The Earl's Man - Cover

The Earl's Man

Copyright© 2023 by FantasyLover

Chapter 4

Skirting around the town, we continued our way north, finding a secluded spot to stop a ways from Baron Fineman’s manor. Shortly after dark, two of our sentries brought in a cavalryman wearing Baron Markham’s insignia. He had refused to stop after they identified themselves as the Crown’s troops and was hurt by falling when they shot his horse out from under him. When he refused to talk, I had my men strip him and tie him so he was hanging horizontally from both feet and both arms about seven feet off the ground. I tied a hemp bowstring (I sure wasn’t going to waste a silk one on him) tightly around his cock and balls, then tied it to a fair-sized rock and let the rock drop. My men cringed as he shrieked loud enough that we could hear it, even through his gag. I stood dispassionately in front of his face until he quit howling enough to hear me.

“Are you ready to tell me everything yet?” I asked. He thought for a moment too long, so I took a firebrand from our tiny cooking fire and approached, singeing the hair on his chest. When he stopped screaming, I asked again. “The next time, the flames go lower. Are you ready to talk yet?” He nodded violently. I gave a second rock to one of the guards. “If he starts to scream, knock him out,” I instructed before removing the gag.

Our reinforcements arrived just in time to hear his sobbed confession. As I had suspected, he was hurrying to warn Baron Fineman about what happened to Baron Markham. I extracted a list of names from him, adding two more to the list I already had. After gagging him again, I removed the bowstring to save it for future use and slit his throat. We buried the body so nobody would find it any time soon.

Once again, the three of us crept into town. This time we ended up with seven families of prisoners. Again, we watched in the early dawn light as the Baron’s Captain rounded up the men he trusted and headed for the Manor House. The Captain had known my father and was saddened by his death.

They waited a little longer than the previous town did to bring their eight prisoners out of the Manor House, and there were dozens of witnesses. Many threw things at the Baron or spat on him as he was dragged across the courtyard and thrown into the wagon. The men had to stop several people from trying to kill him outright. Once the bags of valuables had been loaded, the wagon and accompanying troops headed south with the wagons holding the other seven families. Well outside of town, two thirds of their troops turned and headed east to find us. The others accompanied the wagons, headed for Lancaster. They also had instructions to stop on the way to pick up the family of the man we captured trying to warn Baron Fineman.

Our observations of the village tonight were interesting. We saw a handful of people skulking about well after most homes were dark. All seven of the skulkers entered the same home leading me to conclude it was either those men loyal to the Baron planning something, or men that heard about the uprisings in the other two Baronies and were hoping to do the same here.

I only took nine men with me, leaving the rest to cover us in case we had to make our escape. There was some commotion when we barged into the house, but it died down quickly when the men realized we weren’t the Baron’s troops. The men were a group planning to assassinate the Baron and his supporters, taking their example from the two Baronies that had already successfully captured their baron and the troops supporting the rebellion. I wondered how they’d heard.

We assisted them before we left, capturing the eight men who supported the Baron. Yet again, we left the prisoners bound and under guard in their homes. The Baron put up a fight in the morning and died in the struggle, but his family, his body, his valuables, and his supporters were all loaded into wagons and carted off to Lancaster. Forty more archers joined us later that day.

Two of the new men went with us that night when we snuck into the next town. They guided us to the home of one of their brothers. He in turn, guided us to the ten homes of the Baron’s supporters. Early the next morning, the Baron and his family, as well as the ten supporters and their families were hauled off unceremoniously to Lancaster, amid jeers and curses from the townspeople.

After getting the prisoners on their way to Lancaster, another thirty archers joined us that evening. As usual, we set up camp a mile or so away from Malveston Manor and the usual group of us got as close as we dared and watched as the town went to sleep for the night. Unfortunately, shortly after sunset, and well before it was completely dark, several guards were posted around the outskirts of town. When they set out from the walled Manor House, it looked like a dozen men. Since there were only ten men who supported the Baron, I hoped most of the guards weren’t in favor of the revolt. I was actually grateful when it started drizzling and the guards facing our direction each took shelter on the south or the east side of a building to avoid the rain.

