Authors: Martin Archer
Tags: #Historical Fiction
A great mass of men is standing on the other side of the river watching us. They must think they are far enough away to be out of arrow range; but they’re not. They’ve obviously never faced longbows before.
For a moment I consider ordering our stronger archers to shoot at them. But I decide against it – we’d only get a few before they’d all back up to get out of range. Besides, if they don’t know how far we can shoot we may be able to surprise them when we have all of our archers and can cull many more.
“Rolph, take Giles and some of the men and go down to the river. Accept the surrenders of any who are faking or lightly wounded. Bring them up here to us. But leave those who are seriously wounded for their friends to care for and feed. Kill anyone who tries to run or fight.”
But then I have a thought.
“Rolph, when you are down next to the river checking the wounded I want you and Giles to shoot a couple of arrows towards that lot up there watching us. Use ‘longs” and deliberately shoot so your arrows fall at least one hundred paces short of the men standing over there.”
Rolph gives me a surprised look when he hears my order; so I explain with a smile and nod.
“I know you and Giles and the others have the strength to reach them from down there. But I don’t want them knowing how strong you are. To the contrary, I want you to gull them so they think they’re safely out of range.”
“If we’re lucky, perhaps the next time we meet, when we have all our archers, they’ll form up too close and we’ll get a good cull - so shoot a couple of longs so they fall well short; about one hundred paces if you can manage it.”
Ah. Rolph understands. I can tell from his knowing smile and nod. Rolph’s got a good head, doesn’t he?
An hour later and Peter and I are questioning our prisoners and some of our men are being given new assignments. My plan is to return to Restormel and for most of our archers, including all of our riders and their horses, to stay and hold the ford for as long as possible with Peter as their sergeant and Giles as his second.
The men who remain with Peter and Giles will watch over the ford and range up and down this side of the river on horseback to report on Cornell’s next effort to cross. Rolph will ride back with me to Restormel after I finish questioning the prisoners and decide what to do with them.
We’ll take two of the wagons with us and a dozen archers to guard the prisoners. The rest will stay here to guard the ford.
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The prisoners are very much what I expected – a few are villeins of Cornell and his relatives, farm serfs with little or no training or experience of any kind; a few others are Kerfuffle’s mercenaries who were just starting to cross when the fighting commenced; and the rest are churls, free men who have attached themselves to Cornell and his supporters as tenants and servants. All the churls brought weapons across the river, mostly swords, and several have extensive experience fighting in France.
Only one of our prisoners is a knight. He’s young and I think I recognize him despite his bedraggled and muddy appearance; he’s the first rider who crossed the river riding his horse. He took an arrow in the leg when he was running down the riverbank and then failed at playing dead.
He’s one of Cornell’s knights and obviously a brave and ambitious young man seeking recognition – and therefore quite likely to die before his time and potentially dangerous.
“I saw you ride across the river and I’m impressed at your skill and courage. Please tell me how you came to be in the service of Lord Cornell?”
My flattery and the offer of a loaf of bread are successful. The man’s name is Francis. His long dead father was a knight with the honor of a small manor near Calais. His family placed him as a page in Hathersage castle sometime before Henry died and Richard took the crown.
Francis only recently won his spurs. His only experience other than a couple of tournaments was in one of Richard’s battles against the Capetian dukes in France last year. At the time he was serving as a squire for one of Cornell’s knights. Cornell took them both to France when he went over to join Richard
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This one’s very dangerous. If he gives his parole I’ll send him to Launceston; if he doesn’t he’ll have to help the churchmen with their prayers in Restormel’s cells until I can exchange him or Cornell ransoms him. But if I do that he’ll know about them and their fate.
Chapter Ten
In a few minutes some of my men and I are going to set off for Restormel with our prisoners and the wagons. We’ll walk all night so we can get there before the sun goes down tomorrow.
I could take them all to Launceston Castle, but I won’t – I don’t want so many prisoners in the castle helping to eat up its siege stores.
Peter and the rest of our men, those with horses to ride, will remain behind to patrol the river and watch for Cornell and the invaders. They’ll base themselves in Launceston Castle and carry all the arrows and supplies they can carry as they range up and down the river on horseback in groups of two or three men.
I’m only leaving behind the men with horses to ride. It’s too dangerous to leave the others – sooner or later Cornell will get his horsemen across and be able to ride down any of our men who are on foot.
It will be interesting to see how and where Cornell tries to come across and get a foothold on this side of the river now that he knows we have archers but doesn’t know how many.
“How do you think they’ll come, Peter?”
“They’ve still got the ropes and the river’s going down so they may try to swim a few men across here or elsewhere; get them into defensive positions to hold the crossing while others come over. Our patrols will carry extra arrows and be able stop them with our longbows, of course, if we come across them before too many get across.”
Peter pauses for a moment and thinks about my question.
“But that’s not what I think will happen,” he finally says.
“I think his mounted men will all swim across the river at the same time at some open area where they can see we are not on the other bank. Once they get across and establish themselves they’ll use the ropes to bring the others over. Then they’ll march on the ford and hold it while their wagons come across.”
He’s right.
Of course he is.
