Games of Otterburn 1388 (7 page)

“Too much
thinkin
’.
I don’t care,” growled Hotspur smacking his right fist into the palm of his left hand for emphasis, “We can
still
beat them!” His fist struck three more times as he imagined beating the Scots to pulp.

“Send out more spies… see where our enemy is and what they’re
doin
’. It will take the Scots days to get to
Durham
with their army the size reported by our spy,” advised the earl. “I can hold this citadel
a’right
with a small garrison but you will be exposed in the countryside and ripe for ambuscade.”

“I understand, father. One day, I want to teach spies how to better count figures.”

Earl Henry smiled at his son’s naivety.
He should know spies are too stupid to learn numbers and that was why they were spies,
he thought then he said, “Get your brother and hie for
Newcastle
this morn. When you get there send a message to the bishop in
Durham
, name’s Walter Skirlaw… just got put in there in April… and let him know about the Scotch
a’headin
’ his way… he ought to be able to raise
a’plenty
good army.”

“You know him?”

“He’s been around here and there,” said the earl, “I met him somewhere or ‘
nother
… I’m sure.”

“I reckon he knows your earldom at least,” replied Hotspur.

“Just send the damned message, Henry, and see if he sallies from his lock-hole with an army,” yelped Henry frowning. “You can do no more!”

Hotspur blinked in silence. He had a lot to learn but he did not yet know how much. He was rash and brave in the heat of battle but there were times when he lacked the political acumen or the rational thinking to deal with his peers and underlings.

Within the morning Hotspur left Warkworth with his younger brother Sir Ralph by his side and headed south to the walled town of Newcastle-upon-Tyne twenty-one miles from post to post to defend against whatever ‘wild’ Scots came his way in that region.

August 10 - Evening

Newcastle-upon-Tyne

It was coming to dark by the time Hotspur drew up to the walled city of
Newcastle
. He had sent a messenger ahead to inform the town mayor and burgesses of his intended arrival and that a great army of Scots was armed and sallying to their neighborhood with pillaging on their mind.

Newcastle
was situated on the
Tyne
River
and for many years was a thriving market and export center. Surrounding the multiple storied keep was a wall that was built during the reign of Edward I. It was two miles of twenty-five foot high stone seven feet thick with six main gateways, seventeen towers and many smaller turrets serving as lookout posts between the towers. The south wall fronted the river where an active quay was kept busy exporting many commodities among them being wool, millstones, dairy products, leather, lead, and coal.

At the center of the town was the great rectangular keep. Within its walls gathered the mayor, Adam Buckham, and the burgesses, the hierarchy of the East March including Sir Henry ‘Hotspur’ Percy and his brother Sir Ralph. Sir Matthew Redman, Governor of Berwick, Sir Robert Ogle, and Sir Ralph Lumley, seneschal of
York
all had hurried armies to
Newcastle
that day. They all were thankful for the opportunity to face the dragon and smite him gloriously.

Within the town walls the regular population of four thousand was pushed aside by the thousands of the newly-brought English troops who had been hastily gathered at Hotspur’s request. During the course of the day and into the night they came until there was little room to place them within doors. Some soldiers were necessarily left to the green areas of the town that they had to share with the many horses of the gathering army come to kill the marauding Scots. Fear and bravado were everywhere present as it manifested in an overall ambiance of excitement.

Hotspur threw a messenger’s pouch onto the table where the great lords of the realm had gathered for a war council. The pouch and shoulder strap turned as it slid across the smooth surface so that it slung the parchment contents out of its envelope and under the eyes of the lords and burgesses.

“‘Tis from our king,” spoke Hotspur as if he had the taste of poisoned food in his mouth.

Matthew was the first to reach for the folded message that had the broken red wax seal of Richard II impressed into it. He unfolded it and began to silently read.

“It says to wait!” groused Hotspur. “It says to wait for him and Arundel to arrive with more troops ere we go for the Scotch!”

There was a moment of general grumbling around the large table. Only the sitting mayor and burgesses remained quiet for their particular axe to grind was not in question but for the warriors there it definitely was an air of contention.

“They’ll be done
raidin
’ and back in
Scotland
afore these men get from the outskirts of
London
,” said Ralph Lumley standing in agreement of Hotspur’s attitude.

Matthew Redman also stood to show his agreement along with Ralph Percy. Seeing the higher ups standing the lesser knights stood as well leaving the city fathers the only ones sitting.

The mayor and burgesses were quick to realize there might be a decision they may have to defend at the feet of their Lord King and so they, at last, stood but as soon as they did so they passed from the table to the door with a definite slam as the last exited.

“What are we to do?” asked nineteen year old Ralph.

“We cannot just sit here until the king arrives,” answered Hotspur.

“And yet we cannot go against our king,” spoke Redman.

The sheriff of
Newcastle
sat and fingered the document from the king. “What say we did not get it?”

“Ha!” said Hotspur loudly. “Our troubles would mount quickly from when that oath was
spoke
.”

“Oath?” asked the sheriff.

“We would all have to agree and swear an oath to never tell,” said Redman.

“And kill all the city fathers, we would,” said Robert Ogle slapping his flat hand onto the table top.

The table’s attention suddenly was riveted on Ogle. He mouth turned downward as he began to speak, “This secret is
a’ready
out of the pouch, so to speak. We must mind its contents!”

Hotspur slowly sat as the salient words of Ogle sunk beyond his pride to his sensibility. “He is right. We must wait.”

The remaining men returned to their seats.

“What about
Skirlaw
?” asked Ralph
meekly.

“
What
about Skirlaw?” returned
Redman.

“The Bishop of Durham was sent a message,” explained Hotspur. “Whether he arrives here with troops or not is anybody’s guess. He has only been there for three months and of this man I personally know little else.”

“Reckon he got a message from King Richard, too?” asked Lumley.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Hotspur remembering his
father’s words
regarding the bishop. “If he comes, he comes.”

Redman again stood. “Can we make a contingency plan?”

“To what end?” retorted Hotspur.

Redman could not come to a decision in his own mind and so yielded the floor to any other.

“We are here and ready,” remarked Hotspur, “but our reins are held fast to the
inside
of West Gate wall.”

“Send out more scouts,” advised Redman.

“I have,” said Hotspur. “None so far have reported. Some have been out all day.”

“On the morn then… we will hope for a spy’s return… then we’ll know… at least
somethin
’,” said Redman optimistically.

August 11 - Afternoon

Southern Northumberland

Earl James Douglas’ horse dipped his fetlocks into the River Tyne.

“We’ll break here,” announced
Douglas
climbing from his saddle and putting his own feet, boots and all, into the cool water.

“Can we cross here?” asked George Dunbar.

Douglas
looked at the far bank and saw the river was well within its banks. “I’ve crossed here afore. Yer feet get wet and it comes up to ‘bout chest high on the horses,” he opined.

Earl George shrugged, looked back at his men and waved them to water their horses then he got from his horse.

The band of warriors spread out along the river bank. The break allowed them and their mounts to drink and have a meal of oats and water. The grass along the bank was green and the gathered horses took advantage of the break to nibble what they could within the time allotted.

George hunkered near the water where his horse was drinking. He took his pouch of oats from around his neck and fingered inside for a bit of the grain.

“Hungry?” asked
Douglas
.