by Griff Hosker
“You may be right, Captain, but a man can never truly leave the land of his birth and while I do not like Prince Llywelyn, nor his brother, I do not think it should be ruled by King Edward.”
“That, I fear, is what will happen, but we will not fall out because of it, will we?”
“Never, Captain.”
It was important to leave no doubt about such matters.
The next day saw us riding through equally empty land. Lion seemed to enjoy the chance to open his legs and to gallop along roads that had little sign of horses upon them. I had to restrain him or risk losing the others.
When we neared Bala, I stayed with Tom and Martin in the wood we found less than a mile from the town.
David walked into the small town. He left his sword with us and took just his bow, arrows and dagger. He would try to find out what he could. As a Welsh archer, he could walk through the town with impunity. It was dark and so late when he returned that I had begun to fear for his safety. It struck me that travelling through the land of the Seljuk Turks had been easier but, perhaps, that was because the land was so empty and we had the services of Ahmed, the Mongol archer we had travelled with.
“Well?”
“He is not here in Bala, Captain, but in Rhuthun, the Clwyd Valley. I am sorry, Captain, we could have found him already.”
I nodded. “No matter. How did you discover this?”
He hesitated. “One reason I brought us here was that my sister’s son lives here. He is a priest. He was always a good boy and I knew we could trust him. He knows that Prince Llywelyn is at Rhuthun because Iago, Lord of Bala, left to join him there a week since.”
“And that explains why it took you so long. I feared for you, David. You should have told me of your family ties. I would have understood.”
“I am sorry, Captain, but the good news is that Rhuthun is but twenty-odd miles from here. We can visit with the prince tomorrow if that is still your plan?”
“It is, and hopefully tonight will be the last night of cold fare, eh?”
Despite David’s apologies, the diversion to Bala helped us, for we were approaching the Welsh prince from the south-west and doing so meant that we aroused less suspicion. Many people took me for a knight as I rode such a fine horse and many armed men were heading for the town.
We fell in with a group of Welsh spearmen and David spoke to them. He made out that I was an arrogant warrior who looked down on others. Tom and Martin had enough Welsh to be able to nod or shake their heads at appropriate moments. We only rode with them for a mile and when David gave me a subtle nod, I knew that we had all the information we were likely to get and I dug my heels into Lion’s flanks, and we galloped away.
When we were a mile from them, David laughed, “They cursed you, Captain, for an arrogant man whom they wished to cut down to size.”
I smiled. “Then I could be a mummer, eh? What did you learn?”
“That Prince Llywelyn fears that King Edward will use his brother Dafydd to rule Wales in his stead. He is gathering an army in case he has to fight.”
I knew that was not the case – yet. King Edward merely wanted homage. Perhaps my quest might not be so hopeless after all. I just needed to persuade Prince Llywelyn to travel to Chester.
The town was an armed camp, and I could see as we rode in that work had begun on a castle. The Welsh had simply destroyed the work begun on Dyserth and Deganwy, although they were close to the coast. This new castle was being built as a bastion against the English.
It was my horse that was our undoing. He drew eyes to admire him and then they saw that the man who rode him wore neither surcoat nor mail. Even more telling was the lack of spurs.
We almost managed to reach the hall, which was patently being used by the prince, before we were stopped. Two knights whom I did not recognise approached us. They spoke in Welsh, which merely confirmed their suspicions. When David the Welshman answered, weapons were drawn and there were shouts.
David turned to me. “Captain, they think that you have stolen the animal and we are ordered to surrender our weapons.”
One of the knights shouted, “English spy!” in English.
I spread my arms with palms uppermost to show that I was unarmed. “I am an emissary for King Edward of England, and I am here to speak with Prince Llywelyn.”
By now we had drawn a large crowd. Even worse, I recognised a knight who angrily stormed towards me. It was Lord Maredudd and he shouted something in Welsh and then said, in English, “You will hang, Gerald Warbow! I shall do it myself!”
Men dragged us from our saddles, and I saw others fetching ropes. This was a mob and they cared not for the rights or wrongs. They behaved as a mob always does. They changed from men who, alone, might be quite reasonable, to men among others, transformed into a single beast that had neither mind nor reason.
“I am an emissary of King Edward and this can only end badly for Prince Llywelyn!”
Maredudd backhanded me across the mouth and the metal strips on the back of his gloves tore into my cheek. “Silence! Dog! You killed good men and you will pay!”
There was a huge oak in the centre of the small town and the first of the ropes was hurled over it. I had always thought I would die in battle and not hanged like a common thief.
A Welsh voice commanded, and everyone stopped. Lord Maredudd answered in Welsh, but as I was pinioned, I could not see to whom he spoke. There was another voice and then I was released.
“You say you are from King Edward?”
I turned and saw, for the first time, Prince Llywelyn. I would have known him, for he bore a striking similarity to his brother, except that he was older and greyer. I nodded and reached into my tunic for the pass the king had given to me. As I handed it to him, I said, “I am Captain Gerald Warbow of Yarpole.”
He looked up from his reading. “The man who attacked my silver mine!”
