Medieval IV - Ring of Steel

by Kevin Ashman

  ‘Out,’ came the order, ‘your presence is required.’

  Garyn got to his feet and walked slowly out of the cell. The jailer led the way up the winding stairs of the tower and through a narrow corridor built within the castle’s walls, before taking him into a side room.

  ‘Wait in here,’ said the jailer.

  Inside the room the conditions were far more comfortable. Tapestries hung on the wall and there was even glass within a window overlooking the castle courtyard. A jug of wine sat in the centre of a table along with four wooden tankards. A modest fire burned in the hearth.

  Garyn walked over to the fire, taking the opportunity to warm his body for the first time in weeks. Finally the keys sounded again and he spun around to see a priest enter the room closely followed by a woman. Behind them came Gerald of Essex.

  For a few seconds they all stared at each other before Gerald broke the silence.

  ‘Sit,’ he said and the priest sat alongside the knight on one side of the table. For a moment, both Garyn and Elspeth remained on their feet staring at each other.

  ‘I said sit,’ said Gerald impatiently and waited as Elspeth and Garyn took a seat opposite each other.

  ‘So,’ said Gerald eventually. ‘Here we are. You see Garyn, I am indeed a man of my word and can make wondrous things happen.’

  Silence fell again as Garyn stared at Elspeth, his mind racing as he recalled the brief time they had spent together all those years ago. Elspeth looked back, her gaze unwavering and Garyn detected a hint of resentment in her manner.

  ‘Elspeth,’ he said eventually, ‘the years have been kind to you.’

  ‘Have they Garyn?’ answered Elspeth coldly, ‘or is it that you see only my countenance for should you peer deeper within, you will see my heart is as aged as a crone. What brings you back here, Garyn after all these years? Why have you returned after what you did to me?’

  Garyn glanced at Gerald realising the knight hadn’t explained the reason to Elspeth.

  ‘Elspeth,’ said Garyn, turning back to the woman, ‘first of all I must say I am not here of my own free will but was coerced by others to return here on pain of death for…’ He paused, realising that she may not know her life was in danger and he didn’t want to add to her worry, ‘on pain of death,’ he said eventually and left it at that.

  ‘Such is the life of a brigand, Garyn and you should not complain for after all this time your deeds have finally caught up with you.’

  ‘It is not as simple as that,’ said Garyn quietly.

  ‘So where have you been all these years?’ she asked, ‘or am I right in guessing you ran free with other outlaws, inflicting misery on the innocent while the rest of us worked hard to earn a crust of bread?’

  ‘It wasn’t like that, Elspeth,’ he replied, ‘yes my path fell in with those outside of the law but it was the law of Longshanks, not the Welsh people. On not one occasion did I raise a fist against any I called countrymen.’

  ‘You may not have,’ said Elspeth, ‘but those you left behind still paid the price of your actions and those of your fellows on a daily basis. Across the country, penalties are levied against the innocent whenever a loss is incurred by those loyal to the English. Don’t you see? For every blow dealt by people of your ilk, twice the pain is suffered by someone who bears no guilt. Such is the way it is and such is the way it has always been.’

  ‘Elspeth,’ said Garyn, ‘the situation was complicated. I had no other option but to leave.’

  ‘You had every option,’ snapped Elspeth. ‘All you had to do was take the punishment issued to you by our laws and then come back to us. Instead, you chose to run like a thief in the night.’

  ‘Elspeth,’ replied Garyn, ‘there are things which you know nothing about. All those years ago I planned a life with the woman I loved. Together we planned a future of honest work and family values. Our bond was tight and I thought no man could tear us apart but events overtook me and though my love burned no less brightly, I had to leave that night in the interests of everyone.’

  ‘You mean your own interests,’ said Elspeth, ‘you ran from the stocks for humiliation bore greater importance than the love of the family around you.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ said Garyn, ‘there were other reasons why I ran.’

  ‘Then share them, Garyn,’ said Elspeth leaning forward, ‘cast light into the shadows of my mind for all I see is darkness and bitterness. Tell me why you ran without as much as a word of explanation and not one message since.’

