Hoodsman: Revolt of the Earls Read online

  "We owe you one, English," said one of the arbalesters. He was putting the feet back into the sack, probably to take back to his camp to show the others.

  With the truce over, the battle began anew. Now it was even more one sided as many of the Boulonnais pikemen had been injured in the last charge. Ralph's line of cavalry was now only half as wide as the regent's. This next charge could decide the battle, and could possibly be the end of Ralph's army.

  The two lines of cavalry began to move towards each other, gaining speed with each step. The infantry on both sides were also advancing. Perhaps since the longer line of the regent's cavalry was deemed so unfair, half of his cavalry wheeled from the main charge and aimed their lances at Ralph's infantry. Just before the two lines of cavalry met, the battle suddenly changed in pattern and focus.

  The pikemen and arbalesters now being charged by half of the regent's cavalry were not running for their lives. The pikemen were using the tactic they had used in that first charge and had their pikes angled out to meet the charge. But even this was different this time. There were arbalesters amongst the pikemen and they were loosing their bolts against the cavalry horses. Horse after horse was rearing or dropping as the bolts hit their chests, and well before any of them reached the pikemen.

  At short distances, an arbalest bolt has a power like that of a short throwing spear, and this power was destroying expensive horse flesh quickly and mercilessly. The pikemen did not need to be told what to do next. They used the hook side of their pole axes to hook onto the riders and then they dragged them down from the injured or halted horses.

  The regent's trumpets sounded to regroup his cavalry, but the half who had wheeled to attack the infantry were now fighting to control their injured horses or were lying next to their dying horses. The other half were entwined in personal combat with Ralph's cavalry. Regent Geoffrey sent his cavalry reserves to rescue the cavalry now being dragged off their mounts by the pikemen, but they met with the same fate. An arbalester is slow to reload, but all these Bretons had more than time enough to reload and to take careful aim at the next wave of horses.

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  The Hoodsman - Revolt of the Earls by Skye Smith

  Chapter 10 - Saving feet at Fagaduna in August 1075

  Trumpets on both sides of the battle were blaring, and truce pennants were being ridden back and forth across the battlefield and men were disengaging, though begrudgingly disengaging with a few last blows sneaked in. Bishop Regent Geoffrey was calling for a parley, and Earl Ralph consented to meet with him, and with their commanders in the middle of the battlefield.

  Meanwhile many men were using the truce to untangle knights limbs from horses limbs and saddles as quickly as possible. The biggest danger to the knights was not the warriors of the other side, but the massive warhorses that were wounded and enraged and mad with pain.

  Again young Raynar shed his weapons and walked onto the battlefield. He was called over to help some men free a knight's leg from the crush of his dead battle horse. "What are they discussing?" he asked one of the other men as they all heaved to raise the dead horse so another could drag the knight from under it.

  "They take issue with the arbalesters targeting the knights. See, they are sending for the Abbot, to hear and to judge. This could mean the excommunication of Ralph. Both Odo and Geoffrey are bishops, and an excommunication is within their powers, if there is cause." The two men winked at each other and followed in the Abbots footsteps to get closer to the commanders and perhaps hear what was being said.

  "They did it without my order," Ralph was saying over and over. He had sent for the captain of the arbalesters to explain himself. As the captain was a Breton, he did not grovel to the Norman lords. Instead he glared at them and stood tall, though he was not a tall man.

  The Abbot asked the commanders to hold their words while he asked the questions. "Captain, did you know of the Pope's edict forbidding the targeting of knights by arbalesters at the time when your men loosed their bolts."

  "I know it well, your grace. We all know it, as it is an old edict now."

  "Then you know that you risked your soul by this attack," said the abbot.

  "Why, we did not target any knights. You may inspect the body of each one if you must, but my men had strict orders not to target the knights for I know that edict well, as well as any man on this field. If any knight was hit by a bolt, then I assure you it was by accident."

