Hoodsman: Blackstone Edge Page 7
"They've gone around the other way. To get up here from the east you have to double back a quarter mile, but in the west the edge curves and you can get up in a few hundred paces with a horse, or less on foot. They will be in the cave by now."
"Cave, what cave?" asked Jonas.
"Where the edge curves the rock is broken, and there is a cave. It's not like a sink hole cave, it is more like a slab layer cave. We have a dry place to sleep, and there is a good view for the watcher." He walked over to the hobbled horses and began to release them. "Help me here and we will take all the horses with us!" he called towards young Raynar. "Oy, useless, don't just walk over those tools, pick them up and bring them."
Raynar looked down at the picks and suddenly realized how dog tired he was. He hung the tools from the saddle and led his horse in line after the others.
The entrance to the cave was on the side of the edge facing away from the street. It was a crack in the bedrock that had fallen away underneath, but had left a thick slab as a roof. The men had already gathered fire wood from lower on the hillside and had found some poor quality peat in a nearby bog. They had the peat stacked to dry, and had turned some of the wood into torches. By torchlight, you could see the back of the cave. There were figures drawn with charcoal on the flat face of the rock. Stick men and stick animals. This cave had been used since the times of the ancients. The sheep droppings showed that it had been used last summer by a shepherd.
There was yelling from men outside asking for the men inside to make smoke. In an easy response, they threw grass on the cooking fire and a volume of choking smoke filled the cave. Raynar and the rest ducked down out of the smoke and sat coughing while it cleared. The men from outside came to report that the wind coming up the edge caught any smoke and thinned it and whipped it in every direction so that you could not tell it from the mist. With the darkness came a change in temperature, and with it the mists.
They told the other men about the other barriers they had created, but everyone was too exhausted to listen. They just wanted to eat and go to sleep. They built two fires. One from the peat to keep them warm, and the other out of dry wood to give light and to cook their meat. So long as you stayed seated you did not choke on the smoke.
Raynar shivered in just his brynja while he tried to dry his wool cloak close to the fire. Most of the men here, had cloaks made from the skins of small animals and they wore them with the fur side facing in, so that the smooth tanned side shed the rain. The fur that showed on the front sections seemed to be rabbit, which made sense as rabbit made up a good part of their forest diet. The back sections were thicker and stiffer, perhaps young deer. Around the neck was soft fur that he did not recognize.
Up here in the icy damp mists he envied them their furs. Though his wool cloak stayed warm even when wet, it became heavier and heavier in the damp, and it always smelled. Shepherds would damp seal the outside of their felted cloaks with sheep oil, but then, of course, they spent their lives around sheep who did not mind the way that sheep oil smelled.
Eventually Jonas stood up in a coughing fit from the smoke and removed his cloak. He took a torch and used the smoke from it to trace how the smoke was escaping from the cave. He came back, grabbed his pick, walked towards the peat fire and took a giant swing at rocks above it. A large one fell from the ceiling and almost hit his foot, and then the smoke began to clear. "Sorry lads, something was plugging the chimney," was all he said.
After they had filled the cave with the smell of charred venison, and had cut pieces of it into the bean porridge that was simmering, Jonas again stood. He took one of the torches and explored the back of the cave. He came back and picked up his pick, and told some other pick men to follow him. Raynar dragged himself to he feet see what all the noise was about. "This is just the outer cave, the barn, that we are using. There's been a fall in back that has blocked the inner cave. Once we open it, we can live as well as the ancients did, and get our horses in out of the weather.
The pounding and thumping went on for another half hour and then there were yells of encouragement, and after another half hour the passage was cleared. "We're through!" yelled Jonas, and all the men went to have a looks see. The inner cave was as large as the outer, but had a lower ceiling.
"Bloody Hades, no ones been in here for a spell," said Jonas in wonder. "Look at those paintings. Those aren't charcoal drawings, that is paint. Someone used this as their long house, and not just shepherds. Look at that picture. Looks like a giant house cat with boars tusks" There was a fire pit against the far wall and he crossed to it and looked up. "Another chimney here." He held the torch up to it and the torch flamed higher. "And it still draws air. Good. Lads, drag the fire out of the other cave and set it here. Once there are no coals in the outer cave, we can move the horses into it."
There was a rush of activity as bedding, clothing, food, firewood, everything was moved to the inner cave. "The horses will be glad to get out of that mist. Its got them right spooked," said one of the men. "Will they all fit?"
"Easily," replied another of the men, "and they will keep this cave warm all night, though it will smell a bit. Room for at least a dozen, I'd say."
They made up their beds while they waited for the fires to die in the outer cave. The inner cave was already warming. Two of the younger lads were bringing in arm loads of bracken and heather from outside. They shoved it under their sheepskins to make their beds more comfortable. Before they had finished, they had been cajoled into find more for everyone.
There, at the top of the world, in a cave used by ancients, they spent the night hiding from the weather, in relative warmth and comfort, as folk had been doing since the giants first made this land. They passed around a large aleskin to help them sleep, set the watch schedule, and passed out.
