Medieval IV - Ring of Steel

by Kevin Ashman

  Orland rode into Rhuddlan at the head of five hundred cavalry, recruited from the mid counties across England. Fermbaud was already there, commanding another thousand infantry from the north and as far as the eyes could see, there stretched a canvas city housing thousands more men controlled by Reginald De-Grey and the remainder of Edward’s own army. Orland dismounted in the castle courtyard and walked to the hall to seek Reginald De-Grey.

  A servant served him wine and meat while he waited and ten minutes later the castellan of Rhuddlan strode into the hall. Orland stood up and greeted the knight.

  ‘Sire, I am Orland of York, personal bodyguard and confidant of the king. I have arrived from the north where I have raised an army of cavalry at the king’s behest.’

  ‘Welcome, Orland,’ said Reginald, pouring his own tankard of wine. ‘You come at an opportune time for fortune does not favour us.’

  ‘In what way?’ asked Orland.

  ‘Where do I start?’ asked De-Grey. ‘The king is besieged within Conway castle without chance of relief, Cynan Ap Maredudd burns his way across the country and to top it all, we are under threat from another of Madog’s armies coming from the south. It seems we are on the back foot.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Orland, placing his tankard back on the table, ‘did you just say the king is besieged within Conway?’

  ‘I did and it is indeed a terrible thing but there is nothing I can do to help him. The river is in flood and this cursed storm holds my hand from any attempt at relief.’

  Orland walked around the room as he absorbed the information. Within seconds he returned to stand before De-Grey who now sat in his court chair.

  ‘Sire,’ said Orland, struggling to control his temper, ‘I have not had the pleasure of meeting you before though your name has come up in conversation. The king speaks highly of you and assured me you are a fine knight yet from the evidence around me I am beginning to doubt his words.’

  De-Grey placed his tankard down on the table and stared at Orland.

  ‘Choose your words carefully, sir,’ he said, ‘for you are in my castle and subject to my hospitality.’

  ‘And fine hospitality it is,’ said Orland, ‘but while we converse politely over wine and sweetmeats our king probably lives on dirty water and horse flesh. Why haven’t you launched a relief mission with every man under your command?’

  ‘It is not as easy as that,’ said De-Grey, his voice rising, ‘I have a responsibility to defend Flint and the men in this castle are tasked with doing just that. I am the only Lord in the north of Wales who has managed to hold back Madog’s advance and I will not relinquish these lands for a foolish errand.’

  ‘You call the rescue of your king foolish?’ gasped Orland in astonishment, ‘I would suggest it is the only thing that should be on your mind irrespective of the safety of Flint. I have just ridden through one of the biggest armies I have seen in years encamped on your very doorstep yet you tell me you can’t spare a column in aid of your sovereign. I am aghast, Sir and challenge your decision in the name of the king.’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ shouted De-Grey standing up, ‘the nearest ford is three days ride south of here through territory dominated by the enemy. There is no guarantee we would make it.’

  ‘And there is no guarantee that our king will survive this siege without our help,’ replied Orland, ‘whether it is three days or three months there should be a column galloping to his aid as we speak. As for the enemy forces, what did you expect? We are at war with the Welsh in the heart of their own country, of course they will defend their lands but that is why we are here. This is war, not some easy settlement in friendly lands.’

  De-Grey stared at Orland with distaste, angry that he was being lectured by a man of lesser station within the walls of his own castle.

  ‘You are full of fancy words, Sir,’ he said, ‘but with respect, you have not been here while I have kept this county safe from the rebels.’

  ‘How many men have you lost?’ asked Orland quietly.

  ‘Why is that relevant?’

  ‘Tell me, ‘repeated Orland, ‘how many men have you lost in battle to the forces of Madog?’

  ‘Like I said, we have maintained a strong garrison and kept the rebels at bay.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘We have lost not one man and that is a statement to be proud of.’

  Orland shook his head and sneered at De-Grey.

