Games of Otterburn 1388 (13 page)

August 13 - Late Morning

The Bishopric of
Durham

The various sources of acrid smoke from the burning crofts of
Durham
mixed from blacks to whites became a muddled grey that matched the clouds overhead so that it appeared the whole world was engulfed in disaster.

Raiding across the borders in both directions was an activity long practiced. Much of the northern part of
England
was once considered the southern lands of
Scotland
which had been absorbed into the English nation due to the almost constant border wars of the past.

Earl James Douglas was moving his army northward through the countryside close to Hardbottle. Earl George was taking the westerly route in the same direction while his brother Earl John was sweeping the eastern side. They remained within sight of each other and kept their ever increasing menagerie of reived goods beside them to the middle.

The various farmers and merchants who had paid attention to the obvious signs of the Scots bound for
Durham
took what they could and fled. Those who stayed to fight were usually killed. The bishopric folks were accustomed to Scottish raids every few years or so and the people generally had a contingency plan to stay far afield from the raiders.

“We’re ‘bout to get more than we can drive,” said Earl George as he came aside
Douglas
.

“I’m
figurin
’ the same,” said
Douglas
as he turned in his saddle keeping an eye all around.
“Expected some from that garrison in
Durham
to be on us by now.”

“Me too… we have spies in every direction and none have reported any skirmishers,” replied George keeping his own eye on the fairly level landscape.

“We’ll go across the Wear after Hardbottle ere we get caught out here in the dark,” said
Douglas
.

“We
crossin
’ the
Tyne
tonight?” asked George.

“
Nae
.
We’ll not get anywhere near there for at least another day,” replied James.

“Good plunder this trip,” commented George.

“The hope is to keep it all the way to
Scotland
,” came back the reply.

It became a long day of reiving, and getting men, horses and plunder across the
Wear
River
was an added wearisome task in itself.

It was the last dregs of daylight as the Scottish warriors made camp hard to the western side of the river. Douglas had four bovine slaughtered and after placing pickets around the bivouacked area the men ate and slept better than they had since leaving Southdean Kirk and though it seemed like a lifetime had passed it had been a mere three days.

August 13 - Late Morning

Castle Brougham - West March

The men Earl Robert Stewart sent afield, including his own contingent, raided crofts and took livestock and prisoners for ransom further down the
Eden
Valley
.

They were in agreement to meet back at Castle Brougham with their spoils on the thirteenth day of August. Sir William Douglas and his contingent of some eight hundred and fifty men-at-arms and foot soldiers were left in charge of that castle and surrounds.

 
“Smell smoke?” said Robert Stewart of Durisdeer.

Earl Robert drew rein and sniffed. “
Comin
’ from up valley,” he opined.

Sir Robert agreed with a nod. “William’s
doin’s
, I reckon,” he said.

“Hope it hain’t the castle,” said Robert grimacing a bit.

“Best see what’s
goin
’ on ere ye weary,” said Durisdeer.

Nevertheless Earl Robert did worry as he trotted a bit forward of the main body up the valley toward Brougham.

Soon his concerns for the castle outweighed his concerns for his safety and he abruptly announced, “
Goin
’ ahead to see what’s
happenin
’. Ye stay with the plunder.”

“Aye, Milord,” responded Durisdeer, “Be aware.
Might be a trap.”

He acknowledged the warning, waved to his squire, who was riding a few feet behind him, and the pair rode faster toward the source of the smoke.

“‘Tis the castle
a’right
, Milord,” said the squire as they came within sight of Brougham.

The whole of the keep had fire shooting out of the top as if it were one huge chimney. The land and serf hovels were afire.

Back on a field of trampled onions sat three nicely upholstered heavy arm chairs with several Scottish knights there sitting horse and watching the burning.

Fly ash was falling all around.

The knights turned toward the sound of the two horses coming from behind. They wheeled to face the new comers when they recognized the man’s tabard of a red lion rampant over a
checky
bar on a field of yellow.

“
Greetin’s
, Milord,” said the knight who pushed himself to the front of the pack.

Robert nodded.

“Not
expectin
’ ye ‘til late tonight, Milord,” said the knight.

“Made better time than figured,” said Robert stopping his horse.
“That Lord William in the chair.

“‘Tis, Milord,” spoke the knight in a hushed tone of voice.

“How was he killed?” questioned Robert when he saw no movement from the back of the chair.”

“Hain’t dead, Milord,” relayed the knight. “Asleep, he is.”

Robert loudly growled, “Wake the bastard up!”

It was as Robert had intended, Sir William was awakened by his loud voice.

He turned in the chair to see who was so rude.

“Bastard yerself!” he growled as he got from his fancy chair and walked to Robert.
“Baseborn bastard at that!”

Both men suddenly broke into laughter.

The knights returned to watching the burning.

“I figured ye were just
goin
’ to keep the garrison penned here for the time,” said Robert pointing to the burning castle and fields.

“‘
Twas
… but,” started William. “We kilt the garrison.”

“Bored, were ye?”

“And I wondered what was inside that might be pretty,” added William.

“Ye know I got gold from
ol
’ Clifford to protect this castle?” asked Robert.

“Ne’er knew that,” bantered William. “
Givin
’ it back?” he smiled a bit already knowing the answer.

“I figured ye were just
goin
’ to raid around the area for livestock and folk to ransom,” said Robert.

“Did all that.”

“Where are ye
a’keepin
’ ‘
em
?”

“Yon wood where
there’s
lots of trees to tie things to,” he said pointing west a bit. “Where’s yer plunder?”

“Be here directly,” said Robert as he got from the saddle and plopped himself into one of the fine chairs.

“Ye save these for yerself?” asked Robert.

“Saved that one for
ye
, Milord,” he teased.

“And I saved that one for ye,” Robert back teased as he patted the close arm of the chair to test its softness.

William fell into the second chair and the men laughed again.

“Can’t help but think we got more booty than yer cousin James,” said Robert.

“Don’t know. East March is mighty rich,” said William not wanting to get the family squabble going again with Robert.

“I got three thousand in coin,” bragged Robert pushing back deep into the soft chair.

“But I burnt the castle,” remarked William.

“Just one out of four, did ye burn,” said Robert trying to rationalize why he was not going to give any money back to Roger de Clifford.

Meanwhile some twelve miles in a southerly direction at Castle Appleby, Clifford’s seneschal sent for his lord to join him at the ramparts of Caesar’s Tower.

“Look yon, Milord,” said the seneschal pointing northward when Clifford arrived at the ramparts.

Roger Clifford squinted into the smoky mist. “What’s afire?”

“‘
Ppears
to be Brougham,” he replied.

The old baron’s mouth dropped involuntarily. “Was not the protection of Brougham included in that payment?”

“‘
Twas
, Milord.”

“Reckon they burnt
Brough
, too?”

“No smoke from the south, Milord,” said the servant commander. “But on the other hand the breeze is headed in that direction.”

Roger Clifford screamed, “Those
lyin
’ goddamned Scotch bastards!!” so loudly that he was heard all the way to the bottom of the hill where subsequently two of Robert Stewart’s knights were outside the only building left standing in the town of black ashes.

“Ye got Earl Fife’s caltrops?”

“Thirty he wanted,” said the old blacksmith. “Thirty one or two is what I got sacked up for you.”

“And there’s the question of a lad,” said one knight.

“Lad’s gone with his ma,” lied the smith knowing from the beginning
Fife
’s intention.

“
Fife
wanted him to come along,” said the knight roughly. “Make caltrops in
Fife
, he wanted the lad to do.”