I said firmly, looking him in the eyes, “The man who rescued his men from captivity and did not take a single piece of silver.”
I saw the glimmer of a thin smile upon his lips. “Aye, they say that you speak the truth and care not whom you offend.” He seemed to see my bleeding face for the first time. He looked to the side and snapped something in Welsh. Lord Maredudd answered and when Prince Llywelyn spoke there was ice in his voice. Lord Maredudd stormed off.
The mob, their fun spoiled, also began to disperse. I saw that my men had not been touched. I was the only one with a wound.
“Captain Warbow, I am sorry for your treatment. Lord Maredudd is a bitter man. Give them back their weapons.” His men handed us back our swords. They had not discovered the daggers in my boots.
I nodded. “And a coward! He behaves thus with a mob behind him but when he faces warriors, he runs! The next time my bow has an arrow nocked and he is before me, he will die.”
The prince laughed. “And I believe you, but you are here to talk of peace.” He nodded towards my horse, which was being tended by men wearing the prince’s livery. “A fine horse. How did you acquire him? War?”
I shook my head. “A gift from the king.”
“He will be cared for and you and your men will be my guests, but you will understand that you will have a guard on your chamber.” He smiled. “For your own protection, of course.”
I smiled back. “Of course.”
The hall he was using must have belonged to a rich Welshman, for it was furnished well with fine tapestries and wall hangings. There was no sign of a woman in the place and I remembered that the prince, although more than fifty years of age, had yet to marry. Eleanor de Montfort would be his bride if King Edward allowed the marriage.
The prince seated himself on a large chair before the fire and gestured towards another that was close by. “If you would surrender your sword and your men leave us, we can speak privately, for I think that what you have to say to me will be delicate.”
I nodded and unstrapped my sword. “Of course.” I did not hand the sword to the capt
ain of the guard, who held out his arms for the weapon, but to David the Welshman.
The prince smiled and said something in Welsh. My men were taken away and a servant brought in some wine and two goblets. We were left alone, and the prince poured the wine. He handed me a goblet and the pass. “You are a brave man, Captain Gerald, for you have annoyed many of my men.”
“I have never attacked your people wilfully. When I rescued Robin, son of Richard, it was because he had been taken. When Lord Maredudd destroyed Luston and attacked Yarpole, we merely defended ourselves.”
He held up his hands. “And that is why I am speaking with you. I know my own people.” He wagged a finger. “You did attack my men and rescue Owain ap Gruffydd.”
“I did so at the request of his mother, Lady Hawise. I am sorry if your men were hurt in the process.”
His face darkened. “My brother’s hand was in that! Do you have brothers?”
“I am the only son my father had.”
“Then you are lucky! Blood binds us but my brother is ambitious and would kill me if he could. I have never threatened him and yet he would kill me.” He drank some of the wine. “So, what is it that King Edward proposes?”
“It is simple enough, Prince Llywelyn; King Edward awaits you in Chester. When you go there and pay homage, as is his right, then the matter is ended. He just requires what you promised to his late father.”
He nodded. “And I will be safe in Chester?”
“Safe?”
“There will be no knife in the night to end the threat of a free Wales?”
“That is not King Edward’s way. I have served him for many years, and he is not dishonourable.”
The prince laughed. “He may not be, but so long as my brother and the snakes with whom he surrounds himself are abroad, then my life is not safe outside of my borders. You know that he plotted to have me killed?”
“You have my word that he will not get close to you.”
The prince was shrewd. “You do not like him!”
“My personal opinion is immaterial, Prince Llywelyn; the fact is that if I give my word, then I will keep it.”
He nodded, almost absentmindedly. “That is what I have heard of you.” He drank some more. “Tell King Edward that if he comes across the border to Mold, which is halfway twixt Chester and here, then I will bend the knee.”
It was my turn to drink and to choose my words carefully. “Prince Llywelyn, I am just the emissary from the king. I will return and give him your request, but I know the king and he will not stir from Chester. If you do not go to him, then he will take it that you refuse to pay homage.”
“And that will mean war?”
I shook my head. “I am an emissary and I do not know what is inside the king’s head, but he will be displeased. You must know, Prince Llywelyn, that despite the strength of the Welsh mountains, you cannot defeat King Edward. He is a warrior, and his father was not!”
“You have a Welsh name, Warbow; are you from a Welsh father?”
“I grew up not far from here, but my father served the English. I am English.”
He smiled. “You know, despite your reputation I wondered if you came here to kill me. It is why I had your sword taken away.”
I smiled and in one motion drew one of the daggers from my boot. “If I had wanted to, Prince Llywelyn, then you would be dead.” I replaced my dagger. “I made that demonstration to let you know that you can trust me and my word. If I say you will be safe at Chester, then you will be.”
He nodded. “I will consider your words. It is too late to leave this night and besides, there may be danger on the road. I will have my men escort you to Mold on the morrow and you may tell King Edward that I will consider his words.”
“Do not be tardy in your response, Prince Llywelyn. The king has waited more than a year and his patience is wearing thin.”
“I do not trust my brother, but you seem an honest fellow and I will give your words and the request due attention.”
