The Princes' Revolt Read online

  “Cowardly trickster!”

  As he shouted and raised his axe I spun around and brought my sword into his right side. It bit through to his ribs. As I pulled out the blade he crumpled in a heap.

  Looking around for my next opponent I heard the thunder of hooves. Sir John was leading the knights of Durham into the camp. Although the Scots were being attacked by horses we still had many men left in the camp who were trying to use their numbers to overwhelm us. I saw that Lord Balliol had managed to mount the remainder of his knights and they rode to meet with Sir John. I heard a roar from my right and Wilfred led my men at arms up the road and into the camp. We had the opportunity to capture the camp and attack Lord Balliol and his mounted knights.

  “Cleveland! To me!”

  My knights and men at arms joined me as my archers formed a line behind us and started to shower arrows in a more organised way. Once they had cleared the ground before us I shouted, “Wedge!” This time I was flanked by Sir Harold and Sir Tristan. The rest of my men spread out behind us. “We run!”

  I began to run. I knew that it would be harder for those behind but most had fought together for more than ten years. Our archers worked in pairs. One released while the other ran after us. Although it slowed down the number of arrows we sent it kept up the same rate of missiles. No one could stand before us. The odd man who survived the arrow storm was easily despatched. From ahead I heard the clash as the two bodies of knights met. It was the sound of neighing horses, screams, metal on wood, wood on metal and the screams of men impaled upon spears. I saw, ahead, the rear of the Scottish line.

  Raising my sword, I shouted, “For God, King Henry and the Warlord!” I led my wedge of fifty men into the rear of the Scottish line.

  The knights at the rear tried to turn their horses. That was never easy when in a line which was engaged. We had no time for chivalrous strokes and gentlemanly cuts. They were above us and had spears. I swung my sword sideways and hacked through the leg of the first Scot who turned. His spear struck my helmet as the leg was severed and he fell from his horse. My blade must have cut the horse for it reared. This was now a mêlée. Scots raised their spears to strike down at us and my men thrust upwards with their swords. The advantage we held was that we could attack the side without the shield and we could use our own shield for protection. I saw that Wilfred had put his shield over his back and he dragged a knight from his horse and skewered him as he lay on the ground.

  We worked our way through the knights. Those at the front who were engaged with Sir John and his men could not turn. I spied Lord Balliol and his squire. Suddenly, as Samuel slew one knight who was close to the Scottish standard, Ralph leapt on to the body and into the saddle. He spurred the horse and hacked into the side of the standard bearer. Balliol’s squire tried to retrieve it but an arrow struck him in the head and he fell.

  Ralph held on to the standard and shouted, “Yield, Lord Balliol! I have the standard!”

  The Scottish lord looked around and spied me. He pointed his sword at me, “Trickster! I thought you led the charge!”

  Just then an arrow flew and struck him in the right arm. He dropped the sword.

  “Do you do as Sir Ralph demanded and yield, or will you and your men be butchered?”

  He looked around, the blood dripping from the wound. He nodded, “We yield!”

  I looked up at Sir Ralph who still held the standard, “And there is something to hang over the fire when you and my daughter have your own castle!”

  Part Two

  The Warlord

  Chapter 4

  My son had been more successful in Scotland than I had been in Wales. Perhaps I was getting too old for war or maybe the Welsh were just too cunning. Certainly, their mountains were no place for horses. It had taken us until Christmas to subdue them and to make a peace which would last. The reparations I had demanded were high but it was the hostages I escorted back to London which would ensure that they kept the peace. As Prince Richard and I rode back to London along the road the Romans had used to subdue the druids I used the time to speak at length to the young prince. His father had asked me to help mould the king. I liked him for he was courageous to the point of recklessness but he was also willing to learn. I did not know how his elder brother would be as king but Richard struck me as having the potential to be a king whom men would follow.

  “What your father needs to do is to build castles at the mouth of the Clwyd and then guarding the Menaii straits. Without the wheat from Anglesey the Welsh would starve.”

  He nodded, “They are wild warriors. That is a good idea. The castles would contain them. I would war against other knights.”

  “You do not choose your enemies. They choose you. You must fight all of them no matter how mean or lowly.”

  “And what of Thomas Becket? He is our enemy. Why does my father not have him killed?”

  I laughed and shook my head, “Your father is already in dispute with the Pope. He cannot appoint bishops. I am not even certain he can have your brother crowned. The church in Rome can be like a nest of vipers. It is best to leave it alone.”

  “But my father is a good man. He even gives my brother the crown. Surely that must stand in his favour.”

  “It is good that you think this way. There have often been rebellious sons but a king’s deeds and the reputation he has are two entirely different matters.”

  “My father has more power than the Pope.”

  “The Pope may rule a tiny city in Italy but every monarch and ruler in the west must accept his judgement. A king has to be anointed. The priest who does that also serves the Pope. There are some enemies you can fight and others you cannot.”

