The Archer's Gold: Medieval Military fiction: A Novel about Wars, Knights, Pirates, and Crusaders in The Years of the Feudal Middle Ages of William Marshall ... (The Company of English Archers Book 7) (12 page)

       That had been Thomas's advice last night as we sat around the long table in Restormel's great hall.  And Thomas repeated it once again to me before he climbed aboard his galley. 

       Then we all watch and wave as Thomas swings his leg over the rail of Rolf's galley and makes his way through the chickens and sheep stacked up everywhere on its deck. 
Rolf's galley is crowded with supplies because it's a long way to Rome and the fewer food and water stops that have to be made the better.

       Thomas's galley had already drifted down the river and was out of sight around the bend when we watched and waved once again as Martin Archer repeated the process with the galley he is taking out to Cyprus and on to Constantinople to be the sergeant of its station .

       As soon as Martin's galley cast off, and even before it got to the bend in the river, the two galleys I'll be taking to Dover tomorrow came up to the dock and started loading supplies for my departure in the morning. 

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       I won't need nearly so many supplies and livestock for my relatively short voyage to Dover.  But I'm taking no chances - I'm taking a lot of living chickens and sheep and other provisions because I don't know how long our galleys will be without access to decent food.  King John is not famous for providing for his men.

      The supplies I'll be taking are already being prepared for loading. I can hear the bleating of the sheep we'll be carrying.  They're in the holding pen next to the dock. 

       This afternoon some of the sheep will be butchered and then, in the morning as soon as the sun comes up, the rest of them will have their hamstrings cut to nobble them so they can't move about when they're piled up on our decks.  They'll last longer that way won't they?

       We finished waving our farewells and walk back together up the cart path to Restormel as soon as Martin's galley cast off and drifted around the bend in the river and passed out of sight. 

       There are quite a number of people on the path with me:  Helen and her sisters and their infants, George and the boys and Ranulph Priestly who learns them when Thomas is not available, and Peter who will be in charge in Cornwall while Thomas and I are away. 

       That's when I finally realize how big my family has become - and there's not a thing I would do to change it.

                              Chapter Fourteen

       It is the second day June in the year of our lord 1202 when William takes leave of the sisters and sets off with two galleys full of sailors to meet the King John and William Marshal at Dover Castle.

       The channel was unusually calm and the two galleys made good time from Cornwall.  They follow one right behind the other as their crews row them into the crowded Dover harbor on a bright and sunny Thursday afternoon. 

      What is instantly obvious to William and his men as they enter the harbor is that something big is underway - there is no room at the dock and the harbor is packed with all kinds of ships from little fishing boats to big cargo cogs. 

      Sailors idling on the ships in the harbor watch as Edward from Portsmouth, the snaggly toothed four stripe sergeant captaining William's galley, finally finds a place to his liking and orders an anchor heaved over the side to take it. 

       The other galley comes in behind them, throws out its own anchor, and then pays out its anchor line until it is positioned next to Edward's.  Sailors quickly lash the two galleys together. 

       William came ashore in the galley's dinghy after eating some bread and cold chicken. Water parties from both galleys are already on the beach with water skins. 

       All of the men, including William, are in identical brown tunics with long sleeves.  The only difference is that sailors have brown stripes sewn on the front and back of their tunics to designate their rank and the Marines have black stripes.  It's hard to tell them apart unless you know what to look for.

       William's men are ashore to fetch water from the little fresh water stream that runs into the harbor. They know they're supposed to carry the skins upstream until they come to where there is no one is further upstream to piss or shite into it.  And he's going with them to be sure they do. 

      But before I do anything else I need to report in to the King or William Marshall.  That's what William is thinking to himself as he vaults over the very front of the dinghy to keep his leather sandals from getting wet.

       A very nervous pair of three stripe sailor sergeants are waiting for him at the water's edge - obviously the men commanding their galley's water fetching party.

       "Captain, me and John here have a problem," the older and probably more senior sergeant says even before my feet hit the beach.

       "Some lords and such with colored clothes and feathers in their caps, young'uns they was, came over and asked us what we were doing.  When we told them we was going upstream to get clear water they told us not to leave the beach."

       "They said if the water here was good enough for them it was good enough for us."

       "They say why?"

       "No Captain, they didn't, just that we shouldn't leave the beach.  I think they was just idlers trying to act important, impress each other and such like that.  But we didn't know what we should do so we waited for you."

       "You did the right thing by waiting.  That was a good decision."

       "Now you and John go on upstream with your men and get good water the way you were told to always do.  But don't argue them if they come back and tell you to stop - just stop and return to your ships immediately and send word to me." 

      
Damn.  I wonder what really happened and why.

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      "Where's the king and his lords?" William inquires pleasantly of some idlers sitting at the end of the dock.  Soldiers and servants from the look of the clothes on them.

       "Up to the castle" one of the older ones said as he spit out part of the piece of grass he was chewing on and nodded toward the huge fortress on the nearby hill.

       "Much obliged to you, I'm sure" William responded and touched his knitted sailor's cap in a semi-salute.