  Garyn glanced at the English knight but Gerald shook his head behind Elspeth’s back.

  ‘I can’t, Elspeth,’ said Garyn, ‘it is not in anyone’s interests to now dig up the past.’ He reached out across the table and placed his hands upon hers but flinched as she snatched her own hands away.

  ‘If this is so,’ she said, ‘then why have you come here, Garyn? What reason can you possibly have except to tear apart the fabric-thin happiness that we enjoy?’

  Garyn sat back and realised he was fighting a losing battle. The woman he once loved was bitterly hurt and resented his very presence.

  ‘Elspeth,’ he said eventually, ‘your pain is evident and I am not in a position to explain the circumstances but at least know this. I swear on the graves of my family that I never intended to hurt you and things came to pass that meant I had to leave. I know that is not enough but it is all I can offer.’

  Elspeth stared at the man who she had loved with all her heart. For a second, her attitude softened as she remembered the good times.

  ‘I don’t know, Garyn,’ she said quietly. ‘Too much water has flowed under the bridge for me to be healed with soothing words. Without explanation then there can be no reconciliation.’

  ‘I understand,’ said Garyn, ‘and I blame you not. All fault in this matter lies on my shoulders and I am not worthy of your forgiveness but as wretched as I am, I have a boon to ask.’

  Elspeth shook her head in amazement.

  ‘After all you have done, you come begging favours. What is it, Garyn? What could I possibly have that will ease your conscience?’

  Garyn leaned forward and staring into her eyes, spoke softly.

  ‘Elspeth,’ he said, ‘I would hear about Thomas.’

  ‘My son?’ gasped Elspeth, ‘what about him for he is of no business of yours?’

  Garyn glanced across at Gerald.

  ‘I have heard a rumour that I may be his true father.’

  For a few seconds Elspeth stared at him, the anger growing behind her eyes.

  ‘Whatever it is you thought, Garyn,’ she hissed eventually, ‘then you thought wrong. The father of Thomas is a barrel maker and though he has his faults, a better father no child could wish for.’

  ‘I understand you married again,’ said Garyn, ‘and I doubt not the virtues of your husband but I must know for the sake of my sanity. Were you already with child on the night I left?’

  Elspeth paused for a few more moments before giving her carefully considered answer.

  ‘What if I was, Garyn? What if I was indeed carrying your child on that night? How does it affect our situation now for even if he was your son, do you really think I would let you set eyes upon him? The boy has a good life and once we get out of here, as we will, then he will return to the trade of my father, an honest fletcher. Whether I was carrying him on the night you ran is no business of yours.’

  ‘But surely,’ answered Garyn, ‘if he is mine, don’t you think he has the right to know who is his real father?’

  ‘A lustful bed does not a father make, Garyn,’ shouted Elspeth, losing her composure. ‘Even if he had been created by your seed, there is a good man out there who fed him and played alongside him even as you preyed on the plight of innocents. Someone who was there when he was ill and worked in all weathers to bring back food to put upon his platter while you were probably frequenting the taverns of knaves and whoring amongst the women of the back lanes. You have no right to come in here and
talk to me as if he has anything to do with you.’ She stood up and turned to the priest. ‘Take me from here,’ she said, ‘I am done.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Garyn as everyone else in the room got to their feet. ‘Just one more question. If ever you held any feelings for me at all, I beseech thee to release me from my torment and clear my mind. All I ask is this one thing and I will turn away never to poison your sight again. Is he my son, yes or no?’

  Elspeth stared at Garyn for the last time before taking a deep breath and giving him his answer.

  ‘No, Garyn,’ she said, ‘he is not. Your source was mistaken. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to leave.’ She stood up and walked to the door. ‘Take me back,’ she said to the guard, ‘this audience is over.’

  ‘Elspeth!’ called Garyn but the door slammed behind her. For a few moments there was silence until Gerald also stood to leave.

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘it seems I was mistaken.’

  ‘Or lied,’ said Garyn.

