Alternate history: the Anarchy of King Stephen.

[Csargo]

I am for option 2.

[AntiochusIII]

He's back! Woohoo!

...and that really sucks for us. Our guys are wiped out! Well, at least Stephen proves his mettle with that little encounter.

Now, to the choices:

1) That would allow us, again, to consolidate; albeit with a greater risk than before. I wonder though: how does Gloucester knows your move? Some of the barons must've betrayed us! Ah well, they're far away now. I'm wondering though, would that Welsh border army be adequate for a prolonged fight? And surely that is what Gloucester expects us to do?

2) Very risky, just like this chapter. Gloucester might or might not have a great numerical advantage, but at least there is a measure of support gathering around the queen which, unless we intervene directly, will be squashed in no time. The problem is yet another encounter like that which would royally screw Stephen up.

From my impetuous inconsideration, I choose Choice 2. There's no point "consolidating" while the home base is being overrun. Besides, this make for a more ruthlessly aggressive Interactive History. If Stephen reaches his wife then there's a chance to defeat Gloucester right where we need to: London.

[Ludens]

Both options are risky. Linking up with Marcher Lords gives us greater power, but we don't know where they are and how they will respond to the latest debacle. The alternative leaves us more vulnerable, but it is also unexpected and allows us to protect two important holdings. Therefor, I prefer option 2.


On second thought, isn't Stephen's wife the same Maud that later fought against him? Does any knowledgable member know exactly when she decided to make her own claim? It would be disasterous if we reached London only to find out that Maud has turned against us.

[King Henry V]

Queen Maud (English version of Matilda) certainly did not fight against her husband. In fact, when he was captured at Lincoln in 1141, she refused to submit to Stephen's rival, the Empress Matilda (somtimes also referred to as Maud) and organised the fightback with William of Ypres, which led to the Rout of Winchester, which nullified nearly all of the Empress's gains during that year (Gloucester, who was captured, was exchanged for Stephen).

[Ludens]

Thanks for the information. I was confused by the queen's name.

[Kommodus]

Option #2, definitely, for these reasons:

1. The quicker we strike Gloucester, the head of the rebellion, the better.
2. Stephen should not leave his wife to face Gloucester alone. With his current army plus her force, he should have enough to defeat Gloucester's 200 knights.

[King Kurt]

Good to see King Stephen back - my inclination is to go with option 2 - strike at the heart of the problem and move the focus of the whole of the affair to the centre of government as opposed to the edges. The Welsh marches can be sorted out in due course, but we should put the kingdom as a whole right first.

[Flavius Clemens]

Option 2 - we need to see things through to the heart of the matter.
But it is important that we get a message through to the other forces to let them know Stephen wasn't captured and the fight continues, to keep up their morale and battle against local enemy forces.

[Prince Cobra]

There are not many rulers called Stephen. And I definately can not let a king with such a good name to lose his crown. Ok, Lord of Gloucester, one day you will fall and this day is coming. And then the death of Baldwin of Exter will be a nice dream of yours...
Option two. The first one is too risky.

[King Henry V]

The story of our blessed sovereign, Stephen of Blis, King of the English and Duke of the Normans, will return shortly. I am just penning the big scene, afterwhich I shall type it up and post it.
This thread is not dead.

[Csargo]

Can't wait for the next installment King Henry V

[Kraxis]

Great!

I knew it was just a matter of time before you would return.

[King Henry V]

Great!

I knew it was just a matter of time before you would return.

Then you had more faith in me than I did!

[King Henry V]

May 1138, 10 miles south of Worcester.

The sky glowed red like a ruby as the sun set, heralding the end of the days of rain and the distant start of summer. The King’s camp was alive with activity, as Robert Beaumont’s company of soldiers had encamped for the night. Tents were being pitched and great plumes of smoke rose from the cooking fires. King Stephen had retired to his pavilion before dinner, where he rested his weary limbs on his bed. Outside, the cook was busy preparing the food for the King’s table: roasted capons and stuffed quails, meat pies and beef broth, as well as furmenty for the common soldiers. Water was fetched from the nearby stream to mix with the wine and tables were set out for the dinner.

