Chapter 14

True to his word, the proclamation was made the following day. Word spread like wildfire, with merchants tripping all over themselves waiting on my wives as they made their way through London’s shops. Their retinue had grown considerably when they returned with green silk, seamstresses, and women to do embroidery.

Aside from finally getting them to come out long enough to make a trip to the Abbey to marry Mei and Philippa, I only saw them at meals and at night. Well, they did drag me into seamstress central long enough to be fitted for my new outfit. One of the younger girls blushed furiously when she had to take measurements for my pants. After that, they would send someone, usually the same poor younger girl, to our room for the fittings.

Nobles and relatives began arriving several days later. The biggest surprise was Sebastian’s arrival since it would take over a week for the message to reach him. Evidently, he’d personally gone to Rouen with the alfalfa seeds to thank me and heard there about the ceremony. My mother, Margaret’s parents, and several other people from Rouen arrived with Sebastian.

Baliol and his brother sailed into London, boisterous as ever and happy to see their daughters and nieces, as well as the grandchildren.

The list grew as unrelated Counts and Kings descended on London from all over Europe. The flags of Holland, Denmark, Sweden, and even Portugal flew over ships of state arriving in London. Each arrival entailed the dispatch of a messenger to the castle seeking permission for their Sovereign to dock safely.

King Dinis of Portugal had been on his way to Rouen, sailing in Sebastian’s wake, hoping to ally himself with us after seeing what we did to Castile and France.

Count John I of Holland arrived, nervous at the news that Flanders was now a part of Normandy and was English territory. Having been raised in King Edward’s court and recently married his daughter Elizabeth, John currently found himself on the wrong side of a trade and territorial dispute. His regent tried to maintain neutrality with France and England, but the cities were pressuring them to side with France. Obviously, the cities didn’t understand that France was not interested in hostilities with England in any form.

King Edward, King Philip, Guy, John, and I spent the better part of an afternoon mediating the issue. In the end, Guy agreed to allow Zeeland to become a separate County with his son as the Count. Still concerned for his own health and safety when he returned to Holland as well as the ability to wrest political control from the cities, John finally chose to annex Holland to Normandy. I promised five thousand of my Iberian troops to regain control of the cities and sent a messenger to Rouen to have them depart immediately for London.

Once we finished, Zhou claimed John, worried about his health. After I reassured John that Zhou really knew what he was doing, Zhou found a room and began the pincushion treatment. He also sent for Mei’s mother, Gia, and her herbs. Zhou spent a lot of time with John, discovering that he was slowly being poisoned. Zhou even went with us to Holland when we left so he could continue monitoring John’s health.

Erik of Denmark came seeking aid consolidating his rule in Denmark. He was having trouble wresting power from the two archbishops and was unable to get his nobles to approve new taxes to build the castles necessary to defend their southern border.

King Eric of Sweden used the opportunity to reiterate trade agreements with England, especially with the recent addition and rapid expansion of Normandy. By the time the Kings adjourned for the night on Friday, they had a signed treaty recognizing and agreeing to defend each other’s current borders, with the exception of Denmark. They felt his country was too unstable right now to pledge their protection, but they promised not to attack.

I would escort the young King of Denmark home with troops of my own to remove the belligerent archbishops and their supporters. I revised the message to Rouen to include the best twenty-five hundred of my mounted archers, the “Demons,” and a bunch of Ru’s “surprises.” I had taken King Edward away from town a few days ago and demonstrated one of the explosives for him. He was impressed but didn’t really see much use militarily except to surprise and frighten an enemy. I didn’t argue with him, but I’d seen them work and had a few more ideas ruminating.

The solemn procession from London to St. Peter’s Abbey took forever, but I was in high spirits and good company as I rode behind the Kings who rode seven-abreast ahead of me. Tens of thousands of cheering English citizens lined the route to see me following behind the seven Kings. My wives, my mother, and King Edward’s wives rode in carriages behind me, my personal banner flying proudly from the carriages my wives and mother were riding in.

