Irish War (Anarchy Book 16) Page 5

  “You have done well but you have not neglected your studies while I have been away, have you? “

  “No father I have practised my reading and my writing.” His voice told me that he had not enjoyed it. I had been the same.

  I put my arm around his shoulders and led him back to St John’s well and the castle. I sympathised with him. I had hated the lessons but I had endured them and now I appreciated the skill. As we neared the gate I was greeted by people entering and leaving my castle. With winter approaching they were all stocking up with what they might need for the winter. Sometimes the winters on the Tees were benign. At other times the cold would be so severe that you could drive a wagon over the ice on the Tees. Wolf winters were, thankfully, rare but there were still wolves in the remote places. I remembered one such winter and the howling of the wolves still sent shivers up my spine.

  “Good to see you returned, lord.”

  “Your son is the image of you, lord.”

  “Another Warlord eh, lord?

  Every man wished to speak with me. Most had fought alongside my father. One or two had fought alongside me. Old Tom, with the one hand knuckled his stump as he had passed. My father had rescued him from a life of a beggar in the far south of the land on the road to Oxford. He had been a former man at arms who had been wounded. My father had given him a horse and money and he had come home. Now he lived, once more, in the town in which he grew up.

  “Lord, I heard you sent the Scots packing.”

  “I did Tom. How goes it with you?”

  “Your father gave me a second life. It was as though I was reborn. A man should return to his roots. When I die it will be in the land in which I was born.”

  “Hopefully you will be spared that.”

  “God willing, lord.”

  Samuel and I entered the castle. “How did he become wounded, father?”

  “I know not but my father would. There were many battles during the civil war.”

  “And grandfather fights now?”

  “He does. He and the king have just subdued the rebels in Anjou and he is heading home.”

  Samuel became excited, “Grandfather comes here?”

  I did not want to raise his hopes. “Perhaps. As you know it is not a short journey to England from Anjou and the king may have need of your grandfather.”

  He nodded, “You and the king look like brothers.”

  I laughed, “That is only because we are of an age.” That was not true, of course, Henry was ten years my junior but others had commented that we had a similar gait and build. Perhaps because we had both been raised by father we had both learned them from him. I knew that I looked very much like my father when he was younger. Old Alf the blacksmith and Ethelred the merchant always commented on the similarities. I thought it sad that there appeared to be no trace of my mother in me. She had died when I had been young and I had barely known her. At least my son and daughter had their mother to raise them. There had been no woman in my life when I had been growing up. Alice had come when I was a man grown. As we entered the hall and I heard Ruth squealing as she played with my wife I smiled. My children had their mother.

  The time to leave came all too quickly. I received two letters, by ship, from the King and my father. The King’s told me which lords should have their lands returned to them and which were for me to appoint. It was a great honour. We had to delay our departure to await the five returning lords and their retinues. I was not certain they would live in their northern manors but I guessed the King Henry had insisted that they help to retake them. I did not mind the delay. I had more time with my family and the extra men would make my task much easier.

  The letter from my father was much more personal. He asked after my family and explained that the king wished him to go to Wales and help to retake the land lost to the Welsh. He promised to return north as soon as he could.

  While we awaited the last two lords I dined with Henry de Percy, Roger de Mowbray and Richard fitz Roger. The Percy family had lands around Topcliffe and in Sussex but there was also an estate on the Aln which belong to them. It was called Alnwick. It had a motte and bailey castle but Henry de Percy was keen to build a stone one. His family was wealthy and King Henry had granted him permission to build a castle. Roger de Mowbray had come all the way from Anjou. King Henry wished him to have Bamburgh as his home and to build a keep there. The young knight was castellan only. The king had decided that Bamburgh would be a royal castle. As we spoke I heard my father’s words for he had maintained that a strong Bamburgh would keep Northumbria safe. Richard fitz Roger was a little younger than me and had impressed the king. He was to be given the castle at Warkworth. That too was a simple castle but King Henry wished a stone one to be built. As we spoke I saw the King’s strategy. Bamburgh and Warkworth could both be supplied by sea. Warkworth could control the Coquet valley while the castle on the Aln would dominate the valley of the Aln.