  We rode in silence for I had much to think on and my words had set in motion thoughts in Richard’s head; he was clever. The hostages would be placed in the White Tower. The King did not use that as his home. He preferred Windsor. My share of the treasure we had taken was already on its way north under the care of Wilson of Bristol and his men at arms. I hoped that the speedy handover of the hostages would allow me to return to my family. The marriages of Samuel and Eleanor as well as Ruth and Ralph of Barnard would take place in April I wished to be there for that ceremony. I had missed my son’s wedding. I would not miss my grandchildren’s. The King had been successful in Normandy and he would be in London. It would be the perfect opportunity to ask for me to be released, at least for a while.

  Prince Richard noticed my silence. “Your son did well in Scotland. In two battles he defeated the Scots. It took us longer to defeat the Welsh.”

  I was not certain if he was criticising me or praising my son. “My son led the finest knights, men at arms and archers in the land. We fought with an army cobbled together from many places. We know the land along the border with Scotland well. We have fought there many times. It is more forgiving than the Welsh land and we have good castles there but you are right. He did do well.”

  “And your grandson gained great honour.”

  The rider who had brought the letter from my son had been Davy of Ingleby. He had been at the battles, both of them, and he had recounted in every detail the two actions which made the names of Ralph and Samuel. The letter, penned by my son, gave details of the aftermath to which Davy of Ingleby was not privy. The knights of Durham who had fled had been found and tried. The Bishop of Durham could not defend them and they and their families were banished from the Palatinate. I know that my son favoured a more draconian punishment, death, but the Bishop was lenient. I had no idea where they would go but it would not be in the north. My son had ensured the newly appointed lords of the manor were more acceptable to the valley. The coin which had been collected in ransoms and reparations was divided equally. Barnard Castle would be improved and other monies were given to my knights to strengthen their homes. When Ralph and Samuel were given manors then they would have the coin to make them strong and to furnish them as their wives would wish. I had ideas along those lines for King Henry. I would use my posit
ion to influence him.

  I spoke to Richard of war. He was fascinated by my experiences and asked me about the battles I had fought to secure the crown for his father. When he discovered that William had been on crusade he was desperate to speak with him.

  “Now there is a true enemy of Christendom. The followers of that blasphemous religion need to be wiped from the face of the earth so that Christ’s home can belong to his people once more.”

  He had an idealistic view. It was an impractical one. “There are many thousands of them, you know. Even if we emptied all the lands of Europe of men to fight them they would still have many more men than we would.”

  He laughed, “Aye but they are savages and we are nobles.” He pointed at the two men at arms and four archers who rode ahead of us. “Even those who are just ordinary warriors have more nobility than the highest born Turk!”

  I did not think my son would agree but I would let William win that argument. “Before that day you must be knighted.”

  He looked at me, “Then you shall knight me.”

  “That cannot be. You are a prince. A king must knight you. Your own father was the only one who could knight young Prince Henry of Scotland before he was crowned King of Scotland. It will be your father’s decision and you will have to wait until your brother, Henry wins his spurs.”

  “So he will get a crown and his spurs first and I will have nothing!” His petulance returned.

  “That is the lot of the second son. You must learn patience.”

  “Is that why my father sent me with you, Earl Marshal; so that I may learn patience?”

  “If he did then I have failed for you recklessly charged those Welshmen at Denbigh.”

  “They had no mail and I did. More importantly, Earl Marshal, they had no skill and I did. When I begin to fight in the tourney my brother had best watch out for I will be the greatest knight in Christendom.”

  “You cannot say that about yourself, Prince Richard. Others can but not you. A knight does not boast of his deeds. A knight’s deeds do the boasting.” When I spoke that day he was but thirteen summers’ old. I saw him reflect on the words. He did not remain the same reflective youth as he became a man but that, I believe was the fault of others. The ride to London would be the last time that he would be in my charge.

  King Henry was out hunting when we reached Windsor. We had royal guards and household knights to escort our hostages to the Tower where they would be housed. I was just grateful that I would have a comfortable bed that night and, hopefully, a bath.

  Queen Eleanor came to greet me. Despite being over forty years of age, she was still a stunning woman. She came and kissed me on the cheek and linked my arm. Richard had disappeared as soon as we had entered the castle. “And how is my rumbustious son?”

  I smiled, “He is wilder than his father was at the same age but he has a good heart and he is fearless.”

  “You will look after him. I am pleased that my husband chose you. I think he has chosen well for Henry too. William Marshal is a younger version of you.”

  “And how are you, my lady? You look as beautiful as ever.”

  “And you know how to flatter. That is disingenuous of me. You never flatter and always speak the truth. It is one of the many things I love about you. And so I thank you for your words. I confess it took me some time to recover from the birth of John. I had a difficult time.” She waved a hand, “But you do not need to know that. He will be my last child.” She led me to a small table with two chairs. “Henry has done much work here. You must have noticed the King’s Gate as you came in?”

  “I nodded, “It is a substantial gate and adds to the defence!”

  She shook her head. “You knights and your preoccupation with defence! I want a home which is comfortable. The walls were crumbling! This is much more pleasant. I like to sit here for the light comes through the glass and yet it is away from the draughts. We do not have such draughts in Aquitaine. Chinon and Mirebeau are much cosier.”

  “Will you return there soon?”

