We moved up through trees. The first Scot we found was close to a tree. His throat had been cut. He must have been a sentry and in the process of making water for the ground was wet. As we moved up the slope we saw more dead Scots. I knew that our luck could not hold and I was grateful that there was a line of archers before us. They would be at the edge of the trees and their bows would have the camp covered. I heard a shout from before us.
“Ralph, sound the horn three times.” The night was shattered by the three strident notes. I drew my sword and swung my shield from around my back. I moved up the slope and saw the archers with drawn bows. Even as I approached they released and I heard the cries from their victims. To the west I heard a horn sound three times. It was Sir John. He had heard the signal and was preparing to charge. This was the moment for the knights of Durham to atone for the cowardice of a handful of knights.
The camp was in a state of confusion. Horns sounded all around them and arrows were coming from the woods. Wilfred would be leading my men at arms across the bridge. The Scots would be attacked on three sides. This would be a test of Lord Balliol and his strategy. With Samuel and Ralph by my side we burst into the camp. They were awake but not ready for war. Few had armour and men were scrambling around for weapons. I blocked a blow from a pole axe as I swept my sword sideways into a warrior who was trying to spear my son. This was an unknown country for the two young knights. This was not a tourney. This was a brutal battle where anything was allowed. You needed the reactions of a fox and the determination and guile of a wolf.
I saw a Scottish knight. He was mailed and ready for war. He ran towards me wielding a war axe. I balanced myself and made certain that my shield was angled so that anything less than a horizontal strike would slide down it. I held my sword behind me. It would disguise my intention. I noticed that he was bigger than I was. Unless he kept his feet wide then a swinging blow with an axe could unbalance him. Around me I heard the clash of metal on metal and the screams and cries as men died. Even as I approached the knight I saw an arrow fly from behind me and impale the Scot who was rushing to the knight’s aid.
The Scottish knight saw the flight of the arrow and he rushed to close with me before a second one hit him. He swung too early. I was able to shift my weight and move inside the strike. It was the haft which hit my shield and not the edged blade of the weapon. I lunged with my sword not at his middle, his shield protected that, but his thigh. My sword came away bloody and as he cursed I stepped back and ducked as the axe swung over my head. The knight was angry and that is never the best way to fight.
“Cowardly trickster!”
As he shouted and raised his axe I spun around and brought my sword into his right side. It bit through to his ribs. As I pulled out the blade he crumpled in a heap.
Looking around for my next opponent I heard the thunder of hooves. Sir John was leading the knights of Durham into the camp. Although the Scots were being attacked by horses we still had many men left in the camp who were trying to use their numbers to overwhelm us. I saw that Lord Balliol had managed to mount the remainder of his knights and they rode to meet with Sir John. I heard a roar from my right and Wilfred led my men at arms up the road and into the camp. We had the opportunity to capture the camp and attack Lord Balliol and his mounted knights.
“Cleveland! To me!”
My knights and men at arms joined me as my archers formed a line behind us and started to shower arrows in a more organised way. Once they had cleared the ground before us I shouted, “Wedge!” This time I was flanked by Sir Harold and Sir Tristan. The rest of my men spread out behind us. “We run!”
I began to run. I knew that it would be harder for those behind but most had fought together for more than ten years. Our archers worked in pairs. One released while the other ran after us. Although it slowed down the number of arrows we sent it kept up the same rate of missiles. No one could stand before us. The odd man who survived the arrow storm was easily despatched. From ahead I heard the clash as the two bodies of knights met. It was the sound of neighing horses, screams, metal on wood, wood on metal and the screams of men impaled upon spears. I saw, ahead, the rear of the Scottish line.
Raising my sword, I shouted, “For God, King Henry and the Warlord!” I led my wedge of fifty men into the rear of the Scottish line.
The knights at the rear tried to turn their horses. That was never easy when in a line which was engaged. We had no time for chivalrous strokes and gentlemanly cuts. They were above us and had spears. I swung my sword sideways and hacked through the leg of the first Scot who turned. His spear struck my helmet as the leg was severed and he fell from his horse. My blade must have cut the horse for it reared. This was now a mêlée. Scots raised their spears to strike down at us and my men thrust upwards with their swords. The advantage we held was that we could attack the side without the shield and we could use our own shield for protection. I saw that Wilfred had put his shield over his back and he dragged a knight from his horse and skewered him as he lay on the ground.
We worked our way through the knights. Those at the front who were engaged with Sir John and his men could not turn. I spied Lord Balliol and his squire. Suddenly, as Samuel slew one knight who was close to the Scottish standard, Ralph leapt on to the body and into the saddle. He spurred the horse and hacked into the side of the standard bearer. Balliol’s squire tried to retrieve it but an arrow struck him in the head and he fell.
Ralph held on to the standard and shouted, “Yield, Lord Balliol! I have the standard!”
The Scottish lord looked around and spied me. He pointed his sword at me, “Trickster! I thought you led the charge!”
Just them an arrow flew and struck him in the right arm. He dropped the sword.
“Do you do as Sir Ralph demanded and yield, or will you and your men be butchered?”
He looked around, the blood dripping from the wound. He nodded, “We yield!”
I looked up at Sir Ralph who still held the standard, “And there is something to hang over the fire when you and my daughter have your own castle!”
