The Archer's Castle: Exciting medieval novel and historical fiction about an English archer, knights templar, and the crusades during the middle ages in England in feudal times before Thomas Cromwell (7 page)

       “Aye, Thomas.  You’re right.  We took some big risks and I made a really big mistake by not holding back a reserve force.  And we should have had more spies and horsemen out there to warn us in case Baldwin had come another way.  And more horses; we should have had many more horses, so we could move our men about faster.”

       “Well done is done and we were lucky the Earl was so inept, God rest his useless soul.  Now what?”

       “Why now we get ourselves off to Restormel Castle and help John and Richard find a new lord for Cornwall and maybe a new bishop for the county as well.”

                             Chapter Three

       Thomas and I see to our wounded and then we move around from campfire to campfire joking with our men as they begin celebrating their victory by roasting sheep from Trematon’ flock.  Everyone is excited and happy – both for our victory and because in the morning many of the men will be going on with us to the late Earl’s seat at Restormel Castle.
Later this afternoon Thomas and I will have a more private victory dinner in the castle with Lady Dorothy and the equally excited children.  We’ve been promised lamb chops and new cheese.      

       By noon the next day the dead are buried and Thomas and I are on horses and riding towards Restormel Castle at the head of a column of hundreds of our men.  A number of wagons carrying our tents and unused supplies are traveling on the cart path with us. 

       Not all of our men are in our column, of course; a goodly number are remaining at Trematon to guard the castle and our prisoners and care for the wounded. 

       It is an interesting trip along a well-worn footpath and several times we see men running across the fields and through the woods.  They’re probably escapees from the Earl’s defeated army trying to get home.  We pay them no mind and wish them well.  Indeed, a few of them actually come to us and join our ranks when we happily shout and wave them in. 

       Without exception those who join us are hungry and unarmed - serfs and churls who were with Baldwin to fulfill their obligations. 
They apparently came in because we shouted at them to join us and they’re used to following orders.

       Restormel Castle comes into sight the next morning as we wade across the River Fowey.  It’s quite an impressive sight and Thomas and I are taken aback when we first see it in the distance on the high land overlooking the river. 

       As a castle Restormel is just plain different - it’s perfectly round and it’s perched up on a great mound of earth so that the whole surrounding countryside can be seen in every direction. 

       There’s also a fairly sizeable village next to the castle and it’s right on the cart path we’re traveling.  No doubt that’s where some of the castle’s farmworkers and servants live.

       When we get closer we can see that the castle is as strong as it looks.  Around its high stone curtain wall is a moat with a drawbridge - and around the whole of it including the moat is a second great circular earth and timber curtain wall and second moat and drawbridge.  Both drawbridges are up.

       “Getting us in there by force is not going to be easy.  So it’s a task for me to handle by myself as a bishop.” Thomas tells me with a grin. 

       “You and the men stay here while I go forward.”

@@@@@

       I’m by myself as I ride slowly up to first drawbridge.  “Hello the castle,” I shout.  “I’m Bishop Thomas.  Let me in.”

       Nothing happens so after a while I dismount and take a piss.  Then a couple of faces appear on the wall above the gate.  I’m just shaking my dingle when the gate opens a crack and a man in clothes of a field worker slips out and the gate quickly closes behind him.

       “I’m Bishop Thomas.  I have news about the Earl.  Let me in,” I once again shout across the moat.

       “The Earl’s dead” is the shouted rely.

       “Of course he’s dead.  He went against Prince John didn’t he?  And I know he’s dead for sure.  I buried him and said the prayers, didn’t I?  Now open the gate and let me in.  I need to talk to whoever is in charge of the castle.  Is that you?”

       “Of course, not.  Sir Miles is the Constable.”

       “Well take me to him man.  Get on with it.  And get me bowl of water while you’re at it.  I’m thirsty, aren’t I.”

       “Sir Miles is not here.  He’s with the Earl.”

       “If he’s with the Earl he’s dead I probably buried him and said the words for him too.  Who’s in charge here at the moment?  Is it the Earl’s wife? 

       “Not her.  She’s run off to her father this morning, hasn’t she?”

       Then a voice hails me from the top of timber wall next to the drawbridge.

       “Who are you and what do you want?”

       “I’m Bishop Thomas.  I’m here for Prince John and I want to talk to whoever is in charge of the castle.”

       “That’s me.  Robert.  I’m the Constable’s sergeant.”

       “Well drop the bridge and open the gate Robert Constable Sergeant.  We need to talk.”

       “I have my orders from the Earl himself to keep it closed.  I darest not.  No offense to you Bishop.”

       “None taken.  None taken.  But the man who gave you those orders is dead and buried.  So they no longer apply.  I’m here with Prince John’s new lord for the castle, Lord William.  If you don’t open the gate to him in the next five minutes you’ll be guilty of a treason most foul against your sovereign and you’ll be excommunicated before you are executed and burn forever in hell.  Now open the gate and save yourself.”

      A few minutes later and down comes the drawbridge and the gate opens.

@@@@@   

       Our men are pouring into the castle as Thomas addresses the Constable’s sergeant and a small group of Baldwin’s retainers gathered in the castle’s great hall. 
There are enough men here to hear his message.  They’ll soon spread the word.

       “Prince John sent Lord William, this man right here by my side, to take the Earl’s place at Restormel Castle.  I’m Bishop Thomas and I’m here representing Prince John.” 

       It’s all ox shit, of course.  Prince John wouldn’t know Thomas even if he leaped up and bit him in the ass.
 
But that’s what Thomas tells the wide-eyed sergeant and the castle workers including a couple of the survivors of Baldwin’s attack on Trematon who’d already made their way back to the castle. 
Must of run all the way, didn’t they?

