English Knight (3 page)

The words were not addressed to me but they were intended for my ears. Osric nodded to me as Egbert rolled into his blanket.  “We move away from the fire.  Let us find a tree to stand next to.  Wrap your cloak tightly about you.”

As we stood some thirty paces from the glow of the fire and I shivered I wondered what this danger was.  I went to speak but Osric shook his head and held his finger to his lips.  I was learning to heed these warriors.  I was in their world now.

It was my horse which alerted us.  He whinnied. Osric touched my arm and then drew his sword. He pointed at my eyes and then the forest. He wanted me to watch. I nodded to show that I understood. He walked back to the camp fire; I assumed to wake the others. Where was this danger?  I peered into the forest.  I could see nothing! Then I caught the slightest of movements. Had I not been warned of danger I might have thought it an animal of the night but Osric’s touch had set my senses alight.

I saw a shadow moving towards the fire. I was hidden by the tree and I stared as the shadow became a man and I saw that he had a long curved blade in his hand. Other shadows began to move towards the camp. I began to step forward when I felt Osric’s touch on my arm.  He shook his head and led me away from the fire and into the forest.  For a big man he was silent. I could now see the ten or so men who walked towards the fire.  It looked as though my father and the others had not been woken or they had, at least, not risen.

I raised my sword but Osric shook his head again.  What was he waiting for? I stared in horror as the men walked into the camp and stood over the blankets. When would Osric do something? As if he had read my thoughts he nodded to me and, lifting his sword he ran at the nearest warrior. I pulled my arm back and stabbed at the man nearest to me.  He had only been two paces from me and my sword sank into his flesh.  I felt it grind against bone and it made me shudder.  I pulled it out.  The man turned and raised his sword to me.  He was not dead! Osric’s sword slashed around and sank across his back. The man dropped at my feet dead.

I looked up and saw that my father and his oathsworn had risen like wraiths and their attackers lay dead at their feet. I saw the last two assassins as they ran into the forest.  I was going to follow when Osric’s ham like fist grabbed my arm.  “Let them go.  They can do no more. Fetch the bodies into the light and let us examine them.”

The eight bandits were searched and money and weapons taken from them. My father looked at me for signs of injury. He nodded when he saw that I had none. “You have had your first brush with death.  What have you learned from it?”

I looked at the dead men. “That I can see better in the dark than I thought.”

Osric shook his head, “That is not the lesson you should take from this. If you have an enemy and the chance to kill him then do so or he will kill you.  Had I not been there then you would be lying dead in the forest and not him.” He put his arm around my shoulder. “You did not like the feeling as the blade ground against the bone.”

“How did you know?”

“It was the same for all of us when we first killed.  If you stab upwards then you will avoid many bones. Still you did better than I could have hoped.  You did not make a noise in the forest and that is a good thing.” He pointed to my horse. “And he is a fine animal.  He warned us.  He would make a good scout.”

And that was how my horse got his name.  He became Scout.  He seemed to like it and responded every time I used it.  Of course Wulfstan gave me the trick of giving him a treat of an apple or patting him on the head as well but that night saw a bond between my horse and me I could not have believed back in Constantinople.

We had been riding for a day when I finally asked Wulfstan about the attack.  “Why did Osric let those two bandits escape?”

“They will spread the word that we are not easy victims. We will now reach Lyons safely.”

“And was it right to strip their bodies of their valuables and weapons?”

“Spoils of war, Master Alfraed. You take what you can when you can. Who knows what awaits us?”

My education began as we descended to Lyons.  Lyons would be the end of the Holy Roman Empire and then we would begin our journey across Frankia. We would draw close to the lands of England and Normandy; our final destination.

Lyons was a border fortress. It was the most familiar town I had seen so far. I recognised the hands of the Roman builders everywhere. Here were the knights of the Holy Roman Emperor.  They looked a little different to the knights from home but I recognised them for what they were.  They wore mail here but the helmets were full face helmets.  My father and his retainers still used the old fashioned open faced helmet with the nasal. They had the kite shields my father had faced in the wars in the east.  My father and his men still clung to their round shields.  When I saw the knights I felt happier.

It seems that my father’s name was known in Lyons and we got to stay in the great hall of the castellan, Hugo de Montfort. He was of an age with my father. Count Hugo called me over. “Well, boy, will you be a warrior like your father?”

“I hope to be a knight, sir.” I was not very happy about being called a boy.  I had a beard and a moustache; I had bedded women!

Count Hugo looked in surprise.  “You do not wish to stand in a shield wall as these fine fellows once did?” he did not wait for my reply. “I fought for the Emperor when I was a young lance for hire.  How well I remember your father standing like a rock with his warriors beside him. The Normans shattered their lances and had their hearts broken.  They could not penetrate the wall of wood and steel.”

My father laughed and suddenly seemed young again, “And then you and your horsemen drove them from the field and returned rich men.”

