Games of Otterburn 1388 (16 page)

“Must know them,” said George.

“Keeps his plans tight to himself,” remarked John.

“He told us,” replied George twisting on his saddle.

“What?” came back
John.

“Here’s where we’re to meet the ones who are to take the plunder back to Otterburn is what he said,” barked George.

“What’re we fixed to do then?” asked John.

“Don’t know,” was his unsatisfying answer.

While on the far side of the river James Douglas was talking to Sir John Swinton. His squire James stood his horse close to his liege.

“Ye have troubles
gettin
’ here?” he asked.

“
Nae
trouble, Milord,” said Swinton. “Saw plenty a spy… that’s only.”

“They’re from
Newcastle
I reckon. ‘
Tain’t
far from here,” said
Douglas
.

“I ken where it is, Milord,” said the knight resolutely.

“Ye come by way of Otterburn?” asked
Douglas
.

“As ye said for us to do, Milord,” answered John.

“How long will it take for ye to take a good sized herd of kine with sheep, pigs and such back to there?” asked Douglas.

Swinton thought.

Douglas
looked back to his portion of the army waiting across the water.

“How much ye got?” asked the knight not wanting to give the earl a poor answer.

“
A’plenty
we have,” answered
Douglas
well aware he was badly describing the quantity of his gathered and diverse herd. “Some might get washed away
comin
’ across that water.”

“At least two and maybe three days,” came the answer at last.

“
A’right
. Ye take the herd and we’ll meet
ye
in Otterburn in three days,” said
Douglas
.

“What if we’re set upon by English?” asked Swinton.

“If my plan works, ye’ll not be set upon by any to speak of,” said
Douglas
. “And ye’ll be
meetin
’ Ramsey’s contingent in Otterburn.”

“Swinton smiled. He waved a signal and the close tree line became alive with four hundred man-at-arms and lads all sallying forth on three hundred horsebacks.

Douglas
rode to the edge of the river and waved to Earl George.

“Reckon we can take them across now,” said George.

“Got a notion as to how?” asked his brother.

“Some,” he replied.

George lined his men up across the east side of the river and sent the kine across. Their four foot height made it tough to walk the bottom as a horse would do but their lighter weight allowed them to more easily swim.

Within most of an hour the cattle were on the north side of the water.

The remaining animals were too small to run across in the same manner so the spearmen and archers were next and as each came to the edge of the water were handed either an animal to be put across the withers of their horse or one large enough to be tethered and reluctantly dragged across by its horns or front quarters. Gold, silver and the like was brought across in a like manner in leather pouches. The hostages were cut loose and allowed to swim as they could while they were over-watched by some of the archers ready to shoot any who tried to escape. Mungan and Adara came across alone for fear two on the back of one horse might be too much.

By and by the whole of the reiving party including their plunder was on the north side.

“Still
sayin
’ three days?” asked
Douglas
coming to Swinton.

“Reckon we can,” answered Swinton with a smile.

His squire, James, was licking his chops already at the presumption of travel food.

James Douglas saw the eagerness in the lad and ordered, “
Nae
meat ‘til ye get to Otterburn.” He then turned to Earl John and said, “Pick us six bovine and three fat pigs to go our way.”

“Aye, Milord,” he said and went pleasantly about his orders knowing there was another good meal in store for the men… and one woman.

Soon the grand plunder was heading toward Otterburn and Douglas and the
Dunbar
brothers with their knights and men-at-arms turned east toward
Newcastle-upon-Tyne
at a leisurely pace.

August 16 - Early Morning

Castle
Carlisle

The winding wheel of the portcullis was worked one chain-link at a time so as not to alarm anyone within or without of the castle walls. Soon the grille work gate was raised high enough for a rider and his mount to easily traverse and the brake pin was inserted.

“Are you ready?” asked Lord Ralph Neville sitting in the great hall of the massive keep, across the trestle table from Sir Thomas Easley, his warden of the garrison.