  “Perhaps. Henry is busy organizing the coronation. Archbishop Becket is a nuisance. He lives in France and yet his actions determine what we should do! I wish we were rid of him!”

  “When is the coronation planned?”

  “June. We have a few more months to wait. Once he is crowned then we can go back to Aquitaine. Henry can campaign in Normandy but I wish for warmth and the sun.”

  “You would be alone?”

  She looked at me, “Alfraed, you of all people know my husband. His bastard, Geoffrey, is evidence of his liaison with that whore, Ykenai and I hear that he is casting his eyes over Ida de Tosny. I hope he keeps his secrets safer from his enemies than he does from me!” She patted my hand. “So long as I have Aquitaine then I am happy. I have done my duty and born him three sons who live. I have delivered my part of the bargain. His part is to keep my land safe from the greedy, grasping fingers of the French.”

  Henry’s liaisons were not widely known but he could not hide the baby he had given the same name as the legitimate son his wife had borne him. I knew then that I had been lucky. Adela would never have spoken like that and my one indiscretion with Henry’s mother had been just that; a brief moment of passion and then a lifetime of yearning.

  I said nothing and the Queen must have thought she had said too much. “And how are your grandchildren? Their lives will be a little more normal than that of my children.”

  “I hope so for they live in a quiet backwater. They are both to be married in April.”

  She leaned over to kiss my cheek. “That is wonderful news. You must be so excited! They say that April weddings always last.”

  “Do they?”

  “In Gascony they do. April? Then you will be able to be in London for the coronation. Your knights will need to swear allegiance to young Henry.”

  “My lady, I can ask you. Why the haste? With Becket causing problems and trouble on the borders it might make more sense to wait to crown young Henry. He is but fifteen.”

  “My husband and I disagree about many things but this is not one of them. This strengthens my husband’s hand. He can concentrate on Normandy, Anjou and the Vexin. William Marshal is a good man, is he not?”

  “He is but…”

  “My husband was not much older when he was named King. He has not done a poor job has he?”

  I sighed. She was right but something about it felt wrong. “You are right. It is just that I see no reason to do this now. I suspect I am tired and I would like to spend more time with my family.”

  “And you shall. When Henry returns I shall tell him.” I wondered how the King would take that. She recognised my look and she smiled. “I am the dutiful wife and queen in most things but when I give a command then it is obeyed. This is one command he will accede to. He owes you much. He owes me more.”

  I had always known her to be a strong woman. I had met her first when she was a child and she had impressed me then. I felt more hopeful about the prospect of returning home. I took my leave and went to my room where Simon, my squire, helped me to change. He was in awe of the castle although, in truth, I found it draughty and rather shoddily built. King Henry’s improvements would make it a palace one day but that day was not yet. Simon had impressed me on campaign. He had not been called upon to fight but he had been there ready to help in any way that he could. He was diligent when it came to my weapons and mail. When we returned to the valley he would be able to practise those knightly skills which he would need.

  I heard the King return. It was a noisy affair. He and his son were reunited and I knew that they would be discussing the campaign. I did not wish to intrude and so I took a short nap. I found it helped me to sleep better at night if I was able to sleep during the day. The Welsh campaign had robbed me of much sleep. When Simon and I descended for the feast to celebrate Prince Richard’s return we were greeted warmly by both the King and Prince Richard. The other two princes were a little less effusive. In Geoffrey�
��s case it was his sullen nature. He rarely spoke to anyone but with young Henry it was because he did not like me. I could not get to the bottom of the obvious dislike he felt. His eyes seemed to glare at me whenever I was in the room. I recognised one of the knights with the princes. He was Roger Le Breton. He had been a close friend of King Henry’s young brother William who had died, some said, of a broken heart when Thomas Becket refused to allow him to marry his true love. When I saw the liveries of the other three I recognised them then. They were also household knights of the now deceased Duke William: Sir Reginald Fitzurse, Sir Hugh de Morville, and Sir William de Tracy

  “Warlord, I need to speak with you,” King Henry looked pointedly at his sons, “alone.” He led me to a small antechamber. There was a sentry there waiting. “See that we are not disturbed.”

  “Aye Your Majesty.”

  Once alone he seemed to visibly relax. We were comfortable in each other’s company. “First of all, I wish to thank you and your son. I hoped that the two of you would do that which others said was impossible and defeat the two threats to our borders. That you did so quickly astounded even me.”

  “We are both here to serve the realm.”

  “And you both serve me very well. I have things to say which you need to hear. They are for your ears only. There are few men in my lands that I can trust. You are one.”

  “You are too kind.”

  “I speak plainly. I have just come from Montmirail. I have a truce with the King of France.” he waved a hand. “It will not last, of course but it buys me time. I need time to build alliances and for my sons to be able to manage their lands. Henry must be crowned. You will call in at York on the way to Stockton. I have letters for Archbishop of York, Roger de Pont L'Évêque.”

  “Of course.”

  “When you and your knights return south for the coronation then you will escort him. Since Becket fled then Roger is one of the few churchmen that I can trust. I have two other bishops who will also attend. Then we need Geoffrey to be married. Constance is too young and I need Brittany watched. That is a task for you.”