Count Hugo gave a loud guffaw and spread his arm wide, “And then I came here to become the most powerful castellan on this side of the border!” He quaffed his wine. It was good wine.  It was deep and red.  It was so rich you almost needed a spoon to drink it. His voice became lower and more serious. “You have a most difficult part of your journey to come. King Henry spends much of his time in Normandy. Rouen is his main castle.  But you will have to cross France first. Louis the Fat is not the king his father was. This one rules with a strong hand.  He knows the Norman ways and fought alongside the Dukes of Normandy.”

“Are you saying we may not be welcome?”

“I am saying, old friend, that you need to be careful and diplomatic. I will give you an escort across the border. The king does not keep a standing army as the Emperor does and he relies on his vassal lords to watch his land.  Archambaud of Montlucon has a powerful castle on the Cher River. I know him. My men will take you as far as him and then you will be on your own.”

I was confused. “Count Hugo why does the Emperor not impose his will upon the land?”

Count Hugo shook his head with a sad smile upon his face.  “This is not an Empire such as the one you have left. Here the power lies in the castles and the warriors who serve the Emperor, or the king. A strong king can control his lords but there are lords who will try to take power from their masters. Here the treachery is not done behind closed doors but behind a wall of steel, a wall of armoured knights.  If you have skills as a knight, young Alfraed, then you will do well.” He went on to tell us of the young knights who would ride in a conroi under their liege lord. They did not fight in wars against barbarians as they did in the east but they fought men mounted and armed much as they were. This was a noble kind of war.

I looked around the hall and saw knights younger than I. They were sat around tables sharing the camaraderie of the young.  I was with old men.  I would never enjoy the life of a knight in a conroi. I found myself being envious of them.

“I will send one of my household knights, Geoffrey of Coutes, with you.  He is good warrior.  I would advise you to wear your armour for your journey across Frankia.”

I looked at Wulfstan.  “I had been told that we would only encounter bandits who would not wear armour.”

Wulfstan did not seem put out by my implied criticism.  Count Hugo nodded, “Up until now that was true but now you travel across a land with castles and petty lords. They may decide to challenge your crossing. You will be under my protection until Montlucon. After that….” He shrugged.

We bought two more horses from Count Hugo. Two of the ones we had bought in Genoa would struggle to carry an armoured knight. I caused something of a stir when I emerged in my armour. It was the overlapping lamellar armour favoured in Constantinople.  It was lighter than mail and more effective.  The young knights I had seen the night before all came to examine it and ask me questions. They were envious of me. My shield was a smaller version of their kite shield. It did not cover as much of my legs but they were protected by more lamellar armour and mail. Finally my greaves gave my lower legs protection. I carried my helmet which had a face mask and aventail also of lamellar construction. It felt good to be in armour once more.  I could face the dangers more confidently.

As we headed north west I noticed that all of the knights had unique designs upon their shields. Mine was plain. I asked Wulfstan about the designs. “They identify the knight and his lord in battle. See how that all look different but each one has a boar’s head on it somewhere.  They show that they are Count Hugo’s men.”

That made sense.  In Constantinople we had not needed such things.  All of the warriors bore the shield of the Emperor.  Here men fought in smaller groups. I thought I would ask my father to have the same designs put on our shields. We were a conroi of sorts.

The land through which we travelled was good farmland.  It was clearly very fertile.  I saw terraces on the hills with vineyards there. I could see that this land was worth fighting for. The mountains through which we had passed were only fit for barbarians and bandits. Now we had reached what passed for civilisation.  The only wooden buildings belonged to the peasants; the Count had called them villeins. The hills were dotted with fortified castles made of stone.  Each one had a raised mound and a ditch surrounding it. This was all so different from my home.

Montluçon had the largest castle we had seen since we had left Lyon and Count Hugo. Geoffrey of Coutes spoke with the castellan and explained who we were. Sir Geoffrey left, eager to return to Lyon before dark.

The castellan was a small powerful man.  “I am Eugene.  The master, Lord Archambaud, is out with the household knights.  They are teaching one of our neighbours a lesson. Pray, stay the night. He should be back in a day or so.”

“We are anxious to reach Normandy.”

Eugene shook his head, “I cannot give you permission to cross the land of Lord Archambaud.  You will need to stay here until he returns.” He saw the looks exchanged between Ralph and Garth. “I have no doubt that he will grant you permission but Lord Archambaud is sensitive about such things.  He likes matters to be conducted properly.”

It was a pleasant castle to visit.  We stayed in the hall normally used by the household knights.  It was empty for Eugene just had the ten men at arms to guard the castle. They wore leather armour but all had a helmet, a spear and a shield. When we ate, that night, I asked Eugene if this was a typical castle.

He smiled, “You have not seen Frankish castles before?”