  ‘You haven’t even engaged him have you? All these months and you have steered clear of facing the rebels but pulled your forces around you like a comforting cloak.’

  ‘You are wrong, Sir,’ shouted De-Grey, ‘for as we speak I have a thousand men at arms riding through Denbigh in support of Sir Henry De-Lacey, Earl of Lincoln.’

  ‘Perhaps but there are ten times that many camped on your door while your king’s life hangs in the balance not ten leagues from here. You should be ashamed, Sir.’

  ‘There is nothing I can do. Until the weather eases, my forces are hamstrung.’

  ‘Of course there is something you can do,’ shouted Orland, ‘send half your army to reach the castle as soon as they can. Tell them to ride south to the ford within this very hour and not stop until they see the walls of Conway. They can eat and sleep in the saddle but they must reach the castle in half the time they anticipate.’

  ‘In addition, while they ride to Conway’s rescue, task the rest of the army growing fat within their tents to sweep south through the forests of Denbigh and engage Cynan’s forces immediately. Deny him the comfort of rest and add a burden of doubt in his mind. Put him on the back foot and while he worries about his own back, the relief column will have an easier ride.’

  ‘This is a war, Sir and the best form of defence is attack. You hold the main force of the king’s army within your jurisdiction yet you sit back and sip wine while the Welsh wreak havoc amongst any of English descent. Send them south to take the fight to the rebels. Madog and Cynan have had it their own way for too long.’

  ‘I suppose I could spare some men,’ started De-Grey.

  ‘There is no suppose about it,’ said Orland, ‘saddle the horses and look to their weapons. Get the infantry on the road to seek the Welsh and while they march, pack whatever ships you can get with stores and send them along the coast into the river Conway. The castle has its own dock protected by strong walls and I am astounded there are not already ships queuing up to unload stores on the pier there.’

  ‘But the weather?’

  ‘To hell with the weather,’ shouted Orland. ‘If nine out of ten ships sink then so be it for the one that gets through may save the life of the king.’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said De-Grey hesitantly.

  ‘Then let me tell you this,’ said Orland leaning on the table, ‘while you play at soldiers in your nice safe castle, I am commandeering the king’s army on his behalf. Within the hour they will be on the march and doing what it is they came here for, taking the war to the upstart prince.’

  ‘You can’t do that,’ said De-Grey, ‘you don’t have the authority.’

  ‘Perhaps not but when this is over, you can report me to the king, that is, if he still lives.’

  Orland stood up and stared at De-Grey in disgust.

  ‘Your actions so far have fallen short of a knight of Longshanks,’ he said, ‘but it is not too late. Do what you know is right, Sire and there is still time to redeem this situation. I will leave you to your thoughts but in the meantime, I have a war to fight and a king to rescue.’ Without another word he turned and marched out of the hall, leaving the castellan staring at his back.

  ----

  Orland marched across the field outside the castle and shouted orders across to his officers.

  ‘Tell the men not to set up camp but just refill their food bags and water skins. Get the horses fed and watered and lose any unnecessary baggage. They will need hard rations for five days as well as their weapons.’

  ‘What about cover, my lord?’


  ‘Leave the tents, just bring the waterproof capes.’ He walked over to Fermbaud who was deep in conversation with another knight.

  ‘Fermbaud, the situation here is appalling and I have just found out our king is under attack at Conway. I will ride immediately to raise the siege but they will need urgent supplies as soon as possible. Arrange a supply column with all haste and follow me to Conway via the southern Ford. It is a circuitous route but the only one available.’

  ‘Leave it to me,’ said Fermbaud, ‘I will gather whatever I can and set out by dawn.’

  ‘Good, do not spare the horses for I feel their situation may be dire. Ensure the column is suitably defended for the rebels presence is heavy in the area through which you ride.’

  ‘Understood,’ said Fermbaud and watched Orland disappear amongst his men as he barked the orders needed for the relief column.