Aside from embroidering the dresses my wives were wearing, the embroiderers had been busy creating flags for the carriages. Two flags similar to my battle banner had been crafted. The symbols of my troops in the corners had been replaced by the red rose of Lancaster, the white rose of York, and the two crouching leopards of Normandy. The fourth corner was empty. Two additional flags had been crafted exactly the same as the first two except the fourth corner contained a sword behind the Plantagenet shield, a red shield with three crouching leopards. Immediately after the ceremony, the flags would be switched, and the original two would later have the fourth corner embroidered.

King Edward’s armorer had also been busy, and King Edward presented me with a brand-new proofed chain mail shirt and a beautifully engraved sword. He insisted that I retire my father’s sword and use this one, as it was one of the finest in Europe. His wives had a coverlet made to wear over the armor with my new flag embroidered on it.

The ceremony itself was long and tedious and I was immensely glad when it was finished. Seeing my beaming wives and mother in their matching green silk dresses made it worthwhile, though. When we finally arrived back at the castle after the ceremony, the hundreds of nobles and other guests offered their congratulations, although several of the English nobles didn’t seem very sincere. I made a mental note of those.

That night, while we were recuperating, Mei’s mother Gia gave me a small bamboo tube filled with a black powder of some sort. With Gisela translating, she explained that since I was now responsible for the King’s son, she wanted to help make sure the King lived a long life. The tube was filled with ground up charcoal and I should give it to the King. If he ever felt symptoms of poisoning, he should mix it with water and drink it, and the poisoning should go away over a few days. I’d never heard of such a thing but passed it on to King Edward anyway. Since then, Gia has made many more necklaces, usually with a small glass vial instead of bamboo, and King Edward’s wives and mine all wear one every day.

Four days after the ceremony, my troops and I accompanied Count John I when he sailed from London for Holland. We landed near The Hague. I had been surprised to learn that the constitutional capital was Amsterdam, but the cities of Leiden, Delft, and Dordrecht had forced the government center to move to the new city of The Hague. So much political power in the hands of the cities did not bode well for political stability in the county.

Two days after arriving, we moved everyone and everything associated with the government back to Amsterdam, putting the bullying cities on notice. With a long parade of wagons, the trip took two days. We passed by Leiden the first day, watching warily for any signs of aggression. I was fairly sure they wouldn’t try anything alone, preferring to get help from the other big cities we had also disrespected. Word had already reached Amsterdam by the time we arrived, and the city was in a festive mood.

While John set up the new home for his government, with lots of enthusiastic help from the locals, we set up our defenses, sure that there would soon be a military challenge. Rolt and Echeverz surveyed the surrounding area, determining possible attack routes and strategies. Our scouts covered all potential routes to the city, including the river to the north. If they tried that route, they would be in for a rude shock. One small, maneuverable boat with twenty archers aboard could put four hundred burning arrows into any ship in a very short time, as could mounted archers along the river. Ru concocted a powder that would burn rather than explode. Wrapped in cloth around the shaft of an arrow, the fuse could be lit, and the burning arrow stuck into the wood or sails of an enemy ship. Rolt’s men had six thousand such arrows with them, enough to put a serious dent in an enemy fleet.

Each of our scouts had another gift from Ru, an eighteen-inch-long wood cylinder reinforced with sinew. The center had been hollowed out, leaving a plug in one end. From the tube, a paper-covered projectile could be fired into the air, bursting high in the sky, alerting people for nearly ten miles, and definitely giving us time to prepare for an attack. Ru explained that these were similar to the fireworks used for celebrations in China.

Most of our preparations were for an attack from the south. If necessary, we could easily shift to the west. An attack from the north or east would be their worst choice, both because their troops would have to sail up the Amstel River and then debark at the docks--if they made it that far. With scouts along the coast, we’d have plenty of advance warning and could attack their ships as they made their way upriver.

A week later, travelers arriving in Amsterdam were talking about troops moving north. Some travelers warned of troops moving from Rotterdam and Delft to Leiden while others spoke of troops moving from Dordrecht towards Utrecht. The tactic actually made sense, a two-pronged attack from the southeast and the southwest. I wondered if there was going to be a third prong, one meant to be a surprise, possibly a delayed river invasion once we were involved with the attacks from the south.