  Henry de Percy said, “King Henry has appointed Richard de Braose to the New Castle. He wants a strong castle building there. Have you seen the site, lord?”

  “I have and I applaud the King’s strategy. With your three castles and the New Castle strengthened then we have a line of bastions along the east coast.”

  “What is the land like to the north, Earl? My family has estates in Anjou. Is it similar here?”

  I laughed, “No, my young friend. You will find it cold and inhospitable in winter.”

  “That is what I feared. There was a rumour that wheat cannot be grown there.”

  “It is not a rumour; it is the truth. Your bread will be oat or barley bread.”

  Roger fitz Richard shook his head, “Then what is there of value there?”

  The young knight disappointed me slightly but then he had come from a land so different as to explain his views. “It has land for sheep and cattle. There is a great trade in wool. The seas teem with fish. I do not think you will be poor, living on the Coquet.”

  When the last three lords arrived, we headed north. I rode towards Durham. My riders had warned the Bishop that our arrival would be imminent. We did not enter Durham. I was keen to head north but I made sure that all the men I had asked for were there. I allocated them to the siege and baggage train. It was an insult but I knew most of the other knights who rode with me. I assumed that those appointed by King Henry would have been examined by my father first. As Earl Marshal, he wielded power which was second only to the king.

  We rode north and our army snaked along the great road built by the Romans. The bridge the Romans had built still spanned the river. The gatehouses on either end had been added by King William. They were made of wood. This would be our first test. If they contested the crossing of the Tyne then it would be a marker that the Scots were unwilling to obey their king. I had the document with me. Brother Peter carried it. This time he was escorted by four of my new men.

  When I saw the gates at the end of the bridge open I knew that they had decided to allow us to reclaim the castle unopposed. As my horse clattered over the stone bridge I saw why. The castle just had a curtain wall and the old Roman gates. It would not have withstood a siege. I turned to Richard de Braose who would be the new lord, “You and your men will have your work cut out to build a strong castle here.”

  He nodded, “King Henry promised me stone. The first thing we will do will be to improve the quay so that they can tie up safely. I do not envy you your task, lord. I fear taking the north will be harder.”

  Wulfric said, “If they are all as easy as this then it will be a pleasant winter ride.”

  I hoped that we would not rue Wulfric’s words. We spent the night at the castle and, leaving Braose and his men, we left at dawn to head north to Morthpath on the Wansbeck. This time the motte and bailey was occupied. I waved forward Ranulf de Merlay whose family had built the castle. “Come, Sir Ranulf, let us go and speak with your tenants. Brother Peter, Alf!”

  With my banner and my priest, I rode bareheaded towards the bridge ov
er the dry moat. There were men on the walls. “I am the Earl of Cleveland.” I held out my hand and Brother Peter thrust the parchment into it. “This is a treaty signed by King Malcolm of Scotland. He relinquishes his title as Earl of Northumbria and the county. This land now belongs to Sir Ranulf de Merlay who holds it for King Henry of England. Open your gates and admit your lawful lord.”

  Suddenly I saw a head appear above the gate and a crossbow. Before it could release a bolt, a pair of arrows flew over from behind me and the crossbowman plummeted to his death. I did not turn around. That would have been either Dick or Robin Hawkeye.

  I handed the parchment to Brother Peter. “If I draw my sword then all hell will be unleashed and every living thing in the castle will be slaughtered. Open the gates!” I put my hand on my pommel. There was a pause and I heard heated words. Then the gates creaked open and we entered. I saw the lord, he was dressed in mail but the rest of his retinue were poorly armed. We would have been able to take the castle with little loss.

  “For the attempt on my life I could have every man blinded! Instead I give you your lives, leave!”

  “But our belongings!”