  ----

  In Conway, the fires had died down amongst the houses and the besieging army now wandered through the rubble, picking up whatever they could find. Hundreds of archers formed a ring around the castle but though the occasional arrow was fired over the walls, Madog had ordered their use only as a means to keep the inhabitants guessing. Without heavy trebuchets, he knew he couldn’t breach the walls and hunger was his best weapon. Still, the occasional arrow landing in the inner wards meant the defenders had to be on their guard at all times.

  ----

  Edward sat in his rooms talking quietly with the castellan.

  ‘So, update me on the situation, ‘he said.

  ‘There are over twelve hundred souls now within the walls,’ said the castellan. ‘With the food we secured from the town and our own stores, we reckon we can last about another week at half rations.’

  ‘What about water?’

  ‘The well is half full and though this rain is a curse, we have tasked every man with collecting what they can in every container available. Firewood is limited but if the siege is prolonged, we can start taking the timber from the stables.’

  ‘Why do we need so much wood for the fires?’

  ‘Sire, the most efficient way to feed the garrison is with stew. Meat goes a long way in a broth and is easily shared out but to do this, we have to keep the cauldrons going, besides, if we have to kill the horses for meat the flesh will have to be cooked.’

  ‘If the timber runs low, feel free to take the furniture from the royal rooms’ said Longshanks. ‘In addition, ensure my officers suffer the same rationing as the men, as will I. What about weapons?’

  ‘The armoury has been emptied and the men are well armed. All the arrows are distributed amongst the archers along the walls and if the enemy come, we will darken the sky with shafts.’

  ‘Good,’ said Longshanks, ‘I don’t expect an assault but it is better to be prepared. You have done well, castellan but do not rest on your laurels. Tell the men to stay alert for there is no telling what this Welshman has up his sleeve. In the meantime, I hope my messengers will get through or this could be a very difficult winter.’

  ----

  Chapter Nineteen

  Denbigh

  February – 1295

  Cynan Ap Maredudd looked down from the ridge for a few moments more before turning to face Robert Byrd.

  ‘I have seen enough,’ he said, ‘I estimate we outnumber them at least three to one and rarely will we enjoy such an advantage. Marshall the men and rendezvous in the valley beneath Minstrel’s Crag. The ground is well suited to cavalry yet offers enough rocky protection for our archers. I estimate we have two hours before they get there so make sure our men are in place.’

  ‘Aye Sir,’ said Robert and galloped away to give the commands.

  Cynan and his army had left a minimal holding force in the captured castle and patrolled the forests of Denbigh to dominate the area and deny it to the English. At one stage they had successfully fought off a half-hearted attempt to retake the town by Henry De-Lacey but the Earl had withdrawn before Cynan could do any real damage to the column.

  Since then, Cynan’s spies had followed the English as closely as they dared and when they saw them heading back to Denbigh for the third time, they had immediately returned to warn the warlord about the renewed threat. Subsequently Cynan had taken the opportunity to deal with De-Lacey once and for all and despite the undeniable strength of the English column, his own forces could easily do them damage in open warfare. This was yet another opportunity and one that was too good to miss.

  ----

  Within the hour his men spread out across the valley presenting a wall of armed Welsh infantry. Their cloaks were heavy with rain and their simple weapons consisted of anything they could make or had been taken from the enemy after previous battles. There was little armour and what there was consisted of a mix of whatever they could find. Despite this, morale was high for they had enjoyed great success against the better armed English for many months and what they lacked in equipment, they made up for in numbers and spirit. The plan was simple, let the enemy advance upon them until they were within range of the archers hidden amongst the rocks and when they fled the deadly onslaught, the cavalry would run them down with lance and spear. Further Welsh foot soldiers would swarm from the hills on either side to attack the English horsemen and seal off the valley for this time, Cynan would allow no mistake.

  ----

  Gradually silence fell amongst the ranks and as the first of the English appeared over the horizon, Cynan rode his horse up onto a high ridge to see the battle unfold.

  ‘They’ve seen us,’ said Robert quietly, and Cynan watched as the English column spread out into line abreast. Even at this distance Cynan could see their numbers were low and he shook his head in bewilderment.