John was ready to send out scouts dressed as travelers to check the rumors when Rolt rode in. “There are about six thousand troops coming up from Leiden that should be here before midday. They have about two thousand cavalry, a thousand crossbows, a thousand spearmen, and two thousand swordsmen. Another four thousand troops are marching from Utrecht and should arrive tomorrow evening. They have about one thousand each of cavalry, crossbowmen, spearmen, and swordsmen. No fleets have passed by within sight of the river,” he reported. Assuming that their attack was scheduled for two days from now, a fleet still had plenty of time to get here.

I rode with the Demons around midnight as we approached the camp of the Leiden troops. We had Twitchy, one of Sniffy’s numerous offspring leading the way.

Rolt already had advance scouts hiding in the area prepared to take out the sentries. A thousand Iberian cavalry rode right behind us, finally splitting off to ride wide around and then behind the Leiden troops. While they got into position, the Demons began picking off sentries, slowly working their way closer to the main camp.

Much later, I was high in a tree when the fireworks began. Having gotten close enough, the Demons threw twenty grenades into the tents and area where the enemy archers were sleeping and ignited one of their wagons of hay. All too soon, my allotted twenty-five arrows were gone. Following Rolt’s orders, I joined the other Demons and quickly slid down my rope and ran for our horses. As I was sliding down the rope, I heard the baleful Demon wail from the bagpipe player. Even knowing what it was, it sent chills down my spine.

The last few archers lit the rest of the hay wagons on fire, leaving the Leiden camp a confused, frightened, bloody, burning mess. I found out later that twenty of Rolt’s men had a special clawed tool made for them. Many of the sentries who were killed with arrows had afterwards been “clawed” across the neck, face, or chest, making it look as if they had been killed by a wild animal. The demon wailed several more times before we finally reached our horses.

By then, the Iberian cavalry had ridden through the edges of their camp letting the Leiden troops taste the cold steel of their swords and picking up hundreds of deserters as prisoners. With as much damage as we inflicted, by far the worst was getting away with or driving off most of their horses. Their arrival at Amsterdam wouldn’t be nearly as grand without Knights leading the parade seated proudly atop their prancing horses. Plus. they’d have a hell of a time marching in their heavy armor.

The mood was jubilant when we returned with shouts of “Hunters returning.” I quizzed Rolt and he explained that shouting “Demons returning,” might upset the locals. Mindful of the French attempt to repay our surprise attack with one of their own, we doubled our sentries while the rest of us slept.

Grinning, and with his face still stained by red clay he’d used, Rolt reported again just after noon. They had lined a section of the road the Utrecht troops were using with larger than usual grenades and set them off while their archers were passing by, injuring, and killing hundreds of them. Seeing a small cadre of only a hundred or so of our mounted archers dismount atop a small rise in the road about half a mile away, their cavalry had charged, only to be annihilated before they could get close to those same hundred bowmen. When the front row of charging horses went down three hundred yards short of their goal, the horses farther back fell over them or stopped, and the riders were easy targets.

While the Demons slept, we prepared for battle. Our scouts reported periodically and seemed to concur that the army was pressing, trying to get here well before dark. I guess they didn’t want to chance another night attack by the Demons and hoped to force a battle this afternoon. By midday, there were still no reports of ships entering the river aside from the occasional trading vessels. Of course, there could always be troops aboard those trading vessels, so our scouts continued watching, and searched each vessel that docked.

Rolt and company left midafternoon. Considering the condition the two attacking armies were in, I went out to meet them with only a thousand archers. The remainder we kept in reserve for any surprises. I figured that, with fewer than two hundred cavalry to face, and with less than a thousand crossbowmen to face before there were only spearmen and light infantry, a thousand archers should be more than enough. Besides, half of the opposing forces would be exhausted from the daylong forced march and from not getting much sleep last night. They would also be demoralized already. Five hundred more archers were inside the castle and a similar number of our Iberian troops were protecting John. The remaining archers, along with the remaining Iberian cavalry were mounted, ready to go where and when they were directed. Our sentries manned four towers on the walls, one facing each direction. Each tower had one of Ru’s warning signals should they spot another approaching enemy column.

We chose the bank of a canal to face them. It left a very large meadow in front of us to give us nearly a thousand yards they would have to cover once the attack started. If they attacked from two directions, Captain Allen would direct three hundred archers to face the smaller Utrecht army and I would face the Leiden army with the rest. Half of the Iberian cavalry was positioned just outside the city walls to sweep down on them, either to help us if we needed it, or to round up the survivors after the battle.

