El Campeador Read online

  I expected Rodrigo to order Diego to sound the fall back but he surprised me when he shouted, “Diego, sound form up. Let us see if we can charge them!”

  I wondered at the command and then, as there was no warrior immediately before me, I was able to see that we had hurt their best warriors and Rodrigo and Álvar had cleared all before them. The Moors were also reforming and a sudden charge might win the day. As Diego sounded the horn I glanced over my shoulder. More of our knights were coming to join us and I saw Moors fleeing into the forest. The last notes faded.

  “Diego! Sound the charge! Stay behind Juan and this time obey my command!”

  As the horn sounded, Rodrigo spurred Babieca. The grey was the best horse in the whole company, and he leapt forward. Berber and Ajax, who was Álvar’s horse, stayed as close as they could manage. It proved too much for the Moors. Even as the three of us swung our swords to hack into the three hapless warriors who had not yet rejoined their ranks, their leader had decided that they had had enough, and he sounded the retreat. We rode just one hundred paces down the road before Rodrigo sounded the recall; he was not a fool and knew that we had a victory. If we pursued them then we might lose reckless men. We had won and the Emir would be stirred to anger when he heard that his relief column had been routed. Now he would not know the true numbers who had invaded his land for men who have fled a battle always exaggerate and I had no doubt that our three hundred knights would have become a thousand to justify the flight of the men we had routed.

  It took time to clear the battlefield. The enemy dead were stripped of their mail and weapons and their bodies flung into the river. When the bodies reached Figueira da Foz then they would know of the disaster upstream. The horses were taken back, and we used them to carry our own dead whom we would bury in the Christian cemetery of Penacova. It was dark by the time we reached the town, but we buried them before we ate. Our dead deserved respect!

  Chapter 2

  Despite the fact that we had been away on our raid for some days the siege towers were still incomplete. We discovered from Don Raoul, who had stayed with the Prince, that there had been problems sourcing the timber and King Ferdinand insisted upon a ditch which completely encircled Coimbra. He did not want a repeat of Magerit, and Rodrigo approved for we had almost been undone at Magerit. However, I noticed that some of those close to the King and the Prince wondered at the power such a young knight as Rodrigo wielded. It was a warning for the future.

  We had collected animals on our way west and we had enough food for a month at least. The problem would be grazing for so many horses. We would either have to fetch in wagon loads of fodder every day or take our herds further afield to forage. Neither was acceptable as they both necessitated taking men from the siege. Our horses began to weaken a little more each day as they ate short rations.

  Three days after our return the towers were finally completed. There were eight of them and in compliance with the systems we had set in place at Salamanca and Magerit, two were allocated to each of the King and his sons. As well as his knights, Prince Sancho had brought over a thousand men at arms, archers, crossbowmen and others who owed him service. In addition to the men brought by the four royals, there were more than a thousand men who lived close to Porto and Sangalhos. The Lord of Porto would act as a reserve for any whose tower looked like they were suffering too much damage. The assault would be made by knights and the rest would attack the walls and prevent any sortie or attempt to damage the towers.

  This time the council of war involved the royal family along with Rodrigo. I was, naturally, excluded for I was a sword for hire. When he returned, he explained my exclusion. “It is Prince Alfonso, Will, there is no easy way to tell you but he does not like you. Know that his armiger is now Don Garcia Ordóñez de Nájera and you might understand.” He smiled, “If I am to be honest Prince Alfonso does not like me over much either and resents the fact that I hold such sway over his father and his brother. So long as King Ferdinand and Prince Sancho command then I am secure.”

  It all became clear. When Rodrigo and Álvar had first begun their training, we had been with Prince Sancho at Pamplona and there I had been involved in a fracas with the men who served his cousin Don Gonzalo. One had died but not at my hands. The knight and his men had been sent in disgrace from Pamplona. I had had little to do with them since but when I had seen them, they had made threats against me. It seemed those threats were echoed by their master’s family. So, we had enemies before us and, in my case, enemies within.

