Re: Alternate history: the Anarchy of King Stephen.
Sorry for the delay, but I'm on half term hols at the moment.
Enjoy.
You ponder for a few moments before giving your answer. “You may inform his highness,” you tell Hywel ap Madyn, “that he has my recognition as the rightful Prince of Powys and will have my support along with the twenty-five wagons of grain and promises to refrain my army from plundering his subjects. However, I cannot spare three hundred soldiers and nor will I do so at the present time. Once my army is on safe territory I will despatch to you two hundred men-at-arms at the earliest possible opportunity and not before. Furthermore, the Prince Owain will pay homage to me and recognise me as his suzerain. He will also accompany the army on its journey home as testimony to your good will and to stop your rasher countrymen from molesting my forces.”
“This is preposterous!” Hywel protests. “My King will never accept such an affront to his dignity in being reduced to a hostage!”
“At the moment your “king” is nothing but a lord of sheep, grass and rocks by your own admission. You will tell your princeling my terms.”
Hywel jabbers away in Welsh at the prince for a few moments. After your terms are translated, Owain gives you a sneer and spits on the ground before saying his answer, no doubt heavily laden with profanities.
“My Lord King refuses to accompany you as hostage,” Hywel says flatly.
“Then you may inform your lord that if does not come willingly, then I shall make him come. My guards are amongst the most feared knights in Christendom. It is they who slaughtered an army twice their size yesterday and your puny horsemen that accompany you will prove no match. If you try to escape, be warned that I have some of the finest crossbowmen who can hit a hare’s heart at two hundred paces and who will find your prince an easy target.
“You may also tell Prince Owain that if he does not ride with me then he will receive no succour whatsoever on my part and so may either run away to fester in some foreign land as a prince without a princedom, or fling himself on the ground in front of Owain of Gwynedd and beg for mercy. It is your choice.”
Hywel is indignant but nonetheless translates for his lord. Owain reluctantly nods his head in approval of the terms with a sullen expression.
You give them a genial smile and bow. “Then it seems we have an agreement.”
The rest of the day is spent burying the English and Powysian dead in a great communal pit, overseen by an English and Welsh priest. The nobles who were killed are given their own graves, as well as Madog, the late ruler of Powys. As the day progresses, the pile of corpses in the pit grows as the grievously wounded lose their fight for survival and die. By the next morning, most of the casualties’ fate has been decided.
It is on that day that you hold a council of the barons and formally receive the Prince Owain in the ceremony of vassalage. You are seated on a plain wooden stool over which has been draped a swathe of scarlet silk. Owain, flanked by his retainers, advances up to you. He kneels down, raises you foot and bends forward to kiss it, recognising you as his suzerain and overlord, to whom he owes all his lands and riches. His act of homage done, you bid him to rise and give him the kiss of peace, accepting him as your vassal.
A Bible is then brought forward, upon which he rests his hand and swears an oath of loyalty to you. You formally recognise him in front of the barons as the rightful Prince of Powys, in the presence of a couple of local priests. Two parchments are brought forward, each a copy of the terms of fealty and alliance, including the support you will give Owain against his enemies. You both set your seals to each sheet. England and Powys are now allies.
The last pieces of business are dealt with that day. Several squires who fought valiantly in the battle are knighted, including the commander of the garrison left behind whose sortie was so decisive in the outcome of that battle. The commander, Humphrey of Rouen, will be given a fiefdom with a fine castle in the earldom of Worcester. Little does he know that he may have to fight hard to keep his newly acquired gains.
Two days after the great battle, the remaining wounded are loaded onto the empty food carts and your army limps home, accompanied by Prince Owain and his retainers, minus a horseman to order his countrymen living on the Usk not to molest or oppose your army. Dinas Bran is abandoned and you leave the festering corpses behind to the swarms crows and ravens that gather to feast on the carrion.
Within a few days the valley becomes a narrow tunnel with the Black Mountains to North East and the Brecon Beacons to the South West. It is a place perfect for ambush but no enemies harass your passing army. The local peasants grudgingly share their food, though there is little of it and mostly consists of unripe fruit since the peasants jealously guard their precious livestock.
The Prince is given his own tent and you provide him with a half a dozen servants, including a cook, as befits his royal status. He wears a sword, roams freely around the camp and is invited to dine with you and your nobles each night. However, despite this apparent freedom, a couple of soldiers shadow him as discreetly as possible, should Owain be foolish enough to attempt to escape, although the guards have strict orders not to harm the Prince in such an instance, only to restrain him. Likewise, during the day four men are given the fleetest horses that you have and powerful crossbows to shoot the Powysian Prince’s horse from under him if he decides to suddenly gallop away.
As the day light slips away for the third time since you left Dinas Bran, you reach the point where the valley broadens; the Anglo-Welsh border. That night, as you camp in the river’s crook, you give your permission for Owain to leave. His baggage is hastily packed away and within an hour he bids you a curt fare well and rides off with his followers into the night, back to Wales.
The following dawn you cross over into England. Even after passing the battle-scarred region along the border, the land seems strangely quiet. Several wooden castles are garrisoned with troops, yet none leave the safety of their walls to inspect your passing army. The local population, at the sight of armed men, quickly scurry away into their hovels.
