Games of Otterburn 1388 (28 page)

The third English knight’s horse reared up while he was still slinging his sword.

One of the grounded Scottish knights was downed by a wild slash. Blood was easily seen gushing from the wound.

“Want to stop the fight?” asked Earl George sitting his horse beside
Douglas
.

James peered over to where Sir Ralph was
towering
in his stirrups with anxiety and excitement with four other high nobles who were monitoring the games.

“I think we’re committed to
playin
’ this one to the hilt,” was George’s answer.

George glanced at Ralph and understood.

A second Scottish knight hooked the still mounted English knight in the chain mail with his sharp pointed bearded axe and hung on to the handle with all of his weight

Another English knight grabbed him trying to separate him from the debilitating axe. He slipped in the mud and it only served to bring his comrade to the ground all the sooner.

Then there were two Scottish knights and two English knights with five wandering horses upstanding. Dead were one Scot and one horse. Half dead was one English knight

The rain became heavier to where the men on the wall could not see the field as the knights continued to fight.

Adara curled under Mungan’s protective arm as they continued to watch as much as the rain would allow them to see. The blood and grime was washing from his clothes so he thought he would be able to avoid the river wash plan. His broken nose began to ache anew.

Through the drenching rain
Douglas
saw Ralph kick spurs to his destrier and went toward the fighting knights.

“See what’s afoot,” said
Douglas
.

George kicked his own horse and went after Ralph.

“What ye
reckon’s
happenin
’?” asked Adara.

“Only one’s that know are them
that’s
fightin
’,” opined Mungan wiping the water from his eyes and beard.

Douglas
looked over to see the remaining monitoring English knights looking back at him to see what they were to do since they could not get instructional signals from Hotspur at the top of the wall.

George returned in a moment. “Ralph wanted to stop the game as two of his were
a’ready
on the ground dead... I agreed.”

“Too bad nobody saw that happen,” said
Douglas
as he watched the barely visible grayed silhouettes of two warrior knights dragging their dead comrade and leading five horses by the reins back through the still pouring rain to the Scottish side of the silage field. He wondered how long Hotspur was going to allow the charade to continue before he burst out of the gates with his whole army and swallow them up.

Suddenly Sir Ralph appeared from the mist. His helm was off showing his angry thin-bearded face wrapped in his chain mail coif and slinging rain water in every direction. “Now will you meet me on this field in single combat!!?” he screamed.

Douglas
had him just about where he wanted and said calmly, “Send yer brother. I’ll fight him.”

Ralph went livid and he shook all over. “I am the one throwing the gauntlet to you…
Not My Brother
!!”
Water sprayed from his lips as he ejected the words from his mouth.

“We are leaving in the morn,” advised
Douglas
, “Please relay to ‘Hotspur’ our gratitude for the games. It has been… gratifying… but, personally disappointing that he refused to pick up
my
gauntlet!”

Douglas
started his destrier away.

“He has not refused!” spat Ralph.

Douglas
reined and wheeled, still cold and calm. “Aye,” he said, “Ye are rightly so. Hain’t presented it to yer
liege lord brother
as yet, have ye?”

Ralph could not have been
more angry
. He had gained no respected from Douglas who refused to fight him.

Before Ralph made a deadly error he jerked his horse’s head about and kicked the blood from its ribs as he hied for the West Gate sliding his horse’s hooves in the mud all the way.

His nobles, aware of the slippery mud, followed at a gentler gait.

Douglas
heard the hoof strikes going across the drawbridge. He turned to again leave.

“Reckon ye’ll get yer fight?” asked George riding along side of
Douglas
.

“
Pride’ll
bring him out,” answered
Douglas
.

The cheering had ceased.

The rain was letting up a bit.

Douglas
was smiling to himself.

Mungan’s nose was still smarting but the old dried blood had been washed into the ground.

