The Princes' Revolt Read online

We saw the Scottish scouts first. Mounted on hobelars they galloped from the village. As soon as they saw our banners they stopped. Aelric and my archers were too well trained to give away their position. The six men turned and rode back to Gretna. We all had our helmets hung from our cantles. We would have our heads enclosed in steel soon enough. Sir John said, “Quite a pleasant part of Scotland, this valley. Why does the King not take it and then Carlisle would have more protection? A castle at the bridge would guard the border.”

  “Perhaps he will. At the moment the Vexin is the problem. I am confident that we will take it one day.”

  We heard trumpets and horns from the direction of Gretna. The Scots were coming. They had seen our dispositions. They came at us using a broad front. They had the wild men of the islands on their right. In the centre they had their knights and behind them what looked to me like their men at arms and the levy. I saw Lord Douglas halt and consult with his two Frenchmen. The stakes and the woods prevented his horsemen from charging. A horn sounded and his men at arms and the fyrd made their way through the horsemen. Already they were not doing as I had expected. Without the Frenchmen giving advice the Scots would have charged us. The men at arms would chop down the stakes and allow their knights to pour through. Even more alarming was the fact that the wild men came at the beck without any order, they just charged. Philip had just one hundred archers. They would have to split their arrows between the wild men and the men at arms.

  I donned my helmet and waved for Ralph. The wild men had covered half a mile by the time he joined me. “I need the horn. Stay by me but when we contact the Scots then ride to the rear. These wild men have no concept of knights and squires.”

  “Aye lord.” He sounded brave but I knew that he would be fearful. The Scottish and Hibernian warriors were half-naked savages, notoriously hard to kill. The French advice must have been to sacrifice them. Our archers had the range of the beck but they could not see it because we were there. We had a signal arranged. As soon as the Scots entered the stream my household knights all lowered their spears. To the Scots it would appear as though we were going to charge but to my archers it was the signal to rain death upon them. The men at arms, closer to the woods, were slower in their approach. Sir Philip and his archers would be able to send five or six flights towards the stream before they needed to divide their arrows.

  As soon as the arrows hit the air was filled with feral screams and shouts of anger. The arrows kept coming and many Scots and Hibernians were killed and wounded. The handful who managed to evade the arrows then had to negotiate the stakes and finally the muddy ground. Our archers managed seven flights before they had to switch targets. I pointed my spear. “Charge!”

  It was not really a charge for the Scots were just forty paces away but we struck them with a wall of spears and snapping horses. Had their full numbers made it across we might have struggled but, as it was, we used them as target practice. Without mail wherever we struck was a mortal wound. Even so many of them did not die easily. They died hard. The third Scot I struck tore the spear from my hands as he died. I drew my sword but the Scots were now trying to tear the stakes from the ground. Many fell to arrows as they did so.

  “Ralph, sound fall back!”

  I backed Volva back the forty paces. It was as well that I did for one Scot had been feigning death and he leapt up with a curved sword. Volva lived up to her name and she swung around allowing me to swing my sword sideways into his skull. As we lined up again I saw a horse standing forlornly amongst the dead Scots. One of the knights of Durham had been killed.

  “Ralph fetch that horse.”

  My squire galloped forward. He wisely slipped his shield around his back although the archers were now concentrating on the men close to the road. Aelric and his archers had not yet loosed an arrow. The longer they remained hidden the more success we would have. More than half of the stakes had been removed when Ralph returned with the horse. I pointed to the rear. He took the horse there. We could not allow the Scots to take our horses.

  I watched the two Frenchmen speak with Lord Douglas and some men at arms were sent to bolster the resolve of the wild men and the Hibernians. Almost all of the stakes had been removed but at a great cost.

  Sir John said, “Here they come lord. Now the Scottish knights think they have us.”