  ‘Whatever you wish to believe,’ sighed Gerald. ‘Oh, I forgot to say, I have been informed that Father Williams has regained consciousness and is improving by the hour. It would seem the business between him and you will soon be concluded.’

  ‘And what about our business?’ asked Garyn. ‘You said if I was to return you would set the woman free as well as her son.’

  ‘Why do you care?’ asked Gerald, ‘she has made it clear she no longer has feelings for you and the boy is not yours.’

  ‘It matters not,’ said Garyn, ‘her imprisonment was a lure to bring me back and now I am here and the Abbot is recovering, there is no need to extend their captivity. You say you are a man of your word, Gerald so let them go.’

  Gerald considered for a moment before answering.

  ‘Granted,’ he said. ‘I will have the charges dropped and they will be released immediately but don’t forget your part of the bargain. You are to explain exactly where the tomb of Macsen is and be warned, if your information is proved false then they can be brought back within hours and next time I will not be so generous. I will leave you now for I have business to attend but will return with a scribe before nightfall. Make sure your memory is clear, Garyn or you will be returned to the cell whence you came with all speed. Come, priest, let’s get out of here.’

  Both men walked to the door but just before it closed behind them, Garyn saw the priest’s hand reach back in the room and drop a piece of parchment on the floor. The door slammed shut and Garyn heard the key turning in the lock. He walked over quickly and picked up the parchment reading the simple words with fresh hope in his breast.

  ‘Garyn, be upon your guard for at the twelfth bell, friends will aim to set you free.’

  He read the words twice before throwing the parchment into the fire, his heart racing.

  ----

  An hour later, a man walked through the village of Brycheniog toward the house of the fletcher. After checking he wasn’t being followed he climbed over the fence holding in the family chickens and knocked upon the shutter in the rear wall. Inside the room, Marian jumped in alarm and Geraint looked nervously at Tarian.

  ‘That must be him,’ said Fletcher walking over to the shutter and undoing the clasp. He pushed it open a few inches.

  ‘Who’s there?’ he asked.

  ‘A friend,’ came the reply.

  ‘What can I do for you friend?’

  ‘I am here to tell you the message has been delivered safely and the other arrangements have been made.’

  ‘Is there anything else?’

  ‘That is it. Good luck.’

  ‘Thank you, friend,’ said Fletcher and closed the shutters.

  ‘Who was it?’ asked Geraint.

  ‘I don’t know and don’t want to know,’ said Fletcher. ‘There are many such people who lean against the rule of the English but each only knows one or two others. That way, if one is discovered then only a few are at risk and it minimises the amount of family men who have to run. It has been so for many years.’

  ‘So has it all been arranged?’

  ‘It has,’ said Fletcher, ‘an hour before midnight we will be met inside the castle by someone who can help us further.’

  ‘And how do we get inside?’

  ‘Leave that to me.’

  ----

  Father Williams sat up in his bed for the first time in weeks. One of the serving girls fed him a weak broth from a wooden bowl and he sipped sparingly, gasping for breath between each mouthful.

  ‘Father Williams,’ said Gerald as he walked into the room, ‘you are on the road to recovery I hear. You must have incriminating knowledge on the devil himself for I have not seen a man come back from so near to death.’

  ‘Gerald,’ said the Abbot weakly, ‘you are back. Was you successful in your quest?’

  ‘I was indeed,’ said Gerald, ‘and our quarry is incarcerated not a hundred paces from your sick bed as we speak.’

  Father Williams managed a weak smile and pushed away the offered spoon from his mouth.

  ‘Leave us,’ he said and the serving girl scurried quickly from the room.

  ‘Is it true?’ asked Father Williams when they were alone, ‘is Garyn Ap Thomas at last within my reach?’

  ‘Oh, it’s true,’ said Gerald, ‘do you want him brought to you?’

  Father Williams thought for a while before shaking his head.

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘not yet. I am still as weak as a babe and would not be able to wield a blade. Keep him safe for a few days, until I am strong enough to relish my victory.’