The meal was endured rather than enjoyed. The prince was distracted and whilst he was friendly enough, the barbed comments and hateful glances from the other lords who attended made it a trial I could have done without. The prince had forbidden Lord Maredudd from attending but that was a double-edged sword. Where was he if not at the feast?
When we departed the next morning, we were escorted by two knights and ten men at arms. They said nothing. Mold was neither Welsh nor English, and so when we reached the outskirts, the knights and our escort simply turned and left.
We had just twelve miles to go and so we watered our horses and I spoke with my men. It was the first opportunity I had had to do so. “Well?”
David the Welshman rubbed his chin. “I like this not, Captain. They could have escorted us to the Dee. That is the real border; why did they not do so?”
I nodded. “String your bows. It is important that we reach the king. He is a patient man, but if he has no word from either us or the prince, he will assume the worst and there may be war.”
Our horses refreshed and with strung bows, we left and headed for the Dee. I had no bow with me, and I felt naked. We passed Buckley, but the doors were closed as we rode through. This was the border, and any armed men were dangerous.
Ahead of us was the remnant of a huge ancient forest. I knew it, for when I had fled the wrath of the men of the lord I had killed, I had fled through part of it. Some outlaws lived within it, but they did not worry me. I had managed to deal with them when I had been alone, but I knew it to be the most dangerous place we would have to pass. Broughton, the next village, was nothing.
As we approached the tree-lined road, I said, “Be wary.”
My two words were enough, and they each nocked an arrow. I drew my sword and led them in single file along the tree-covered road. There was fresh horse dung on the road. It was not steaming but it had yet to set. Under normal circumstances that would mean nothing, for this was a major road which led from Wales to England, but these were not normal times.
I peered into the gloom of the trees. I had yet to ride Lion into danger. Had this been Eleanor, then I would have known the signs that told me that there was trouble ahead. I would have to rely on those instincts that had kept me alive thus far.
None of us spoke and the only sound we heard was the hooves of our horses on the road. It was the bird, some fifty feet from us, which suddenly took flight, that alerted us to the danger. To many men, it might have just been a shock, which made them look, but I had well-trained men and their bows came up.
The ambushers made another mistake; their first had been that one of them had moved too soon and alerted the bird. The second was to spring their ambush prematurely. My men had practised loosing bows from the back of horses and, whilst not as accurate at a range of fifty feet, they were well within range.
The ambushers had no archers with them and Lord Maredudd and his ten men at arms simply galloped from within the eaves of the trees. Had we fled, there was a chance they might have caught us, but they struggled to leave the safety of the trees as there was a ditch alongside the road, and three arrows stuck the leading three men.
I dug my heels into Lion. This was what he had been bred for, and his turn of speed took not only me by surprise but also Lord Maredudd and the two closest men. Swinging my sword, I slammed it across the shoulder of a man at arms, and Lion snapped at Lord Maredudd’s mount, making the animal veer off to the side, the knight barely managing to hold on.
The other man at arms was a little way behind Lord Maredudd and the first man at arms. I lifted my bloodied sword above my head as Lion, the bit between his teeth, began to open his legs. My courser was larger than the sumpter ridden by the man at arms and his horse baulked. It saved the life of the rider, for my blow just struck the man on his brigandine. It sliced through to the flesh, but the cut was not deep.
I risked turning in my saddle and saw that my three men had drawn their swords and the Welsh were fleeing. Once again Lord Maredu
dd’s actions had weakened his men, but I took no chances and when the three of them joined me, we galloped hard for Broughton.
It soon became clear that they had given up on their attempt on my life. I shook my head as we neared the village. We had been lucky. I should have brought more men. My three companions, however, were elated. We had driven men at arms away and that was to be celebrated. None were sure if they had seriously hurt the men they had hit, but one thing was certain, they would remember Captain Warbow’s archers and be even more cautious the next time.
We reached the bridge over the Dee in the late afternoon. As we rode across the river, the city seemed almost empty compared with what I had expected. The king and his entourage had yet to arrive. For us that was good.
My pass gained us chambers in the castle, albeit a small one, and better stabling for our horses. It also gained us food, but we did not eat in the Great Hall, which was reserved for the great and the good. Instead, we ate with the garrison. The food was good, and we did not have to worry about etiquette. While my men regaled those on our table with the tale of our journey, I was silent. I had done all that was asked, and yet I did not know if King Edward would be pleased or angry.
We ate with what I called real soldiers. These were the men who did not ride to war on horses and did not own the finest of weapons. For all that, they had a great skill, for they had learned to survive on a battlefield where the odds were all in favour of the men in mail who rode warhorses. We learned that the Dee was the real border. Some lords lived on the other side, but they had no real security and what was needed was a castle.
Old Geraint of Abergele knew what he was talking about. “I know, Gerald Warbow, that you lived in that land, but when you lived there, we had men who fought against the Welsh along the Clwyd. I know it does not do to speak ill of the dead, but old King Henry did not know one end of a sword from the other. He only did well when he brought down some of the warlords from the north to fight for him. Then we held back the tide, but the Scots saw how weak King Henry was, and when his son went to crusade, then the barbarians were banging at the door.”
