Free King Henry's Champion by Griff Hosker Page A

Northumbria was his avowed intent.
    I went directly to see Sir Roger. He was busy with his sergeant at arms and they were walking the ramparts to ensure they were ready for another attack. “The castle looks in a good state of repair, Sir Roger.”
    He nodded, “It is a pity that Bishop Flambard did not finish the work. There is not enough stone here yet.” He pointed to his keep which was half stone and half wood. “That is our strongest part of the castle and yet it is too small.”
    I agreed but this was too far from my home for me to be able to help. I had told him I would press for funds.  It was now imperative that I did so. “When we have ended this threat I will have to take my men south again.  Will you and your garrison be able to defend this crossing after we have gone?”
    “I think so.  We can summon help from Morpeth and Rothbury.”
    “Do not forget Hexham.  Sir Hugh Manningham has the largest number of men at arms in this area.  He is always happy to meet the Scots in battle.”
    He smiled, “I know I saw him leading his men when you swept the enemy from the field. He is a towering figure of a man. I would hate to face such as him and your Wulfric. They are giants!” He looked to the east.  “Will they come again?”
    “Perhaps. Tomorrow will tell.”
    The rest was vital not only for our men but also our horses. They had to carry mailed men into battle. Recovery time was vital for them. The captured animals meant that we were no longer short of food.  Dick and his archers combined scouting with hunting and we had Scottish game in abundance.  It seemed fitting that the Scots were feeding us and the meat we ate tasted even sweeter. Dick reported to me when he delivered the game to the cooks.
    “They are still in their camp, my lord but they have a ring of sentries.  We saw no scouts.”  Berwick was now ringed with sentries but they were defending not attacking.
    I had only managed a couple of hours of snatched sleep and my hard bed called.  I slept better.  My dreams were not haunted by the dead. I was awake early the next morning. My shoulder ached from the hard ground. I understood now why the King always had so much baggage.  He slept well. Others in the camp were up and moving.  Leofric came over with a jug of small beer. “Here, my lord.”
    “Thank you Leofric.” I looked at the eastern sky.  There appeared to be dark rain clouds on the horizon. Clouds from the east meant we would soon have rain for it was a brisk breeze.  “Make sure that my mail is oiled today.  I fear we will have a shower or two ere long.”
    As the camp came to life, so the sky lightened, but not by much. I felt the first spit of rain and knew that my predictions had been correct. My men were warriors first and foremost. As soon as they felt the rain they hurried to don their mail and surcoats. The good news was that the rain would be as much an enemy to the Scots as to us.  We would both have to fight nature. The fires were quickly protected. Relighting a damp fire was a task no one enjoyed.  Food was forgotten as nature decided to give us a dousing. Leofric ran over with my mail.  He grinned, “You must have second sight, my lord, I had just finished oiling it when the rain began.”
    He helped me to put on my mail and then my surcoat. I wondered if this meant the end of the Scottish threat.  Suddenly a horse galloped in.  It was Ralph of Wales who had been waiting at the northern island.  “My lord, the Scots and the rebels, they are coming in force.”
    I nodded, “Discourage their crossing but get all of your men back here as soon as you can. We have few enough archers as it is.”
    Ralph pointed to the skies.  The rain was now crashing to earth.  “This will not help our bow strings, my lord.”
    I nodded. “Do your best.” Wulfric appeared at my side as did Sir Edward and Sir Hugh. “They come.  But they come from the north this time.”
    Sir Edward slid his foot in the mud