I shook my head. “Constantinople and its mighty walls are my only experience of such buildings.  These seem so small by comparison.”

My father snapped, “Alfraed, do not be rude to our host.”

Eugene laughed and waved away the apology, “I am not offended.  I have heard of the mighty walls of that great city. No, my young friend, we do not compete with a large castle but we have walls we can defend with a small number of knights and we can control large swathes of land from here with our knights.”

“How many knights does his lordship lead?”

“He has three conroi.  Each one has ten knights.  The ten knights have their own men at arms and they are mounted too.”

I took in the information. “Father, is it the same in England? You and the others fought on foot.”

Before he could answer Eugene said, “We often fight on foot too.  The horses are the quickest way to get to a battle but a man fighting in armour will soon tire a horse.” He laughed, “Your son is most curious, Lord Ridley.”

“I apologise for him.”

“No it is interesting for me to meet someone who looks like us and speaks our language and yet is a foreigner.”

I liked Eugene.  He told wonderful stories of fighting with his master Lord Archambaud and carving out this little domain of theirs.  It seemed that Louis the Fat was increasing his control over the lands and eventually there would be conflict with Lord Archambaud. Eugene did not appear to be concerned about the prospect of war with a king. “There have been strong kings of France and weak ones.  We shall see.  I have lived a long time, Alfraed son of Ridley, and I have learned to take life as it comes.  I would advise you to do the same.”

Lord Archambaud returned at noon of our third day in his land.  He was a most imposing knight. He shunned the new style of helmet and still wore the same kind as my father did. I noticed that the knights of his conroi all had the mail which still had a detachable face piece; it was called a ventail.  I knew then that Lord Archambaud liked things done the old ways. He and my father got on famously for they had both fought the Normans.  I think we could have stayed there for some time but my father was aware of the passage of time.

Lord Archambaud seemed to understand. “I will have my conroi escort you to the edge of my land.” He laughed, “I doubt you will have any trouble for I have imposed my will on my neighbours. They each lost household knights.” I had noticed the wagons and horses which he had brought back into his castle. Frankia did not seem a dull place to live.

He left us at a small village.  There was no accommodation but there was a wooden wall around it and the presence of the knights of Montluço
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ensured that we were welcomed. As we ate our frugal meal my father told us what he had learned from the Lord of Montluçon.

“It seems there is a battle to control the parts of Anjou, Normandy, Poitou and Touraine.” The names meant nothing to me.  My father, who was always patient with me, said, “They are the duchies through which we need to pass.  Henry is close by his borders with Maine.  He is supposed to be hunting but from what I have discovered he is looking for an opportunity to enlarge his kingdom.”

“Are the lands through which we are to travel not safe then?”

Ralph laughed, “Of course not! We are just as likely to be taken for brigands and bandits as travellers. The next days will be dangerous, Master Alfraed. You will be using your sword before too long.  Of that I am certain.”

As I went to sleep that night I could not help but wonder about the draw of England.  My father was risking death to reach his home as were his retainers. I suppose in my arrogance I thought that I would be immune from swords and arrows for I was young.  I was wrong.

For five days we saw few people as we travelled along the old Roman Road.  There were occasional merchants and, once they discovered that we were peaceful, were happy for us to travel with them.  They moved too slowly for us, however, and we left them after we had enjoyed some of their food. The merchants ate well. We were not far from Tours when we hit trouble.

We had found a ferry to ford the river.  We should have known that trouble was waiting for us.  The ferryman seemed very nervous about dropping us off. He kept glancing to the west. Wulfstan nodded to my father.  “I will take young Master Alfraed and we will scout ahead. Come.”

I followed Wulfstan and noticed that he donned his helmet.  It seemed prudent to copy him. The road wound along the river but Wulfstan led us up a gentle slope towards the north west. I could see that we followed an ancient track way.

“Why are we leaving the road?”

“The ferryman seemed nervous about the west and besides our route is to the north and west.” He pointed to the track we were following. “This is earlier than the Roman Road.  Often they are the best way of travel.” Above us the slope became steeper and was rounded.  I saw tree tops above the slope. I glanced behind and saw that my father and the rest were just half a mile away.  They had the pack animals to lead and could not travel as swiftly. As we reached the summit of the slope I saw, about two miles away, a small castle.  We had seen many such castles on our way north.  Wulfstan stopped and pushed his helmet back.  He peered at the castle which stood next to the Roman Road we would have travelled.

“See, Wulfstan.  Had we stayed on the road we might have been able to stay at the castle.”

“We have passed many such castles.  Since we stayed at Montluçon how many have opened their gates to us?”

I had not thought about that but now I realised that none had opened their gates. “None but that does not mean that this one will not.”

He laughed. “This is not a peaceful land.  You saw the Lord of Montluçon; he was busily enlarging his lands and taxing all who passed by.  We will wait here for your father and let him make the decision.”