Chapter 29

Thomas woke in the small hours of the night with an uneasy feeling. His movements roused Frost, who stirred to check what he was doing.

“Protect Catherine,” he told his wolf.

Thomas had put Frost in charge of the Princess’s safety for two reasons. The obvious one was that he wanted to know his new wife was out of harm’s way. The second was that he knew Frost would not stand a chance if she found herself mixed up in a battle with so many armed men. It would gut him if anything happened to either of them.

Thomas stepped out of his tent and saw a messenger enter Nathan’s.

“Huh? What?” mumbled Nathan. “What’s going on?”

“The sentries are reporting noises—low chatter—from the field, and pounding and hammering noises from the Virdenese lines. You told us to wake you if anything unusual came up.”

“Well, we’re not going to do anything tonight about whatever’s going on in the Virdenese camp. Too many of them, not enough of us, and no good way to surprise them. I suppose we ought to try to see what’s happening closer in, though. Gather our artillery commanders,” Nathan ordered.

As he exited his tent, he noticed Thomas.

“Mind if I tag along?”

Nathan shook his head, as much to help wake up as to indicate he didn’t mind.

“That’s probably a good idea. We might need your help,” Nathan decided.

Minutes later, an artillery commander met them in the command tent, sleep still in his eyes.

“Yes, sir? What can I do for you?” the commander asked and then stated the obvious. “We can’t really see to hit anything in the dark.”

“I recall that you were supposed to have a small amount of ammunition that can carry fire to the enemy. Do you still have it?” Nathan asked.

“Yes, sir. We have a few pitch-balls,” the commander answered and then turned to Thomas. “Bundles of sticks coated with pine tar for the trebuchets. We also have bolts with pitch-covered twigs and rags on them for the ballistae. But we’ve never really figured out what we might shoot them at.”

“I want you to send a pitch-ball out to the field barrier near where the chevaux are. Can you do that? And maybe prepare a couple of the ballista bolts to follow? And can you do this now?” Nathan asked.

“I’ll wake some crews and make this happen right away, sir. The pitch-ball first, and the ballista bolts on your command, right?” the commander asked.

“Correct. I’ll be along momentarily.”

When the artillery commander left, Thomas turned to Nathan.

“I think you’re right. There are some Virdenese up to no good,” Thomas shared.

Nathan gave Thomas a strange look. Thomas was sure that word had reached the veteran about Thomas’s uncanny knowledgeability.

Nathan and Thomas arrived at the trebuchet in short order. They were shown the pitch-ball, a dense, heavy ball of sticks and twigs soaked in pitch. It was picked up by two men using iron hooks with handles. The reason for hooks quickly became apparent. A small torch was applied to the pitch-ball, which quickly became engulfed in flames, with burning droplets falling to the ground as the pitch began to melt from the heat.

The burning projectile was placed into the rope-and-leather sling, which had just been doused with water to protect it. The loose end of the sling was slipped over the iron hook at the tip of the long pole arm of the trebuchet. It was ready to be launched.

A lever was thrown to unhook the pole arm from the rope holding it down. Immediately, a massive counterweight—the size of a small cabin and filled with almost a ton of boulders and rubble—dropped, snapping the pole arm with its flaming burden into the night sky.

Near the top of its arc, the loose end of the sling came off the hook, and the pitch-ball lit up the sky as it traced a fiery trajectory into the field. On contact, it burst apart, scattering its flaming burden over an area of a few yards, revealing men among the chevaux de frise.

“Shoot a couple of flaming ballista bolts so we can see better. Try to land them on their points so they’ll stand on end in the ground.” Nathan said,

This was done by cranking the ballistae up to a high elevation. When fired, one of the bolts ended up pinning a man to the earth. The Virdenese could be seen to be engaged in cutting the ropes tying the barriers to the stumps in the field, and dragging the loosened hedgehogs aside. That opened lanes through which the enemy’s soldiers could move quickly when they returned to give battle.

“Well, we can’t have that,” Nathan said.

“I’ll summon the Guard. They’ll make short work of this, and then we can see about putting everything back in order,” Thomas said.

Torun was informed, and the Royal Guard was quickly mustered. Once they were formed up, they were sent to deal with the infiltrators. Thomas soon saw them emerge into the light still burning among the barriers. They could be seen hacking down the enemy workmen, who promptly scampered back to the Virdenese lines.

Torun left a few pickets behind to provide early warning of any further nocturnal visits by the enemy, and the bulk of the Royal Guard returned to their blankets.

Thomas was up early and could see a substantial work party had been organized in the predawn gloom. He supplied both Royal Guard and Rangers to protect them. The archers and workmen could outrun any sortie of men-at-arms from the Virdenese lines. And they could shelter behind the chevaux de frise from any cavalry sortie while the archers picked off the horses and their riders.

When the work party was well along in its repair efforts and the barriers were back in place, their attention turned to securing them again to the stumps. The Virdenese cavalry, over a hundred mounted knights and sergeants, filed out through the opening in the Virdenese palisade and assembled in a rough line.

As one, they began trotting toward the barrier line at a pace that would take them several minutes to cross the field. While they indeed looked formidable, they would only be able to cross the barrier line through the intentional gaps. Those had proven to be deadly kill zones for the defenders’ trebuchets and ballistae the previous day.

Thomas and his men quickly took position on the outer wall to provide cover fire. He’d put Griffin in charge of protecting the work party.