Adara wondered about the boots the English knights had been wearing as she delighted in wriggling her bare toes in the wet and trampled silage.

August 17 - Early Afternoon

Blakeman’s Law and Otterburn

Four days past since Alexander Ramsey had arrived at Blakeman’s Law with his small contingent prepared to build an intermediate fortification to be used in the orderly withdrawal of the plunder and men from
England
back to
Scotland
.

“‘
Ppears
to be a fort of some sort,” said the chief burgess of Otterburn standing on Fawdon Hill in the same footfalls as when Old Mary pointed out the sudden appearance of the Scots to him. With him were five other town burgesses crowded together and peering from the gentle slope.

“Reckon we now know their intent,” said the first burgess.

“
Fixin
’ for a battle of some sort,” opined another.

“Reckon they might be set on
takin
’ over the whole of the region like has been tried
a’fore
,” said a third.

“We’ll call a town meeting,” said the chief.

“What for?” said the second, “Just scare them all, it will.”

“Every
livin
’ soul in town
a’ready
knows about them
bein
’ here,” chimed in a fourth. “Hell, there’s been
a’plenty
up here to take
their own
look!”

“Scotch ain’t
a’botherin
’ us none,” put in the sixth. “I say let it alone… ‘
tain’t
no truck of ours. Good mile from our town!”

“
Callin
’ a town
meetin
’, I am, --Like it or not,” said the chief. “They appear to be too damned comfortable
layin
’ about on Blakeman’s Law!”

“Shush your stupid
yappin
’ mouth!” said the fifth
who
was the most frightened of the seven.

“Say it, I will, as loud as I want,” barked the chief.

“Seems they’re just
a’waitin
’,” advised the second. “Question is, what they
a’waitin
’ on?”

“Good question,” said the fifth.

“We’ll put food in the tower house as a precaution,” said the chief burgess.

“And I figure we might want to send out scouts to see who is on their way here, too,” said the second getting a shudder down his spine thinking about the prospects.

“We
a’ready
know there were Scotch who went south a few days back so I reckon whoever it might be, will be
comin
’ from the south,” said the second.

“Might be more
a’comin
’ from
Scotland
to join the ones we saw earlier,” worried the fifth.

“
A’right
, we’ll send a scout north up the Redeswire and a scout south toward
Newcastle
,” decided the chief burgess waving his hands as if he was in the throes of his final decision. “Call a
meetin
’ for… soon… today. Meantime get a regular scout right here,” he pointed to the ground at his feet, “to watch them tricky Scotch,” he said then he walked through the group of five others and down the hill toward the town. The remaining burgesses closely followed their leader nattering arguments and opinions all the way.

Ramsey and Halliburton had been the leading force of the building if the temporary structure that consisted of little more than a holding pen formed in the loop of the river and a brier and stick fence across the road and up on the hill to protect the plunder when Swinton brought it in.

“Ye see the townsfolk on yonder hillock?” said Ramsey pointing across to Fawdon Hill.

“I saw them,” said Halliburton, “Been
comin
’ regular.
Different ones.
Curious, I reckon they are.”

“Glad we sent that spy into town yesterday,” said Ramsey.

“Strangers always get a good look over,” replied Halliburton. “He’ll not last long ere they smell him out.”

“And kill him, I reckon,” answered Halliburton then asked.
“Swinton still due here sometime today?”

“
Accordin
’ to the scout as of early this morn,” replied Ramsey. “Not far away at all.”

“We near Otterburn, now, Milord?” asked Sir Swinton’s young squire James.

“Just passed Elsdon,” advised the knight. “Be there ere afternoon, I would reckon.”

“What happens then?” asked the lad.

“We’ll be
meetin
’ Sir Alexander Ramsey and
holin
’ up there ‘til Lord Douglas joins us… then on to
Scotland
… as planned.”

“Why didn’t we meet at Elsdon, Milord?”

“‘
Twern’t
the plan, that’s why, lad.”