Free 29 - The Oath by Michael Jecks Page A

group of fourteen rich men controlled the city and refused to countenance the justifiable demands of other burgesses to be allowed the same privileges and rights. The matter had come to a head eleven years ago, in the eighth and ninth years of the King’s reign. First, the King was petitioned by the fourteen to have judges listen to their issues, because they were sure that they would win the matter and retain their powers. But when the judges arrived and took up their positions in the Guild Hall to open the case, a mob began to riot, convinced that the judges were biased in favour of the few instead of the majority. Harsh words were spoken, some stones thrown, and it was said that twenty or more men lay dead at the end of the fight.
    Many claimed that the garrison was responsible, that the mob was innocent, but it didn’t help the city. Eighty of the inhabitants were to be attached and held for judgement; they would be declared outlaw if they did not surrender themselves. However, they preferred to conceal themselves in the city, and as the situation deteriorated and the fourteen fled the city, terrified of retaliation, the city itself closed the gates and prepared for war.
    The townspeople declared that the city was not rebelling against the King, but Edward II would hear none of it. His position was simple: they had rebelled against his Justices, and that meant against him. He sent the Earl of Pembroke to demand surrender, but the city refused, and the fighting began.
    It was thoroughly one-sided. The river was blocked by Sir Maurice de Berkeley, while the siege was prosecuted by Sir Bartholomew Badlesmere and Sir Roger Mortimer, who had called on the posse comitatus to prosecute the campaign. The castle remained in the King’s possession, and Mortimer’s strategic mind saw how to force the capitulation of the city. It was he who decided where to position the great mangonel or catapult machine in the castle, and it soon started to destroy buildings, while the posse outside the city laid to with a vengeance. Attacked from both sides, there was little the citizens could do, and they surrendered after a few days.
    And now this same Mortimer was returned, this time with a large force of Hainaulters, and if the city were to attempt to hold out again, history would repeat itself.
    Sir Laurence narrowed his eyes. Yes, but in the years since the last siege, the city had invested a lot of money in rebuilding the walls to make them more secure. So it might just be possible to keep Mortimer at bay. Not an easy task, but one surely worth attempting.
    One thing was for certain: there would be no help from the King. All that could be done must be done by the city alone – if the city could do aught to defend Edward’s interests.
    David carefully folded the parchment and sat for a long time staring at it. ‘The city will fall,’ he said simply.
    Sir Laurence stood, his chair grating over the boards. ‘It will not!’ he growled. ‘While I live, I will keep this city for the King, and protect it as I may!’
    ‘Sir Laurence, the Queen will soon be here. And she has artillery with her, you can be sure. Think what those machines will do to the city, and to the people. The King wants your men; there will not be enough to protect the city and the castle, will there?’
    ‘I will not allow it to fall,’ Sir Laurence repeated.
    Then he left the room and walked up the narrow staircase to the north-eastern tower, frowning over the town from the wall at the top.
    The city was sprawled beneath him, bounded by the two rivers. He was looking down over St Peter’s to the Avon now, a broad, sluggish river today. He turned and stared over the long, rectangular yard enclosed by the outer walls of the castle, and then beyond, musing.
    There was one thing he was certain of, and that was, while his King wanted Bristol kept, Sir Laurence would do all in his power to hold it. He wouldn’t give it up willingly to a rebel like Mortimer. It was a