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Authors: Griff Hosker

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Military, #War, #Historical Fiction

Warlord of the North (22 page)

BOOK: Warlord of the North
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We were a hundred paces from them.  They began to spread out into a longer line, "Charge!"

We hurtled at them. It was not a gallop but a canter and we stayed together. They had lost their unity when they spread out and we were a solid mass of horseflesh and metal.  I pulled back my spear and, as we met their disordered line, I punched forward.  The knight I hit was struck just over his sword hand.  It tore through the metal of his armour and then through the soft gambeson. He was already falling over the back of his horse when the tip found flesh and I pushed a little harder and then twisted and pulled. The tip came away bloody.

Sir Edward on one side of me and Wulfric on the other had no enemies to fight for the archers had cleared the knights on either side of the one I had slain.  I did not want to risk the water and I yelled, "Wheel!" We were just twenty paces from the beck. The second line moved apart to allow us to move through them and then they struck the remnants of the second and third lines. When the Scottish trumpet sounded the retreat we knew we had won the  first part of this battle.

The Scots withdrew to the brow of the hill.  The light was fading.  Would they risk another attack? They turned and disappeared out of sight.

"Do you think they are going home, lord?"

"No, John. That would be a good ending but they have many more men than we do.  They will camp. Wulfric, I want sentries watching the ford.  Sir Tristan take your conroi and reinforce the ford on the Wear.  They might try something there."

They both left.  "Sir Harold and Sir John have your men strip their dead of anything of value, mail and weapons. Have the dead horses butchered and then place the Scottish dead by the beck.  It will be another obstacle for them and it will remind them of their losses."

I dismounted and took off my helmet. It was not over but we had seeded their minds with doubts. I  looked at the dead as they were piled by the river.  Over twenty men at arms and knights had fallen I knew there were others dead in the river and on the other side.  I was in no doubt that others had made it back but were wounded. One of Harold's men at arms had a bad wound and four others needed attention. It was a small loss.  My archers combed the field seeking unbroken arrows. They would only be used when all the good arrows had been released. We wasted nothing.

We returned to the village.  We had not bothered the people but now, as the smell of roasting horseflesh filled the air, a few of them ventured out. I called to them. "Come and join us.  There is plenty of meat.  It is Scottish horse meat."

The smell was too tempting even for the most timid and they sat around our fires sharing the bounty.

I sought out the headman. "Do you hear much from the Bishop, headman?"

"No lord.  At least not directly. His steward sends to us for timber and his hunters use the forests but we rarely see him."

"And are you bothered much by the Scots?"

"Aye lord.  Never an army such as you faced today but there are thieves and robbers who try to take what we have." He smacked the sword at his side.  "We defend what is ours."

I nodded, "They will come again tomorrow."

He smiled, "And you will send them packing for you are the Wolf of the North. Every Scot knows and fears your banner. Travellers who ply this road tell tales of your deeds.  When we saw your banner we knew that we would be safe for we are English.  The ones who need fear your ferocity are the Scots."

"Well, tomorrow, my friend, have your people keep indoors until it is over.  It may not be quite as easy on the morrow."

I had each of my knights take a watch that night as did I. Perhaps I gave this Baron of Skipton too much credit.  I had thought, with his superior numbers, he would have tried a night attack.  He did not.

I had the last watch, the one before dawn, and I watched snow as it slowly fell. Within a short time everything was covered in a thin blanket of white. I knew that the snow meant it would be warmer and the ground, which had been frozen hard, would now be thawed. It would not be the same when they attacked us this day. I began to change my plans. I smiled to myself as I walked our lines.  In times past I would have had to ask the Earl of Gloucester, the King or the Count for permission to do so.  Now I was Warlord I answered to no one.

By the time it was dawn and my men were roused, fed and armed I had my new plan. "Move all of the horses save Sir Harold's men at arms. I want the horses south of the river." While we ate I told my knights and leaders what I intended. I sent Edgar the falconer to keep Sir Tristan informed.  My falconer would wait with Sir Tristan as a messenger. We woke the villagers and sent them across the river to safety.  They offered to fight alongside us but it would not be right.  They were not warriors.  They were farmers.