Half an hour later, the sky growing darker and the first stars beginning to appear in the east, the King sat himself down at the head of the table and the feast began. Beside the King sat Robert of Leicester, who was busy informing him of the present situation of the realm.
“Your brother is in Winchester, my liege. He retired there to his castle with his armed retinue when he first heard the rumours that you were captured, or dead.”
“Did he not know these rumours came from the foul mouth of Gloucester?” responded the King.
“My lord, the Bishop is a cautious man. I believe that when he received word of your misfortunes, he proceeded to Winchester to secure the treasury for you should the rumours have been baseless.”
The King seemed satisfied by this answer, though in truth he still had doubts.
And so the evening went on, Stephen asking Robert innumerable questions about who controlled which castles and towns and whether they were loyal to him or rebels. The Earl answered to the best of his ability, for his knowledge was sketchy at best and had to constantly refer to a swarthy, grim knight called Hugh, who would reluctantly stop jabbing at his food with his dagger and curtly reply to his liege’s questions with great reluctance. Stephen was surprised at how a vassal could treat his better with such apparent arrogance, yet Beaumont seemed unperturbed. However, it struck him at how Hugh bore a resemblance to Beaumont, and he wondered whether the young man was Robert’s bastard son. Stephen remembered his own illegitimate child, Gervase, a promising young man with great prospects in the Church.
Stephen began to feel increasingly tired and after another hour of talk with Robert and his chief tenants, he withdrew to his quarters and collapsed on his bed.
The next morning Robert of Leicester’s force separated, the infantry returning to Worcester whilst the knights rode south to London.

A soft and gentle breeze blew from the south as the horsemen cantered along a meadow, riding towards London. They were 150 warriors, mostly made up of Robert of Leicester’s personal retinue.
Stephen rode at the head of the column, next to Hugh who was carrying his master’s banner of the three silver moons.
“How did you come into the Earl’s service?” Stephen asked Hugh, wishingh to confirm his suspicions as tactfully as possible.
“I am one of his bastard whelps,” he replied matter-of-factly. “My mother was a servant girl in his castle at. My father offered me a chance either to become a priest or a soldier. Do you really see me mumbling a few words of Latin in a draughty church every Sunday for the rest of my days?”
“No, I guess not,” said the King. “Have you ever fought anywhere?”
“Yes, twice. Two summers ago I was in Normandy with my uncle the Count of Meulan. We were fighting the Angevins.”
“Did you kill any?”
Hugh cast him a sour look for having asked such an obvious question.
“This,” he thrust his fist towards the King, showing him a jagged scar across the back of his hand, “is where an Angevin struck me with his sword before I shoved my spear into his groin. And he was only one of many who I slew that summer.”
“And where was the other place you fought?”
“Scotland. I lead a raid there across the border. We attacked a castle, burned it and killed the garrison. I was the one who killed the lord. I felled him with one blow of my axe,” Hugh said proudly.
“You seem very sure of yourself,” commented Stephen.
“Why shouldn’t I be? I can fight better than any man, whether he be peasant, baron or even king.”
“That you may be. But I would watch your tongue, young man. Your impudence will do you no good.”
Hugh spat. “I do not play on being a servant for much longer. Whether it be my father or any man.”
“How old are you, Hugh?”
“Three and twenty.”
“And what do you plan to do to gain your ‘freedom’?”
“In a few years I shall form my own company of mercenaries. Then I shall go to the Holy Land to fight the Saracens. I hear that there are great riches to be had there.”
“Ah, the Holy Land. My father fought there. He was killed at Ramla.”
Hugh was silent. He gazed toward the horizon. Stephen gazed at it as well. A lone horseman was riding towards them.

The rider wheeled in his horse as Robert came to the front of the column.
“Your Highness, my Lord,” the rider bowed.
“Ah, Baldwin, what news do you bring from London?” Robert Beaumont asked the messenger.
“The Queen has secured London and the townspeople have flocked to her aid and she has an armed retinue of one hundred Flemish mercenaries and fifty knights of Kent. However, Robert of Gloucester marches on the city with two hundred and fifty horsemen and one one hundred foot, including many Bretons.”
“How so?” asked the King. “We last heard that he was with only two hundred knights.”
“Gloucester was reinforced by Brian Fitz Count in Wallingford. However, as he took some time to amass sufficient men and supplies, he was delayed considerably.”
“And where is he now?”
“At Windsor, my liege, five and twenty miles from here.”
“What does the Queen plan to do?”
“Her Highness intends to ride out to meet him,” answered Baldwin.
“What?” demanded the King. “But this is sheer foolishness!”
“My Lady the Queen does not trust certain members of the garrison of the Tower. She fears that if she is besieged in London, certain traitors will open the gates to Robert of Gloucester.”
“Then where does the Queen intend to meet him?”
“On the road to London, west of Windsor, there is a place where it cuts through a wood.”
“Aye, I know it well,” said the King. “I have hunted there oft times.”
“The Queen will array her soldiers across the road and hopefully Gloucester’s numbers will be impeded from manoeuvring by the trees.”
“Then we shall meet her there. My Lord Robert, how long do you think it will take us to reach Windsor?”
“I reckon we can reach it by night fall if we ride hard and leave th packs horses behind,” answered the Earl of Leicester.
“And how soon will Gloucester reach Windsor?” Stephen asked the messenger.
“In all likelihood sooner than you, my liege. However, the Queen intends to parlay with him as long as possible in order to delay him”.
“Then I pray that Christ and His Angels give the Queen strength this day.” He turned to the messenger. “Baldwin, how much sooner before us can you get to the Queen?”
Baldwin patted the side of his bay mare. “She be a sprite little horse, sire, but I know not whether she be quick enough to get to Her Highness in time.”
“Then ride now as fast as you can and go with God’s speed.”
“Baldwin nodded and galloped off.
“Well my Lord, I believe we have an appointment that we must keep.”