       The man nodded back and then surprises him. "You're himself from Cornwall aren't you?  I've heard about your clothes and stripes." 

       William smiled and gave him another little salute as he turned and began following the track from the dock up to the castle.

       It's quite a walk up the hill to the fortress.  It's quite large and impressive.  Wouldn't want to have to take it; that's for sure. 

       When I reach the gate in the castle wall there is a group of nobles and knight standing around and talking and laughing.  They're mostly soft young dandies from the looks of them, do-nothing idlers going to war on a lark. 

       They clearly haven't heard about our clothes and stripes.

       "Oh look, here comes one of the serfs I saw hanging about on the beach to get water.  You there.  Get you gone."

       "Sorry, Sir knight, but my orders are to report to King John or Sir William Marshall," I say as I trudge past them.

       "You, you there.  Didn't you hear my order?" 

       I ignore the shrill call and keep on walking across the bailey toward what appeared to be the main entrance to the keep.  I don't look back as I walk but I can sense they've begun following along behind me. 

      
This feels like trouble.  I instinctively flex my arms to release my wrist knives.

       The gentry follow me but no one makes a move until just before I enter the door into the castle.  Then I begin hear them making increasingly snide remarks to each other about my dress and impertinence. 

       They're just high spirited and baiting me.  So I ignore them as I enter and make my way across the well worn stone floor to the priest sitting behind a wooden table with a stack of parchments.  But that soon changes.

       "I ought to whip you.  In fact I think I will." 

       That's what I hear behind me with a rather threatening and arrogant tone.  First my men and now this - it's too much.  

       With that I stop and turn around.  The man delivering the threat is a big simpering fool wearing embroidered clothes and some kind of fancy green cap with a feather in it.  He's probably some useless lord's son who is full of himself and used to bullying the serfs on his father's manor. 

      
Enough of this ox shite.

       "Best you keep your gob shut about whipping serfs, you fool - otherwise I'll cut your dingle off and stick it up your arse." 

       Then I turn back to priest behind the table and give him my name, but not loud enough for the dandies behind me to hear.  They had stopped in surprise at my words and are whispering to each other with their heads close.

       "William of Cornwall to see the king or William Marshal," I tell the priest.

       "Ah yes, we've been expecting you, Earl William.  Follow me please."

       The priest leads me down a long corridor to a bare room in which a number of other men are waiting including a priest and a couple of men in foreign looking clothes.  One of them has obviously just finished pissing against the wall. 

       Everyone in the room looks up hopefully as I walk in. But I'm not whoever it is they hope to see so they just stare at me for a moment without a nod or smile, and then drop their eyes when I stare back.

       Then there are more footsteps and we all look up as the dandy in the feathered green cap and his followers come through the door. 

       "Did you name me a fool?" the bully with the green cap demands of me.

       "Mmm. Yes I believe I did," I tell him as I turn to look at him. "But now that I've heard you and see you and your friends more clearly I think that perhaps I might have made a mistake - should I have named you a moron instead?" 

      
Stay calm, William.  Stay calm.  Even so, I again flex my arms under my tunic to push my wrist knives up into place as my priestly brother taught me so many years ago.  Four of them?  I can take these four softs if I move first and fast.

      The idlers being entertained by Green Cap just stand there and look at me with exaggerated poses of disdain and surprise. 

       They are obviously enjoying the spectacle and can hardly wait to see what happens next.  They are all well dressed in bright clothes with feathers in their hats. 

       In a word, they look like lords' useless sons and I certainly do not - I'm wearing a sailor's cap and the same light brown linen tunic as the men they harassed on the beach except for the seven black stripes across its front and the back.  

      Green Cap couldn't resist being a bully.

       "It's hard to believe you're here with your betters.  But I'm sure you'll be effective against the French - They'll drop dead of laughter at seeing you?"

       There were amused titters from the men he was performing for.

       I was rapidly getting into a foul mood.  I don't like gentry who bully serfs, never have.  So I turned to one of the tittering and amused men and asked quite pleasantly with a nod of my head to Green Cap.

       "I see you've brought your fool to the king's muster to entertain the soldiers.  What's his name?  Does he just suck your dingles or just do little tricks?"

       "I'm George of Frodsham." Green Cap said furiously as he looked to his fellows for their acknowledgement and beamed when they smiled and nodded back.

       "And you're lucky you're not gentry or I'd challenge you here and now and kill you.  But you're not so I think I'll just whip you for your insolence."

       "Oh but I am gentry, you moron.  I'm the Earl of Cornwall and I accept your challenge because you interfered with my men and because you are, well, both traitorous and stupid and thus of no use to the king and his army."

       "And as for the time and weapons I get to choose since you made the challenge, so let's meet ...."

       I don't finish what I'm saying because there is a great stirring at the door and in walks King John and William Marshal.  Everyone bows deeply and doffs their hats.  The hostility in the air cannot be missed.

      "What's going on here?' the King demands.

       I answer quickly before anyone else has a chance to tell a different story.

