who are wounded. He is the most seriously wounded but there are still another ten knights who will not be ready to fight tomorrow. Apart from the knights we captured there are another twenty who lie dead on the field; others are wounded. Their most grievous losses were amongst their men on foot. Aelric and his archers counted two hundred and twenty dead men on the field.”

  I began to calculate the effect in my head. I saw Samuel scrutinising me. “Then they still have more knights than we do. Their army out numbers ours.”

  The Sheriff’s face fell. My son smiled and continued, “Their greatest loss was in horses. Thanks to our archers they now have less than one hundred and twenty war horses. If the Baron Odinel was to sortie then we might be able to defeat them.”

  “We can afford no more losses. We began the day with less than eighty knights. We have lost a quarter. Our archers expended most of their arrows. We need this threat to be over.”

  “You would allow the Scots to make a peace?”

  “Yes Sheriff. In that peace you and the other lords can improve your castles. You can prepare for the next time that William comes south. No matter what happens in the morning King William will try to wrest Northumbria from our grasp again.” I waved a hand around the camp. We have achieved that which the Scots thought impossible. We have fought against odds of four to one and won. In the morning I will go to the Scots and ask for their surrender. Have the dead war horses cooked. The wind is from the north west. The smell will be a reminder to the Scots of their losses and we will eat well.”

  The Sheriff left and I sat with my son and grandson. “And then we will go to the Bishop of Durham.”

  “We will, my son.”

  “We have no proof that he was involved.”

  “No, but we have the message he sent to William de Vesci. He refused to send knights to our aid. I can order him to travel to Normandy and explain himself to the King.”

  “That does not seem a fitting punishment, grandfather.”

  “You are right Samuel, it is not but the Bishop serves not only King Henry but the Pope and while I can remove him from his secular powers, his religious title and position protect him. The King alone can remove him from office and that will require the Pope’s permission. So long as the Becket problem remains the King will have to tread carefully.” I turned to William. “I would have you manage the Palatinate until the Bishop returns from Normandy.”

  “He may not wish to go.”

  I laughed, “I will give him no choice in the matter. I will send Sir John and Sir Richard with him as gaolers. The time he is away will give you the opportunity to clean his house. Find those who are as corrupt and venal as de Puiset. Ensure that the taxes which are collected go to the King.”

  While William took in my words and began to work out what he would need to do Samuel said, “That means we would have to live in Durham.”

  “For a while you would, yes. A knight has responsibilities. I have been absent for some considerable time. That was not my choice. I serve my King. Your father knows that. I will still be in Stockton and I will visit often. As I said to the Sheriff this Scottish war is not over. Even if William agrees to surrender he has not been hurt enough to give up his dream. I need to be ready to shatter that dream!”

  With clean mail and a fresh surcoat I rode the next morning with my son, the Sheriff and our squires. We rode bare headed and stopped before the ditches. The Scottish sentries stared belligerently at us. In their camp we heard the horns as King William and his lieutenants rode to meet us. Convention dictated that they should have the same number but he brought seven knights. It told me much about the man. He was trying to intimidate me. The slope meant that we were slightly above them. Even so, when they arrived King William was almost level with me. He was a big man.

  I held my hand out and Padraig brought me a piece of parchment the priests who had been with us had produced. “Here is a list of the knights we captured and the price of their ransom.”

  The King’s squire rode forward and, bowing to me, took it.

  “You have two months to produce the ransom. They will be held at the New Castle.” I smiled, “Their quarters will be cramped for there are many of them.”

  The King wore an open face helmet and I saw him colour. “And what now, Earl Marshal?”

  “You surrender. We have more knights we can summon” I waved a hand. “This company was just enough to stop you. If you stay then we will destroy you.”

  “We will not surrender.”

  I nodded, “You have eaten the animals you captured when you arrived. You have wounded men. When my knights arrive, your ditches will merely slow us down. Our archers will rain death upon you and you will be slaughtered. Surrender and your men will live.”

  He raised his voice. He was becoming angry, “I thought you an honourable knight. What kind of knight allows a common archer to determine a battle?”

  I stared at him, “One who wishes to win! I have fought battles like this for over forty years. You know how many I have lost? None. I was there when your grandfather and great grandfather fled Northallerton. I was at Lincoln and captured King Stephen. Tell me King William, how many battles have you won?”

  For the first time doubt entered his eyes, “There may be another way, Earl Marshal. Let my army return north to Scotland and we will pay you reparations.”

  I turned to my son, “Can we trust this man who broke the peace treaty which King Malcolm told us would last beyond his death?”

  The King waved an arm, “I have with me priests. They can bring relics upon which I will swear. I am a knight, Earl Marshal. If I swear then I will keep my word.”

  I nodded, “And will you swear not to invade Northumbria again?”

  He shook his head, “If that is a condition then we will fight here until this ground is covered in our blood.”

  In many ways his last statement told me that reparations would be made. I would have to accept. My knights and the lords of the north would have to spend the next year preparing for a war and a battle which was inevitable. “Very well, fetch your priest.”