Raynar was restless with nightmares so he would wake himself to break the dreams, and walk out passed the horses and into the mist. Sometimes when he looked up he could see stars, so this was just mist, not clouds. He sent prayers to Thor to help him to succeed, but the howl of the wind in the rocks mocked him, so he prayed to the wind instead.
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The Hoodsman - Blackstone Edge by Skye Smith
Chapter 8 - Waiting for the enemy at Blackstone Edge in February 1070
The morning light showed a land covered in ice. According to the watch, sleet had fallen for less than a half hour, but had frozen to everything it touched. Every stone was treacherous. After breaking fast on left over bean and venison soup, young Raynar asked for two volunteers to go down the west slope and watch for Alan and the rest of the men. Everyone else was to stay near the cave and wait for the ice to thaw. Everyone, that is, except for Raynar and Jonas. They headed east to look for signs of the army.
On the way they checked their vandalism from the day before. The box canyon looked like a deadly trap, but they would only be able to take shots for perhaps five minutes before Norman riders would double back and follow along the cliff edge to the bowmen.
The sink hole was a delay, nothing more, for there was no cover for the bowmen.
The double ford was a joy to behold. The dammed river had carved the street away right to the hillside. They did a quick search of the wooded bank for caves and hides. If this were to be the first ambush, then they need a camp here that could keep the men and horses warm until they were needed. The area to search turned out to be too great and they were too impatient to look properly. The other men could plan the camp.
They climbed the spine of land that created this valley and rode along the ridge to its end. From there they had a splendid view north and east and south over the lower valleys. They thought they could make out the path of the street down the valley, but the mists made if difficult to be sure.
Raynar scanned every direction carefully looking for the telltale smoke of a hundred cooking fires, but saw none. It could be that the army would come today, but there was an equal chance it would not come for a week. If he
allowed the truth to himself, there was an equal chance that the army would not come this way at all.
How had Thorold, the old Shire Reeve of Lincolnshire, put it. Battles were days and days of impatient boredom followed by a few hours of absolute terror. Had it only been four days since Thorold had told him William's plans for Chester. Had it only been four nights since he had held the lovely Anske naked in his arms. It seemed like weeks.
No wonder he felt exhausted. No wonder he was having nightmares. To leave the warmth of her silky skin and the way she kissed his lips and his manhood, and for what. To travel night and day through winter storms and in the company of wild and stinking men, so that he could perhaps, just perhaps, have one clear shot at William the Bastard.
If he were making a wager, he would give himself less than one chance in ten of getting a shot off. Of course, if he got the shot off, William would be dead, ten chances to one. He tried to think of what were the chances that he had even made it this far and now had the company of skilled men to help him. Perhaps it was long odds at Selby, but it was not long odds anymore. His nightmares were about more than that. What if he had the shot, and missed. Worse, what if he had the shot and froze. What would William do if he survived a plot to kill him by peasants. Would all of England share the fate of Yorkshire, and become a wasteland of frozen, starved corpses.
It was near noon by the time he and Jonas got back to Blackstone Edge. Alan was waiting for him with a dozen more men. They had just arrived and were on their way to the cave to get out of the wind and have a rest. Alan and he walked shoulder to shoulder down the notch in the bedrock that led towards the entrance to the cave. There was a giant shadow coming out of the cave, and Raynar felt suddenly very strange, as if one of his nightmares was coming to life. A face looked out of the hood at him and then the arms of a bear were around him. It was his boyhood friend John. John, the smithy of Hathersage. John the walking mountain.
Hugged close into the big man, he realized which nightmare had been triggered. It was the one from the night on the moor above the lead mine. It was the last time these men had been all together in front of a sink cave. It was the time when the three of them had found the body of Raynar's sister, raped and broken and murdered. He let himself relax in one of John's arms while Alan slapped him on the back.
Over the past two years John had become fast friends with Alan, while Raynar had been away following the pennants of the continuously failing English lords. The war with the Normans for these two was local and personal. It was a continuous battle against armed Norman patrols, to keep their local villages alive and their kin safe.
The thought suddenly came into Raynar's mind that the English lordling that had murdered his sister was the very first lord he had ever met that viewed the village folk as herds of animals. Now every shire had been invaded by Normans that shared that same evil and perverted view of villagers. It was freemen like John and Alan who were defending those villagers, not the English lords, and not the English earls, and not the Danish king.
One of the lads that had slept in the cave overnight broke into his thoughts. "I've found another cave," he said, "down the slope into that side valley. It's a big un." Jonas motioned to Raynar to stay with Alan, and he took some men and some picks with him to follow the lad.
"Rest for now. Warm yourselves and eat, and then I will show everyone what we have prepared for William." The inner cave was muggy and smelly but welcoming in it's warmth. Some of the men were leading horses out of the cave to give room to the new come horses that were wet and chilled. There was a smell or charred meat and sizzling fat, and the men that had just arrived were picking hot chunks of skin from the spit while they guzzled warmed but weak ale.