       Not everyone is so easily gulled.  The local priest comes bustling in from the church inside the castle grounds and barely pauses long enough to hesitantly kiss Thomas’ ring before he starts asking questions.  He’s apparently the second or third son of a minor lord with a manor near Truro and full of himself.

       Ten minutes later he’s in full flight back to his church to organize prayers for all those who died when the treasonous earl attacked Edmund’s poor widow. 

       Restormel’s priest stops asking questions and leaves right after Thomas ignores him and proceeds to explain to the little gathering that I as their new lord am obliged by Prince John to take the head of anyone who supports the dead Earl’s treasonous behavior.  That does not apply and will not apply, Thomas assures them as I nod in solemn agreement, to good vassals such as themselves who loyally supported the dead Earl because he was their liege lord and will similarly pledge and honor their liege to Lord William as the new lord of Restormel. 

       Loyalty and adherence to tradition are important to both Prince John and Lord William and will be rewarded, Thomas explains as I once again nod my head in solemn agreement. 

       Tradition is important be damned.  I’ll not have my son a serf as Thomas and I were berthed just because serfdom is an “English tradition and supported by the church” as I once heard Richard say when we were sitting around a campfire at Acre.”

       An exception will be made in the case of the local priest, Bishop Thomas assures his listeners - since he not one of the late Earl’s vassals, and is obviously a man of the cloth; he’ll be burned if he is not loyal to Restormel’s new lord.

       I smile and nod as I listen.  Thomas is bending the truth, of course, as a man must sometimes do.

                              Chapter Four

      Life at Restormel slowly regains normalcy in the fall and early winter.  Revenge and recriminations do not occur.  To the contrary, the old Earl’s vassals, every single one of them from the two surviving knights to the tenants and serfs who work for them and the knights who fell with Baldwin, learn they will not be prosecuted for being the loyal vassals of the late Earl.  Everyone is assured that Prince John and Lord William value such loyalty and will reward it. 

       I also pass the word that it will be instantly fatal if I ever find a slave in Cornwall or a serf is not allowed to make his mark and become one of my men or join the Company of Archers. 

      
What I don’t tell them is that in a few months when things settle down the serfs will also all be freed.

@@@@@ 

      
It’s a busy time.  Harold sends a messenger from Falmouth reporting that several of our ships, both of the galleys, are back in port and returned loaded with seasick recruits who are as hungry as wolves and quickly recovering.  He’s heard of our victory at Trematon and wants to know if it’s now okay for the men and Sir Percy to go ashore. 

       We decide that Thomas will stay at Restormel and that I’ll ride straightaway to Trematon to get George and then on to Falmouth to give Harold his orders and make sure he got my orders to set Sir Percy free. 

      
Of course I’m going to ride; the channel’s much too rough to take small boat down the River Fowey and try to row to Falmouth; we might get blown out into the Atlantic and take weeks to get back or worse.

       Before I leave we make a number of decisions.  One is to make Restormel our headquarters for the winter and perhaps permanently. 
It is, after all, obviously much more defensible than Trematon.
Another is to move the ships from the River Fal to the River Fowey so they’ll be closer to Restormel.  The Fowey runs nearby even though it is much too shallow this far upstream to get even the galleys all the way up to Restormel. 

@@@@@

        William is off to Trematon and Falmouth by the time the Abbot and a couple of monks from the Bodmin monastery arrive to kiss my ring.  Rufus, the Bodmin Abbot, has heard that Restormel has a new lord and he’s here with his brother monks because he wants the land back that Baldwin’s predecessor expropriated and “the evil Lord Baldwin refused to return despite it being stolen most foul.” 

       Abbot Rufus is sure that I as a distinguished bishop of the church understand the monastery’s needs and will do the right thing by helping the Abbot convince William to return his lands. 

       “Oh yes.  I do understand.  I do indeed.  I’ll certainly help,” I assure the Abbot and his delegation. 

      
Monks are useless thieves and no mistake; kept me mum and me hungry with their demands for food to get their prayers didn’t they?

       Bodmin’s monks are no more than out the door and severely disappointed by William’s absence when the Archdeacon of Cornwall shows up.  He’s come all the way from Exeter and wants lands and money “for the perpetual prayers of the church.”

       The archdeacon is absolutely astonished to be greeted by a bishop with a ring to kiss but he’s obviously a fast thinker.  He’d heard about my appointment but hadn’t realized I was already here.  He’s arrived intending to relieve Baldwin of his sins by accepting coins and land in exchange perpetual prayers for him in the local monasteries and churches. 

       He quickly changes his tune when he discovers the Baldwin is neither among the living nor greatly lamented.  Without missing a beat he suggests a donation to the church, which he would be happy to accept, for the prayers needed to “consecrate” the new lord and enlist God’s help in carrying out his duties. 

       Alas, I inform him with appropriate sorrow and sincerity, “it’s a pity Earl William did not know you were coming to Restormel or I’m sure he would have waited to greet you and accept your generous offer.  But I’m sure you’ll be most pleased to know that I’ve already consecrated Lord William in his new responsibilities and prayed extensively with him for his success.” 

       “But more prayers never hurt do they, Archdeacon, and I’m sure he’d want them.  Unfortunately you’ve just missed him.  Lord William is off to Trematon and Falmouth to see after his affairs.  Perhaps you can find him there and pray with him.” 
Though pigs will fly before you’ll get a penny or an acre from either of us.

       Both the Abbot and the archdeacon get the same reassuring answers to what I assure them is their “very reasonable” requests for money and lands – I will personally recommend their requests to William since I am sure the churches in the Holy Land will get a share of the resulting benefits.  They both enthusiastically agree that my “request” for a cut is an absolutely splendid idea.