“The last rays of the sun peered the horizon, leaving the rest of the sky a star-strewn blue. A faint smell of flowers hung in the air and the first screeches of the owl could be heard as he swooped down to hunt his nocturnal prey.
The dime glow of campfires could be seen in the distance. Stephen noted with a sense of relief that two sets of fire burned faintly.
Stephen gave the order for Robert Beaumont’s knights to dismount. They did so gladly and rested their saddle weary limbs on the damp ground, though they were denied the comfort of a fire lest it give away their position.
Baldwin was waiting for them in the woods, sitting cross-legged on the ground, his dapple-grey horse tethered to a tree. He rose as the King walked his palfrey over to him.
“Sire,” Baldwin bowed.
“How is my wife the Queen?”
“Her Highness is well my liege. She has managed to delay Robert for the entire with parlays.”
“God be praised,” said the King and dismounted from his horse. “How many men does the Queen have with her?”
“Two hundred and fifty men, sire. The citizens of London aided her with a militia of one hundred men, though if truth be told, they be not of much use since they be poorly armed and trained, my Lord.”
“What has been the result of the parlays?”
“Robert of Caen did demand that the Queen order her supporters to lay down all arms and that she hand over the keys to London, in exchange for a safe passage to the continent and your Highness’ release in due time.”
“And what did Her Highness answer to that?”
“She said that she would consider it and give her answer on the morrow.”
Stephen felt a slight warmth creep through his body despite the coolness of the night air.
“Then it is on the morrow, Baldwin, that we shall fight.”

Thick drops of dew hung on the blades of grass and the spring flowers like tiny glass beads. A thin mist hovered amid the trees as the King stirred from his sleep. Though he longed to see his darling wife Maud, to have gone to his wife’s camp would have been too risky, lest he be seen by one of Gloucester’s men. So the King forsook the comfort of a warm and soft bed next to his wife in exchange for the cold, hard and damp ground on which his cloak was spread.
Stephen was brought a pail of frigid water from the river and he gazed for a few moments at his reflection. The wound he had received to the face at Dinas Bran was healing passably and was now a jagged red line beneath his eye. He felt his thick, fair bristles and noticed the creeping grey hairs. He needed to shave.
“I could lend you a blade if you wish,” said a voice.
Stephen turned. It was Hugh, sitting on a bundled up cloak under a tree as he ran his whetstone with a methodical stroke down the glinting blade of his sword.
“I thank you, but I think it can wait for another day,” replied Stephen. He splashed his face a few times with the icy water and dried himself with a rough piece of cloth which had been given to him and rose. He walked to the edge of the woods and crouched behind a tree. The hill sloped gently away to the edge of the London road fifty yards beyond. He could clearly see the Queen’s encampment a further two hundred years along the road. The Queen had prepared her camp well. Logs, overturned carts and anything which could be found were piled up across the road and the forty yards between the two woods. Armoured men were already standing behind the barrier, their spear points glinting. Robert of Gloucester’s fight was not going to be an easy one.
The rebels’ camp was two hundred yards east of where the King lay in the grass. There was much activity amid the tents. Soldiers were donning their mail coats, horses were trotting to and fro and a handful was still stirring.
The King had already established his plan of attack with Robert of Leicester.

As sentries had not reported any of Gloucester’s soldiers approaching the King’s camp, it was presumed that Robert did not know that the King was present, and that he would thus attack the Queen’s position with all his men. With all Robert’s men committed against the Queen, King Stephen will charge against the rebel’s rear before the latter’s numbers are able to overwhelm the Queen’s weaker soldiers.
With Robert surrounded, he should be easy enough to capture, with which this rebellion should come to a speedy end.

