Poisonous Plots Read online

  I rode slowly back to my men. Dick winked as I passed him, “I think he may have filled his breeks, Warlord!”

  We retired to beyond crossbow range and dismounted. “Make horse lines. We camp here.”

  Alain of Auxerre returned an hour or so later, “The King is pleased. He is sending men to aid you.”

  Just before noon Sir Robert Mortimer appeared. He was leading ten knights, twenty men at arms and one hundred of the fyrd with wagons. Sir Robert dismounted, “We have tents. The King would have us make camp here. When he sounds the horn three times, on the morrow, we will attack.”

  “Have we lost many men?”

  “No, Earl. It has gone as the King planned.”

  I waved over Dick, “When we were close to the ditch what did you see?”

  “No stakes, no ankle breakers and nothing in the ditch which might slow a warrior down. The wall has no slits and so the crossbows must release from over the top of the parapet. The gate looked to me to be weak and the bridge is permanent. They cannot raise it.”

  “Then we use that as our attack. We clear the walls and the knights and men at arms can cross the bridge and destroy the gate.”

  “Aye lord. We could use a forge to heat arrows and set fire to the wooden ramparts and embrasures.”

  I nodded. It was a good idea. Turning to Sir Richard D’Avranches I said, “The fyrd, they are your people?”

  “Yes Warlord.”

  “Have them prepare as many faggots as they can. I think the gate might burn and will save us casualties.”

  “Lord?”

  I pointed to the smoke rising from a building inside the castle. “They are heating pig fat. If we try to assault the walls then we will lose many men. We use faggots and fire arrows to fire the gate. Robert of Bath!”

  “Aye lord!”

  “I want a forge building. We are going to heat the arrow heads up so that they are white hot. We will burn the palisade and the gate. I will not waste one man on a frontal assault. This place is not worth it. Dick, have two of your archers return to the ambush site. They can warn us of any reinforcements.”

  Sir Robert said, “And what of my men?”

  “They can watch what we do and when the gate and walls are afire then they can charge into the castle and claim the glory of being the first within the walls!”

  He looked bemused, “Aye lord!” I saw Dick and my men at arms grinning.

  “James, get some hot food. I am hungry!” I was not but I knew that the men who had just arrived would gain confidence from seeing me eating and relaxing. There was little enough to do in any case. Nothing would begin until the horns sounded. This would be an old-fashioned attack. We would not be using siege machines. Men would attack the gates and the walls. The other attacks might be expensive in terms of men but my attack would incur the minimum casualties. Sir Robert was in for a lesson in conserving men. We would need them when the Count de Rennes came north.

  My tent was the first erected and I took off my mail. James brought in my baggage and war gear while the fyrd made the tent habitable. I think they were in awe of serving the infamous Warlord. I sent Padraig for some water. I needed to wash. By the time I had bathed my tent was ready and there was even a pallet on which I could lie down. James brought in some ham which had been fried and he had managed to acquire some bread. It was delicious. After I had quaffed some wine I felt replete. I rested my eyes. I could do nothing until the morning. All my plans were in place. I found that I was able to nap. I was getting old!

  When I awoke, it was dark. Padraig was at the tent door. “It was my turn to watch lord. There is nothing to report. We have the faggots ready. Sir Robert found some oil to soak them. The forge is ready and we have lit it. Roger thinks that it will be ready by morning.”

  “Excellent. Have men cook some food and then invite the knights to sup with me.”

  “Aye lord.”

  When we attacked I would not be leading my men at arms. I would be leading knights and the men of Robert Mortimer. I owed it to the men to get to know them. It was an informal gathering. We had neither tables nor chairs. My men at arms hewed down a few trees. The trunks made seats and the branches made fire to cook the wild pigs which Tomas ap Tomas and his men had hunted. They also enjoyed the bounty. The fyrd enjoyed an offal and bone stew. It went down well.

  I was questioned by the younger knights. “Is it true that you were in many tourneys and never lost a mêlée?”