  Regent Geoffrey himself yelled out in anger, "Look around the battle field. Look at the slaughter of horses and men by bolts. How can you deny it."

  "To my knowledge," the captain told the abbot, while ignoring the bluster of the Bishop Regent, "there is no mention of horses in the Pope's edict. We targeted only horses. The knights could have dismounted at any time with no fear of our bolts. If they had dismounted they would have been quite safe."

  The abbot sputtered and Warenne and Geoffrey complained loudly of legal trickery, but Ralph remained very quiet. The abbot decided that he needed to retire to study the edict, and he turned to walk back across the common to the abbey. Earl Ralph kept his silence and left the parley.

  Another noble approached from Hempton way, and it was then that Raynar had his first ever glimpse of King William's half brother, the odious Odo. He marked the face well, as a target for a future arrow. The bishops and earls and commanders all began venting their anger to each other, so all infantrymen in the area, from both sides, withdrew rather than risk being killed out of spite and temper.

  * * * * *

  That night a storm turned the battlefield into mud. The hoodsmen shivered under makeshift lean-tos and tried to keep the fires lit and the only thing that lightened the mood was the thought of how so many cavalry from both sides would be slaughtered tomorrow because the muddy fields would favour the infantry. The dawn brought a fog that chilled their already damp bodies to the bone. They were used to surviving in the rough without roofs, so they did not suffer so much as the rest of the Regents' army.

  They forced themselves to rise at first light and took a run along the stream to warm their blood and muscles, but were fully alert for the pickets of both armies. It would be foolish to be slain by accident. It was curious that they could see the picket posts across the stream, but never did a head poke out to watch them. Then it came to them. Earl Ralph's army had decamped during the storm.

  "We must tell the Normans," said a lad, and was laughed at for his misplaced loyalty by the more seasoned hoodsmen.

  "What is it to us if them buggers escape today's battle," a veteran told the lad. "They were sure to lose it. I'll tell you what though. There'll be a few pickets strung up on this side of the stream once Odo finds out that he has been cheated of a sure win."

  It was another hour before the mist lifted enough to see the empty camp across the river, and then all hell broke out. A few thousand of Odo's men, cold to the bone, had a quick piss, and began a forced march towards Norwich. The horses complained loudly at being forced up to speed in the slick mud, and even louder when they were forced to plough through the flooding stream.

  In less than an hour all the fighting men were gone. They left behind a sodden camp for the followers to pack up and move. The followers, of course, did not begin the move in any hurry, despite the hurry of the fighting men. They built good fires and cooked themselves a good meal of the choicest cuts of horse, and waited for the day to warm before they began their chores.

  The Regents' prisoners were better off than their army. To make them easy to guard overnight they had been housed in the abbey's tithe barn, which meant that they were the only men who had a warm dry night. The hoodsmen grabbed some food from one of the camp kitchens and then made for the barn because the clouds were threatening more rain. By sharing some jests and some of the food with the guards, they were allowed inside to make themselves comfortable.

  Inside there were about three hundred prisoners in all. They were organized and separated by clas
s. The knights and their men at arms were closest to the door because they were less likely to try to escape. In the middle was the largest group, the Boulonnais pikemen. At the far end were the Breton arbalesters.

  Raynar asked the guards where the footless men were, and was told that the monks had taken them into the abbey for caring. "They'll soon have more than they can handle once we start on this lot." snickered one of the guards.

  "You mean to take these men's feet as well. There are so many of them?"

  "Bishop Geoffrey says that traitors don't deserve two feet," said another guard. "They's lucky he ain't stretching their necks."

  Outside, the surgeons from yesterday were building a fire and heating their blades and their cauterizing irons. Other men were hauling heavy oak tables outside from the monastery to serve as cutting surfaces.

  Raynar spoke in an overly loud voice to some of his men, "Shit, there's a lot of men here that need moving to a port to ship home. Look at all those Boulonnais and Breton mercenaries. Hopefully the surgeons are smart enough to march them to the coast before they cut at their feet, otherwise Odo will be stretching a few of the surgeon's necks."