  Ralph returned with a fresh spear for me as the Scottish horns sounded and a hundred knights and twenty men at arms, not to mention eighty squires, charged obliquely at us. “Ralph sound wheel right!” The Scots were five hundred paces from us. They had kept well out of our archers’ range. They were keeping a good line. We had time enough for the Scots were about to get a shock as the archers in the woods released their arrows. We managed to turn our line when they were two hundred paces from us and then Sir Philip’s archers added the weight of their own arrows. With arrows falling on them from two directions the knights could not defend themselves.

  “Forward! Sound the charge!”

  My plan was a good plan. Despite the interference of the French knights we were still in a position to win and then fate, in the form of some of the knights of Durham, intervened. Twenty-three knights on the extreme right of our line turned and fled. They left a hole. It was too late to adjust our point of attack. Had not Aelric and Sir Philip’s archers increased their rate of arrows then all would have been lost. They drew and released so quickly that it must have appeared we had twice the number of archers. In addition, the redoubtable and unflappable Wilfred just shifted a few men to face the new threat. He did so calmly and without hurry.

  Lord Douglas and his French advisers had not led the attack. They were watching. It was now obvious to me that their plan was to hurt us so much that Barnard Castle would be left isolated and fall. I would not let that happen. Sir Hugh was one of my father’s knights. Volva was up for a battle and I pulled my shield around a little more to my front as I pulled back my spear. Peering towards the advancing Scottish knights I saw the man I would spear. He had a yellow surcoat with a blue diagonal cross. A novice might have been tempted to go for the junction of the four arms of the cross. I aimed just above his thigh. If I struck when my spear was raised then I would hit his chest. If I hit when my spear was pointing downwards then it would be his thigh. I had fought in tourneys since the time of Geoffrey of Anjou. I had forgotten more about jousting than the Scot I fought had learned. His spear, aimed at my chest rose as he struck and smacked off the side of my helmet. It made my ears ring but did not affect my strike. I hit him above the waist. My spear struck bone and the head was sheared from my spear’s shaft but the Scot had a mortal wound. I threw the broken shaft ahead of me and then drew my sword.

  I was lucky. I rode in the middle of a phalanx of my household knights and men at arms. I was well protected. The Durham knights whose peers had fled were struggling. If Wilfred and my dismounted men at arms had not been there then that might have been the end of the battle. As it was we were holding them.

  My line of household knights had broken through their first rank. Those in the second were not as good as the ones we had felled. The spear which was thrust at me was easily blocked by my shield. A sword is a more accurate weapon in close combat and I swept it across the middle of the knight. I broke links and ripped through his gambeson. As I drew my blade towards me I saw blood. I was now the tip of an improvised wedge. We were driving deep into their lines. Aelric’s archers were having a devasting effect. Their arrows were no longer being showered upon the enemy. Using the woods as cover each archer was acting as an individual and targeting knights whose backs were towards them.

  The Durham knights, however, were suffering. The departure of their cowardly peers had isolated them. Their lack of skill became apparent and they died. As they died so my wedge became increasingly isolated. Had I not had my men at arms then I think we would have been defeated already. We were no longer moving forward for there was a press of knights and men at arms before us. Our skill was our salvation. We did not panic. Eac
h knight and man at arms fought the man before him. Our horses fought too. The Scottish horse was not as good a beast. Even so I wondered if we would win and then I heard, from the east, the sound of my horn and a voice shouting, “Charge!” I heard the thunder of hooves.

  There was no time for speculation for we were fighting for our lives. I saw Sir Gilles of Normanby’s surcoat. There was blood and it was on his back. He was wounded. Sir Harold’s horse had a wound. Whoever was coming to our rescue had to reach us soon or it would all be in vain. I blocked the blow from the Scottish sword with my own blade. I sensed, rather than saw, the sword which was thrust at my left side. I stopped it with my shield and, as I did so I lifted my foot from my stirrup and kicked with my right leg at the knee of the Scot. It hurt and as he reeled I rammed my sword into his upper arm. I wheeled Volva just in time to block the blow from the second Scot. My horse snapped at his horse and when his horse whipped its head away from Volva’s snapping jaws I brought my sword down onto his shoulder. It bit through the mail and into flesh.