  The reparations were not massively punitive but the Scots would hurt. When the ransoms were added in then King William’s attempts to regain Northumbria had been a disaster. He would learn from them. We waited until the Scots had quit the field, escorted by the Baron of Morthpath, before we headed south. He would see them to the Tweed.

  The Baron of Prudhoe was in a bullish mood when we crossed the Tyne on our way south. “I thought to bring my knights out and join you when you attacked, Earl Marshal. Do you think we might have defeated them once and for all had I done so?”

  “It would have been both brave and valiant yet I think you were wise to stay behind your walls. Was any damage done?”

  “No, Earl Marshal but I shall improve my defences. The King of Scotland will return.” I cocked my head to one side wondering how he could be so sure. “We captured two of his men who tried to breach our defences. After some persuasion they told us that King William is determined to regain Northumbria or to die trying.”

  “And I agree.” I turned to the Sheriff. “I would have you come with me to Durham, Sherif
f. We need to have words with the Bishop.”

  “Gladly. I will keep just a few knights and send the rest back with the captives to my castle.”

  I kept just William, Harold and Richard with me. The rest I sent back to their castles. Sir John was charged with escorting Richard de Vernon. I did not want him anywhere near the Bishop when I met him. I sent my archers back to Stockton as an escort for the traitor. The captives we had rescued wished to stay with Sir James. I was pleased. Sir Wulfric had to endure the indignity of a wagon to take him south. He was not happy.

  Our banners told the Bishop that his day of reckoning had come. It was late afternoon as we approached the mighty citadel. This time we did not leave our men outside. We would need all of them. We entered the inner bailey. The huge cathedral dominated one side and the keep the other. We had twelve knights to support the Sheriff and myself.

  “Padraig, you and Samuel keep the men at arms and archers here. If we have trouble then your task is to secure the gatehouse.”

  Padraig nodded and Samuel asked, “Will there be trouble?”

  “There could be.”

  We entered and were taken to the Great Hall. The Bishop had surrounded himself with his Dean and other senior priests. In addition, there were six knights there. The one obvious absentee was the Templar. I had planned on arresting him too. I wondered where he was.

  The presence of his allies seemed to make the Bishop more confident. “Why does the Earl Marshal and the Sheriff enter my hall armed and mailed? Am I an enemy?”

  I slipped my arming cap from my head and took off my mail mitts. “That remains to be seen. We have questions which need answers. Those answers will determine your fate.”

  He paled, “My fate? May I remind you Earl Marshal that I am a Prince Bishop. I do not answer to knights.”

  “Yet you will answer to me. The Sheriff, William de Vesci sent to you for knights to help fight the Scottish invaders. You did not send any. Why?”

  “You would have had me leave my land defenceless? I protect the Palatinate!”

  “When last I came I made it quite clear what King Henry wished of you. You were ordered to offer all support to our efforts against the Scots. I ask again why did you fail to fulfil your obligations?” He was silent. “Then I will ask another question. This one has more serious implications for you. Did you conspire with the Scots, the King of France and the Templars to invade England?”

  His knights turned to look at each other. This was news to them.

  The Bishop stood, “I do not need to be insulted in my own hall!” He made to leave.

  “Sit, I have not given you permission to leave! Answer me.”

  The power of my voice made him immediately sit and he looked around furtively as though seeking another way out. “I will not answer such base allegations! God and my King are the only ones I answer to.”

  “Good. Then Hugh de Puiset, Bishop of Durham, I arrest you on suspicion of treason. You will be sent to Rouen in Normandy where you can make your case before the King.”

  He shrank in his seat. His Dean said, “Is this lawful?”

  “I am Earl Marshal!” I took out the seal of office which Henry had given to me. “I am second only to the King. If the Bishop is innocent and can prove his innocence then he will be returned hence and I will be punished.” I turned to stare at the Bishop. “I can tell you that I expect no such punishment.”

  The Bishop turned to his knights, “Are you going to stand there and allow me to be taken?”

  The Sheriff said, “They are showing sense, Bishop. This is the Earl Marshal. We have just defeated King William who is, even now, crawling back across the border.” The Bishop’s face told me that he had no idea that we had won. His shoulders slumped. Now his belligerent response was understandable. He had thought our small numbers meant that we had been defeated.

  I said, “We leave on the morrow for Stockton. My ship will take you to Normandy. You may take priests and a couple of servants.” I looked around. “The last time I was here you had a Templar. I believe he said his name was Roger de Tancraville. I wish to arrest him too. Where is he?”

  The Bishop shrugged. “I know not. He is somewhere.”

  I nodded, “Earl William of Stockton will command the Palatinate until the Bishop, or his replacement returns. All of the knights here and every knight in the Palatinate will swear to support him or I will take their manors from them.”

  The knights had no choice but I saw that it was not a popular decision. My son would have his work cut out.