  ‘Won’t that man ever learn?’ he said with a sneer.

  ‘Every mistake he makes,’ said Robert, ‘adds more English bodies to feed our soil and that is surely a good thing.’

  ‘Here they come,’ said Cynan and both men watched as the English advanced down the valley.

  Within minutes they reached the markers placed upon the valley floor by the Welsh archers to determine range but rather than advance, the whole line stopped as one.

  ‘What are they doing?’ asked Robert, ‘it seems they are waiting for something.’

  As if in answer to his question, a horn echoed throughout the valley and as the Welsh soldiers looked around nervously, the English army’s change in tactics became all too apparent. Over the hill rode hundreds of previously unseen English horsemen and they fell upon the rear of the archers lines without mercy. From across the valley, Cynan could hear the cries of battle but apart from managing to get a few arrows away, the archers stood no chance. Within minutes their numbers were decimated and another blast from the horn signalled the English cavalry to reform at the valley bottom alongside the infantry.

  Cynan was aghast, the loss of his archers meant that any advantage he had was decimated and the addition of the new column of horses to the English lines meant his army was now severely compromised.

  ‘Where did they come from?’ shouted Cynan in anger, ‘no one told me there was a second force.’

  ‘They carry the banner of Rhuddlan,’ said Robert, ‘and must be a reliving force from Reginald De-Grey.’

  ‘Whoever they are,’ snarled Cynan, ‘our fate has just taken a turn for the worst. Even if we deploy what horsemen we have, their strength is too much and we will be routed. This day cannot be salvaged, Robert, sound the retreat before it is too late.’

  Robert gave the signal and one of the Welsh horns sounded across the valley but as Cynan’s men looked up in confusion, the English took it as a signal to attack and as the Warlord and his officers looked down in desperation, De-Lacey’s army raced forward to engage the disintegrating Welsh lines.

  ----

  The result of the battle was never in doubt for as the English cavalry crashed into the Welsh lines, the defenders immediately broke in panic and any cohesive defensive strategy was lost. Well-armed
horsemen raced amongst the fleeing men cutting them down almost at will and though some of the more seasoned veterans formed close units and fought their way toward the relative safety of the nearby hills, even they were thwarted by the arrival of the English foot soldiers, who set about them with ruthless efficiency and maximum aggression.

  ‘Robert,’ shouted Cynan, mounting his horse, ‘send a signal to the cavalry we have left, they are not to engage the enemy but leave the field immediately. Tell them to rendezvous at Builth in two days’ time.’

  ‘What about you, Sire?’

  ‘I will not treat you like a fool, Robert, this is a disastrous rout for us. De-Lacey has out-thought us this time and good men are being slaughtered without mercy. I am going back to Denbigh to gather our garrison, we need to salvage what we can if we are to have any chance of continuing the fight. Once we have mustered at Builth, we will see what paths lay before us.’

  ‘But that means relinquishing Denbigh.’

  ‘Denbigh is but a name on a map, Robert. We wrested it from the English grasp but always knew it couldn’t be held, at least, not unless there was a complete Welsh victory. That outcome took a step backward today but all is not lost, we need to consolidate and look to our options once more.’

  ‘So be it,’ said Robert Byrd and both men rode in different directions while deep in the valley below, thousands of men lay slaughtered in the mud.

  Henry De Lacey reined in his horse and lifted his blood splattered visor. Men lay dead all around him but even though they were vastly outnumbered, many Welshmen fought on in isolated groups. The Earl knew the day was won and despite his anger, even his blood lust had limits. He ordered the signal sounded to ease the attack and at last, the few hundred surviving Welshmen were given time to consider terms.

  Within the hour, all fighting had stopped and any surviving rebels were marched out of the valley at spear point, prisoners of Henry De-Lacey and uncertain what fate lay before them. The battle had been a one sided rout and the English knight knew that at last, the fight back had truly begun.