  Then there was a clash of steel and the sound of neighing horses as my son and Sir Ralph led mounted and mailed men into the side of the Scots attacking us. Allied to Aelric and his archers attacking from the rear it proved too much for Lord Douglas’ army. The Scots tried to flee. In those few moments twenty men at arms and six knights died. As the others tried to flee I heard Scottish horns sound. They were retreating.

  This was the moment when my decision would determine if we won or lost. “Knights and men of the valley. Get fresh horses. This is not over yet!”

  I looked around and saw that Ralph was not riding to me with my spare horse. He was riding him. I saw then that the charge had been made of our squires, men at arms and a handful of the Durham knights who had fled. I waved him over and saw that his sword was bloody. “Well done Ralph. Give me Lightning. Take Volva to safety and then follow with Goldie.”

  “Aye lord. Sorry that I rode your warhorse but your son…”

  I smiled at him, “Do not apologise. It was the right decision. Wilfred, Take charge here.” Most of the Durham knights were in no condition to pursue. I led just thirty knights and twenty men at arms as we chased the Scots. I had much to thank my son and Sir Ralph for. That would have to wait. We galloped through Gretna ignoring the wounded and the camp followers who fled at our approach. We did not bother with the abandoned baggage. We would take those upon our return. Our horses were fresher than the Scots and we began to gain on them. We had no formation and we spread out in the fields next to the road. The men on foot were the first to die. Leaning from my saddle I swept my sword across the side of the head of the man at arms who had lost his horse. Then I spied Scottish knights. My surcoat was known and feared.

  Four of them, seeing that I was hard on their heels reined in and shouted, “We yield Earl!”

  I reined in and turned, “Sir Gilles of Norton and Ralph take these men back to Gretna.”

  “Aye lord.”

  My knights and men at arms had not waited. They continued the pursuit. I saw more Scottish knights yielding and, as I passed Sir Harold I saw one of the French knights. He turned to look back. That was always a mistake and his horse stumbled. He was thrown into the ditch at the side of the road. Aware that our horses were tiring and the capture of Scottish knights had thinned our numbers I held up my hand and shouted, “Hold and reform!” I turned and saw that Samuel was close by. “Find a horse for this knight. He may be the most valuable treasure we capture this day!”

  “Aye father!” The joy of battle was on my son’s face and I was proud of him.

  I dismounted and walked over to the knight. I took off his helmet and removed his arming cap. He had fallen awkwardly. His leg was at a strange angle. It was obviously broken and he was unconscious and there was blood coming from his nose. I needed him alive. We had a couple of priests with us. They had come from the Palatinate. Perhaps they could be of more use than their knights had been.

  Samuel walked over with the horse. “Help me to drape him over the saddle. We must get him to the healers.” I wished now that I had brought Brother Peter with me but I had left him at Barnard.

  Once he was secured my son held the reins and we headed back the five miles to our camp. “Why do you need this one alive, father?”

  “For he is French and close to Lord Douglas. We may learn much from him. You and Sir Ralph did well. What happened?”

  “Those cowards tried to flee the battle. We would not let them use the bridge for you had ordered us to hold. Some risked the river to escape. Three did not emerge but two rode east. Sir Ralph berated the others and said he would slay any who did not turn around and follow him. I went to the squires and ordered them to arm. It was little enough we could do but we thought if we sounded the horns and charged then the Scots might think we reinforced.”

  “It worked and today the two of you earned your spurs.”

  When we reached Gretna, I saw that Wilfred had seized the baggage, the food and the wounded knights. We saw them as they trudged towards our camp. We spurred our horses to overtake them. Wilfred was riding a horse with his spear pressed into the backs of four wounded Scottish knights. He grinned as he turned and saw me. “These buggers think they deserve special treatment because they are knights! They didn’t surrender they were captured and will be treated accordingly.”

  One of them, with his arm in a sling turned and complained, “Your barbarian has no right to treat us thus. We are nobles.”

  I drew my sword, “Call him a barbarian again and I will teach you some manners. You were captured by Wilfred of Stockton and he can decide what happens to you! I would be pleasant to him, if I were you!”