"We have blocked the street in four places but only two are traps," Raynar explained. "The first trap is in the last steep valley on the east side of the peaks. There we force them to cross a river, walk through thick valley bush, and then recross the river. That is where we must all go today to prepare the first ambush. Once we have fled from the first ambush, we can come straight here and wait.
We have created a second trap on the edge above us. In front of each trap we have created blockades to slow them down. Before they reach the first trap they have to traverse a landslide. To reach this second trap they must cross a crevice. Each will cost them hours and spread them out. Hopefully the leaders, with horses will be separated from the body of the army.
It is important that you two, and any others that will lead skirmishing groups, understand that this is not a battle. Already we have succeeded in our work. It will be almost impossible for the army to cross the high lands in one day. I pray that their day as our guests in the peaks will bring the curse of sleet upon them.
The work that is left is to try to kill their leaders. Especially to try to kill William and those close to him. Skirmishing tactics. Hide, shoot, run, regroup, but most important .... don't get caught or hurt. Hide from the scouts. They are not worth killing unless they threaten us. Use the terrain to escape the cavalry. They will lame their horses running them cross country on icy slopes. The heavy infantry we can outflank. They cannot keep up to us in their armour. Our only fear is any light infantry, such as other skirmishers, or being surprised by mounted scouts.
Reserve your best arrows for leaders or to save a life. We have not enough points to fight the army, so use slings, rocks, or run for it. Don't laugh when I say rocks. When you see our traps you will also see that the best weapons may be rocks."
"What do you suggest for grouping the men?" asked Alan.
"Separate our seasoned killers from each other. They are the most likely to loose a killing point so we should spread them out. Send three other men with each. The three's work will be to keep the assassin safe so he can concentrate on making his kill, and then to get him out of harms way afterwards. Our first shots will be our best chance of killing leaders, so we will need a signal so that we can shoot as one." Raynar turned at the sound of footsteps behind him. "Here is your food. We can do more planning once you have seen the traps."
Jonas came into the cave and sat beside them. "There is a better cave for the horses in the valley below. When we are fleeing from this place, we can slide down by foot to the other cave and be gone on our horses down the next valley before the Normans could coax their horses up and over and after us."
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With good food under their belts, twenty two men mounted and picked their way along the top edge of the black stones. Alan and John looked down at the wall of rubble and the box canyon for many minutes. "We may have to kill the scouts that first discover this. If they suspect a trap they will explore this game track and may turn the cavalry up to here to cover them." They walked slowly the quarter mile to where the cliff became level with the street and then they picked up their pace and made for the next trap.
A quarter mile before the crevice, Jonas led them up the hill above the street. From there they could look down on the crevice. Alan pointed out that those light of foot in the army could use this same by pass. To this Jonas replied, "Not if they have carts and heavy horses. Even those light of foot would be delayed until they found this path around."
When they reached the double ford, Alan became all smiles. He did not like the other two traps because of the openness of the moorland. Here at the fords, however, there was the chance of a forest ambush in the style that they used along their own roads. Alan immediately took over the organization, and Raynar was happy that he did so. When the Normans arrived, he did not want to be responsible for these men. He wanted to be able to focus all of his being towards one aim. William the Dead.
Alan sent two men up and along the ridge to keep watch down the valley to the east. He sent most of the men to comb the wooded edge of the valley for a good campsite for the night, preferably with a cave. He sent men to the top of the valley and back along behind where they wanted the campsite, to see what paths there were that they could use for escape. Meanwhile he and Raynar walk
ed the path from ford to ford to find the best vantage points and the best cover.
"Do you think we should try to hold either of the fords, or even both fords to trap men in between?" asked Alan.
"There will be no time. We will hide in the bush until the scouts have moved on. Behind the scouts will be the advance guard and road work parties. We hide from them as well. Once the group of leaders and nobles are across the ford then at a signal we will sneak forward and take them down. We will get one, or maybe two shots each, before all hell breaks lose."
He walked into one of the hides in pantomime. "So I am watching through the bush. A well dressed rider passes. They will be mounted to cross the ford in order to keep their feet dry. I hear the signal. I stand, nock, and release, and maybe nock and release again. My target falls. The men around him are now after me." Raynar turned around. "I make like a hare to the hillside behind the wood, running between my three watchers. They release at the men chasing me, and we all make the hillside." He trotted through the bush towards the hillside. The thorns were thicker the further he went from the river, but not impassable.
He continued with the pantomime. "The four of us scramble up the slope. The first one out of easy reach of Norman swords turns and shoots at the closest Norman. They would be fools not to stay in cover. We scramble up this hillside. See, the brambles thin as it gets steeper, and it is too steep for horses. That means two things. Horsemen can't chase me, and our horses must already be at the top of this steep section."
"That means that the horses must be hidden and then led down from behind that hill after the attack has begun," observed Alan. "We can use the miners for that. They did not sign on for fighting."
"They are Welsh. They brought their bows. They won't be pleased at being left with the horses," replied Raynar.