Read Games of Otterburn 1388 Online
Authors: Charles Randolph Bruce
Inside the gate tunnel one hundred and seventy-three knights sat their excited horses, biting bits and begging to be released to action. The men drew their bladed weapons with the simple kill or mutilate order well implanted in their heads.
Behind were another eighty men-at-arms on foot ready to do the follow-up work the knights were bound to initiate.
The longbow archers filtered along the wall opposite to where the Scots were camped. They nocked an arrow into their bowstrings and set two more added arrows along the wall in front of them for subsequent shots. They then sat on the wall walk with their backs against the wall waiting for the signal.
A half
dozen archers were positioned on top of the keep so they could launch their barbs deeper into the Scottish camp.
Lord Ralph Neville stood hunched among the archers. He looked at the warm wan eastern light and then on the killing field in front of him. The light was perfect for his devious purpose.
He motioned for the messenger to come forward who had been drilled on the one single procedural task he was to perform and so Neville had a one word order, “Now!”
The runner ran down the steps from the wall walk through the middle bailey and out through the far bailey to the booted toe of Sir Thomas Easley and looking up to the man’s face relaying the message, “Now.”
Easley tightened the grip on the reins in his gloved hand and with his other he held his sword high over his head giving the signal to his men to be ready. “Gate and bridge!” commanded Easley and the six men, poised to remove the bar, swing wide the gates and release the drawbridge across the wet moat, went into action.
In the quiet of the morning Sir Ralph heard the gates to the main tunnel open and the bridge slamming the far side of the moat with a loud report. He ordered his archers to go to work.
Death rained on the sleeping Scots as most of them slept. Two more volleys of arrow flights followed up with terrible
devistation
.
John Montgomery who had gone to that far end of the castle grounds to investigate heard the bridge hit the ground and when he also heard the sudden clattering of many horse hooves coming across the wooden bridge he began to cry out his warning to the top of his breath.
“English are upon us!! English are upon us!!”
Men with swords drawn came to rally at his side but the horsemen passed them by before they could be engaged.
They were headed for the more fertile and less prepared killing ground.
“There’s more
a’comin
’!” warned
Montgomery
as he saw the foot soldiers with spears following.
The dozen or so Scots gathered with
Montgomery
ran at the footmen screaming their war whoops across the field.
On orders, ten of the English men-at-arms foot stopped to confront the attacking Scots while the remainder continued along their original path.
Montgomery
was the first to hit the splinter contingent with all his might and leading with his buckler. His swift sword strokes on impact were unexpected and two immediately paid the price for their slow wit.
The other Scots slammed more of the English on foot who were better ready. One clipped the bare head of a man as he swung his spear pole in close quarters. The man went down flinging blood in the weeds.
Within a moment that was done.
Montgomery
had three of his men on the ground groaning but all of the English were down except the one who ran back toward the gate tunnel to hide in the grass.
The marauding English knights and esquires ran their horses through the thickest part of the sleeping Scots hacking and maiming with the constant indiscriminate swings of their swords from the saddle.
The cries of the unfortunate and confused sleepers were heavy and piteous in the air.
The galling of Archibald Douglas was the least of his worries when he realized his camp was under sneak attack. He could see men all across the camp coming alive but not fast enough to save their skins.
Archibald pulled his hunting horn from his side and blew as loud a blast as he could manage. Men’s heads were hoisting in every direction. The blast also drew the attention of an English knight and he took the earl to be an easy target. So as he rode by he leaned out of the saddle to take a swipe at the earl’s head.
Archibald saw him out of the corner of his eye and instead of jumping back he went low and lunged forward. The gamble paid off as the large frame of the man hit the horse then when he came up the knight was flying pell-mell off his saddle with a surprised look on his face that instantly left when he hit the ground. With the English knight’s sword, Archibald hit him good in the belly below his limited chain mail.
The giant earl turned to see more.
Montgomery
and his few were working their way toward Archibald as they stepped into the path of several oncoming, wheeling, slashing English knights and
Montgomery
’s small group started their own slashing at arms, legs or whatever came close to blade.
Archibald plucked his shield and sword from the ground and set his jaw to get as many English horsemen out of commission as possible.
The English knights were doing the same.
Archibald saw the English filtering all around him. He ran into the midst of them. He swung his sword once and knocked another knight off his horse killing him by putting his oversized foot on his chest and jamming his blade through his helm visor.
More of the Scots found their weapons. More of them were falling from the wild haphazard sword hacks of the English as they rushed through hitting men as fast and as furious as they could manage.