I walked with Sir Edward and Wulfric to the beck. Some of our archers had stood guard there all night.  I sniffed the air for the wind was, as it had been for some days, from the north east. "Do you smell that?"

They both looked at me as though I was mad and Sir Edward said, "Wood smoke?"

"Aye and that is all.  If you stood downwind of our camp you would smell horsemeat and venison. They have had cold rations.  From what Aiden said they have been using the villages they have taken to supply them.  We denied them Wolsingham.  We have a hungry army. They will be keen to get at us.  They saw us butchering their horses. Forget their leaders and the knights; the ordinary warrior will try to cover this slippery morass of snow covered mud to get at us.  That is why we use Harold and his men to draw them on to us. When they cross the beck they will be desperate to get into the village and we use it as a castle. We have our men at arms between the huts with archers behind." I turned. "Come let us walk back and see what they shall see."

It became obvious which places would be attacked first and the three of us decided which men would go where. With Sir Tristan's men at the ford along with many of Sir Edward's we were down, largely to the men of Stockton, those I led and Sir John. They would have to do. The weapon which would break the Scots would be the war bow. The archers would be our third rank and they would kill as the Scots struggled to get at us.

Sir Harold mounted his men.  He had fourteen and a squire. "Remember Harold that you flee as soon as the Scots leave the beck. Your purpose is twofold.  To prevent them seeing our defences and to draw them on. You ride towards the village and then along the river.  Cross at the ford and then join us in the village on foot."

"Aye lord.  I will not let you down."

They headed to the beck while we planted the broken spears we had collected from the battlefield as a barrier before us. I had all of the spears we had brought and we each had three of them. There were no squires to pass them forward. I had had to spread my knights out.  We had used the ashes from the fires and reeds from the river bank to make a firmer footing for us.  Whilst not dry it was not slippery.  In a hand to hand combat that might make all the difference. Between each hut was a strongpoint held by one of my knights or a sergeant at arms. With me I had ten of my men at arms for I had the road to defend. Philip of Selby and fourteen of his archers were behind us.

As we waited I knew the weakness of my strategy.  If they ignored the wall of spears and attacked the huts they could hack their way through them and make our defence irrelevant. I counted on the fact that they would be angry at their treatment the day before and be keen to get at us. Rage which was blind often hid simple solutions.

All that we could see were the rumps of the fifteen horses before us. There were no archers in the woods although the Scots would be expecting them.  There were no caltrops in the river.  All that they saw was a thin line of men at arms. Suddenly I heard Sir Harold shout something and the line wheeled and came directly towards us.  He did as I had asked and kept a straight line to keep our defences hidden. When they were twenty paces from us they wheeled.  Even though they were not travelling quickly and all obeyed their orders one horse slipped and skidded a little.  The hooves of the horses had transformed the white sheet of snow into a grey sloppy, slippery ice swamp.

As Sir Harold and his men headed east I saw the Scots. I frowned.  There were no horsemen.  This was just foot soldiers.  I saw that they were led by a knight.  I did not recognise his banner which was blue with a diagonal red cross.  The Scots had interspersed their men at arms amongst the lightly armed Galwegians and mercenaries. I would have to worry about their horsemen later.

The conditions underfoot became apparent when the knight tried to run.  He slipped.  His men, many of whom were barefoot, fared a little better but, even so their charge was little more than a fast walk. When they became unbalanced I watched as they waved their arms to recover.  Philip of Selby said, "Now then lads, watch for targets.  There will be plenty. If the Earl has no one to fight then we have done our job!"

We held the section across the road and this would be the point of their attack. It was also the closest to the Scots and we would be the first to engage. Philip of Selby launched the first arrow which whizzed over my head and plunged into the face of a man at arms.  The man at arms was before the knight and he had slipped, as his arms had flailed his shield had dropped. Soon our archers were targeting individual Scots. Each one they aimed at was hit. Not one arrow was wasted.  Of course the men that they felled were a drop in the ocean. Philip and his men had hit but thirty out of the hundreds who came. The knight shouted, "Halt!" Followed by, "Shield wall!"