Leaving everyone else behind, ready to release a volley of arrows in my defense if need be, I began creeping through the wet grass and the mud towards the unoccupied side of the building where the closest guard was taking cover. I had to move slowly because he would pop his head around the corner unexpectedly every so often and I didn’t want to have to try running back across this field, which was getting muddier by the moment.

When I was thirty feet from my goal the guard rounded the corner and looked directly at where I was lying, motioning for me to be quiet and not to move. Knowing I’d been discovered, I contemplated running, but the guard hadn’t called out in alarm or raised his bow. Besides, as slow as I’d be able to run in the mud, even a kid could have hit me with a bow at that distance.

I almost panicked and ran anyway when I heard him talking to someone else. The guard and another man rounded the corner of the building talking. “Just the usual rabbits,” the guard said pointing across the field away from where I was. “Are you sure I can’t shoot a couple of them?” he asked.

“Just keep your eyes open for anyone moving about either in town or outside of town,” the second man answered gruffly before stomping off, obviously not happy that he had to be out in the rain.

Moments later, the guard was back. He opened the door of the cottage he was standing guard outside of and said something quietly to someone inside before turning back to me and motioning me over. When I got to him, he hurried me inside and stood in the doorway with his back to me, watching in case the other man returned. His bow was still slung over his shoulder, and his wife was stirring the coals in the fireplace. “Who are you?” he whispered.

“Sir Michael Miller, new Earl of Lancaster,” I answered.

“Are you here to help us capture the Baron and his men?” he asked eagerly.

“That’s the plan,” I answered. He turned, still in the doorway, and bowed.

“Adam Haley at your service, my Lord. How may I be of assistance?”

I explained what we had done in the other Baronies. “There are three of the men you want to capture on guard duty with the rest of us tonight; the man just east of me, the man who came by a few moments ago, and another man watching from the walls of the Manor House. The man who came by here won’t be back for quite a while. He’s probably warming himself in front of his fire right now.” Adam brushed thresh back from a spot on the floor exposing the dirt and used an arrowhead to draw a rough diagram of the manor.

“The man on the walls comes out periodically to check on the guards. We’ll need to get a lot closer before we’re close enough to hit him.”

“How far is it to the walls?” I asked.

“It’s a good four hundred yards. You’ll want to get up near the closest cottage. That will only be about a two-hundred-yard shot,” he explained.

“If you point him out to me, I can hit him from here,” I told him. He stared at me, incredulous.

“If you miss, they will sound an alarm,” he reminded me anxiously.

“I know,” I replied. “What happens when I hit him?” I asked.

“The other guards will probably push his body over the wall, so the Baron doesn’t see it if he looks out, after making sure he’s dead,” he said, grinning and drawing a finger across his throat.

We crept back out to the end of the building so I could see the wall. Fortunately, my cold, soggy wait was fairly short before someone appeared from the small gatehouse atop the wall. “That’s him,” Adam hissed quietly.

“You go take care of the other guard,” I whispered, nodding towards the next guard to the east. I gave him what I felt was enough time to reach the next guard, and then aimed, and released my arrow. I breathed again when the man atop the wall crumpled silently. Moments later, a second man crept out of the gatehouse and pushed the body over the wall just the way Adam had predicted. After a grateful salute in my general direction, he hurried back into the gatehouse.

Adam came back a brief time later. “Right in the head!” he gasped. “I’m going to let the other guards know what’s going on. You wait in my house,” he whispered and scurried off. He was smiling when he returned. “The other guards all know. Once Collins comes back out, we can take him, and then we’ll take the others while they sleep.”

We waited behind the corner of a neighboring cottage, mostly out of the rain, until the door opened. Grumbling to himself about the Baron being afraid of his own shadow, he started his rounds again. Head down, shoulders slouched forward as he walked away from us while trying to stay as dry as possible. It wasn’t even sporting. “Too bad,” I thought as my arrow dropped him silently twenty feet from his doorway.

Adam and I carried the body into the nearby house Adam indicated. The family was awake, and the glee on even the children’s faces was obvious. An attractive young woman that I assumed was their daughter came over, kissed me, and thanked me for helping.