“I think you’re right,” I tell him. “And I think Cornell will do it quickly – both because he’s got his wounded men to rescue at the ford and because he is likely to know that we don’t have enough horses to leave many archers along the river.”
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Before we leave I parade the prisoners and tell them that we are decent men and will not enslave or hurt them if they behave during the trip to Restormel - but if they attempt to escape they will be hunted down as outlaws and hung.
My plan is for the prisoners to walk during daylight hours while my men ride in the wagons; then have them ride in the wagons with their feet and hands tied when it’s dark and my men are walking around them.
Francis is another matter entirely. I tell him my terms in front of the other prisoners - if he will give me his parole as an honorable knight not to take up arms ever again in Cornwall I will free him without requiring a ransom immediately after the war is over
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Of course I ask for his parole in front of all the other prisoners; so everyone at his Hathersage Castle home will know he gave his word and he’ll be disgraced as a knight if he doesn’t keep it.
What I don’t do is tell Francis what will happen if he does not give his word. He’ll be in the Restormel cells where he will undoubtedly find out about the clerics who have disappeared and are not likely to be seen again. So if he doesn’t give his knightly word he’ll either have to be sent to permanently disappear in one of the cells in Launceston’s dungeon or taken to our ships at the mouth of the River Fowey and chained to a rowing bench until he can pull an oar on our next galley bound for Cyprus.
My concerns about Francis come to nowt. I’m relieved when Francis swears his parole in front of the other prisoners. He seems like a nice young man so I’ll take him and our other prisoners to our camp near Restormel.
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Our return trip is tiring but uneventful. We reach Restormel in time for me to enjoy a meal with Helen and George and the rest of Thomas’s boys. Before I sit down with them I send the wagons and what’s left of our prisoners on to our main camp about three miles to the west.
None of our prisoners ran during the day when they were walking, probably for fear that our archers would see them run and put an arrow in them. Last night in the dark, however, four of them somehow jumped out of the moving wagons and bolted off into the darkness together.
It really doesn’t matter. They’re not likely to be much help to Cornell even if they avoid starving to death long enough to rejoin him.
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My return to Restormel is joyous with great hugs and kisses for everyone, excited reports from George and the boys about their studies and catching fish in the river, and Helen rushing to bring me warm clothes and a bowl of ale.
We all eat a delicious hot soup of onion and cheese in a hollowed out bread loaf and listen as George and the excited boys tell us about their studies. I listen patiently while they chant their sums together in unison, chatter with each other and me in Latin, and show me the words they are learning to write on their slates.
Helen just sits with us at the table in front of the fireplace and listens until Angelo Priestly leads the boys up the stairs to bed and the great hall finally goes quiet.
We sit alone in front of the great fire without speaking until the talking in the sleeping room above us quiets. Then she comes around the table to where I’m sitting, lifts her gown and straddles me right there in front of the fireplace.
Afterwards she takes me by the hand and leads me upstairs in the darkness to our little corner and undresses me.
“I’ll be right back, don’t go away,” she whispers into my ear.
I can sense her moving away in the darkness and then I can hear her going down the stone stairs to the great hall. A few minutes later she comes back up the stairs, pulls the sleeping skins off our bed, and has me to lie on its leather strings while she rubs me all over with a warm wet rag. Afterwards she puts all the skins back on the bed and has me burrow in with her while she gives me a wonderful stroking all over my body.
We stayed awake half the night touching and enjoying each other - and I sleep late the next morning until she gently shakes me awake and hands me a wooden spoon and a bowl of warm gruel with some kind of raw egg beaten into it “to keep your strength up.”
I was able to eat about half of it before I had to get up to pee.
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It is at least an hour after the sun comes up before I pull on my clothes and walk down the narrow staircase to the great hall – and find Henry and a dozen or so of my senior sergeants waiting to talk. Even Harold is here from the sailors’ camp. They are obviously anxious for news and want someone to tell them what to do.
After we shake hands and joke a bit the sergeants sit on the benches running along the table and listen as I stand at the end of the table and bring them up to date. My description of the little battle at the River Tamar ford and the success of our archers gets their fierce approval.
They’re all archers except Harold so it would, wouldn’t it?
“We don’t have any idea who was standing around their horses on the other side but one thing is damn certain – most of them aren’t standing now and never will.”
We talk of many things and I go out of my way to make sure everyone understands how well Peter and our archers performed. The men in our companies, they all agree, are trained and ready for Cornell. What they ask about, and I can’t tell them because I don’t know myself, is how Thomas is doing with the mercenaries he seems to have hired.
There has been no further word from Thomas since Simon’s galley arrived more than a week ago – all we know is that he has signed a contract for a company of Scottish mercenaries and is off to meet them and lead them in an attack against Cornell’s Hathersage Castle - and a siege if they don’t take it immediately.
Our hope, of course, is that the fighting at Hathersage will prevent reinforcements from being sent to Cornell here in Cornwall; at the very best, of course, the attack will so worry Cornell that he’ll return to relieve Hathersage.
Chapter Eleven
Hathersage Castle comes into view late in our third day of marching. It’s taken us longer than I would have thought because Leslie’s entire clan is marching with all of its men, women, and children.
Hmm. That gives me an idea.