       "This man, Your Majesty, is a traitor trying to weaken your army.  He just tried to stop my men from loading fresh water on your galleys and then he tried to prevent me from reporting to you." 

       "When that failed to stop me from coming to help you he insulted me and threatened to whip me and challenged me to a duel in hopes of killing me.  He's no friend of you or your army." 

       "Is what he says true?"  the King demands incredulously as he looks around.  Everyone reluctantly nods including Green Hat. 
What a fool.

        "We was just having some fun," one of them mumbles.

       I saw an opportunity to end things in a hurry while Green Cap is just standing there in embarrassed amazement.  He's a bully and he and his admirers are just now starting to realize that the results of their bullying may turn out to be very different than they expected.

       "Instead of wasting time, this traitor and I could try the matter here and now and let God decide whose cause is just, Your Majesty - yours or his.  Either way is acceptable to me so long as I have Your Majesty's complete approval." 

       As I said that I moved closer to Green Hat and poked my finger at his chest to identify him.

       The king looks at William Marshal who shrugs his approval. 
I think they're both intrigued by what will happen next.

       The King doesn't say a word, and then finally nods his approval.

       "So it is all with your approval, Your Majesty, that God will decide this matter here and now and there is no felony if I immediately kill this traitor or he kills me?"

       King John nods his agreement and I bow to him in return and turn towards my green capped foe with a friendly smile on my face and a shrug of my long tunic - and before he can blink my double edged wrist knives are out of my sleeves. 

      One goes into his neck from the side and other straight into his throat.  Then I give them both a hard jerk to increase their cuts.

       I hold him up by the knife handles for a few seconds and we look into each other's eyes.  He has a surprised look in his eyes and doesn't know that he's already dead.  Then I jerk out my knives and step back to prevent his spurting blood from fouling my tunic and shoes

       He stands there with both hands to his throat and surprise in his eyes; and then he staggers a bit to get further away from me and sits down. 

       As I step back from him I doff my cap and bow respectfully to King John whose mouth and eyes are wide, and turn to the shocked group of dandies. 

       They're standing with their mouths open and watching in horror as their late jester and serf bully falls all the way over on to the floor and his legs begin their final trembles. 
You won't be bullying and whipping any more serfs, will you?

       After I bow to the King I turn back to watch the bully do his dying for a moment and then point to one of his friends, the one who seemed most appreciative of his efforts to bully me, and give him an order. 

       "You were his second.  Get rid of this traitor's body and deliver his armour and horses to my supply party on the beach next to the dock before the sun goes down.  If I have to come for them I'll be taking yours as well." 

       And then stabbing my finger in turn to each of the others I say "and yours and yours and yours - it's time for you lot to abandon your idle and traitorous ways and support your king." 

     Then I turn to the king and again doff my cap and again bow very respectfully and report in to the king..

       "I've brought two fully crewed war galleys from Cornwall as you ordered, Your Majesty; and three hundred and twenty of England's finest sailors and my best two sergeant captains." 

       "They're the fastest and safest galleys in England and will be assigned to you until you release them. My sergeant captains and their crews would be honored to carry you safely back and forth between England and France."      

                          Chapter Fifteen

       William spends the next two months staying out of everyone's sight and mind while his two galleys move back and forth across the channel to help carry the king's army from Dover to Calais. 

       He does this by simply staying as far away from the king and Sir William Marshal as possible and avoiding wherever the gentry are congregating to seek the king's notice and favor - and by merely appearing to be one of the galley's crew members when he is on a galley carrying passengers. 

       It works.  No one thinks to tell him to accompany the king's army when it marches into France so he doesn't. 

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       William's tour of duty ends when the king decides to stop feeding his army and return to Windsor after decisively winning a battle with the French at Mirebeau.  It was a great victory for the king at the castle where his French mother had been besieged and in danger of being captured. 

       Perhaps even more important to the king, and the reason he goes home to celebrate, is that his victory at Mirebeau greatly solidified his hold on the English throne - for in winning the battle he took many prisoners including his cousin Arthur who was the son of one of his older brothers and a rival whose claim to the throne of England is supported by the French. 

       He also captures Arthur's older sister who would also have a serious claim to the English throne if Arthur died. He never frees them.

       As is the tradition of the day, when a king leaves a military campaign and stops feeding his army, the campaign is over and the army quickly disintegrates. Everyone who can make their way home does; those who can't either starve or become outlaws or join a mercenary band and travel to another war.  William and his sailors row for Cornwall.

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       William's return to Cornwall early in August of 1202 ends a summer of boredom and endless archery practice to pass the time of day.  He's pleased to be reunited with the sisters' and their howling toddlers, surprised to see how much George has grown, and happy to be busy planning for his annual trip to spend the winter in the Holy Land.  This year he'll be taking Tori with him. 

       After much debate it is decided that more attention needs to be paid to Cornwall.  Reports have surfaced suggesting justice is not being done properly in the courts of some of the hundreds and that serfdom has been reestablished in some of the manors and tin mines.  There is also talk that the widows and orphans in some of the parishes are starving.