One of Robert Beaumont’s attendants was waiting for Stephen. He led one of the packhorses laden with armour and weapons.
“My Lord, you armour”, said the squire. Since Miles of Gloucester’s ambush four days before, Stephen had been, so he had to borrow all his weaponry from Robert. The King unfastened his cloak brooch and removed his boots before the squire helped him into the mail haubergeon. He fastened the leather cords on the haubergeon’s back and Stephen buckled his sword belt around his waist. He then stepped into the leather and mail leggings which the young squire then secured to the King’s legs with the leather cross gartering. Stephen firmly pulled the mail gloves onto his hands. Finally the King placed his iron conical helmet and tied the two leather thongs around his chin.
A groom brought over the King’s destrier, a black stallion from the marshy coasts of Frisia. Stephen flung himself onto the saddle and firmly gripped the reins.
The squire presented the King a plain blue shield through whose straps Stephen put his left arm whilst the groom handed him his lance which he gripped with his mail fist.
King Stephen was ready for battle.

Robert of Leicester’s knights advanced to the tree line. The King advanced a few paces further until he could see Gloucester’s men arrayed in three columns as they marched towards the Queen’s line.
Stephen watched, and waited.
A flight of half a dozen arrows was shot from the behind the log barrier as Gloucester’s soldiers advanced. They paused, fifty paces away from their opponent’s line.
Then they charged.