  I smiled and sipped some of the wine which Robert Mortimer had brought. “That was a lifetime ago. I fought a civil war since then as well as a war in Ireland and Wales but you are right. I never did lose a mêlée. It is good training for battle. I was lucky. I fought with the Knights of the Empress and there were no finer warriors. The Swabians were hard men. Sir Guy and Sir Edward were the finest men with whom to fight.” I saw James grow as I mentioned his father.

  “There are no more tourneys.”

  “There will be, Sir John. The King, your Duke of Normandy, needs to secure Brittany and then he can enjoy pleasures such as hunting and tournaments.”

  Sir Robert asked, somewhat ominously, “And the French?”

  I turned for he had introduced a sombre note. “What do you know of the French and their plots, Robert Mortimer?”

  “My lands lie close to Chateau Galliard in the Vexin. I know that the French King plots and conspires. I was offered coin to betray the Duke.”

  I was intrigued, “You refused?”

  “Of course.”

  “And who tried to suborn you?”

  “It was a Templar. Bertran of Clairvaux. He came to our castle two years since. We thought he came to recruit for the Holy Land. My younger brother died there. He said that it would be worth my while to support the French King. He said there were people in high places plotting the Duke’s downfall and the greatest riches would come to those who joined first.”

  “And where is this knight?”

  “When he failed he left. He tried the other castles and manors close by. I heard that he went to some of the castles along the Anjou border.”

  I wondered if he had been to La Flèche. “Thank you for your honesty. I think the King would have liked to have been told this. When next you see him, I would mention it. If ever you see this man again and I am close then I pray you tell me.”

  “I will Earl Marshal, I swear.”

  It was, that apart, a merry meeting and all retired happy. I was not so fortunate. I found that sleep evaded me. Perhaps the nap had robbed me of the need for a deep sleep. My son had warned me of the Templars and their duplicity. They were closely allied to the Pope. The Pope was interfering in English politics through Thomas Becket. This conspiracy was growing larger by the moment. As a result of my disturbed sleep I was the first awake. Padraig had slept across the entrance to the tent and I disturbed him as I went to make water.

  “I will fetch food, lord.”

  “I am not hungry yet. I need to make water. Go and speak with the night sentries. Find out if all went well last night.”

  My movement woke others and with a short time of my awakening most of the camp was awake. It was not yet dawn but there was a lightening in the sky which bespoke of a new day. I dressed and armed. Padraig returned.

  “The sentries heard nothing save the change of watch on the walls.”

  “Good then when we have eaten we begin our attack.”

  “Do we not wait for the King, lord?”

  “No, we will do our part and the King and the others will do theirs.”

  We had three ranks of knights and men at arms. My eleven archers were behind them. To the side were forty of the younger members of the fyrd. They had volunteered to hurl the faggots. The furnace was smoking and other members of the fyrd were ready to take the red-hot arrows to my archers when I gave the command. I waited until the sun was up. The archers sent ordinary arrows at the wall s as the fyrd ran across the bridge to drop their oil soaked faggots of wood. My archers were effective althou
gh two of the fyrd were hit by crossbow bolts. The next arrows would be the ones whose tips were in the furnace, becoming white hot. The defenders would not know that the arrows could start a fire. They would smoulder in the wood of the walls. The arrows themselves would burst into flames.

  “Now!”

  The boys ran with the arrows and Dick and his archers began to send them into the wooden palisade atop the stone wall. When Dick was satisfied with the smoke which was growing by each passing moment he shouted. “Fire the faggots!”

  When the eleven arrows hit the faggots a wall of fire raced up the wall and the white-hot arrows set fire to the wooden gatehouse. More arrows flew and ensured that there was a good blaze. The flames raced up the gatehouse to the fighting platform. There was a sudden roar as the pig fat which had been ready to pour upon us was ignited. Their own weapon was turned against them. The screams and shouts from within spoke of wounds and unimaginable injuries. I turned to Dick and Sir Robert, “Now we wait.”

  Sir Richard asked, “We do not attack?”

