The Dunston Blade (8 page)

The two men, pulling the cart, followed Roger, who rushed into the building shouting out for the Prior. Prior Clement was skilled in the art of healing and
was soon at the side of the injured man. “He is very badly wounded and I am afraid my skills may not save him,” he said, as he inspected Roland’s cuts and
a large hole below his ribs caused by a lance or spear. Roland was still unconscious at this stage and Roger could see that his breathing was shallow and
irregular.

“I will be grateful for whatever you can do,” said Roger. The Prior called one of the monks to him.

“This is Brother Joseph who is more experienced than I, he will do his best, and with God’s help, try to save his life.”

Roger stayed in the room while Brother Joseph went to work, the Benedictines were well known for their value as doctors. The monk worked on Roland for a
considerable time and at last stood back, washed his hands and turned to Roger saying, “I have done all I can, but the stomach wound has damaged internal
organs which I can do nothing for.”

“I thank you for what you have done,” said Roger

“He is still unconscious, and may not come round at all, time will tell. I am going to chapel now and we will pray for him.”

Roger thanked the monk again and stood by the table where Roland had been placed, two monks appeared and without a word moved Roland to a small cell,
placed him on the bed and left. Roger sat by the bed and looked at Roland, he remembered the good, and some bad, times they had had together. He was a good
companion, thought Roger but too much fighting can only end like this. Later that evening Brother Joseph came to see how Roland was, he told Roger that the
biggest danger was infection in the wounds, although he had removed several pieces of cloth from the hole in his stomach there could be some still there.
The monk had only been gone for a few minutes when Roland opened his eyes. He was disoriented and asked where he was and who was Roger. Gradually his
senses seemed to clear and he spoke to Roger.

“Is that you Roger? Am I hurt badly old friend, I can’t feel much.”

“ You have some bad wounds Rolly but you are in good hands, the Benedictines are looking after you. Were you at Evesham?”

“ Yes,” murmured Roland. “I fell foul of some of Sir Cedric of Wymondham’s men and they overpowered me. I thought I was going to die there then. There was
a young Squire who could have finished me off but for some reason stopped before the fatal blow.”

Roland fell silent and his eyelids closed, Roger bent over his friend and he realised Roland was asleep. Roger visited Roland most evenings after his
duties had finished. He had become friendly with some of the brothers and one evening as they sat talking a brother visiting from Lincoln told them of the
Herald coming to Lincoln to announce the Tournament in Wymondham. He said that Robert of Lincoln was gathering a party to take part and would be travelling
down in two weeks time. Walking home Roger pondered as to whether he would join the group, he was sure he could be given the time away as the town was
reasonably quiet and his men well trained. It would not take long to improve his marksmanship and he had always been capable with the sword. The more he
thought about it the more he became convinced he should make the journey. He brought the subject up with Laila that evening, she said that if he went she
would go too. After lengthy discussion Roger gave way and agreed. He found out that the entourage would be stopping at Grimsthorpe Castle, he could join
them easily there. He went to find the Captain but was told he had left and his servant did not know when he would be back. Roger went off to find the
Mayor who informed him that the man had decided to return to his home in London and the town was without a Captain and he had planned to see Roger the next
day to offer him the position. Roger was delighted and accepted with the proviso that he would go to the Tournament. The Mayor agreed and Roger returned
home to tell Laila the good news.

II

The preparations for the Tournament were progressing well, the site had been chosen and the areas for the visiting Knight’s tents and pavilions marked out.
Sir Cedric, being the host, would be positioned on the Castle side as also would be the main stand where the dignitaries would sit. Opposite would be
Robert of Lincoln’s tents and at the other ends would be Gilbert de Clare and Alfred of Ely. The action would take place in the centre which was a long
grassed area, long enough for two Knights to Joust. Smaller rings would be behind the tents for wrestling and cock fighting. John had been checking the
stands and Sir Cedric’s tents when Gavin rode up and asked if the centre was long enough?

“Come,” said John. “I will get my horse and if you go to the far end we can see if it will do.”