As the wave of soldiers swept onto the barrier, the King gave the signal as he returned to this place in the line. The horn sounded and Stephen touched his spurs to his horse’s flanks. The line advanced.
As the knights began the descent down the hill’s slope they gathered momentum, and the trot became a brisk canter across the thick green grass. Getting nearer and nearer to the enemy, Stephen dug his spurs in and his stallion started to gallop, his white mane fluttering in the air. Stephen lowered his lance tip, the enemy rear a mere sixty paces away. He could see Robert of Leicester’s banner flapping wildly in the wind as Stephen couched his land in his armpit. The soldiers at the rear ranks of the enemy turned to face the charge.
The knights crashed into Robert of Gloucester’s ranks with a furious noise as their momentum obliterated much of the resistance set against them. Spears were splintered, shields were shattered and the air was alive with sound of steel stricking steel
The King his lance into an enemy horseman’s back then drew his sword after discarding his broken spear.
He plunged his sword into a foot soldier then withdrew it to hack at another foe. Trapped between the Queen’s soldiers and the barricade on one side and the King and Robert of Leicester’s knights on the other, it seemed as though the Angevins would break at any moment.
Then another horn sounded.
A small column of knights, sixty men at the most, charged into the rear of the Queen’s ranks, where the London militia were holding back Gloucester’s men.
They quailed beneath the shock as the armoured horsemen crashed into their undefended rear.
Stephen reacted immediately. If the Londoners were routed, the rest of the Queen’s soldiers may be panicked enough for the Angevins to overwhelm them still, leaving Robert of Gloucester a chance to escape or even to destroy the King’s knights as well. Fortunately Stephen had been able to persuade his wife to take safety in Windsor, leaving her men under the command of Henry, castellan of Canterbury.
He wheeled his horse around and began to give orders.
“You, you and you, gather forty this instant from the rear ranks. Hurry!” shouted the King. Why had he not thought to keep a reserve?
“Yes, my lord,” said one of the soldiers. It was Hugh again. It was the first time he had ever qualified any of his speech to the King with the recognition that he was his better, and it was not flavoured without a touch of irony.
Still, this was neither the time nor the place to be giving a lesson in manners and Stephen ignored it.
A few moments later a small body of knights had been gathered from the rear, though it left their ranks perilously thin. But it would have to do for now.
The King led the knights around the mass of men and into the thick woods between the river and the road. He deployed the horsemen into a column four ranks deep, with those who still had intact lances at the front.
“Charge!” cried the King and spurred on his horse. The knights charged.
The King’s knights galloped passed the trees and burst out of the woods onto the road. Some of the London milita were running away, down the road toward a hopeful safety. However Stephen took no notice of them as his knights collided with the enemy horsemen at full gallop.
Lacking a lance, the King swung his sword at a foe’s neck, the blade cutting through to the bone, leaving the man’s head hanging on to the rest of his body by his tendons. However, as his attention slipped for a brief moment after his third kill, one of Gloucester’s knights brought his mace down on Stephen’s helmet, dazing him. His vision blurred and another enemy knight approached, axe in hand and ready to strike the killing blow. Stephen slashed his sword out wildly, harmlessly slicing through the air. As he faintly saw a third horseman approach, he knew he was as good as dead.
The he saw the flash of steel and the spray of blood as the third knight sliced the axe-wielding Angevin’s head clean off his body
The latter’s attempts to block his opponent’s sword thrusts with his steel club proved to be in vain and he was left slumped in his saddle, blood trickling from his breast.
Stephen’s vision improved and he turned to see who was the third knight. It was Hugh Fitz Beaumont, his face wearing his ever-present sardonic and arrogant smile.
“My liege,” he bowed with even more sarcasm than before. Then he redressed himself and charged into the fray, where there was fierce lighting around Robert of Gloucester’s banner.
Stephen’s knights were clearly winning. The militia had rallied and the enemy horsemen were surrounded and fighting savagely. The King heard shouts and the thump of hooves on the ground. He turned. Some of the Angevin horsemen had broken through Robert of Leicester’s men on the other side of the banner and were making their escape. A handful of knights pursued them, but they were too few and their hard riding the previous day soon began to tell and the dozen Angevin knights were soon safely away.
King Stephen cursed.
For the rest of Gloucester’s men there was no hope. The ring of Stephen’s supporters around them became tighter and tighter, like a noose around an outlaw’s neck. They were beaten.
Stephen charged towards the last Angevin knights still fiercely defending their banner and he slid his sword deep into a man’s bowels.
He pushed his horse further into the fight, felling another knight until there was only one Angevin left. He was fighting desperately with his sword, a deep gash in his left arm. He killed one of his opponents with a thrust to his heart. However, Hugh then appeared to the left of the knight, brandishing a bloody blade.
The knight blocked Hugh’s sword strike and the two blades scraped off each other with a clang.
The knight tried to go on the offensive, but he was clearly weakened and the Earl of Leicester’s bastard easily knocked aside his feeble blow, leaving the beleaguered Angevin off balance and open to attack.
Hugh swung his blade round and the flat of the sword struck the knight in the face with a thud. The Angevin dropped his weapon. Hugh drew back his swrod, ready to make the killing blow.
“Stop!” the King cried.
Hugh let his blade drop and starred at the King.
“You will not kill a defenceless man,” ordered the King.
“He is mine! I may do what I wish with him!” retorted Hugh.
The King turned to the knight. He recognized him. It was Brian Fitz Count, Lord of Wallingford and of Abergaveny.
“Do you yield?” the King asked Brian of Wallingford.
Brian slowly nodded his head. “Yes, I yield.”
The King turned back to Hugh. “He is your prisoner. Guard him.”
The rest of the enemy soon yielded as well after that, laying down their weapons.
A knight rode up to the King. “My Liege, the day is yours. We have won a great victory.”
“Aye, so we have,” said Stephen. “Who, pray, are you?”
“I am Henry, castellan of Canterbury. I am the commander of the Queen’s forces.”
“Of course. I thank for your help and advice for the Queen,” Stephen said and dismounted from his stallion. He clambered over the corpse-strewn barrier before he found Robert of Leicester.
“Where is Robert Fitz Roy?” asked the King.
Beaumont turned, his face blank.
“Gloucester escaped, sire.”
Stephen cursed profusely. Yet again Gloucester had evaded him as Stephen was on the threshold of victory!
“Well, at least we have captured Brian of Wallingford.”
“He is a prisoner?” asked Robert.
“Aye, he is.”
“Then for that at least we must be thankful.”
“Indeed. My Lord of Leicester, would you organise the prisoners? We march on London as soon as we may.”
“Naturally, your Highness.”
“I must go to Windsor forthwith.”

The hooves clattered on the cobble stones of the bailey of the castle at Windosr as the King rode in, where he was greeted by Humphrey of Evreux, the castlellan.
“The Queen is in the solar, my liege,” he said after the due greetings had been made.
The King immediately strode down the corridors strewn with fresh rushes until he reached the solar, where a woman sat in a chair by the window, embroidering. Her soft brown hair fell on the green velvet gown, catching the golden sunlight coming through the window.
“Maud!” cried Stephen and rushed over to the chair as the Queen stood.
“Stephen,” she said, dropping the embroidery.
“My darling Maud,” the King said again and kissed her tenderly on the mouth. “Are you hurt? How are the children? Where are the children?”
“I am perfectly well. I obeyed your orders, husband, like a good and gently wife,” Maud said with a wry smile. “The children are well too. They are safely in the Tower and you need not be concerned for their safety. Eustace assured his mother he would defend his siblings to the death as he held his wooden sword.” She laughed. “You need not worry yourself, Stephen.”
He kissed her again. “Come, we must go to London.”