“Time to go,” Griffin ordered the workmen.

They picked up their tools and jogged toward the fortress. If circumstances permitted, they would return to finish the job. The archers waited while the workmen passed behind them toward the entrance to the defenses.

Behind The Main Wall:
Jacob could see that his father, Duke Andric, was on the verge of an apoplectic fit. He only kept his composure because he was talking to his King.

“The Virdenese cavalry will roll right over our men. You have to let me take our cavalry out to oppose them. The best defense against cavalry is better cavalry, and we’re the best.”

King Edward waved a hand in dismissal.

“The best defense against cavalry appears to be chevaux de frise, caltrops, and archers. I would prefer your horsemen to remain in reserve for now.”

Andric’s face got even redder, which no one watching thought possible, as he clenched his fists and spoke in a low but emphatic voice.

“Sire, there is no better place to use our cavalry than in the open field. Horsemen can’t fight from behind walls and hedgehogs!”

Jacob cringed at his father’s display. His father seemed unaware that the same disadvantages would apply to the Virdenese force. Without waiting for another word from the King, Duke Andric turned on his heel and strode to his horse, shouting,

“Mount up, men! Squire, my helmet and lance! We ride!”

Jacob’s distress was visible on his face as he grasped his father’s forearm.

“No, Father. This is a mistake. Please, listen to King Edward.”

Duke Andric wrenched his arm from his son’s grasp.

“Stay here if you will,” and then raised his voice. “Mount up, mount up! We ride to glory!”

At the duke’s words, his horsemen leaped into their saddles. Jacob looked to King Edward for help, but the King had turned his back and began to walk away. Jacob knew that his father would pay the price for defying his King.

Jacob mounted his horse so he could follow his father toward the gate and through it. The cavalry galloped down the road. It had been cleared of its barriers to readmit the working party and its defending archers.

The returning workers and archers dove to either side to avoid being trampled by their supposed ‘protectors.’

Jacob had a bad feeling as they entered the field.

Thomas found King Edward quickly climbing the wall to join him. From down below, the King called up.

“Duke Andric’s cavalry is determined to join the Virdenese in battle. Hold your fire so as not to hit any of them.”

“Hold fast! Hold fast!” Thomas repeated.

He saw that both his bowmen and the artillery had heard him.

King Edward joined Thomas on the wall. The Virdenese mounted warriors were just picking their way through the barriers into the beaten zone of the defending artillery, which was loaded and poised to punish them. Thomas looked at King Edward, wanting to ask permission to fire, but the King shook his head ‘no.’

Duke Andric’s troop of sixty horsemen, having had a much shorter distance to cover, had arrived at Abingdon’s side of the barriers at about the same time. A clash began in the gaps, where only a few horsemen from either side could pass through at once.

This at least had the benefit of preventing the superior numbers of Virdenese riders from flanking or overwhelming their opponents. Still, however splendidly mounted and well-trained Duke Andric’s men might have been, they were less experienced at mounted combat than the Virdenese. That fact, plus the superior numbers of the enemy, took a toll.

“On me, men, and back at them!” Duke Andric called to rally his riders.

The duke spurred his mount toward the gap from which the Virdenese knights were beginning to emerge, and the lance of one of their leaders took Duke Andric’s horse full in the chest. The lance snapped, but Duke Andric’s horse went down like a poleaxed steer, and Duke Andric himself was thrown onto the spikes of the chevaux.

Seeing this, Jacob and his companions swung in from the flank like madmen, taking down the leading elements of the Virdenese cavalry, which reeled back in confusion. At that point, both sides had taken so many casualties that neither was prepared to continue the fight. A much reduced and bloodied Virdenese cavalry began to withdraw.

Thomas watched in horror as he saw Jacob, tears streaming down his face, drop to the ground. He rushed to his father, who was impaled on the hedgehog. With some effort, Jacob was able to free his father.

Thomas’s first instinct was to go to Duke Andric and heal him. When he saw the amount of blood on the ground, though, he knew that even if he were able to knit his flesh back together, the duke would still die.

“To me, men! Help me put my father on a horse and take him back to the fortress in honor,” Jacob said.

Thomas’s heart went out to his close friend. He knew that Jacob loved his father dearly. Two of the duke’s men helped Jacob and then stationed themselves on either side of the duke’s horse. This allowed them to ensure that the duke wouldn’t fall off as they quickly returned to the camp.

Seeing this and smelling victory, the Virdenese cavalry commander rallied his troops, which still outnumbered the Abingdon mounted force, and headed them back through the barriers. This enraged Thomas.

“Kill them! Kill them all!” he ordered.

King Edward, seeing that his heir had the situation in hand, left to see to his duke.

This time, Abingdon’s heavy cavalry was not in the line of fire, and the trebuchets and ballistae began to rain death on the slow-moving knights weaving between the barriers. Thomas’s archers and crossbowmen added to the barrage.

More than a few got through, though, and galloped up the road as it wove below the walls while arrows and bolts rained down upon them. They hoped to get through the gates while they were still open to receive the retreating defenders.

To Thomas’s dismay, the Virdenese horse succeeded, though their flagging chargers could no longer gallop. Instead, they trotted up the straight stretch of the approach road. The Virdenese cavalry found themselves hemmed in between two walls higher than their lances could reach. A barrier of chevaux stacked three together and almost eight feet tall cunningly swung across the road to their front and wedged in place.