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Authors: Charles Randolph Bruce

Games of Otterburn 1388 (15 page)

BOOK: Games of Otterburn 1388
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“The whole garrison, I reckon, Milord,” replied the knight.


They
followin

ye?”

“Aye, Milord.”

“And did ye see anything of our booty contingent?”


Must’a
been
on another path,” answered the knight.

The few knights close by and the two newly arrived knights followed their liege lords to the wood where the warriors who had gone up the ladders and taken the castle were resting.

“Got more fun for
ye
good men!” announced William as he came to the thick of the camp. “Just
gonna
be a skirmish then we’ll have them all dead,” announced William in a casual but loud manner.
“Knights in front.
Archers second.
Banner bearers third.
Spear men fourth and foot behind them. No horses!”

“Ye men assigned to prisoner and livestock parties stay to yer duties,” ordered Robert realizing William had the event well in hand.

The men scrambled as they formed their positions. Within minutes they were ready. With their shields glistening in the afternoon sun and the colorful banners fluttering over their heads they looked invincible.

Robert and William rode their horses to the center of the line. Their respective squires carried the banners of their liege lords and stood their horses on the outer sides of the nobles.

The timing could not have been better.

The Appleby garrison suddenly appeared on the far side of the field.

The castle seneschal was surprised to see the Scots in good array and awaiting his arrival. He did know that there would be more men than what he had but he was not prepared to see how many.

“Spread out!” ordered the seneschal already knowing it was going to be a disaster.

“Earl Robert and Sir William moved out front of the army. They all pushed deeper into the field.

“They’re not horsed,” said Appleby’s second in command.

“You
a’figurin
’ that an advantage to us?” asked the seneschal who was frankly in a quandary.

“Reckon they’d be fool enough to run on us?” asked William.

“Fool or not, they’re still mounted,” said Robert.

The two stalwarts stopped before they got half way between the tree line and the far side of the field.

“That ye seneschal?” shouted out Robert.

“‘Tis, Stewart,” he answered. His men were still getting into position.

“Where’s Baron Clifford?”

“Not here.”

“And ye’ll be
diein
’ here without benefit of him
seein
’ yer brave warriors in the fray?”

“I am
actin
’ surrogate,” shouted the seneschal across the way. “I am instructed to return the coin given to you yesterday for you have behaved unworthy and burnt this castle to the ground.”

“William burnt it, not me!” explained Robert. “He burnt it ere I got back to stay his hand from the task.”

“Nevertheless, ‘tis burnt.”

“Come as ye will,” said Robert. “We are ready.”

Appleby’s second in command leaned over and advised, “I think we should run them over with our horses.”

“Best plan you got?”

“You got better?”

The seneschal breathed deep, drew his sword, looked back to see if his men were ready.

Robert and William walked their horses back to their men then wheeled to face their on comers. “Reckon they
are
that foolish.”

“Reckon ye durst not feel so weepy eyed for them for they are here to kill ye, Robert,” advised William who then drew his own sword and adjusted the strap on his shield.

The men heard a single war whoop followed tight by a massive roar.

“Get back,” ordered Robert to his squire. Both banner bearing squires withdrew into the ranks as the army moved forward to close the space.

The Appleby men kicked their horses hard and came for the Scots.

The archers drew back and released their hundred arrows nocked in the taut strings of their longbows. Without looking to see their landing places they pulled a second arrow from the ground in front of them and let that flight of sorties fly. Then they saw the results of the first flight as the English fell from their saddles and their horses fell to the ground from the rain of deadly barbs. The second flight came and more fell wounded then they withdrew so the spearmen could come forward in front of the knights.

The seneschal came straight for Robert who kicked his horse to a trot and did not deny the English warrior his chance at his supposed due.

Robert came to the right side of the English horse and slammed his sword hard onto the white shield with the diagonal blue bar. He could see a definite impression in the shield but the seneschal held it steady and got a slam of his own on Robert’s shield. Robert wheeled as did the seneschal and they traded blows once again. Robert remembered what William had said about not underestimating the foe. He wheeled again and kicked his charger hard in the ribs and with three deft sword strikes the seneschal was falling to the ground.