  ‘So be it,’ said Gerald, ‘but I believe there is a small matter yet to be resolved between us.’

  ‘You talk of my fortune?’ asked the Abbot.

  ‘I do,’ said Gerald, ‘and would seek settlement before the devil finally takes you into his fiery embrace.’

  ‘Fear not, Gerald,’ said the Abbot, ‘I will honour my pledge and as soon as the blacksmith draws his last breath, I will reveal the resting place of the caskets.’

  ‘Then let it be soon, holy man,’ said Gerald, ‘for I grow impatient.’

  ----

  Chapter Six

  North Wales

  Madog crawled through the undergrowth and stared toward Howarden Castle. Beside him was Emrys Ap Martin, commander of his infantry. The first thing to capture their attention was the magnificent round keep soaring skyward from the mound at the centre of the fortress. Beneath it he could see the smoke rising from the hidden rooftops of the buildings situated within the castle grounds, usually used as barracks for any garrison stationed within the perimeter but Madog knew no such force currently occupied them and they were used by peasants and farmers seeking shelter from the winter’s oncoming chills.

  The gates in the outer wall were open and guarded by one man only, an old soldier bearing a spear. People came and went as they pleased and a constant line of locals passed between the castle and the village a hundred yards away.

  ‘Do you see any sign of a garrison?’ asked Emrys.

  ‘I don’t,’ said Madog, ‘only a few guards upon the walls. I think the reports of our spies are indeed true and in his arrogance, Longshanks stripped most of his garrisons to fight alongside him in Gascony. In doing so he not only took a chance but treated us with contempt. Obviously he thought this area needed little in the way of defence and left a skeleton force to keep his castles dry for when he returned.’

  ‘I thought Howarden was of great importance to him,’ said Emrys.

  ‘It once was,’ said Madog, ‘when Dafydd Ap Gruffydd took this castle in Llewellyn’s campaign against the English twelve years ago, Longshanks was so angered that when the uprising finally failed he had Dafydd hung drawn and quartered with his entrails displayed across the four corners of England.’

  ‘No man deserves such a death,’ said Emrys.

  ‘Agreed,’ said Madog, ‘but since then it has become a favourite method of Longshanks when dealing with his enemies. It sends a shiver of fear am
ongst any who chance their arm against him.’

  Both men fell silent as they stared across at the castle. Finally Madog spoke again.

  ‘Are you clear about what has to be done?’ he asked.

  ‘I am,’ said Emrys, ‘and the men await your orders.’

  ‘Good,’ said Madog. ‘We will wait until darkness and then unleash our wrath upon them. With fortune on our side, they will be so distracted, they won’t see the true nature of our intentions.’

  ----

  An hour later Madog sat in his saddle. Behind him, a further hundred cavalry waited for the signal along with a hundred archers and five hundred men at arms. Though it was an impressive force, another thousand had slipped quietly from the dense forest, keeping to the deep river bank as they circled around the back of the castle.

  ‘Sire the gates are closed,’ said a voice.

  ‘Good,’ said Madog. ‘Let them settle into their false security. When we assault I want there to be maximum confusion.’ He waited for another hour before giving the signal for his force to spread out along the tree line facing the castle.

  ‘Don’t forget,’ he said to those in earshot, ‘I want as much noise and disruption as possible but don’t risk any of the men unduly. This is for appearance only, the real damage will be done by others.’ He drew his sword and held it up.

  ‘Men of Wales,’ he roared through the darkness, ‘attack.’

  Within seconds hundreds of screaming men ran across the open fields toward the castle, each shouting as loudly as they could for maximum effect. The guards in the gatehouse towers immediately manned their positions and though it was dark, could see hundreds of lights advancing toward them, the result of the fire pots carried by the archers.

  ‘Alarm,’ shouted one of the guards, ‘we are under attack.’

  The message was repeated throughout the gate towers and within minutes a dozen men ran up to the battlements to take their place along the walls. Though they were few in number, they knew they were relatively safe for the walls were formidable and it would take the attention of many siege engines to breach them.