While the family’s husband went out to gather more men, I finally got a chance to talk with Adam. “When did you know I was there?” I asked.

“I knew you were there even before you began creeping across the field. There should have been birds making noise in the woods behind you until well after it got dark, and the rabbits should have come out to forage in the meadow. The Baron heard about the uprisings to the west and was worried it might encourage the people here to try the same thing. I knew there was more to it, though. A different Barony that opposes the King falling in a civil revolt each night is too much of a coincidence. I wasn’t sure how it was being done, but I was sure someone was behind it,” he said, grinning.

“I’m impressed,” I answered, raising the mug of warmed ale towards him in salute.

“You were pretty impressive, too, my Lord. If I hadn’t known you were out there, I probably wouldn’t have seen you,” he admitted.

The eyes of the woman who had served me the warm ale as well as her daughter’s eyes got huge as they backed away and curtsied. “Begging my Lord’s pardon, I didn’t realize,” she said nervously.

“Since I’m not here, it doesn’t really matter, does it?” I asked.

She looked at me, confused. “He doesn’t want anyone to know that he was here, and considering the circumstances, he doesn’t appear to be worried about formalities right now,” Adam explained.

It felt like we waited half the night before the man who had left returned, grinning from ear to ear. “We’ve got all but the Baron and his family,” he panted, winded from hurrying to give us the news and dripping water from the rain. I told Adam what to do with the captives in the morning and asked him specifically to join us with the majority of the archers after they made an appearance of leaving town. Then I slogged back through the muddy field to where my men were waiting.

After watching the captured Baron Rolt and his family, as well as the other captives being unceremoniously dragged through the mud and thrown into the back of an open farm wagon before being covered with a tarp, we headed back to our main camp, laughing about what a spitfire the Baroness was. It took four men to control her and get her into the wagon even though she was bound. We couldn’t make out exactly what she was screaming at the men through her gag, but her tone of voice left little doubt that it wasn’t very ladylike.

Our waiting troops had managed to find shelter under a large group of fir trees with branches dragging on the ground to keep the rain off. We slept until midday before setting out to the next Barony. Adam and forty more mounted archers had joined us by the time I woke up. Adam was regaling the troops with the story of my muddy creep across the field, as well as about my four-hundred-yard shot in the rain and darkness that caught my target in the side of the head.

At the last four Baronies we visited, the Barons and their families, as well as their supporters, had already left for York seeking refuge. One of them tried to force his troops to go, riding his horse into the men when he felt they weren’t marching fast enough to suit him. When he seriously injured one of the men, they turned on him, killing him and his henchmen before returning to their homes with the families of the Baron and his supporters as captives. They sent a messenger to Adam’s Barony to ask what they should do with their captives and were awaiting the messenger’s return.

At each Barony we liberated, I had asked them to prepare as many troops as possible for an attack on York and to send messengers to each of the other liberated Baronies and the Baronies in Lancashire. After the last Barony, I sent messengers to each of the liberated Baronies and to my Baronies in Lancashire asking them to send troops to march on York as quickly as possible. At Captain Weber’s urging, we also asked them to bring supplies in case we ended up besieging York.

It was quite an experience to have women coming up and kissing me. They wanted to thank me when they heard that I was the one behind the attacks capturing the Barons and their men, avoiding the necessity of punishing the men who would have been forced to fight against their will.

We left for York with over four hundred mounted archers, riding through the night and arriving mid-morning. The people were at work in the fields and cheered when we approached, letting us know the Duke and his co-conspirators had all left aboard a ship well after daybreak. Two men rode into York to verify the story. When they returned, we rode in and changed horses, setting out downriver in pursuit of the Duke’s ship. Several local men accompanied us to show us the fastest way so we could get ahead of the ship.