King Stephen rode through the Lud Gate into London at the head of his knights. By his side was his wife Queen Maud and Robert Beaumont, Earl of Leicester. Behind them followed 225 knights and militia and 50 prisoners, including the wounded and closely guarded Brian of Wallingford. The rest of the 750 men who had fought each other that day at Windsor were either the other one hundred prisoners held captive at the castle, the wounded who had been left in the care of a nearby Cluniac monastery and the 200 dead who littered the field.
The people had come out to hail their King, and were cheering at playing joyous music. Stephen had always been popular with the Londoners and they were happy to see their sovereign again.
The party rode into the Tower of London, where the aldermen of the city were waiting in the great hall, wishing to present their congratulations on Stephen’s victory. Also present was Geoffrey de Mandeville, Constable of the Tower who Stephen had favoured after his fall from grace under the reign of Henry I.
For the first time in several weeks, King Stephen was once again at the seat of power. And he felt ready to strike back.

Stephen lay in bed under the warm blankets, feeling fro the first time in a long time a profound sense of comfort. His wife lay with her head on her husband’s bare chest as he ran his hand up and down her soft naked back.
“You should not have done what you did,” said Stephen.
“What?”
“You should not have risked your and the children’s lives, Maud. It would have been safer for you if you had gone to Boulogne and waited for me there.”
“And then what would have done, Stephen? Robert of Gloucester would have captured London and you would have been without support. Do not think your supporters would have supported for much longer a King without a kingdom!” she remarked angrily and turned her back on him.
“Then I would have forsaken the crown and returned to Boulogne.”
“So all that you have done these past two years will have been for naught. Well I could not simply let that happen. Do not forget, husband, that whatever you have will one day pass to our son.”
Before Stephen could say anything in reply, there was a knock on the door. Stephen climbed out of the bed and put on a robe before opening the door.
“Your Highness, the Bishop of Winchester has just arrived. He awaits you in the antechamber,” the maid said as she curtseyed.
“Thank you, and tell my brother I shall join him as soon as I may.”

Dressed and shaved, the King entered the antechamber to the throne room. Henry of Blois kneeled before him and expressed his greetings.
“May God be praised, brother, for you safe deliverance from the hands of traitors and savages.”
“Indeed.”
“I feared for you, Stephen, when I heard rumours that of your death. Thankfully they were not true, but nonetheless I had to ride for Winchester forthwith so that I could prevent the treasury from falling into the hands of rebels and traitors. When I heard that the Queen had taken London, I naturally came as I soon as possible to offer her my succour.”
“And for that I thank you, brother,” said Stephen. “Do you bring any news from Normandy?”
“Aye. Shortly before I left a messenger arrived with a letter from William of Ypres. He said that he and the Count of Meulan had ambushed Geoffrey of Anjou and had wreaked heavy losses on him. He has retreated to Anjou, though he still holds the castles that he captured at the beginning of his campaign.”
“Then I shall wage my own campaign against my enemies forthwith.”

You have a strong power base in the south east of England, including the counties of Kent, Hampshire, Sussex, East Anglia, Hertfordshire and Berkshire as far as Reading. Robert of Leicester also has extensive lands throughout the Midlands, and you also have large fiefdoms in Lancaster and Cornwall. There are also the Welsh Marches, distant and cut off, to be considered, as well as Exeter, which is likely to offer you support. Messengers have been despatched to all the barons and clergymen the length and breadth of the realm to ascertain their loyalty. There also reports of raids trickling from the North, as well as rumours of a planned Scottish invasion.
You must now decide where you must campaign.

1. Make a drive through the West Country. This is one of your enemy’s potential power bases, and you have land and supporters there.
2. Secure the Welsh Marches. You need to consolidate your position in this key area, and you must establish a link between the Marches and the rest of your lands.
3. Wage war in the Midlands. You are unsure of the barons’ loyalty to you in this region, so a decisive campaign there would certainly show them where their loyalties lie.

Phew!

P.S Ludens, you can take that abandoned sign next to this thread in the Library, thank you!

[AntiochusIII]

Victory! Now that's what I'm (hoping that I was) talking about.

And that arrogant Hugh...Stephen would do well to sponsor a force to the Holy Land right after we have Gloucester's head on a spike. A "reward" and to send away such a potential troublemaker. An arrogant, bloodthirsty man who finds it amusing to sarcastically address the King in the midst of battle should not be allowed to move around in England. There might be a romantic (as in, warrior-knight thing, not "love") slant to his character, but that's neither here nor there. Let the Saracens have his head, or he theirs.

Now, the choices are terribly hard, since I have no clue where is where in ye olde England. However...

Number 2 is not our optimal choice. We escaped from the area in a risky trek for precisely the same reason we should not go back in now: it's isolated, far away, cut-off, and is out of the potential areas of heavy struggle. With Gloucester about, a second cut-off would be disastrous.