By mid afternoon you reach the town of Usk. It is an old settlement, and many fragments of its Roman past still remain, though it is dominated by the great castle that looms to the northwest, standing guard over the town on a steep hill. It is a strong castle, boasting stout timber walls, a deep ditch flooded and a great stone keep.
Messengers who were sent ahead to reconnoitre the land in the morning had confirmed that Gilbert of Clare’s castellan still held the castle and that you would be given shelter.
As you ride under the gate’s archway by Gilbert’s side, the castellan, a balding man whose remaining hair is streaked with grey and whose nose juts out from his face like the prow of a ship, runs out of the keep and bows down to his lord and to you.
“May God be praised! You are safe!” he cries. “We had heard the most terrible tidings.”
“What did you hear?” you ask him.
“I heard tales that you were dead, that you had perished with your entire army, cut to pieces by hordes of Welsh savages. The kingdom is now in turmoil, several barons have raided their neighbours’ lands and bands of brigands have closed off many of the roads to all those who have a care for their lives
You curse. “What of Robert of Gloucester? Do you have any tidings of him?”
“It was Robert who returned from Wales with the news that you were dead, my Lord. He remained only a few hours before riding with two hundred knights to London where it is said he will acclaim the Countess of Anjou as Queen.”
“Have you news of my family? Where is the queen?” you ask him urgently.
“The last tidings I heard said that the Queen was in Kent, at her castle of Leeds.”
This news brings you some relief that your family will probably be safe. Your wife, Maud, is a shrewd woman and will not be gulled by Robert’s promises of safety. Hopefully, she has already made for the coast where she may catch ship for her native Boulogne.
“And of mine?” Gilbert asks his castellan with a look of concern.
“Your wife and children are safe, lord, and reside at Chepstow. They are much grieved by these foul rumours and will for certes be overjoyed to see you.”
The survivors of the army settle down and rest, whilst a lunch of bread and cheese is handed out to your hungry army. You ravenously devour a platter of roast beef with your barons in the great hall before further quizzing the castellan of the situation in the Marches.
“What have you heard of Monmouth?”
“Monmouth has been garrisoned by a small band of knights and men-at-arms, barely a hundred men, all followers of the Earl of Gloucester. Many towns along the Severn have declared for Robert when they heard news of your death, lord. It is the nature of people to change with the strongest blowing wind.”
You give a sullen grunt. “Is Worcester still loyal?”
“Sire, in truth I know only what I heard when I was in Hereford on matters of business for my Lord Gilbert. It was there that the messengers of Robert first arrived and I decided to return to Usk forthwith lest the wave of chaos overwhelm it.”
“Hereford? Then you must have news of my brother, Henry. Was he not overseeing the supplying of my army there?”
“My Lord Bishop was indeed in Hereford but he abandoned the place within a few hours of the first messenger arriving. It seems that he did not wish to linger around for the arrival of Robert of Gloucester and rode off for Winchester.”
You chuckle sardonically. “That I can well believe. My brother has always been very cunning in matters of state.”
Perhaps he should have been the king and you the clergyman, you mutter to yourself.
As the evening winds on, the nobles gather for a council.
Robert of Leicester advocates that you lead the entire army through the Midlands, where he holds large fiefdoms where he may call more men to the army. He is certain that Worcester still holds out, and from there you may travel to London. By that time, he reassures you, news that you are alive will have reached the city and Robert of Gloucester will be repulsed.
Several of the barons disagree strongly, as they do not wish to stray to far from their lands. “Sire, the southern Welsh Marches are not yet secure and Gloucester’s supporters still hold many castles, notably Monmouth.” one of them says. “I say that we consolidate our position before venturing further afield.”
Gilbert of Clare lends his advice. “My liege, my castle of Chepstow stands guard over the Usk estuary, whose deep bed makes it a superb natural harbour. At any one time there are several ships there. If I am not mistaken, the castle of Dunster and Bampton are declared for Robert. If we were to embark say three to four hundred soldiers on to ships, we could sail across the Bristol Channel and land on the northern coast of the shire of Devon. We could then swoop down on the two castles and storm them. Their castellans will never expect such a bold move and we could easily take two very important castles with little loss of life. However, it is true that troops are needed to consolidate our position in the Marches. Therefore I propose that after taking these castles, the soldiers should be embarked on their ships again and return to the Marches, leaving a garrison behind. Meanwhile, your majesty should travel anonymously, so as to attract the least attention to yourself, to London. Unencumbered by an army, your progress will be quick and you will be able to raise an army in the eastern shires of the realm.”
You must decide on what action is to be taken:
1.Listen to Robert Beaumont's advice and lead the army across enemy territory and into the lands where he is sure that you will gain support. Such a large force will no doubt attract the attention of the enemy, but the Earl of Leicester is confident that the army will be able to defeat anything thrown against it.
2.Heed the counsel of the Marcher lords and consolidate your position in the souther Marches, as it will prove a good base. In taking Monmouth, you can start to build a chain of strongholds that will cut the rebel lands in two and ensure a line of communication between the southern Marches and the rest of the realm.
3.Follow Gilbert of Clare's plan and sail across the Bristol Channel to attack the rebel castles in northern Devon, and from there ride across southern England to London, alone but for a few knights. It is a daring and risky plan, but it could pay great dividends if it succeeded.
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Re: Alternate history: the Anarchy of King Stephen.
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