In the time it took to form the wall another twenty men had died or been wounded and I noticed arrows coming from our flanks.  Soon our entire force of archers would be releasing arrows.

The Scots eventually had a wall of shields protecting those behind who had none. Philip said, "Right lads, release high in the sky.  On my command! Now!"

This time fifteen arrows went straight up followed by another fifteen and then another.  After five such showers I saw that the heart had gone from the wedge.  I could see gaps behind as the Scots closed with us.  Philip and his archers would now concentrate on those behind the front ranks and it would be up to me and my men to hold the wall of shields until my archers had won the battle for us.

I held my first spear high for, as the Scots came close, they had to negotiate the planted spears. They watched their footing and the path they had to follow. A man at arms was ahead of the knight once more. He stared at me and I held his eyes.  The moment they flicked to the ground to see where the next spear was my right hand darted out and the spear head entered his eye.  I pushed hard. Even had it not been a mortal wound he would have fallen. As he did so an arrow sped from behind me and, as it was at a range of less than ten feet, embedded itself in the right shoulder of the knight.

I pulled back my spear and hurled it over hand. It embedded itself in the knight's chest for his shield had fallen to the side. I picked up another and braced it against the ground as enraged men at arms and wild Galwegians ran at us. It was a costly mistake.  Those who avoided the spears were struck by arrows released at a ridiculously close range.  Even mail would not stand against them. When my last spear was shattered I drew my sword. We had been pushed back a little and I stepped forward into the gap which appeared.  My men followed me. As I stepped forward I held up my shield to take the blow from the war hammer wielded in two hands by a huge warrior. I had taken such a blow before.  It could break an arm and the secret was to angle the shield so that the force of the hammer was deflected.  As it slid down the face of my shield my sword stabbed into his unprotected middle.  I felt it grate along his spine as it came out of his back.  The huge warrior fell backwards.

The effect of the arrows was now apparent and we no longer had a mass of men before us. This was the time to destroy their morale, "On! Charge!"

My men roared and we stepped forward.  We did not run but we were an alarming sight.  We all wore mail and wielded good swords and axes. They broke and ran. It was then that my archers had more targets than they had arrows. As the Scots turned their backs they died. The slippery ground meant that many were saved as they slipped before an arrow could hit them but when they slowly rose some died anyway.

I had thought we had won until Edgar the falconer galloped up.  "Lord! The knights are attacking Sir Tristan.  Sir Harold has gone to help."

"Philip keep after the men on foot.  To horse!"

We moved back through the village.  I could see that men had fallen. There was no time to see who.  Gilles, get your horse. Squires join us."

We crossed the bridge to our already saddled horses.  I could hear the battle to the east. I prayed we would be in time. I mounted Badger and, drawing my sword spurred him east. We had no time to form lines and to organise ourselves.  We would arrive piecemeal. I saw a wild
mêlée taking place as men at arms and knights from both sides were engaged in a furious fight to take the ford over the Wear.  Arrows still fell upon the Scots which meant the wagon castle was still held but the mounted knights and men at arms swirled together in a wild mass of swords shields and horses. I spurred Badger and his powerful legs ate the virgin snow as he thundered to the mêlée.

I spied Sir Harold and his men as they fought to get through to his friend Sir Tristan.  They were surrounded by the Scots.  The men at arms whose backs were to me only heard Badger's hooves at the last moment.  I did not slow him down. Three things hit the Scots at the same time, my shield, my horse and my sword.  My blade found a back while my horse and my shield bowled over a man and his horse.  Badger's hooves ended the man's life. I saw a knight prepare to stab Sir Harold in the back. Without breaking stride I brought my sword around in an arc and smashed it across the back of the knight. He threw his arms in the air as his spine was shattered and he fell to the ground.  I pulled back on Badger's reins and, as he raised his legs, his hooves smashed down on the man at arms to the left of Sir Harold.

BOOK: Warlord of the North
11.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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