  On reaching the camp, I saw the healers were working on Gilles and the other wounded. Samuel and I took the knight from his horse and laid him on the ground. “Father, when you are done with those here is a Frenchman. I would have him made so that I may talk to him.”

  The priest looked up. I recognised him from my visit to Durham. “You have won a great and surprising victory, lord.”

  “It was not a surprise to me and would have been much easier if the knights the Bishop had sent had done their duty.” There was anger in my voice but the priest just nodded as if he was not surprised.

  Sir Samuel said, “I will go and see how the others are faring.”

  He finished bandaging Sir Gilles of Normanby and I helped him to his feet. It was Sir Gilles’ left arm. “Tomorrow, Sir Gilles, I want you to escort the wounded and the prisoners to Carlisle. We have a siege to raise.”

  “I can fight with you, lord.”

  “You are wounded and I need someone I can trust to do this for me.”

  “Aye lord. Your son and Sir Ralph did well.”

  “They did.”

  He and his squire left us. The priest said of the Frenchman, “His leg is broken but that is not life threatening. I am more concerned about his head.”

  “Do your best.” I waved over Henry son of Will. He had been a wild man when in the Holy Land but since he had married and become a father he had settled down. He was reliable and he was tough. More importantly he could speak French. “Watch this one. I want to know when he can speak.”

  “Aye lord.” He nodded to Samuel who was speaking with Sir Harold and Sir Ralph. “I hope that my son turns out to be a game ’un like Sir Samuel.”

  “Aye, I am lucky.”

  I wandered over to Sir Ralph and my son. They were talking with Sir Harold. “Make a note of the names of the men who fled and did not rally. I will see that they pay for their cowardice. We lost too many brave men this day.”

  Sir Ralph pointed to the squires. Many had been wounded and now sported bandages, “They all did well, lord. None of them even hesitated about following us. We will have true knights in the future.”

  “Sir Harold, I would have you go to speak with the knights of Durham who survived. Tell them that tomorrow we ride to Barnard Castle to raise the siege. I expect nothing less than t
otal commitment from them.”

  “I suspect that you will probably get it now. I think they were shamed when the squires did what they would not and do not forget, lord, that there were over forty who did not flee. They fought the men of the isles and the Irish.”

  “You are right to chastise me. The beaker is half full and I see it as half empty. I am sending Sir Gilles, the wounded and the prisoners to Carlisle tomorrow. Make sure that any with a wound, no matter how small, should go to Carlisle. Sir Gilles will need all the help he can get and I would rather have fit men.”

  Sir Harold pointed to the cloak covered bodies of our dead, “And those men?”

  “We have priests. We will bury them in the churchyard here.”

  While the archers scoured the battlefield for any who were still alive and to collect weapons, mail and treasure, the knights and men at arms buried our brothers who had died. Before we left, the next morning, I sent four of the squires we had captured with our ransom demands. It would be taken to Carlisle and Sir Gilles could return with it.

  I went to the French knight. He was awake. “What is your name, Frenchman?” I spoke in French.

  He stared at me. He was obviously in pain from his recently set leg. “Louis of Limoges.”

  “Do you wish to be ransomed?” My question was laden for if he said ‘aye’ then he would be accepting surrender and his parole would be given.

  He nodded, “You are a clever general Earl William. I advised Lord Douglas to keep to the plan.”

  I knew that the priest had given him a draught to ease the pain and it had made him careless. I gambled, “It was a good plan too but Lord Balliol will now be under attack from the knights of Northumbria and the knights of York. Your plan has failed. Two armies have been defeated by our three.”

  It was not the truth. It was a ruse de guerre but Sir Louis showed his disappointment in his face. “How did you discover our plan?”

  I stood without answering him. “Have this knight taken to Carlisle. He will be ransomed with the rest.” As I went back to my knights I was confident that there would be no more surprises. There was just one army and it was Balliol’s. I had feared that King William might attack the north of Northumbria but I knew now he would not.