Games of Otterburn 1388 (30 page)

The brothers went arm in arm through the wooden postern door to the keep having in mind to send James Douglas a message that at the first ease of the rain Lord Henry ‘Hotspur’ Percy would be forthwith upon the field of scrimmage ready to tourney with him alone.

When
Douglas
got the message brought to him by what appeared to be something of a drowned rat with a pouch, he was in his tent discussing strategies with Earl George of March and Earl John of Moray.

He held the messenger just long enough to say, “Relay to yer lord, I will be ready at the first let up of the rain.”

The messenger, reluctant to return to the wet pour, did leave and ran as fast as he could across the field and sliding in his rain flinging boots all the way.

Douglas
’ wry smile was not ignored by his two companions.

“What’s the best destrier we got that’s sure-footed in mud?” he asked.

As many of the Scots did, Adara and Mungan sat among the trees close to the silage field as it rained. The pouring rain filtering through the leaves and branches seemed less wet on their heads somehow.

Adara and Mungan looked like sopping messes as the downpour slacked off.

“Gotta wring the water out of our clothes,” said Adara as she unfastened the cinch girdle holding her dress close to her body and unbuttoned down her front.

“
Takin
’ yer dress off here?” he asked looking around to see who was close enough by to see such a sight.

“‘Tis the wood,” she explained as she got from her dress. “Ye can do anything in the wood.”

“Anything ye reckon,” he replied leaning against a tree trunk and skinning off his boots to pour the water out.

“‘Tis the wee folk that keeps others from
a’seein
’ ye do things,” she further explained.

“Ne’er saw wee folk,” he said going along with her idea of wringing their wet clothes.

“They live here amongst the trees and bushes,” she said giving her dress a hefty wring at arms length. The water splashed to the ground. She giggled.

Mungan had his trews pulled off and gave them a twist. The water splashed and Adara again giggled.

“I figure ye just want to see the water splash,” he said then he tried to giggle but in truth it was more like a
snorty
, gawky laugh.

She giggled at his attempt at reproducing her giggle.

He frowned.

She skinned out of her under-top baring her well formed breasts and pink nipples. Seeing Mungan’s expression as he stared at her chest she giggled more.

“Ye get
those
from the wee folk,” he said only half teasing.

“No!” she said, “Ye get these when ye get old enough.”

Mungan dropped his trews, sop and all, to the soggy ground.

“
Wanta
touch, do ye?” she asked already knowing the answer.

He nodded.

She took his hand and placed his palm flat against her nipple. “Now, easy squeeze it.”

Mungan’s eyes bulged.

She drew her under-dress up to her waist, tucked it in the band and came closer putting her arms around his neck. When she raised her self up from the ground and wrapped her legs around his middle his eyes bulged with surprise even more. What wonders she was teaching him, he thought as he was compelled to move to her moves in blind
passion.

She giggled and twisted more.

Several of the men-at-arms walked by glancing at the giant warrior and his woman bracing their stance against the trunk of the tree, smiled a bit and went on.

Neither Mungan nor Adara were aware of anyone about them. The wee folk were certainly earning the crumbs that Adara had recently spread among the trees for just such a purpose, she thought.

“This is the best destrier in mud? All of yer knights have agreed,” said Earl George leading a great white stallion by the reins to
Douglas
.

Douglas
took the reins and felt the horse’s neck and chest. The horse pulled a bit and jerked his head. He handed the reins to his squire and ran his hands over the rump and legs. “Whose horse is this?” he asked.

“‘Tis Sir John Edmonstone’s,” answered John Dunbar. “One of yer own knights.”

Douglas
nodded. “I know the man well,” he said as he stood and peered into the near crowd and spotted Sir John who was beaming with pride.
Douglas
smiled back and beckoned the man to his side.

“All I can offer is
my
horse yon
standin
’ if I get
yer’s
kilt,” said
Douglas
.

“‘Tis my honor ye ride him in yer joust, Milord,” said the high knight.

“His name?” asked
Douglas
.

“Sorrow, Milord,” said Edmonstone proudly.

“Sorrow?”

“‘
Twas
his mother’s death at his birth, Milord,” explained Edmonstone, “This steed has naught more than that to be sorrowful for.”

“And he handles the mud such as we have here?”

