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Authors: Charles Randolph Bruce

Games of Otterburn 1388 (47 page)

BOOK: Games of Otterburn 1388
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“All easiest to hand… I have no time for more!”

Waltham
wheeled his horse to do his master’s bid.

Soon Henry Percy had a handful his leading nobles close. He was somewhat familiar with the area where the Scots were camped and was relying on that experience to best serve him.

“Redman, I want you to stay on the road
usin
’ the trees for cover and
keepin
’ to the left. Try
gettin
’ behind their main force,” ordered Hotspur. “Take Robert Ogle and his men with you… You will be the van battle ahead of us on the road and the first to engage.”

“They know we’re
comin
’?” asked Redman.

“Don’t know for a fact,” spat Hotspur in quick words. “I know we’ve killed five of their spies.”

“Are we to take prisoners?” asked Redman.

“Only if they can be ransomed,” he replied curtly.

“Kill the others?” asked Redman pushing for a clear definition.

“As many as you can lay a blade to,” said Hotspur gruffly, his eyes narrowing as he grew suspicious of Redman’s loyalty intentions. Then he added, “I will lead the main battle to a different point. That should surprise and confuse them enough to give Redman a chance to work his way behind them.”

“We’re straggled back for more than three miles… maybe more…
Milord,”
advised Sir Ralph Lumley, “I ain’t seen Eure since high sun.”

Hotspur spoke, “Won’t all be able to get into the fight at once, anyway, so they can add to the fracas as they come to it. We have more men than they do so it should be an easy rout.” The last he said so he would avoid arguments from his nobles about the attack being launched in the last part of daylight.

Sir Matthew Redman swung into the saddle of his horse and signaled to his portion of the men to follow. Robert Ogle returned to his well warmed saddle and signaled his men.

“We’ll go along in a trot then when we see the Scotch we’ll take to a gallop,” instructed Redman.

Robert nodded he understood and Redman dug his spurs a bit into his horse’s already sore rib flesh to get him going.

There was the usual small contingent of squires and standard bearers that went before their lieges and bore the banners of Redman and Ogle so the hindmost could have an advanced indication as to what was happening in the front.

August 19 - Late Afternoon

Newcastle-upon-Tyne

Skirlaw awoke from his nap wondering. He sat on the edge of his pallet and looked at Boynton. He blinked and asked, “You
watchin
’ me sleep?”

“I wanted to be here for your
awakenin
’,” spoke the sheriff.

“The bishop stood and looked around for a convenience. The sheriff, guessing his need, pointed to the crockery sitting on the floor beside the pallet.

The bishop turned his back to the sitting Boynton and asked him over the obvious sounds, “Could you find me a supper?”

Without a word the sheriff stood and left the chamber to see to it that he and the bishop were fed at least a simple meal of whatever was at the hands of the black friars.

Soon Boynton returned to his chair in the chamber and said, “Sup will be along soon, Your Grace.”

Within mere moments there was a knock on the door and in came four robed friars carrying cooked oats and loaf bread for each of the men. Two more behind them shuffled a small square table through the door and placed it in front of Skirlaw who was sitting on the edge of the bed.

The six bowed politely and without a word backed from the room.

Skirlaw motioned for Boynton to join him at the table so the sheriff pulled his chair up and placed his oats and bread down, sat and began to eat.

“No
sayin
’ of the prayers, Thomas?” asked Skirlaw in a voice that seemed to Boynton a question asked straight from God. He sheepishly bowed his head and Walter Skirlaw said a prayer for both of them then they began to eat.

“What shall we do, Your Grace?” asked Boynton at length.

“About what?” asked
Skirlaw.

Are we
goin
’ to Otterburn or not,
Your
Grace?”

The bishop paused in mid lift of his spoon and looked directly at the sheriff.

“Otterburn?”

“Otterburn is where Sir Henry Percy has gone, Your Grace, I have it confirmed on good authority,” said Boynton fudging the facts a bit.