So it comes down to 1 or 3...

It really depends on how many troops we have. King Henry V, if it isn't too much trouble, would you elaborate on our current resources? And which area of England would most likely support Gloucester now--like, what is his current power base?

[King Henry V]

A very rough representation of the areas of which you know their loyalty. Red is the King's lands, blue Robert of Gloucester and green the Weslh Marches.
You are very well off in terms of money, as Henry I left a rich treasury when he died. Purely guestimating figures here, I'd say you have a treasury of 45,000 marks which equals about 30,000 pounds in sterling silver.
As in terms of numerical strenght, you have two options:
Either summon your barons to perform their feudal obligations, which they will do free of charge for forty days a year. However, you do not know the quality of the soldiers that you will get, and after those 40 days they have the right to bugger off home.
Or, you forget about the feudal levy completely, and instead collect the scutage tax, which all able bodied men have to pay for not doing their military service that year. The money you collect will go towards hiring mercenaries, but you do have to pay them and some do flee at the crucial moments (no matter how much you pay someone, it's not enough for them to die.) However, they can serve much longer in the field.
Or, you do a mixture of the above.

Invented numbers if you raise the feudal levy:
Kent: 150 knights, 50 bowmen
Sussex: 200 knights, 75 bowmen and 100 spearmen
London: 150 bowmen, 150 spearmen
Essex: 100 knights
Suffolk: 125 knights, 30 spearmen
Norfolk: 50 knights (could be more as you do not know yet the loyalty of the Earl of Norfolk, Hugh Bigod)
Surrey: 175 knights, 50 spearmen
Bedford: 120 knights
Hampshire: 200 knights, 150 bowmen and 50 spearmen.

All told: 1120 knights, 425 bowmen and 380 spearmen, or 1925 men in total.

[Kraxis]

Agreed that the Welsh Marches are not a good choice right now.

We have given the Welsh a bloody nose, and supported a prince that is somewhat favourable to us. The region should be too busy with infighting and consolidation to pose a problem in the short term. Besides it is a region that is hard to get at and we would be cut off from the heart of the land.

We shouldn't campaign against people we are unsure of, when we have a region we are almost certain to have rebel strongholds. Maybe if the rebels weren't a force to consider right now, then going through the Midlands might be a good choice as it would whip the uncertain groupings back to the fold.
But reducing rebel areas would go a long towards getting the same uncertainty fixed. Those who are not impressed would likely rebel anyway.

So I say 1!

[King Henry V]

Remember you have to choose which way to raise the army for your next campaign.

[Conqueror]

1. Make a drive through the West Country. This is one of your enemy’s potential power bases, and you have land and supporters there.

Let's not give that snake Robert time to recover from his recent loss, let's strike at his power base and finish him off. I'd go for the feudal troops. We should avoid a prolonged campaign anyway, and even if we fail to get the job done fast enough we can return to fight another day. Hiring mercenaries could deplete our treasury, which should be avoided since we might need the money later.

[Kraxis]

Well, we need to finish of the rebellion, then we need to take care of Scortland and Normandy. So we need troops for a good long while.
That speaks for mercs.

However, since we have a rebellion at hand we need to know the loyalty among the lords that has pleaded fealty to us. Also it isn't all the unlikely that the feudal troops would love to be able to crush the rebels (the lords can see a certain advantage in getting the lands and castles). So we need the feudal troops.

My plan would be to call up the feudal troops in the south, east and southwest. Generally the land around Robert. That should be enough. If we are lucky we will be able to get some of the ties with the lords closer, getting them to support our other operations.

If not, then we still have the northern lands to draw from when we deal with Scotland (and there they would have a vested interest in fighting hard as they would be the ones to suffer otherwise). That would also be the time for mercenaries as we would fight in another country, so some of their pay could come from loot. That might buy some loyalty.

Finally we can use whatever feudal troops we have in Normandy to augment our mercenaries to finally settle that matter. But in any case we should only consider mercenaries a certain down there. Besides there will likely be a lot of sieges and feudal troops aren't too great at that (40 days? Not much for a siege).

[King Henry V]

German siege engineers are also available to hire (prices includes siege engines!).

[King Henry V]

June 1138, The Tower of London

Stephen was playing with his son Eustace in the garden in front of the White Tower when one of his squires appeared.
“Your Highness, there is an ambassador from Robert of Gloucester who has arrived and is waiting in the antechamber to the throne room.”
“What is it that he wants?” demanded the King.
“It seems as though he wishes to discuss the exchange of prisoners, sire.”
Stephen ruffled his son’s hair and handed him his toy sword. “I’m afraid you will have to play with your nurse for now, Eustace.”