“Am, Milord,” answered Easley. “Today those devilish Scotch are ‘bout to get their up
comin’s
… I swear on my honor.”

“I fear ‘twill be
our
honor if you fail,” said old Neville leaning close to his warden and gritting his teeth while talking in low tones, so others in their immediate vicinity could not hear.

“I will not fail you, Milord,” insisted Easley.

“If you do,”
said
Neville still hunched close to Easley’s face, “you’re obliged to fall on your own sword for I will never want to see you alive again…
do you understand?”

Thomas Easley swallowed hard. “I will not fail to defeat them!” he pressed and within his own being, gathered the courage into his spine to kill every Scot holding them prisoner within the castle walls.

“I’m
riskin
’ a lot of credibility with the king and the Lords Appellate on this gambit of yours. I don’t want anything to go wrong,” reiterated Neville.

“Nor do I, Milord,” came back Thomas throwing his head back as if there was an affront to his good name. “When I
do
bring you honor
I would hope you would remember me fondly to the king… and the lords if they should still have the king under their sway.”

Lord Neville smiled and Sir Thomas knew they were in complete agreement as to each others aspiring ambitions.

Outside it was still as black as obsidian and only the occasional torch ensconced on the low portion of the inner curtain wall provided the least glimmer of light within the already active bailey outside of the garrison barracks.

The wall guards staring outward focused intently on the myriad of small fires scattered on the darkened landscape indicating the Scots under the command of Earl Archibald Douglas were still holding Castle Carlisle under siege.

In front of one of those campfires laid a mostly picked over carcass of a small beef that had been plundered from a nearby croft. Its upstanding rib cage flickered white bone and red meat flecks in the sparkling light of the fire.

On the far side of the fire was Archibald sitting on a rock with his trews around his thighs close to his knees and rubbing a soothing greasy salve betwixt his legs.

John Montgomery emerged out of the darkened trees and sat the stone across the fire from the man. He parked his spear on his shoulder and bent his back low to his thighs to stretch his weary muscles.

John saw what Archibald was doing and so the earl felt at least a small obligation to explain.

“Saddle galled,” he said still applying the salve.

Montgomery
nodded he understood. “Get galled from time to time myself,” he admitted. “Pig grease, ye
usin
’?”

Farrier’s salve, it is… I get it from my farrier… uses it on horses, he does,” explained Archibald wiping the excess from his fingers onto the ground weeds at his feet.

Montgomery
nodded. “Not much
happenin
’ this night,” he opined with a long sigh.

Archibald stood and pulled his trews around his girth looping the belt to hold them up. “
Ye’re
right, hain’t much of a siege… but ‘
twern’t
suppose to be neither. No more than to keep the army penned inside so they couldn’t come for our raiders.”

“
Druther
fight in the open than lay about like this,” said John.

“I’m fixed to reive more when Robert Stewart gets back,” admitted Archibald, “Got a lot of revenge to pass out
here’bouts
for their
reivin
’ in
Galloway
durin
’ year past.”

The sky slowly began to lighten.

“Reckon they’ll be after us today any?” asked
Montgomery
thinking he would take a nap on the grassy spot near the big oak tree.

“Heard some bare faint
clankin
’ a while ago on the far end of the wall… but
nothin
’ of late,” replied Archibald as he stretched high up and yawned.

Montgomery
stood. “I’ll go down to that end and see if there’s any more such sounds,” said
Montgomery
as he walked away.

Archibald pulled his dagger from its sheath, reached over the fire and trimmed a bit of cold half-dried meat from a bone of the carcass. He chewed as he looked into the faint yellowish light of the new day contrasted with the dark ruddy stone work of the castle walls. He remembered his father telling him stories about when he and King Robert Bruce came to this castle even with several catapults and could not break the walls no matter how they tried.
How strange it is of me to stand this same ground some seventy and more years later without a slimmest hope of breaching the walls either and yet here I am wondering why, when I could be
gettin
’ rich off the whole of Cumberland,
he thought in earnest.
This is the plot of ambitions far beyond my own.