  “No for there is little point. We cannot pass through that inferno and they cannot douse it. The gatehouse itself is on fire. They have no means to carry water there. Fire is the deadliest of enemies to a castle, even one built of stone.” As if to prove the point a huge stone abutting the wooden gate suddenly fell into the ditch. The heat had cracked the mortar and it dropped. Others began to crack. I knew not what King Henry was doing on the other side of the castle. We had been sent to stop them leaving. As I watched the fire take hold I realised that Dick’s clever idea might have made the capture of the castle easier. We watched as the flames spread along the walk way and fighting platform. The hoardings and embrasures, intended to protect their crossbows, also caught fire and that enabled the fire to race down the length of the castle walls.

  When the gates finally fell it was a dramatic moment. There was a creak and a groan and then the charred and burning timbers suddenly fell in and we could see inside the castle. I turned. “Knights made a wedge. Sir Robert you are with me at the fore. Roger of Bath, organise the men at arms to follow us, Dick…”

  He smiled, “I will watch your back, lord. Do not get burned eh?”

  In the time it took to form up the gates burned themselves out. I had no doubt they would still be hot but we had mail chausses and we would be running. Sir Robert held his shield next to mine. If anything was in our way we would be a human battering ram. Behind us were five knights. The width of the bridge dictated the size of our wedge.

  I shouted, “Roger, the beat!”

  He began shouting “Sword leg, shield, sword leg, shield,” and we all marched in time.

  As we neared the bridge I shouted, “Double time!” Roger of Bath’s voice increased the pace.

  We burst through the gate. I barely felt the heat from the charred timbers. Some were still glowing. The Bretons had prepared a reception for us and a wall of spears was before us. It was a double line but we had twelve knights and thirty-four men at arms. All of us had mail and we would take some stopping.

  I kept my shield just below my eye line. The spears we faced had sharp points but we were running and the odds on the spear head finding the slit in my helmet were low. It was a gamble. A good knight often gambled. I had my sword above my shield. The spear rasped along my sword and slid harmlessly over my mail mitt. I did not move my sword and it drove into the cheek and then the skull of the Breton man at arms. The man behind could do nothing for the dying men fell backwards into him. There was no third rank providing support. He fell to the ground and I pinioned him there with my sword.

  We had broken their wall and I shouted, “Break wedge! Mêlée!” Every man would now fight by himself. I turned to the Breton on my left. It was a knight. He looked surprised to see me there. I swung my sword around hard and it smashed into the shield he hurriedly brought around to face me. He reeled and I stepped forward, punching with my shield as I went. He was off balance and he had to take two rapid steps backwards. I swung again, this time at his head. His arms were flailing and my sword connected. Had he not been falling backwards then he would have died. As it was he was rendered unconscious. I saw that Padraig and James were close by, watching my back as were Dick and my archers. “Padraig, guard this prisoner.”

  The line of Bretons had been demolished. Some knights had surrendered. The men at arms were dead, wounded or had fled back to the keep. I did not have enough men to take the keep but the gate, where King Henry and the rest of our men battled was a different proposition. “Sir Robert, have the fyrd come and secure this gate. Padraig, you command. We will take the gate.”

  Sir Robert sent his squire and he joined me. His surcoat was besmeared and bespattered with blood. “Did you think it would be this easy?” Dick and his archers loped through the gate.

  “In truth? No. Dick, go ahead and clear the walls. We will take the gatehouse.”

  “Aye lord, archers, follow me.”

  We held our shields up to protect ourselves from the crossbows in the keep. It was more than a hundred paces from us and there were only a couple facing us but they could still kill or wound. I smiled as two bolts smashed into my shield. I was drawing the bolts. Sir Robert said, “I do not think they like you, Earl.”

  “They can send bolts at me all day for that way my men will be safer.”

  The gatehouse had been well built. The one we had taken had yet to be improved. This one was made of stone and had a double gate. I spied a staircase leading to the fighting platform. The fire had yet to reach this part of the castle for the wind was blowing in the wrong direction. I spied two dead Bretons with axes.