  He left the words hanging in the air to stir some thought. One of the surgeons came towards him. "You are the scouts from Lynn, yes," he said in bad English. When Raynar confirmed this in French, the surgeon switched to French and asked. "Where is the nearest port?"

  "Straight north seven miles to Wells."

  "Would you help our guards march the infantry prisoners to Wells?"

  "We could do that. Got any silver?"

  The surgeon promised them silver on their return from the mission.

  "So you will catch up perhaps tomorrow," asked Raynar, "Like, ahh, for the punishment of the infantry."

  "We come too."

  "Get yourself some other men then. I'm not willing to be a whipping boy for Bishop Geoffrey's wrath."

  "What do you mean?" asked another surgeon.

  "I heard his orders. Traitors must loose their right foot. The largest pack of traitorous dogs in this barn are those knights over there. They have oaths and honors from the king and from Odo, and now they bit the hands that fed them. These mercenaries are nothing. They fight for money. They chose the wrong side, but they aren't traitors."

  The surgeons spoke urgently to each other.

  "Tell you what will please everyone," Raynar told them. "We'll march the mercenaries to the coast, while you take the feet of the knights. Leave the footless the care of the good monks, as their rank deserves, and then meet us at the coast."

  And so it was arranged. The screams of agony and shame and rage of the captured knights echoed through the mist as the hoodsmen marched the Breton and Boulonnais prisoners north to the coast.

  "You're a fuckin trouble maker, you are," whispered one of the veteran hoodsmen while they rode point for the marching column. "Odo will have those surgeon's heads for maiming knights and lords."

  "Why should he. They were following Geoffrey's orders."

  "You know he didn't mean the knights. You know these Normans. Special dispensation for knights."

  "And you know me. Special dispensation for peasants. Now take four men and ride ahead to the coast and see if there are any Danish ships about. I'd like to get these men aboard and away before the surgeons catch us up."

  * * * * *

  Thorold almost choked on his ale and Canute howled in laughter when Raynar told them of how the arbalesters had tricked the knights. "I'll wager you chickens to cows that Earl Ralph used the arbalesters as the rear guard and the Regents' cavalry kept their distance all the way to Norwich castle." Thorold took another swig to sooth his throat and then said, "I know Norwich castle. It's not a big place, not large enough to hold the army that Ralph is bringing."

  Canute was calming his laughter. He smiled at them with his saintliest look. Finally Thorold could not stand his silence any longer and urged him to speak. Canute's voice was barely above a whisper, "My ships captured almost forty of Odo's longships at Southwold. We have crewed them with the Anglian Daneglish fishermen and they have been chartered by Ralph to move his army to the continent. My ships will escort them to keep them safe." Raynar and Thorold laughed aloud at the news.

  "I saved the best for last," the prince's cherub smile turned into open laughter. "We have sold Odo's supplies from the longships to Ralph at good price, except for the siege engines, which we dumped in deep water. Ralph can now hold Norwich castle for months while he decides where to move his army to. Especially now that the cavalry will keep their distance because of those Breton arbalesters. In the end, the two armies can do nothing but peck at each other."

  "And what of Cambridgeshire?" asked Raynar.

  "I will go and explain it all to the sheriff," said Thorold, "I think it is safe for him to send the fyrd home save for the wolfpacks that will keep Lynn's port safe. After all, there is still the fear that the Danish fleet may attacks us." Canute gave him a sour look which caused the others to laugh, which started a breathless belly laugh that was contagious to all of the men, and they could not stop laughing until they had tears in their eyes.

  "I will escort you to Cambridge, my friend," said Raynar, "for if the fyrd are to be sent home, then I have unfinished business with a woman."

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  The Hoodsman - Revolt of the Earls by Skye Smith

  Chapter 11 - A call to the fyrd from Arundel Castle in July 1102

  King Henry followed Raynar's advice and walked amongst the hundred Mercian bowmen that Raynar had gathered down on the banks of the River Arun. There was a cart loaded with barrels of ale and the carter was pouring it into jugs as fast as he was able.