“Otterburn, for sure?”

“For sure,
Your
Grace,” answered Boynton.

“My God in Heaven!” he exclaimed still holding his spoon in suspension. “We
must
go and help.”

Boynton twisted off a piece of bread and pushed it into his mouth, “Tonight, Your Grace?” he questioned through his busy teeth.

“At this very hour, dear sheriff,” he replied as he continued to chew his supper.

“You mean…
after
we eat… right, Your Grace?”

“Yes,” said Skirlaw, “
Right
after
we eat… I mean.”

 

August 19 - Before Sunset

Blakeman’s Law

With the permission of James Douglas, John Dunbar chose Davy Coleville, a
Douglas
’ squire, to ride to the crest of Fawdon Hill and keep a sharp eye on the road from Otterburn.

Davy sat stoically downhill with his knees propped up and his interlaced fingers atop his knees and his chin atop the backs of his hands. The town and
tower
of
Otterburn
were somewhat to his right but the first instance of the road he could see beyond the trees was directly in front of him.

At the moment he saw Matthew Redman’s banner trotting along the road he could not believe his eyes. Then upon seeing Redman in his armor he quickly stood and ran for his horse that was tethered to a clump of brush just over the backside of the crest.

Davy grabbed the reins and swung to the back of his horse and kicked it hard forcing it to an immediate gallop. He had planned the exact trip in his mind in case he was needed to sound the alarm and he did not miss a step.

When he came onto the roadway his voice was screaming, “Hotspur’s on us!! -- Hotspur’s on us!!”

As he passed the servant’s tents John Swinton jumped to his feet with little more than his boots and surcoat cinched at the waist by his sword belt.

Davy urged his horse up the hill where the knights and squires were camped blaring, “Hotspur’s on us!! Hotspur’s on us!! Wake! Wake!
Wake!”

Swinton was shouting orders to the men and lads in the lower camp sending his squire James, whom he place in charge of the smaller of the boys, to hide among the cattle and trees along the river bank. He further instructed James that if the skirmish went badly and the English came for the herd he was to get to the south side of the river and hide among the trees until they could make their way back to
Scotland
.

The older boys and servants he instructed to hunker uphill behind the small bushes and if the enemy came by the road on horseback they were to run against them with their short swords, daggers or even sharpened wooden spears. Kill the horses and kill the men as they fell to the ground.

Swinton stood tall and drew his sword to be ready. He did not once think to put on his armor that remained in his tent.

Redman’s contingent rode past
Otterburn
Tower
and the archers at the battlements recognized the English banners and cheered them onward and pointed them toward Blakeman’s Law.

“How many!?” asked
Douglas
when Davy came to him.

“Saw just the start of them
comin
’ out of the trees at a trot,” shouted the excited lad.


It’s
a’right
,” said
Douglas
in quick words. “Go ‘round the camp and see that all know then come back here!”

“Aye, Milord,” said the squire and put spurs to his horse again.

Douglas
looked at the position of the sun and knew he was about to war with a madman who imagines he can have an easy victory before the sun sets.

All across Blakeman’s Law men were girding for the expected onslaught.

Mungan got his boots on and over his shirt he slung his quilted jerkin with the insignia of the Saint Andrew’s cross sewn onto his left chest. Adara nervously tied the fasteners down the front as he wrapped his waist twice around with his dagger and short sword belt.

She held his chain mail coif high and wide as he bowed and slipped his head into it over his arming cap. She straightened it across his large shoulders.

He adjusted the coif around his face. His beard always caught in the links and made him wince when it did.

“Ye
a’wantin
’ for me to get yer horse?” asked Adara as she handed him his heavy long spear with the sharp pointed iron head.

“No horse here,” he spat, “Where’s my new-won buckler?”

She looked around and saw it at the back part of the shelter. Two wide steps and she had it within her grasp. She caught up his gauntlets that were
laying
close to where she stood.

BOOK: Games of Otterburn 1388
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