  “Günter and Arne, pick up those axes. Take them with us up the stairs. Sir Robert see if you can break down this gate with your knights and men at arms. I will take my men to the walkway. There is a gate there which might yield.” There was a double gate. The men inside had barred themselves in. They had become, in effect a small keep.

  James hurried behind me as I followed Arne and Günter. The last of the defenders plummeted from the walls as Dick and his men cleared them. I heard him shout, “Archers, let us clear the crossbows from the keep!”

  As we peered over the parapet I saw that King Henry and his men had a ram and they were using it to try to break down the gate. The fighting platform had bodies littering it. The barred door into the gatehouse would only admit one man at a time. “Break down the door and then step aside. Roger of Bath you and I will enter.”

  “Let me take another with me lord. Why risk you?”

  “Because, Roger of Bath, the day that I cannot lead is the day that I go back to Stockton and become a codger for my grandson’s hawks!”

  The two men worked well together as they swung their axes and hacked through the wood of the door. They both had a good eye for such things and struck within a finger’s breadth of each other. Slivers of wood flew from the gate. Suddenly I saw that there was a hole. “Two more blows and then we enter.” They both used every ounce of their strength and a large section of the door fell inwards. They stepped aside and, holding my shield before me and with Roger of Bath’s in my back, I hit the door. The last strike had done the damage and it burst asunder.

  The men inside were ready and a spear was rammed at my shield. It was the wrong weapon to use in the confined space of a turret. I brushed it aside and drove my sword up under the arm of the man at arms. My blade came out of his neck. Arne and Günter had burst in with their axes. They did fearful damage and soon the dark turret was filled with the cries of, “Quarter!”

  I pushed aside the two men who had just surrendered and headed for the staircase leading down to the main gate. I could hear the monotonous crash of the ram on the gate. The men at the gate were blissfully unaware that we had taken the upper gatehouse and were busy bracing the gate with timbers when we burst among them. While James and Harry Lightfoot opened the inner gate to admit Sir Robert and his men the rest of us attacked the men bracing the gate. Two died before the kni
ght there shouted, “Quarter, we yield!”

  Peter Strong Arm and John of Norton removed the braces and unbarred the gate. Light suddenly flooded in as both gates were opened. Richard D’Avranches, his helmet with a dent in it, stood there. “Thank you, Earl! It was tiresome out there!”

  “They have retired to the donjon. My archers are there.”

  “Come men, let us complete the work begun by the Earl Marshal.”

  His household knights poured through. King Henry appeared after them. He clasped my arm, “Thank you Earl. I give you a task to hold a gate and you capture a castle. I owe you much!”

  He disappeared inside and I took off my helmet. “James, see if you can find some water or even better beer! I have a thirst on me!”

  I led my men into the outer bailey. There Sir Robert and his men were tending the wounds of those who had been wounded in the attack. As James handed me an ale skin I heard a horn sound. I looked and saw that King Henry had taken off his helmet. He stood next to two squires. One held his standard and the other the horn. The King shouted to those in the keep, “Robert De Pontorson, we have you surrounded. There is no help coming and I call upon you to surrender the castle to me and to accept my judgement on those who opposed me!”

  His words were greeted by silence. After a pause King Henry pointed to the fire still burning, unchecked, along the south wall. “You have seen how cunningly we use fire. Would you wish the same fate for those in your keep?”

  Finally, a voice shouted, “We have women and children within!”

  “Then all the more reason to accept my terms!”

  There was another pause and then the Baron shouted down, “We accept your terms. We yield!”

  We had won and the first part of the campaign was over.

  Chapter 6

  As with the other rebels, those who did not swear allegiance received draconian justice. They were stripped of armour, weapons and horses and ejected from the castle. This time the King was quite happy for them to head to Rennes. In fact, it suited his purposes for he wanted the Count to come and try to retake the castle. More than half of the knights swore allegiance. One of the ones who did not so swear provided Tom the Badger with his mail. All of my men were now mailed. We had spare horses and coins in our purses.