“He can handle it if ye but give him his head.”

“Anything else?” asked
Douglas
.

“When he lays his ears back ye can be assured he’ll be
a’fightin
’ for
Scotland
as well.”

Douglas
turned to his squire. “Tell the groom to fetch the tack from my tent.”

“Aye, Milord,” said the squire ducking under the horse’s head and disappearing.

Within moments the pair returned with saddle and
harness
all and began to shed the destrier of excess rain water and saddle him up.

John Edmonstone went to his horse’s ear and whispered something in it that not another living one heard. He then walked away like a proud father.

“Fetch my armor and surcoat,” ordered Douglas and his squire scurried off once more to the tent.

Douglas
saw the knight walking away. He smiled a bit and knew he was going to be riding the very best destrier available on the field that day.

Douglas
climbed aboard Sorrow and Earl George came to him saying, “What ye
usin
’ for a lance?”

“Hain’t thought to have one,” said
Douglas
. “Sword, shield, dagger and mace is what I’ve got. Message said
nothin
’ ‘bout choice of weapons.”

“
Dependin
’ too much on his honor,” advised George.

“Too many here on the field for him to go too far from the core of honor,” replied
Douglas
.

“Oh, he’ll not be
sallyin
’ from that port all alone,” said George as he went to a nearby man-at-arms who was holding a ten foot long spear. He took the weapon from the man and waved it a couple of time in the air as a sort of fidelity test and returned to
Douglas
’ side. “Take this, Milord. It’ll serve
ye
for a first round if he comes out with a lance of his own.”

“Ye hold it for now,” said
Douglas
. “If I need it I’ll know ye’ll be close by.”

His fellow earl nodded he understood.
 

While, inside the castle and within his solar, four squires were fussing over the armoring of Lord Henry.

Hotspur’s brother suddenly burst into the solar saying, “Your destrier is ready…
Milord!”

“Sun
come
out?” asked Hotspur holding his arms out from his shoulders so one of the squires could buckle him across the chest properly.

“Rain’s still stopped, clouds have moved on off to the east,” reported Ralph.

Hotspur nodded seemingly more concerned he was getting a comfortable buckling on his armor. His gold colored surcoat sported a blue lion rampant with a red label.

Within moments Hotspur was on his way out of the castle’s main entrance. A squire stood alert and held the Lord’s wooden lance upright beside his great black Friesian that stood armored, chest and head champing. The relatively small colorful pennon decorated by three lions stitched in gold thread and embellished with pearls was held fast by a golden rope near the vamplate of the lance.

“We’re ready, my brother,” said Ralph as a squire moved to place a two step box beside the horse to make it easier, more graceful to mount.

“Who are these men?” asked Hotspur pointing to a string of twenty knights also ready for battle.

“They’ll be on the close end of the field ready for any Scotch trickery,” replied Ralph. “They’ll be under my command.

“You
lookin
’ to fight
Douglas
any way you can goad him into it?” asked Hotspur.

“Precaution, Henry… merely…
precaution
,” assured Ralph.

Hotspur nodded he understood and turned to climb aboard.

There was a good mixture of townsfolk and warriors making the crowd of well wishers and they began to cheer as their hero went to his horse.

He smiled and raised his arms to the throng then turned to mount.

Seeing the step box standing just below the saddle stirrup and not wanting to appear to be in need of such a contraption, kicked it aside with his armored foot then placing that same foot in the stirrup swinging
himself
aboard quite elegantly.

The crowd cheered him more.

On the field the Scots heard the cheering.

“Not to be long now, I reckon,” said Earl George.

“Get our men ready, I will,” said John as he swung to the back of his destrier.

“Thought this was to be single combat?” said
Douglas
still standing.

“Ne’er know ‘bout those
sneakin
’ English. They’re puffin’ up for a reason in there,” he replied then reined around and trotted off.

Adara and Mungan were emerging from the wood when they were approached by a young, lanky rider. “
This a
tourney?” he asked leaning from the saddle to get closer to the pair.

“‘Tis,” said Mungan suspiciously eyeing the man. “Who ye
be
?”

“One of Lord Hotspur’s spies!” he proudly announced completely unaware that he was among the Scots.
“Got an important message for my lord, too.”