  “Take what you can carry and be grateful that I give you your lives. You should have left when King Malcolm ordered you.”

  “King Malcolm!” There was derision in every syllable.

  “He is still your liege lord. Go!”

  “Where to?”

  “Scotland begins north of the Tweed!” They hurried back inside the hall. “Sir Ranulf, take your men and make sure that they do leave.”

  We camped by the river. It was a cold night. I could have stayed in the hall with Sir Ranulf but if my men suffered then so would I. As we sat around a fire Sir Wulfric said, “This will be an easy campaign lord. You were right. The two months delay has helped us. Sir Ranulf said they had few supplies laid in for winter.”

  I nodded, “I am guessing that the lords with the bigger castles have taken the supplies. Warkworth may prove to be more difficult.”

  We had just fourteen miles to travel the next day. It became obvious, as we neared the castle, that it would be defended. All of the farms which lay in our path had been abandoned. The animals had been taken from the fields. When I spied the banner of the Fitzalan family fluttering from the wooden keep then I knew that Walther Fitzalan had decided where he would make his first stand. Dick and Wulfric nudged their horses next to mine. “That is a mighty site for a castle.”

  I nodded. The River Coquet flowed around the castle and they had dug a moat across the neck. The drawbridge was up. The only place we could attack was across the two hundred and fifty paces of the moat. “Set up camp here. I will ride and see if they are willing to negotiate.”

  Dick said, “I will send your archers to watch your back. We do not want a repeat of Morthpath.”

  “You are right. Alf, Brother Peter, let us go and see if these will surrender too!”

  We had to stop two hundred paces from the gatehouse. There was a wooden palisade next to the moat. The gatehouse was made of wood too. I began to work out how we would take it even as we rode up.

  “I am the Earl of Cleveland.” I held out my hand and Brother Peter thrust the parchment into it. “This is a treaty signed by King Malcolm of Scotland. He relinquishes his title as Earl of Northumbria and the county. This land now belongs to Sir Richard fitz Roger. Surrender the castle to me.”

  This time it was a knight who spoke to me but I saw, next to him, the lord I had evicted from Morthpath.

  “I am Angus Fitzalan. My uncle has made me lord of this land. We hold it the castle and you will bleed your lives away if you try to take it.” He gestured to his left, “My cousin James lost all to you, son of the Warlord. We will not! The ones south of here were as spineless as King Malcolm. You will now find Scotsmen who have iron in their backbone.”

  “That is your last word?”

  “It is!”

  I turned and led my men back. “Unpack the war engines. We need a ram and two onagers. Sir Harold, take your men and have them cut down logs to make a bridge over the moat.”

  Sir Wulfric shook his head, “They are wooden walls! They are fools.”

  “Aye they are. Sir Richard, you too will need to build in stone as quickly as you can!”

  “I have the stone sailing north already lord. We can land it next to the castle. I beg you let my men lead the attack.”

  “Aye, for it is your home for which you fight.”

  We only had one wall to watch. While men began to build the machines, others erected our tents. Dick led my archers west to find a crossing of the Wansbeck. I dismounted and walked to the shore. I wished to enjoy the peace of the waves breaking on the beach, Brother Peter joined me.

  He shook his head, “The lord is foolish. If he had stone walls behind which to fight then I would understand it.”

  “You are right. This castle was built by Lord Alexander. Had he not been killed at the battle of the New Castle then I fear he would have begun to build in stone and we would have struggled to reduce it.”

  He pulled up his habit and tucked it under his belt. He waded into the river and began to pick shellfish. I watched him for a while. He made a pile of them before stepping ashore. “This is what I missed in the Holy Land. England is such a rich land. A man can pick greens all year. He can forage in the river for shellfish or fish for eels and river fish. I know not why lords seek a home in that inhospitable land.”

  “You are right. My wife does not like the cold but she cannot believe how well fed the people are.” I pointed to the castle. “I will wager they will not have enough supplies.”