  Prince Sancho was aware of the disagreement and when he left the tent to speak with Rodrigo, he took the time to explain to me that this was the politics of princes. “My brother and I disagree over the way the war against the Moor is fought. We both believe we are right and, as we keep winning on the advice I give to my father, then all is well.”

  “It is no matter, Prince Sancho, although had I listened in Pamplona and been less generous then the five men would all have been hanged and I would not have to watch over my shoulder.”

  The Prince left us to speak privately with Rodrigo and Iago said, “We can deal with them if you like, Will.”

  I shook my head, “No, for I would not cause discord in the ranks of the King’s army. If there is to be trouble then let them be the instigators of it.” I smiled at Rodrigo who came back from the Prince, “So, what is our role?”

  “This time the Prince wishes to be the first up one of the towers.” My face showed my surprise. He shrugged, “When we climbed Salamanca’s walls the two of us achieved great glory. Although a tower is safer, he sees it as an opportunity to show his brothers that he is a warrior and worthy to lead his father’s army.”

  I shook my head, “Foolish!”

  “Yes, Will, but best not let the Prince hear those words. He would have me lead the attack up one tower with the younger knights while he and Don Raoul lead the more experienced ones up the other. As he said, this is the politics of princes.”

  “That is asking much of Don Raoul. Since his combat with you, he is less keen on being a knight and harbours ambitions to have a family.”

  “How do you know, Will?”

  “We spoke at Graus. He will fight and do all that the Prince asks but we both know that any distraction, especially in a knight’s mind, can be fatal.”

  Rodrigo nodded, “Then I will have Don Iago of Astorga follow him up the ladder and guard his right side. I would not have Don Raoul fall.”

  “And our tower?”

  Álvar, myself, Carlos and you, Will, will be the first across the battlements.” He smiled at his cousin, “I would not deprive Minaya of the opportunity to be the first across, but I pray you, Will, no berserk attacks. You survived one but I fear another might kill you.”

  They all laughed but I knew that their laughter hid a fear that I might repeat my foolish action and that it might be in my blood. “I shall do my best!”

  I went with my three men and our servants to prepare for a battle which promised to be both bloody and desperate. For Iago and the other men who had followed my foster father the attack up the tower would bring back sad and tragic memories. Ramon and Alfonso had been the heart of Don Diego’s men. When they had fallen at Salamanca then the world they had known had ended. It had been as traumatic for me and so I determined to do all that I could to survive the attack up the wooden tower. When we had visited Burgos, I had seen a weapon in the armoury I wished us to use and I sent Abu and Geoffrey to the wagon which had carried the weapons which the Prince had brought. They returned with just four of them for they had brought weapons I had especially loaded on the wagon for such a moment.

  They laid them before the fire and Iago said, as he stared at the strange-looking weapon, “What in all that is holy is that?”

  I picked one up. It was a pole weapon with a long broad head which was sharpened and pointed while at the base was a hook “It is called a fauchard. Don Raoul told me about them at Graus although I had seen them in Pamplona in the guard roo
m there. They have a heavy head and only the strongest men can use them.” I hefted the one I held to show them the weight. “If you think you cannot use one then choose your own weapon. I want something I can sweep before me like a long sword. The tip is sharp and can be used in the same manner as a sword. The hook allows me to pull someone, especially wearing mail, either from a wall or the back of a horse.” I swashed it to show them how it could be used. “When we made the battlements at Salamanca then the Moors had the advantage for they had spears which were longer than our swords. Ramon was taken by a two-handed sword. If he had had one of these then he could have blocked the blow. With my shield protecting my left arm it will let us clear the fighting platform.” I shrugged, “After that, the sword would be better.”

  The three of them were professional soldiers and they took the weapons and hefted them. Juan said, “I see what you mean about being heavy. You could not use one for long.”

  Iago nodded, “And we will not have to do so for long. The ramp will come down and we will pick up the fauchard. If we have not cleared the fighting platform by the time we tire then we throw it away.” He laughed, “Preferably at a Moor for it might well knock one from the fighting platform. I am content, Will, and I will use one.”