By the time the battle commenced, Rolt and his men should be in the woods a mile or so behind the enemy lines and would use one of Ru’s warning signals to alert us if the enemy planned something sneaky like not bringing up all their troops right away.

While the two battered armies tried to coalesce into an organized unit, one rider headed for the center of the meadow under a flag of truce. Considering what happened last time, I was glad I’d worn Mei’s paper armor again, this time over the new, proofed chainmail the King had given me.

The man was scowling contemptuously when we got close. “What manner of evil sorcery gives you the power to unleash the unholy creatures that attacked my men last night, and to direct lightning among my troops from a cloudless sky? I realize that I will die out here today, but I would rather die killing a vile heretic sorcerer than live in fear the rest of my life,” he shouted reaching for his sword and charging me.

I also reached for my sword, an action I’d performed thousands of times in practice. Usually in practice, when blows were exchanged, we used wooden swords or swords that hadn’t been sharpened yet. I had occasionally used my father’s sword to practice specific maneuvers but had never used it in battle. Until now.

I realized as soon as I gripped the handle this was not my father’s sword; it was the sword the King had given me. Aside from being slightly curved and a little lighter, though, it was a sword, and I raised it to block the one just starting to arc downwards towards me.

The two swords met about a foot from the hilts, but rather than the satisfying, reverberating ring of metal against metal, the clang was somewhat muted as my blade sliced through his and the tip of my sword caught his right shoulder. “More vile sorcery,” he shrieked, sure he was mere moments from death.

“You are as stupid as you are brave,” I yelled as I sheathed my sword. “Have you never heard of Damascus steel sword blades? Do you think the King of England would send the newly appointed Regent for his son into battle with anything less? Do you think the Ghost of Lancaster would arm his cavalry with anything less?” I asked, motioning to the waiting cavalry in the distance.

“Have you ever heard bagpipes being played poorly? That was the demon screams you heard last night. Your men who look like they were clawed were clawed with a steel tool crafted to look make it look like an animal had done it. They were clawed after our archers killed them. The explosions were a new weapon we learned about from a tribe of people living below the Sahara Desert,” I lied, not really wanting to share the secret by telling people it came from China.

“There is no sorcery involved, and the only profane or sacrilegious thing here is you leading a treasonous attack against troops of the King of England, now the rightful Monarch of the Counties of Holland, Zeeland, and Flanders.

“Count John asked of his own free will to be annexed by Normandy, and King Edward and King Philip both agreed. France, England, Castile, Portugal, Denmark, Scotland, and Sweden are all allies now and have recognized each other’s borders and have agreed to come to each other’s aid if attacked,” I said in a condescending tone.

“But you have broken the agreement with the cities and moved the capital back to Amsterdam,” he countered angrily.

“An agreement forced on the Count by the cities involved. No city will tell the Grand Duke of Normandy or the King of England what to do, and if one tries, that city will quickly become a charred pile of rubble,” I threatened.

He fumed about what I said, but I saw the wheels turning. “You saw what only a hundred archers could do in a short time last night. Imagine what a thousand of them can do in the time it will take your men to cross the field to reach them. The last time someone tried, nobody made it even halfway, not even the cavalry. I even have another fifteen hundred archers waiting in town in case they are needed, and another twenty-five hundred cavalry. Are you going to condemn every one of your men to death by attacking us? You have almost no cavalry, and your crossbow archers are useless against us.”

While he nervously considered my words, I decided to demonstrate for him. “Motion for your men to move away from the blue banner and I will prove to you how futile an attack is,” I said, pointing towards the banner of one of the cities.

He looked back and forth between the banner and me several times. “That’s five hundred yards!” he gasped.

“I put an arrow through a man’s head at four hundred yards in the dark and the rain. This bow is even better than the one I used then,” I countered. Deciding to see if I was lying, he motioned for the men to move. They obviously weren’t the brightest lot, and it took him several tries before they realized what he wanted. After we dismounted, he watched as I strung my bow and took out an arrow. Taking barely a heartbeat to aim, I released the arrow, followed rapidly by four more. In less time than needed to draw a handful of breaths, I put five arrows in the ground mere inches from the pole holding up the banner.