Games of Otterburn 1388 (44 page)

“Left this morn not
wantin
’ to take too many foot with him,” said the man continuing to eat.

“Where bound, you reckon?”

“After those damned Scotch, I reckon,” he said back. “We might just leave at first light.”

“And where you reckon the Scotch went?”

“Yon toward Otterburn… so I heard,” said the man who then had his apple worked to the core.

The curious knight looked over the immediate area and wondered how the town could have so quickly swallowed the bishop and the sheriff so completely.

“You see where the bishop went?” he asked thinking that that was a far fetched gamble.

“Holed up with the black ones, he is,” answered the man right off.

“Black ones?” questioned the knight narrowing his eyes.

“Yon ways,” said the man fingering toward the south.

“A coin for ye
a’takin
’ me there,” offered the knight.

“Show me the coin,” countered the man spitting seeds from his mouth into his fingers and carefully placing them into his pouch, “and I’ll show you where
is your bishop
.”

The knight smiled at the bargain. He wrestled his fingers around the bottom of his pouch and came up with a coin he was willing to part with for the man’s help.

“
This spend
‘round here?” he asked accepting the pay.

“Made in
Durham
but it’ll surely spend here,” answered the knight. “Now show me.”

Literally within moments the one leading the other stood in front of the black friars hostile. “Here’s where they took him,” said the man as he turned to find a place to spend his new found fortune.

The knight knocked on the door to the chamber where the bishop slept.

Boynton got to his feet and opened the door. Recognizing the knight he stepped from the room to the antechamber and spoke in whispers, “What?”

“Not to make an assumption but…”

“Make your assumptions,” he said flatly, “Couldn’t get any worse than it already is.”

“Do you know where Hotspur is?” asked the knight.

“We don’t know,” said Boynton.

“He took all his knights and men-at-arms and only some foot with him and set off for Otterburn this morn, he did, so is my
understandin
’,” advised the knight.

Boynton frowned. “What in the name of Beelzebub is
goin
’ on here?”

“I figure they left so quick that they didn’t care a whet for our company,” he declared raising his voice.

Boynton crossed his arms over his chest and stroked his beard while in thought. “You must be damned right!” he said dropping his defensive stance and placing the palms of his hands on the pommels of his sword and dagger that were sheathed on either side of his waist.

“Then you agree we need to catch up to them.”

“Agree or not the bishop’s asleep and I ain’t about to shake him awake,” said Boynton.

“Reckon we’ll be
a’waitin
’ then,” replied the knight from Hardlepool.

“Reckon is right,” replied Boynton who was as
as
frustrated as the knight.

August 19 - Afternoon

Scot’s Gap

Hotspur splashed through the shallow water at Scot’s Gap and for want of the water his destrier jerked its bridle in protest. Sir Ralph caught up to his brother on the opposite side of the water and said, “You’re about to be
ridin
’ a dead horse if you don’t water it!”

Hotspur snarled. He was jealous of the sun casually proceeding along its usual course and not halting for his convenience. He cursed the heavens under his breath and turned his horse to see his army’s transportation not awaiting the lord’s permission to drink.

Ralph came closer beside him. “They’re all worn, Henry,” he explained.

The four squires of Henry and Ralph came across the water to stand with their lords.

The men on their knees with their faces in the water and horses with their forefeet plunged into the shallow edge drank side by side. They quickly gathered between the trees growing along the banks of the meandering river no more than fifteen feet wide.

“Ain’t so worn that they
gotta
rest!” snapped Hotspur with his mouth snarled.

The horses of the six men walked to the water’s rim and began to drink of their own accord.

Hotspur, not wanting to drink while hunkering on his head, pulled his water skin and drank.

“It’s late in the day, brother,” said Ralph. “Be damned near sundown ere we get there.”

“Well that ought to give them a good surprise!” spouted Hotspur matching his anger.

“Can’t fight in the dark, Henry!”

“You scared, brother?!” spat Hotspur.

“You know me better!” growled back Ralph.

“Then get set to ride some more!”

Ralph breathed deep trying to explain to his revenge driven brother that his army and their mounts were not about to last the remainder of the trip and still
be
able to fight.

Matthew Redman and Robert Ogle splashed to the north side of the river. Redman spoke, “We
campin
’ here for the night?”

“Who in hell said that?!” yelped Hotspur.

“Just figured,” snapped back Redman, his words tinged with anger. He darted his eyes to Robert for a possible explanation for Hotspur’s ire.

Ogle jumped his shoulder a bit to indicate he had no idea.

Those men and horses that drank first came across the water and stopped on the far side. The men stretched out on the grass.

“None of you will thwart my mind!” said Hotspur jerking his horse’s head from the water, turning and trotting onward toward Otterburn.

“Does he not understand the condition of his army,” said Redman frowning.

“We’re straggled back for at least a couple of miles. Maybe more,” added Ogle removing his helm and mopping his brow with his inner sleeve where his mail armor was not.

“Lord Henry leads this army!” growled Ralph to the two nobles.

He then turned to Hotspur’s one squire still there and commanded him, “Unfurl that banner of your liege lord’s and follow him no matter where he goes!”

The surprised squire took the banner from its saddle loops, twisted its staff until the gold banner and blue lion caught the bit of wind.

Ralph wheeled his destrier and digging his spurs deep into the horse’s ribs it kicked dirt to a gallop.

The three squires followed the fourth letting the banner of his liege lord whip in the wind created by the galloping horse.

“Those two are going to get us
all
killed,” opined Sir Matthew as he watched the brothers ride ahead.

“Well, until we
are
all dead, I figure we do press on!” grumbled Ogle. He kicked his mount to continue their journey.

Redman whistled and the men-at-arms and archers knew to get to their feet, mount up and trail after him.

Hotspur leaned over toward Ralph and said, “I have seen battles begin and end within a short span of time and I am determined to strike hard and fast and make that
Douglas
yield for what he put us through.”

“I am with you, my brother.”

August 19 - Afternoon

North of Blakeman’s Law

John Dunbar and his small band of men searching the surrounding area for reiveable stock came up on a particular ridge for the area overlooking the long valley below.

“Ye can see right far from here,” said John riding up to his best spotter.

“Right far and a mighty lot,” said the man pointing across the valley floor. “
Yon’s
the third bunch of armed riders
headin
’ east that I’ve seen.”

“Harbottle?” questioned John knowing the area across the
vally
.

“My best guess, Milord,” replied the knight glancing at the small
village
of
Harbottle
.
“Maybe beyond?”

“Thomas Umfraville!” said John aloud.

“Milord?”

“These men are
settin
’ out to come against us from the north while Hotspur will be
comin
’ against us from
Newcastle
,” exclaimed John.

“Reckon that changes our objectives… for now, Milord?” questioned the spotter.

“Only a wee bit,” came back John. “We
a’ready
got some twenty beeves and two mules.”

The spotter got another glint off metal from the afternoon sun. “
Yon’s
another bunch,” he said again pointing.

John turned in his saddle to see the five riders trotting across the farmer’s field going in the same direction as those previously observed. “I want
ye
to stay here and keep yer eyes peeled.”

“Aye, Milord,” said the man.

“I’m
leavin
’ two men with
ye
to send back as messengers,” explained John.