We passed the ship in the late afternoon but continued on to reach the place they suggested for staging our attack. Shortly after sunset, we reached the spot. There was a small rise on both sides of the river to attack from, and the closest beach farther downriver was on our side of the river. We started fires, started gathering pitch, and wrapped arrows with scraps of cloth. By the time the ship reached us, we were ready. From ten fires along the cliff top, a hundred men lit an arrow and launched it into the ship’s rigging; additional arrows were launched into the wood of the ship itself. When the crew tried to put out the fire, we released warning shots at their feet. Someone hurried out on deck waving a white flag of sorts and dropped the ship’s anchor. “We locked the passengers below decks,” he shouted up to us.

We let them put out the fires, tied several ropes together, and then tied the ropes to one of the grappling hook ropes until it was long enough to reach the ship. One of the men, whose build reminded me of Margaret’s father, managed to throw the grappling hook clear out to the ship on his third try and they tied it off to the main mast. We tied our end off to a tree and one of the men volunteered to climb down the rope to verify that the prisoners were secured.

Once he signaled that they were locked up, twenty-five more men climbed down the rope to secure the ship. I went last, sending the rest of the troops ahead to the next town where we could debark. The captain of the ship explained that the Duke had commandeered his ship this morning, forcing his way aboard and forcing him to set sail. They hoped to get downriver where he could find an ocean-going ship headed for Scotland. When we attacked, they left orders to keep sailing and hid in the cargo hold where the crew locked them in.

I had the Captain proceed downriver with orders to stop at the first town to let us off. I had been on several ships before, helping to unload cargo at the Lancaster docks, but those ships were smaller and were usually stationary, either tied up at the docks or stranded in the muck of the estuary until the next tidal flow came in. Being on a moving ship was quite an experience with the deck constantly shifting beneath my feet.

Once the ship docked, we finally let the prisoners out. They came out ready for a fight until they saw twenty-five bowmen facing them, and they could only exit single-file through the narrow door. One at a time the men were secured with shackles borrowed from the local town or ones we brought with us. When we ran out, we simply tied them up. Small children were allowed to remain free as long as they behaved. I was surprised to find the Archbishop of York among the prisoners. Evidently, he cast his lot with the Duke and was trying to escape with the substantial fortune he had amassed over the years.

I compensated the captain for the damage to his ship and for having to waste several days rigging the ship with new sails and sailing back to York for his original cargo. I sent messengers out to cancel the call for troops and had someone find a ship that could carry us to London and arrange for it to sail immediately. Picking out ten men who had served us well, one from each estate, I wrote each a letter appointing them as the temporary bailiff for one of the eight vacancies in York and the two in Lancaster until the King sent someone else. The men who had joined us along the way were sent home with my thanks. Many of the Crown’s troops that came with me from Lancaster joined me aboard the ship to guard 326 prisoners on the trip to London. The rest of them were tasked with returning our horses to Lancaster or London after stopping in York and imprisoning the families of the ten original bandits and the four soldiers involved in the attack on the Earl and the attempted payment afterwards.

Two days later, we docked in London. I told a soldier at the docks who I was and about the prisoners aboard the ship. He left, and when he returned, he had four hundred troops with him to help us accompany the prisoners to the dungeon. He also had horses for us. We were expected by the time we made it to the gates of Kensington and paraded through the gates and across the courtyard, cheered by a large throng of the residents and troops there. Gregory was among the many pages and servants waiting for us at the entrance to the Castle and promptly directed me to the lavishly appointed hunter’s room where a filled tub awaited me. I guess I was still a bit dirty from crawling through the muddy field despite my best attempts to wash up afterwards, and again aboard the ship.

Finally clean and dressed in the new, clean knightly garb that Gregory had brought me, I was directed to the throne room, which was packed with petitioners and visitors as well as with the troops who had arrived with me. “Sir Michael Miller, Earl of Lancaster,” the old man bellowed sonorously as I entered the suddenly hushed room.

The King motioned me forward after I performed a vastly improved genuflection. He had obviously received full reports already from the men who came with me. “Captain Weber has informed me of the success of your campaign. He also informs me that the people of Yorkshire are even more ardently biased in favor of the Crown now than they were before thanks to your tactics. In view of your courage, loyalty, and service to your King, your popularity among the peoples of Yorkshire and Lancashire, and your military prowess, I hereby appoint you Duke of York and Lancaster.”

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