There were far more Scots on the field than the small forces of the garrison and Lord Neville, watching from the wall walk, knew that his number would have had no chance in an open battle. His excitement exploded as he saw the success Easley and his men were having at frenzied butchery.
Archibald’s head swiveled looking for a next strike.
He grabbed the reins of the dead knight’s horse and swung himself aboard kicking it hard in the ribs and headed straight for the thick of the pack.
Montgomery
had seven kills to his blade. “More
a’comin
’!!” he shouted, “On foot, they are!!”
More of the armed Scots rallied to
Montgomery
’s cries for help.
They screamed their war whoops like banshees and attacked the new comers who easily scattered despite the attempts of their nameless leader trying to hold them cohesive. The English foot soldiers were hardly accountable for they themselves were led to believe their job would be to merely impale wounded Scots to death.
The livid Scots were tearing into the foot soldiers badly. Some of the English ran faster than others but they were all headed back to the still open gate entrance.
The one hiding in the grass jumped up when his comrades ran past and joined them in their retreat.
More Scots rushed to enforce
Montgomery
’s splintered others holding back the more tenacious English foot.
Inside, Lord Neville slipped a pre-written parchment letter into a couriers pouch and handed it to the already briefed and prepared messenger named Roger. “Get this to Lord Henry Percy as fast as you can,” he ordered.
“Yes, Milord,” replied Roger as he put the strap over his head. It dropped to his shoulder as he ran down the stone steps to the main bailey and deftly climbed into the saddle of his awaiting horse. The foot soldiers returning from the field were swarming through the gate tunnel but the messenger knew it was his only chance to get free from the castle without being stopped by the Scots and so galloped through the gate house at best speed running over whoever was in his path.
Within moments Roger was headed east on the road toward Northumberland.
Meanwhile, Archibald Douglas was fighting as many knights as he could stop from maiming his men. He had lost his sword but had taken a long handled hammer-axe from an English knight who came close to using it on him.
Realizing that Sir Thomas Easley was the apparent leader of the sneak attack, the earl worked his way through the mêlée to where he was and rammed him from behind on his right side punching him hard with his large shield and so knocking him off balance.
Thomas straightened on the saddle in time to get a hard clonk on his helm with the flat of Archibald’s newly acquired axe, dazing the man.
Archibald put his foot on the belly of Easley’s horse and pushed the two beasts away enough to give his hammer-axe a good chance to do damage on a next planned swing.
Easley well felt the overhand blow that hit his helm even though it was a glancing blow it knocked him cold and he fell awkwardly to the ground.
Archibald turned for more but what he saw were the English knights frantically working to get unencumbered from Scottish blades and those that still had horses kicked them hard to get back to the gate entrance from whence they came.
The earl was suddenly inspired to try for the open gate and called for as many as he could muster to follow him. They ran as fast as they could on the tails of the English yelling to the top of their voices and shaking whatever weapon they might have had over their heads.
Lord Ralph Neville saw what was happening and a streak of fear surly traversed his old spine for he grabbed up the first man within his grasp and shouted at him to, “Close the goddamned portcullis!!”
The scared man practically leapt the stone steps from the wall walk by twos and threes. He raced through the baileys to the east gate where a bloody horrible mess of poorly managed knighthood packed the fullness of that part of the castle and when he got close enough to the gatemen, screamed, “Lower the portcullis!!”
“Now?!
...” asked the gateman gesturing to the choked maw of the gate tunnel and the men tightly trapped directly under the fall of the grid.
The frantic man, fearful of losing his own life, jerked out his dagger and put the point to the man’s throat and yelped as a mad man, “Pull that goddamned brake pin, NOW!”
The gatekeeper had no choice about the pin and motioned to his companion to let off on the brake pressure a bit while he firmly held the tuft of rope eyed through the pin’s loop hole and pulled.
The men and knights suddenly realized what was happening and moved to get out of the way of the down-coming portcullis.
The companion gatekeeper released the catch dropping several tons of castle protection onto the stone gate tunnel floor.
Men were trapped inside. Men were trapped outside and woe to those who were trapped betwixt for they were instantly killed or wished they had been.
Lord Neville finally managed to get to the congested gate tunnel. He was pleased with the persistence of his surrogate whom he had sent ahead of his arrival. He stood on the head of a dead man to see better through the grille work.
The knights trapped on the outside thought to make a fight of it rather than go down begging for their lives and pushed themselves back across the drawbridge to stand their ground.
Archibald saw the portcullis fall and the good knights trapped and others killed. He made no move to take revenge on the English but he could not blame his warrior Scots who badly wanted and needed their small taste of revenge.