Robert somehow hoped he would live but that thought was dashed when another English knight’s free running destrier stomped the man on his chest knocking the wind, blood and life from his body in a single step.

William used his goodly bulk to hit a passing Englishman across the back of the neck. His chain mail held but the stroke broke the man’s neck and he flew off his fast going horse.

The men-at-arms moved ahead of Robert and William and using their long spears they pounded the English warriors off their mounts while others of their ranks used their swords and daggers to make short work of their lives.

The English fought back as hard as they could but in the long run they were no match for the well trained and disciplined Scots who lost only seventeen to death and wounding while there was but five of Clifford’s English left who yielded to Robert and William.

The five were sent back to Appleby with an unwritten message for Baron Clifford. He became angrier than ever.

At first notice Maude found a hiding hole where she could not be found but she did hear the screams of the scullion servant that had been snatched up by the hair to be punished in her stead. She prayed in hushed fearful whispers for forgiveness for her hiding and for courage to achieve her bloody revenge.

August 15 - Early Morning

The Countryside North of
Durham

 

It was before daylight when Mungan awoke. He stretched his sore arms and stood. His wool covering began to move. He pulled it back revealing Adara’s curly head.

“Ye
sleepin
’ ‘til full sunup?” he grumped in a teasing manner.

She sat up and smiled at her savior.

“Most of the camp is aroused
a’ready
,” he said, “Ye’ll have to hurry.”

She hopped up fast and Mungan rolled the blanket.

She went a few paces away and raising her long dress, squatted.

Mungan began to saddle his warhorse and felt lost without his spear he had carried for the past year or so. He was figuring to whittle another when he got home but the highlands of
Scotland
were a long way off. His sword skills were not near what he could do with a fourteen foot spear with his weight behind it.

“Ye got a poke of oats?” asked Adara coming to Mungan.

He lifted the flap on his pouch strung to his waist inviting her to take what she wanted and she did.

“Need water ere ye choke,” he advised handing her a skin of water.

She gladly took the liquid and washed down the brief repast. “Ye
a’havin
’” she asked.

“Still full of the beef,” he said bridling the horse.

“Ne’er ate so much in a good while,” she commented as she pulled the saddle’s belly strap tighter.

“Ye like
raidin
’?” he asked.

A smile broke across her face. “I like it,” she admitted. “English treated me poorly.”


A’gettin
’ them back, ye
figurin
’?” he asked as he checked the cinch and tightened it more. “They blow up their bellies so they don’t get too squeezed,” he explained.

“Like
gettin
’ them back, I do,” she said in a vengeful way. “Ne’er liked
bein
’ a slave. Reckon I’m
yer
slave now.”

“I hain’t got slaves,” he said as he climbed aboard his horse.

“I ne’er wanted to be one, neither,” she answered.

He offered his arm and she gladly took it, slipped her bare right foot into the stirrup and swung herself onto the horse’s rump behind the saddle. “Ye reckon I could have some boots from
a dead
English?” she asked.

He nudged his horse forward as others in his contingent moved out of the trees to the open ground.

“We’ll see,” he answered.

As the contingent of reivers emptied the area they left naught more than the hide and bone carcass of four bovines hanging by their hind legs from a low branch of a tree close to an ash pit that still smelled of cooked red meat and drippings.

The twelve hundred man army again ran fast and stretched wide.
On their way north they reived as plenty as they could find.
The word of their coming had spread overnight and folks in the path of the proposed devastation had taken their most valuable possessions and fled. Many of those people who were not well liked by their neighbors somehow failed to get the word and were caught by surprise.

When the army drew close to the
Tyne
River
and to the lands of the Umfraville’s the army was ordered to close order and two abreast. The same peasants who were working the fields when the Scots went south were still placidly working as the Scots returned.

James Douglas was the first to push into the water telling George and John to hold the army and plunder on the edge of the river. He rode his horse alone to the other side and when he came up on the shore he was suddenly set upon by five knights.

George and John froze until they saw
Douglas
ride to the mounted men.

BOOK: Games of Otterburn 1388
3.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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