They faced each other at opposite ends, a labourer shouted ‘go’ and they both galloped towards one another. They passed each other opposite the stand and
trotted round to meet at that point.

“Excellent,” said John and Gavin agreed.

“Are you riding, John?”

“I hope to.” John replied. “We may meet each other if we get that far up the competition.”

Gavin laughed and shouted.“Last one back to the stables cleans both horses.” He galloped off with John in hot pursuit. John dug his heels into Anvil and
the beast increased pace and overtook Gavin.

“ Nothing can touch Anvil in a race, but you will not need speed in the lists,” said Gavin as he led both animals away. John thought about the remark and
as he helped Gavin. “Do you think we will be able to borrow a destrier for the Joust, you are right Anvil is not right for that activity.”

“ We will have to ask Sir Cedric.” replied Gavin. That night as they sat at table John asked the question about the horses for the Tournament.

“Well, now that I have three destriers we will be able to show our friends we are kind towards our Squires,” said the Earl with a smile. “John shall ride
the black and Gavin the mixture leaving me with my faithful grey, You will find saddles, barding and trappers in the side room at the stables. The trappers
are in my colours.” (Trappers were large cloths that cover the horses, usually brightly coloured.)

John and Gavin grinned at each other. “Carac will need a lighter horse and he will find a black stallion there that will suit his purposes. Now practice
your weapons and techniques to be ready for the bouts.”

The Squires could hardly contain their excitement and wanted to go out to the stables immediately. Sir Cedric managed to keep their interest in talking
about jousting and the best way to win.

Only a week to go and the Tournament would be under way, already traders from Wymondham were coming out to claim the most favourable pitches. Soon the
visiting Knight’s retainers started to arrive. Knights and their Squires moved up to the Castle and everywhere was buzzing. John was busy at the Tournament
ground making sure people were directed to their correct camping grounds and did not see the arrival of Sir Robert of Lincoln. Late that evening he wearily
rode back to the Castle and flopped onto his bed, he was not allowed to rest for long as Carac came beating on his door for him to go down for a meal.

“There is a surprise in the hall, remember I had to go to Lincoln to escort someone home?”

John leapt up and rushed down to the Great Hall, all the guests were seated and there beside her father was Tania. John’s heart skipped a beat and he
bumped into Carac

“Steady John, don’t pass out in front of everyone. The Steward is beckoning us to take our seats.”

They sat down and John looked up trying to catch Tania’s eyes but she was engrossed in what Sir Gilbert was telling her. The wine, ale and mead flowed and
the food vanished as soon as it was brought to table. The noise of men who had supped and fed well grew in intensity. Suddenly the Steward banged his staff
on the floor and the babble ceased. Sir Cedric gave a welcoming speech and wished them all well in the competitions. The ladies who were present left with
their maids and most of the men settled down to some serious drinking. John and Gavin slipped out.

“I’m not joining in that,” said John. “If we’re going to do well tomorrow we need a clear head.”

Gavin nodded, “Carac has already gone to his bed and I’m off to join him.” As they climbed the stairs. John bid him goodnight and walked along the passage,
he saw a light shinning under a well known door and tapped on it.

“Come in,” was the quiet response. He opened the door and entered the work room.

Tania was sitting by the fire with her maid. “Hello John, I hoped you would see the light.”

John stood in the middle of the room not knowing what to do. He looked at Tania and then at the maid.

“I am so pleased to see you Tania, I have sorely missed you.”

Tania looked at him. “My father knows I am here and as long as my maid is with me we can talk. I have missed you too, every day has been so hard to get
through.” John moved closer and sat next to her, glancing at the maid, he took Tania’s hand and looked into her eyes, they were filled with tears.

“How long will you be here, is there some way your father will let you stay?”

“No, John, I am to return to Lincoln with Sir Robert.”

“Then I will come to Lincoln.”

“No John, to do that would spoil everything. Serve my father well and that is the best way for us to be together. I know it is hard, and I want us be
together now but the wait will be worth it I know.”

John looked crestfallen and Tania smiled at him saying,“you know I love you, be patient.”