The doors to the throne room were flung open and the three men strode across the flagstone of the chamber. King Stephen sat in his golden throne, crowned and resplendent. Henry of Blois stood at the right of the throne dais.
“My Lord of Blois, my Lord Bishop,” bowed the envoy.
“His Highness is your anointed sovereign, and you will address him as such,” remarked the King’s brother dryly.
The envoy ignored the Bishop. “My Lord, I am Gilbert of Fécamp and I have been dispatched by the Earl of Gloucester,” he said.
“What is it that you wish to discuss?”
“The ransom and exchange of prisoners, my Lord.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, we wish to obtain the release of Brian Fitz Count.”
“In exchange for the sum of 800 marks. We also ask for the release of the other soldiers you captured at Windsor, and in return the Earl is ready to free your soldiers that his vassals have captured as well as a further 300 marks.”

You must now decide what to offer in response.
1. Accept the offer. It seems fair enough and it is a sizeable sum.
2. Dismiss the envoy immediately. This petty banter and meagre offerings are worthless.
3. Brian is Lord of Wallingford and Abergavenny. It seems only natural that these castles should be handed over to you.
4. Anything else you may think of.

[Flavius Clemens]

If there's still time to reply on the previous question, I opt for 1 - we should finish off one problem at a time, and gaining a secure hold of all of southern England across to the Marches is safer than being spread out. Use a mix of the Hampshire levy and mercenaries.

On the latest offer, on past form we have no reason to trust Robert to deliver on any deals, trickery is more likely. So although 3 is a tempting start to the West Country campaign, I go for 2 as the realistic option.

[Kraxis]

How many troops does he hold? And what is their quality?

In case they are good and fairly numerous, I would say we could bargain for them.
For instance we could demand the troops to be release as a sign of good faith, and then the exchange of money and the Count. That should leave Robert to have no real option for deception. We get the troop ahead of the exchange and get the money as we hand over the Count.

If the envoy refuses, so what. It isn't as if we need the money that much, nor the troops. However I find it important that we are perceived to be a good lord who will help his lessers in cases such as this.
But I won't trade back for rabble. So my proposal only stands if the troops are good and somewhat numerous.

Did we lay the proposal on the table?

[Marshal Murat]

I'd say go to Wessex and that general area. If Glouschester grabs the baron's loyalty, then he can fortifiy the area, and fight from town to town back to Cornwall. Hedge him in.

[Csargo]

I'm with Kraxis

[Ludens]

Option 1 for the campaign and Kraxis' proposals for both the recruitment and the negotiation questions.

[King Henry V]

OK, so to tally up the votes so far:
A. Which region to campaign against:
Wessex: 6 votes.

B. What soldiers to recruit:
1.Feudal levy for the southern, eastern and southeastern counties: 4 votes.
2. Mix of Hampshire levy and mercs: 1 vote

For the negotiation:
Miles of Gloucester captured sixty soldiers, mostly knights and men-at-arms, half of which defended Stephen and permitted him to escape. You should note that without the soldiers who defended him, Stephen would be in one of Robert's prisons.

Also note: Wallingford is one of the strongest castles in England, commands a strategic crossing point on the Thames and is Gloucester's most easterly stronghold; his salient. Abergavenny is likewise an important castle on the Usk river, in the heart of the Welsh Marches.

[Flavius Clemens]

For the negotiation:
Miles of Gloucester captured sixty soldiers, mostly knights and men-at-arms, half of which defended Stephen and permitted him to escape. You should note that without the soldiers who defended him, Stephen would be in one of Robert's prisons.

This is enough to swing me on to Kraxis's idea rather than my original vote for option 2.

[AntiochusIII]

Seeing the map, I conclude: 1, Push to the West. The Midlands can wait. Gloucester is on the run and letting him stop and recuperate would only further deepens the wounds of war. We might even ensure the safety of the West Marches by opening the area to the rest of your power base.

As for the prisoner exchange, I suggest 3, Demanding the Castles. However, it is very unlikely that he'll accept, so this choice is made with the intention of reducing the bargain as necessary. Wallingford takes priority over Abergavenny; and if refused both, then go for option 1. Of course, I support Kraxis' way of dealing with the exchange.

If he refuses still, or try to bargain for more, throw him out. Stephen would've shown himself to be both caring enough to negotiate and "concede" for the sake of those in his service, and yet strong enough to refuse a bad bargain.

Of the troops, I support Kraxis' proposal. It's the most effective way to take full advantage of local forces at key theatres.