  Since some of the bowmen had served him in Westminster and Winchester, and in the campaigns at Pevensey, Alton, and now Arundel, Henry recognized many by face, if not by name. He had spent the night creating his speech. It was short, it was simple, and it was in English.

  Everyone now had ale, so he began. "Men, come close and listen to my words. Sit if you wish so that those behind you can see." When they were settled he continued. "The purpose of my Coronation Charter was to bring peace to this kingdom. Past wrongs were to be forgiven, or at least pardoned, and all were to be given the chance of fresh starts and new beginnings. The laws and courts were to revert to Knut's in-common laws once more. There were many specific wrongs that were to be righted, such as women could no longer be forced into a marriage."

  He could see some nodding heads in the crowd. These men all had their pardons, but by virtue of their accepting his service in the Royal Archers. "I was a fool," he yelled out louder. "Half of the barons have ignored the wishes of my charter and continue to rule as if Rufus were still king." There were jeers.

  "Those half are the same turncoats that turned against me and brought Robert to Alton to take my crown from me. From us." He pointed his arm out at the crowd, "That is, until you lot scared the shit out of them with your bows." There were cheers and laughs.

  "The time has come to strip all of these turncoat barons of their ranks and their lands so they can no longer abuse our folk." He held up his hand to quiet the growing murmur. "But you have seen how long it has taken us just to take this one castle from Belleme the Impaler. Too long, and meanwhile he has paid the Welsh to harrow our folk in Staffordshire. I need your help to scare the shit out of these barons again, and to scare Belleme and his men into surrendering his other castles, and I need it soon."

  The men turned suddenly quiet. Henry walked amongst the ones sitting on the ground. "Bowmen of Mercia. I need you to ride to your villages and give a message to your fathers and your brothers and your cousins. I want you to tell them that if they want the pardons that I promised them, and if they want to live again under Knut's laws, then we need them to dig up their weapons and rally towards Staffordshire to push the Welsh back into Shropshire, and then meet me at Bridgnorth castle on the Severn so that we can scare Belleme's men out of their castles and shi
p them all back to Normandy where they belong."

  "Aye, be clear," said a tall blond man standing near the back, "are you wanting us to raise the fyrd directly. Earls and lords be fucked. Raise the fyrd out from under them?"

  "Yes," said Henry speaking directly to the man "exactly. Well put. Will you ride for me. Will you raise the fyrd in your village and get rid of these tyrants."

  "You supply the horse and some coin to buy the lads some ale, and I will leave today," offered the blond man.

  "You are just in a hurry to bonk your wife again." said the man beside him and the whole crowd laughed. "If you had a wife like his, you'd be in a hurry too. But aye. I too will try to raise the fyrd for you. Anything to be rid of the lords who are blocking my cousins' pardons. You say make for Staffordshire and kill Welshmen. Will there be food and shelter for us there?"

  "I will send a message to my sheriff in Stafford today. He will welcome you, especially if are pushing Welshmen ahead of you. We will meet at Bridgnorth in a month. I will bring the ale."

  Throughout the group, men were raising their hands as if they were volunteering, as if it was their idea to raise the fyrd. Henry raised his hand too. He had to yell to make himself heard. "Take your time in packing your kit else the quartermaster will be swamped with requests for horses, food, and coin. Travel in groups until you get close to your villages. Groups big enough so that you have a picket rotation when you camp. If anyone asks what you are up to, tell them you are Royal Archers on a well earned leave."

  There was nothing else to say and no voice loud enough to say it over the growing noise of men breaking into groups and making travel plans. Henry slumped down to the ground and sat between two lads who must have lied about their age to have joined the Royal Archers. Their ales were gone, and Henry hadn't touched his so he splashed some of his into their wooden bowls and they all drank it down together. Henry chuckled to himself at how angry the quartermaster would be with him within the hour.