John looked at the maid and reached for Tania, gave her a kiss and said, ”I hear you and I will try, but not for too long.”

John was in a black mood as he walked down the passage, he did not go to his room but climbed the stairs to the battlements. As he walked in the night air
he gradually calmed down. Tania was right, Sir Cedric would never permit her to be with him without he gained some status and that meant gaining a
Knighthood. John looked up at the stars and promised he would reach that goal or die in the attempt.

Rising early John was down at the stables preparing his new mount, the destrier. He had named him ‘Hammer’ he thought it went with Anvil and he intended
that his mount would ‘Hammer’ the foe. Hammer’s coat shone in the morning light, he was a very proud horse and stood tall as John adjusted the saddle and
trapper, he did not armour the horse as the serious jousting did not start until tomorrow. Carac and Gavin came in and all three prepared Sir Cedric’s
mount as the rest of the Squires arrived and the stables became a hive of noisy activity. John, Gavin and Carac tied their mounts to rings set in the
Castle wall and John led Snow, Sir Cedric’s destrier, to the Castle door. The three men went back to their rooms and donned their armour, just padded
jerkin covered with a chain mail vest, a breast and back plate, greaves for the legs and besagues for the upper arm and shoulder. They also had their own
helms, John’s had no visor but it covered most of his face. They all stomped down to the bailey where Sir Cedric was waiting, he stood by the mounting
block dressed in complete armour, his helm had an eagle on the crown with gold and red feathers waving in the wind. John and his companions stood in awe
and as the Earl lifted his visor they could see he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Does you good to dress up occasionally,” he chuckled as he mounted Snow.

The entourage moved off Sir Cedric leading with John at his side holding his lance followed by Carac and Gavin. The visiting Knights had already gone down
to their encampments and were preparing to join Sir Cedric in a grand parade.

II

Roger had arranged for the brothers to look after Roland who was still slipping in and out of consciousness.

The Prior assured him that all would be done to look after his friend. Roger had purchased a small cart and had trained his horse to pull it, not that the
horse liked it much, he packed camping equipment and his bow and quiver. “Come on Laila, time to join Sir Robert’s group, they are camped on the edge of
town.” Roger put his saddle in the cart and helped Laila to the seat. They trotted out to the campsite that was already being packed up.

“We’ll join that group over there,” said Roger. “There is a couple of women with them so you won't feel lonely.”

They introduced themselves and Roger talked to the leader of the little band a man named Robert Hud. Among his companions there was a tall and muscular
man. Roger thought, if he is in the wrestling, I’m not. The caravan wound it’s way south at a gentle pace as they had allowed plenty of time to make
Wymondham before the Tournament. Roger found his travelling companions very interesting. It seemed as though they had no particular trade, hiring out as
mercenaries, or something like that. Robert and his female friend also spoke with a cultured accent and had obviously had some education. They were careful
to keep out of Sir Robert’s sight, which intrigued Roger, their explanation was that they had not paid some taxes that were due. The party came in sight of
the Tournament and as they came within hailing distance they were directed to camping sites. Sir Robert and his men went up to the Castle to join the other
guests. After Roger had pitched their tent and unharnessed his horse he walk around the area to familiarise himself as to where the action would take
place. He noticed a Squire directing men putting up the main stand where their host and dignitaries would be watching from, there was something familiar
about him. Roger walked over to the place where he had last seen him but he was nowhere in sight. He asked one of the workmen who the man was.

“That is one of Sir Cedric’s Squires, his name is John,” replied the man. It can’t be who I thought it was, considered Roger, he did not know any Knights
only my father. Still puzzled Roger went back to Laila who had been cooking a meal for them. “Thanks Laila, that’s just what I need. Have you spoken to our
travelling companions any more?” asked Roger.

“I’ve spoken to one of the women and they say they have come to win some of the competitions, Robert, or Rob, as he likes to be called, is a very good
archer and I guess the big one, called John, will win the wrestling. The rest of them are just ordinary men, one of them tried it on with me but I soon put
him off.” “He will have me to answer to if he tries that again,” said Roger.