  Brother Peter shook his head, “Lord, it will not come to that. You will reduce this before the end of the week.”

  I hoped he was right. I planned on reaching Norham before Christmas. I wished Sir John of Stockton to be Castellan there. He had shown that he could act as one when he had done so in Stockton. One of my father’s first squires, he was reliable as Sir Leofric and Sir Wulfric. Technically the castle belonged to Bishop Puiset. His predecessor had built it but as he had done nothing to aid me I had decided to use my powers to benefit Sir John.

  Dick and some of his archers returned and Brother Peter and I headed back to the main camp. “There is a ford just a mile or so upstream. I sent half of my archers under Aelric. They will watch the north bank of the river.”

  “Good. We may have to resort to fire arrows. The keep and the walls are made of wood.”

  Dick was as confident as Brother Peter. “We will not need fire although that might aid Sir Richard. He intends to build in stone. If the wooden walls are burned down then it will speed the building.”

  “Aye but he will need a roof over his head. Fire will be my last resort.”

  By the middle of the next day the onagers and the ram had been constructed. Logs had been cut and split into planks. Using ropes, they were made into bridges. We had three of them. Our men at arms advanced to the moat with their shields held before them. Behind them came the archers. The men at arms would be human shields and allow the archers to loose over their heads. Once in position the ram, manned by Sir Richard and his men, accompanied by the two mangonels, moved closer.

  Crossbow bolts began to rattle off our shields. Dick was in command and he let the crossbows shower the men at arms. I could not help smiling. Dick knew that the worst enemy of the crossbow was constant use. There were mechanical parts which could go wrong. A bow was simple. If the bow string broke or became too slack then an archer would simply replace it. He was waiting until they had used many of their bolts and until some of the machines of the devil broke down.

  I heard his calm voice command and I waited. “Draw!”

  We had a hundred archers. There was an audible creak as a hundred bows were pulled back by the most powerful men in my army.

  “Release!” From my vantage point I saw crossbowmen and other warriors fall as the arrows fell amongst them.

  “Release!” A seco
nd shower had a similar effect. Shields were raised.

  I shouted, “Bridges!”

  My men picked up the bridges and ran to the ditch. They overlapped the ditch by a pace on each side. One of Sir Roger’s men was hit in the leg by a bolt but the rest escaped injury.

  Dick shouted, “Ralph of Wales take your men across!”

  Thirty archers and their men at arms raced across one bridge while the other two sections kept down the heads of those on the walls.

  Ralph of Wales shouted, “Ready, lord!”

  “Henry Warbow take your men across.”

  This time Ralph of Wales’ men, closer to the walls, added their arrows.

  “Long Tom take your men across!”

  With my archers and men at arms now in position it was time to send the three war machines over. The ram used the centre bridge while the two onagers flanked it. Once again two men were struck by missiles. This time, as they were closer, it was stones.

  Dick shouted, “Archers, draw!” There was a creak, “Release.” They repeated their actions for twelve arrows.

  During that time the onagers, with men at arms protecting them began to loose rocks at the walls adjacent to the gate. The cracks sounded like thunder. I saw the walls actually shake. The ram rumbled towards the gate. As soon as it neared it the two onagers switched targets and began to drop stones inside the castle. Those who were sheltering would have no warning as the rocks crashed and cracked through flimsy wood and shingle. Sir Richard and his men pulled back the ram’s head and it thundered into the wooden gate. I saw the walls adjacent shaking. The onagers had damaged them.

  I turned, “Sir Wulfric, prepare your wedge!”

  “Aye lord.”

  He turned and began marshalling his men. They would be five men wide. That was determined by the width of the bridges. As soon as Sir Richard broke through then Sir Wulfric would assault the gatehouse. With his war axe he was a terrifying sight. I saw parts of the wall, where the onagers struck, break. If the Scots had surrendered then they might have avoided the slaughter which was to follow. My archers were now conserving their strength and their arrows. The walls had no targets. I was guessing that they were waiting behind the gate.