  In the end, we all chose to use one. I did not know what Rodrigo would use but we would have at least four of the long weapons on the ramp and that could only help us. We would need not only our swords but also our daggers and knives and that meant that we spent a long time at the wheel sharpening our weapons. I would not be wearing my cloak but, other than that, I would look as I did when I rode to war. That night I prayed. I had fought in a couple of battles and come close enough to death to know that I needed to ask God to absolve me of my sins. The priests I had heard preaching were always going on about how many sins man committed and that we should beg for absolution. I did so.

  We were up well before dawn for we had to help to pull and push the towers into position while it was dark and the archers on the walls could not see us. The four of us climbed the ladders inside to place our fauchards at the top. It would be easier to push the tower without them and we could climb the ladder easier and more quickly unencumbered by the weapons. The knights who would ascend would push while the ordinary warriors and farmers pulled the towers, protected by shields held above them. I did not envy them their task. We had greased the wheels and axles of the newly built towers. I would rather have been involved in the building of the tower which I pushed. I trusted my fellow warriors, but I would rather have had some of my blood and sweat in the construction! There was no horn to begin the journey; we knew when to move as King Ferdinand’s men began to pull and when we heard their creak and the groaning of the ropes then we began too. The hardest part was actually getting the construction to move. Once we had it going then it was important not to let it stop. The men with the shields protecting the pullers were the most important. If they could stop any of those who pulled from falling then we might make the walls quickly. Each fallen warrior slowed down the towers and it was an effort to begin to gather momentum once more. We were lucky. We lost just one man as he was hit by an arrow when we were almost at the ditch. The ramp across which we would run was the same width as the ditch. That also meant that we were too far away for the defenders to use poles to push us away. Although we were protected it was easier pulling the tower than trying to push it. We were luckier than most for we were all big men and our weight alone helped. The tower groaned and complained all the way to the walls as we were travelling over rough ground. The top lurched alarmingly occasionally and I dreaded that it would fall over for all our work would be negated. As we closed with the walls, so slingshots, crossbows and arrows were increasingly used against us as the sun showed the defenders the men pulling the towers. We must have been lucky for there were no stone throwers on our section of the wall and our tower withstood the assault.

  The closer we came to the walls the more men I saw that were wounded. None were dead but they had arrows sticking from their arms and legs. Our tower looked to have fared better than some I could see but that was because Rodrigo had spoken to the team who were pulling us and offered them advice and instructions. I knew that some of the other towers had not had such consideration. Rodrigo peered around the side of the wooden tower. Hefting his shield to cover his head he said, “I must choose the moment when we stop for I would not have the men exposed to danger for a moment longer than they need to be.” It was an important judgement. We had a long ramp to run across but if it was at its extremity then we could send fewer men across at a time.

  Álvar rolled his eyes for both of us knew he was taking a risk, but that was Rodrigo’s way. As soon as he stepped out a hailstorm of stones and arrows came at him. I heard some strike his shield while others clanged off his helmet. The men pulling the tower were protected by larger shields. Rodrigo’s was the small one used by knights! He seemed to be away an inordinately long time and then I heard him shout, “Stop! Take shelter!” and he came running around to the back followed by the twenty men who had pulled us close. His ventail was down and he was grinning, “Perfectly positioned! Knights, climb the towers. Put rocks next to the wheels and those who pulled can now use their weight against it to keep it stable.”

  I was already, along with Álvar and my three men, racing up the ladders inside the tower. There were three floors to the tower and men could wait at each one. The higher the tower rose the narrower it became so we needed as many men as we could on the lower floor to keep the tower stable. When we reached the top, we heard the Moors wasting arrows, stones and spears against the ramp. My three men went to the ropes securing the ramp. I picked up my fauchard.

  Álvar shook his head, “Those are frightening looking weapons; where did you get them for I have never seen one before?”

  “You probably have for they were from the weapons we brought from Burgos. I can think of no other place where I would use one but this seems an appropriate battle to use one.”