  “Sir Harold, escort the Bishop to his chambers. Mount a guard on him. Sir Richard go to our men and tell them to search the castle for this Templar. Our squires saw him and will recognise him when they see him.”

  Once the Bishop had been taken away my son and I spent some time going through the arrangements for this temporary handover of power. When we were satisfied that they understood I said, “I will not be returning to Normandy. I will be in the valley and along the Scottish border. Make no mistake, my lords. The Warlord of the North will be here. You had better get used to it.”

  The Templar was not to be found. Geoffrey FitzMaurice discovered that there had been four other men who had been in the castle and appeared to have come from the far east. They too had disappeared at the same time. It had been as my banners had been see approaching the castle. Once we discovered that I had William question the knights.

  As we ate, later that night, William told me what he had discovered. “There were five of them, and they arrived almost a year ago. They were not, as we were led to believe, the Bishop’s bodyguards. The one we saw had no spurs yet the knights told us that he was a knight. They were trying to throw us off the scent. He must have been there to ensure that the Bishop did not say that which he should not. The five of them would often disappear for a month at a time. They were allowed to come and go as they pleased. They were given their own quarters. I had John of Chester search them. He found this. It was lodged behind the bed in the Templar’s chamber.”

  He handed me a piece of burned parchment. It had obviously been put on a fire and this piece had been blown from the fire. All that remained was the red smudge of melted wax and some letters, ‘eune’.

  I nodded, “Louis le Jeune. This was a letter from the King of France. I can see why they burned it. Then they were agents of Louis.”

  William nodded, “And the other Templars too. Louis demands a high price for land in France eh?”

  “I have much to say when I next write to the King,”

  Samuel had been listening and he asked, “Where are they now? Fled back to France?”

  My son shook his head, “No, my son, they will still be here in the north. They have not had time to flee. We sent word to every port and castle to watch for Templars. They cannot easily escape us. William of Scotland lives yet. He is part of the conspiracy. They left as we arrived. They could be watching the castle.”

  “Or,” I added, “finding the rest of their confederates. They are bold men. They gamble all. As we saw at Otterburn they do not fear death. Their Order is as important to them as our country is to us. They are not finished yet. We will scour the land for them.” William nodded, “I will have your family brought to you over the next few days. We will wait until the Bishop has been sent away and the traitor, de Vernon. This is your hall now.”

  We left the next morning for the ride back to Stockton. It would be good to be back in my valley. It was just a short twenty miles. With just my men and Sir Harold and Sir Richard we were are a small group. Aelric and my archers were already in Stockton and I just had my twelve men at arms and the eight who accompanied my knights.

  Like Dick, in the forests to the north, we were tricked by nature. The wind was behind us. We were entering the forests north of Thorpe and we knew that soon we would be home. The road descended to a slight hollow and then climbed a small ridge. The men of Thorpe had cleared the road side of trees south of the ridge. We were on the last section close by t
he dell. With my men guarding the Bishop it was Sir Harold’s men who were in the van with Sir Richard’s with the baggage and our spare horses. We were ambushed!

  Two of Sir Harold’s men fell first, killed by crossbow bolts. Roger of Bath shouted, “Ambush!” He waved his sword and he and four men took off to help the ones who had been attacked.

  I shouted to the six men who remained, “Guard the Bishop!”

  Men ran from the trees. They had pole weapons. Roger of Baths’ quick response meant that he and my four men reached and slew the crossbowmen before they could hurt another. It did, however, leave us weaker in the centre. I drew my sword and rode at the nearest man. I hacked the head from the spear as it was thrust at me. I kicked him in the head with my mailed foot and, as he reeled brought my sword into the side of his head. Sir Harold, Sir Richard and our squires spurred their horses towards the danger. I spied, out of the corner of my eye the Templar from Durham. He was flanked by two sergeants and the three of them were mounted. I was isolated and they came directly for me. I did not flinch. I wheeled Skuld and rode towards the Templar. I pulled up my shield. Padraig had urged his horse next to me. He bravely placed his horse between me and the sergeant to my right. I took the sword blow from the Templar on my shield.

  I shouted, “Stockton!” I needed help from my men at arms. I brought my sword around to slash at the Templar. He anticipated it and brought his shield down to block it. I heard a cry from behind me. It was Padraig. He had been struck. It was to be expected. He was but a squire and the sergeants were veterans. I was now alone with three enemies. One sergeant at arms was blocked in his attempt to get at me by the Templar knight. I dared not turn my back on him and I braced myself for the blow in my back. Skuld showed what a clever horse she was. She lunged and bit the Templar’s horse’s rump. It made her kick out and she caught the other sergeant’s mount, behind us, so that it skittered away. It also moved the Templar knight away from me. I swung my sword, blindly behind me. As it connected with something I looked around. The sergeant who had unhorsed Padraig had been about to bring his sword down on me. My blow had hacked across his chest. Even as I looked he was falling from the saddle. Behind him I saw a prostrate Padraig. I could do nothing to help my squire. I was fighting for my life.