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Authors: Charles Randolph Bruce

Games of Otterburn 1388 (8 page)

BOOK: Games of Otterburn 1388
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“Ne’er know what’s on the far side of a river, James,” he said ignoring the obvious answer to the Earl’s casual question.

“Reckon there’s English
a’waitin
’ yon, do ye?” said
Douglas
.

“Could be,” said
Dunbar
. “‘
Ppears
to be a mighty big castle near the bank of the river.” He pointed east about a quarter of a mile.

“That’s Prudhoe.
Built with the stone from
Hadrian’s Wall
that was made by Romans more than twelve hundred years back.
Belongs to the Umfravilles… for now,” explained Sir James. “They generally keep a moderate garrison. Don’t need more ‘
cause
it’s got thick high walls.”

“And they hain’t a threat?” asked George plainly.

“See that man
a’sittin
’ on the bank?” asked
Douglas
pointing more directly across the river.

George
squinted
his eyes tight and scanned the far bank. In a moment he saw the darkened figure sitting in the shadows of a bush and a tree. “I see him,” replied George.

“He’s our scout,” said
Douglas
. If there was English
hidin
’ on yon bank he would not be
sittin
’ thus to invite us o’er.”


A’right
,” returned Earl George with a flash of aggravation. “Why didn’t ye just tell me straight off?”

“Didn’t figure ye wanted to know,” replied
Douglas
.

“Well, I did,” snapped back George.

 
“Here’s
somethin
’ more important… Ye see the spies on the eastern hill?” asked
Douglas
motioning his thumb over his left shoulder.

“Saw them, I did. From
Newcastle
, I reckon they came,” said George a little more pleased with himself. “Want me to have them run down?”


Nae
,” replied James. “They can report. I figure Hotspur himself is lock-holed there and just wants to know our
where’bouts
. When they see us sallying into
Durham
’s country they won’t be
a’comin
’ for us there.”

George leaned his head back and poured a mouthful of oats in, then licked the palm and fingers of his hand. He let his saliva soak the dried oats before he began to chew. “And ye hain’t a
carin
’ if he knows?”

“Why should I? He’s a goodly knight… so I’m told,” said
Douglas
with a sneer of sarcastic insolence.

George about choked with giggles on his oats.

Douglas
turned to George and smiled. He was pleased that George understood his broader meaning.

George reached his hand into the water and scooped up some to his mouth. “Reckon yer right,” replied George as soon as he could manage the words from his busy maw.

“Across the river and down a ways,” said
Douglas
standing
tall,
“is where we’re
goin
’.”

“I know where
Durham
town is,” said George as he fingered more oats from his pouch. His horse pulled its nose from the water and snorted a bit as George held his hand flat out topped with a portion of the grain.

Douglas
smiled again at his friend. “Not
a’goin’a
choke again on yer meal, are ye?”

The horse made short work of the small mound of grain licking the earl’s palm clean.

George stood.

“‘Tis done for now… got a belly full,” he said laughing and patting the armor across his midsection.

“Get a good look at the ground here and pass this along to yer brother,” advised
Douglas
. “It will be here that we’ll meet the others to take our booty back to Otterburn.”

“Aye,” agreed the earl.

The two spies sent by Hotspur sat their horses on the inner line of a copse on the edge of the higher ground overlooking the Scottish knights and men-at-arms taking a leisurely moment at the water. They watched the relatively small band of twelve hundred as they mounted and crossed the River Tyne. They watched long enough to see if the suspected marauders were fixed to strike the
castle
of
Prudhoe
on the south side of the river then they turned their horses east toward
Newcastle
and did not seem to be in any particular hurry.

The Scottish spy who was sitting on the far bank got to his horse and fell into the queue close to
Douglas
.

“Ye get my message to Umfraville?” asked
Douglas
.

“Aye, Milord,” answered the spy. “He knows we’ll be
comin
’ back through in a day or two as well.”

“With plunder?” asked
Douglas
.

“I ne’er told him that part, Milord,” said the spy smiling broadly.

Douglas
returned the smile with a nod and the spy knew to keep his mouth shut thereafter.

Serfs, who were working the castle fields near to their passing, paid little attention to the Scots presence. One young man was dispatched to the castle to report the passage but from the wall walk the Scots had already been identified and word sent to Lord Umfraville of their intrusion into his bailiwick.

Earl James Douglas and his men rode on south as if they had not a care in the world.

August 11 - Sundown

Newcastle-upon-Tyne

“How many you reckon were there at the river crossing?” asked the first English spy as they drew close to the town walls of
Newcastle
.

“A little some, I would say,” said the second spy. “We ought to have a same story to tell.

“Reckon you’re right on that,” said the first. “Knights and archers and spears, they were?”

“Knights and archers,” replied the second. “Knights and archers, there were… and spears.”

“I got it,” returned the first.

The pair kicked their horses hard and rode up to the West Gate of the town hard like they had been traveling fast from the beginning of their trip.

From within the large double towered gate the warden shouted, “Spies
a’comin
’. Open the gate!”

The spies heard the order and drew rein making their horses slide to a stop.

“That
should’a
given the ones on top of the wall a good show,” said the first smiling at his friend.

They could hear the clanking of chains and gears working as the gate keepers raised the portcullis to its full height. They heard the heavy oak bar being lifted out of its arms.

“Won’t be long about it now,” opined the first.

The second agreed with a nod.

The sun was near setting as the western sky brilliantly glowed with hues of
golds
, reds, dark blues and greens.

Hotspur was in the great hall sitting with his brother Ralph and Matthew Redman when the two spies showed up to report to their liege.

“Saw them Scotch knights you were
lookin
’ for, Milord,” said the first man. We reckoned it was a
Douglas
a’leadin
’ them. Saw big red hearts on his banner, we did…
Milord.”

Hotspur looked up from his trencher.
“Where?”


Crossin
’ the
Tyne
about to Prudhoe, Milord,” said the first.

“The
garrison at Prudhoe do
anythin
’ about their
trespassin
’?” asked Hotspur putting another bite of bread in his mouth.

“We waited to see if they did, Milord, but they didn’t.”

“How many?”

“A goodly but small
number,
reckons me,” said the first, “knights and archers… spears.”

“That’s right, Milord. Knights and archers and spears, “related the second, “all on horse.”

Hotspur waved the men away and continued eating his supper of meat and bread washed down with warm fresh made ale.

“What you figure them Scotch are about?” asked Ralph.

“I figure the Umfravilles at Prudhoe got paid off and the bishop’s
goin
’ to have his hands full to get
Douglas
from his lands.”

“We
a’chasin
’?” asked Ralph.

“King said no,” relayed Hotspur. “Besides that’s just a small portion of their contingent come to
Durham
for
raidin
’ purposes. They won’t get very far.
King’ll
be here ere long, I figure.”

“I don’t think the king’s
comin
’,” inserted Redman.

“Why not?” asked Hotspur rubbing his hand across his worried brow.

“We’re a long way from
London
,” he remarked in a quiet voice. “We who are
a’ready
here are probably the only ones to stop this invasion.”

“King said to wait. I’m
a’waitin
’,” grumped Hotspur and everyone within earshot knew by the sound of his words that he didn’t like the orders but would not go against his sovereign… just yet.

BOOK: Games of Otterburn 1388
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