  I fastened my ventail. Don Carlos joined Álvar and me and we waited for Rodrigo. I held the fauchard in two hands. I knew I would have to weather a storm as the ramp was lowered and so the tip of the fauchard was raised so that my shield, hanging from my left arm, afforded me more protection. As soon as Rodrigo arrived, he nodded to us and fastened his ventail. He stood between Álvar and me. “Ready, Iago!

  “Aye, lord!”

  “Release the door!”

  Iago and the others knew the value of speed and the rope flew through their mailed hands as the bridge to the wall was lowered. The hook or beak on the ramp would hold it against the wall. We could not move until it was horizontal and, as it was lowered arrows, spears and stones were hurled at us. My three men had anticipated this and they were standing to the side and were protected. Nonetheless, we were all struck by missiles. That none penetrated or caused a serious wound was down to the mail and protection which we wore as well as our shields. The jubbah we wore over our mail had been copied from the Moorish ones we had seen, and Maria and the women had made them. They worked for the padded material slowed down the arrows sufficiently for them not to penetrate the mail beneath.

  As soon as the ramp crashed down three of us took off as one. Don Carlos had not fought with Rodrigo and me as much as Álvar and he was eager, too eager. He was a step ahead of us. I was the only one with a long weapon and Don Carlos, another of the heroes of Salamanca, paid the price as two Moorish spearmen rammed their spears into his middle. He had courage and, even though he knew he was dying, he launched himself off the end taking the two spears with him and his dying body crashed into the two defenders. I swung the fauchard and it ripped across the faces of two other warriors who had stepped forward to repeat the attempt to hold us and when blood and flesh flew from the two men the others recoiled. It bought the three of us the time to jump down from the bridge so that Iago, Juan, Pedro and Don Juan of Burgos could follow us and enlarge the bridgehead.

  The slow and stead
y approach of the huge towers meant that the walls, even though it was just dawn and barely light, were fully manned and, unlike Salamanca, they had sprinkled the defenders with mailed men, askari, their version of the knights we used. Until the rest of the towers had managed to breach the top of the wall then we could expect to endure the full force of the Moors. The four of us with our fauchards worked together and we jabbed forwards as one. It had the effect of a single weapon for we forced back four men who could not touch us with their weapons and that allowed Álvar and Rodrigo to use their swords and pick off the ones who were isolated. As we jabbed our way towards the tower on our right, manned by the Prince and his bodyguards, so men fell from the fighting platform and to our sharpened and bloody blades. I used the hook on the mail of an askari and I flung him from the wall. His body pulled itself free from the fauchard and I brought it back to present four deadly, albeit cumbersome weapons.

  Rodrigo’s voice boomed out behind us, “Don Juan, hold those on the other side. We will go to the aid of Don Raoul.”

  He had seen what I had not and that was the difference between us. I was a good warrior, a killer even, but Rodrigo had the ability, even in the middle of a maelstrom of a battle to see the bigger picture. Don Raoul and his men were in trouble. As I glanced up, I saw that although the ramp on the Prince’s tower had been lowered his knights were struggling to gain a foothold on the fighting platform for they used swords. Even as I watched I saw Don Luis of Barbosa as he was skewered like a fish on a pike and tossed from the wall as though he was nothing.

  I shouted to my men, “Edge towards the wall.”

  “Aye Will!”

  The four of us moved as one and I trusted that Rodrigo and Álvar would be there to protect our left side. Pedro saw the nearest defender, he was a mailed warrior with the pike which had sent Don Luis to his death. He had his back to us and was prodding and poking his long weapon, longer by far than any spear at the ramp and the knights were fearful of approaching him. If Pedro used the edge of the weapon it would merely alert the Moor so, instead, he used the hook. He hooked the Moor’s belt and he yanked the Moor to the right, towards the wall. The Moor was taken by surprise for he had just pulled back his pike for another thrust and was slightly off balance. The four of us were not only fit, but we also were strong and the Moor tumbled over the side of the walls to have his body broken in the ditch below. His weight ripped free the belt’s buckle and Pedro lifted the belt like some sort of prize.