Stewart Binns - Crusade

Our force was much more colourful than the Normans’. Philip had attracted knights from many parts of France, Flanders, Anjou, Brittany and beyond. In the bright sun of a clear winter’s morning, their standards were a rich medley of colours, their shields an array of fanciful designs. It was a stirring sight, and exhilarating to ride in the midst of it.

William’s archers were much less effective than Philip’s and by the time the two vanguards of cavalry met, our force outnumbered the Normans three to one. We scythed through the Matilda Conroi with ease, scattering men across the battlefield. Many were caught by the French infantry, pulled from their mounts and cut to pieces.

For my part, my only encounter with bloodshed was brief but fortuitous. Edwin and I and several of Robert’s knights were in pursuit of a group of William’s cavalry when they suddenly turned to make a stand. My pace took me into the midst of them, slightly ahead of the others, and for a few moments I was heavily outnumbered. Blows were aimed at me from left and right and my sword and shield had to parry several assaults. Thankfully, Edwin and the others soon joined the fray, easing the pressure. However, just at the moment when I began to think the worst was over, a Norman lance whistled past my ear and struck one of Robert’s knights behind me full in the face.

Vinbald, a young man from Évreux much admired by his peers, was killed instantly. Hurled with venom from only a few feet away, the lance was meant for me, but a slight movement of my head had been sufficient to remove me from its deadly trajectory. Even so, I felt it cut through the air next to my cheek before it smashed into Vinbald’s skull, entering through his eye socket. The impact was such that, when the missile exploded from the back of his head, it took his helmet with it. It was one of the worst things I ever saw on a battlefield.

The horror of Vinbald’s demise filled us with rage and we waded into William’s cavalry in a frenzy. For the first time in battle, the dread of injury or death left me and I went about the business of war like a savage beast.

William, a small group of his knights and his personal conroi tried to form a phalanx to force a way through our onslaught, but they were too few to make an impact.

His elite horsemen had never been punished like this before. As he surveyed the field, all he could see was his army in disarray. Finally, he issued the order to retreat.

Robert heard the horn sound the withdrawal and saw his father pull his war horse round. His blood was up and he meant to rub yet more salt into his father’s already painful wounds. He signalled to us with his sword and we were off in pursuit.

When William saw that it was his own son giving chase, he turned to face him, but few of his knights and only a handful of his conroi were able to halt their stampede and turn with him. He was soon engulfed by our cavalry and fighting for his life. Robert managed to grab the reins of his father’s horse and called on his men to sheathe their swords.

It was only then that I saw that two of the knights in the midst of it and at the forefront of the duel with William were Sweyn and Adela, still with their blades drawn.

‘Your Lord has ordered you to sheathe your weapons!’

Edwin could not have been firmer. They both – reluctantly – did as they were bidden.

William had been wounded. A spear or sword had cut through the mail on his right arm, which was soaked in blood, and the gauntlet on his left hand had been split open, revealing a deep gash. His check was gouged from below his eye to his jaw by the slash of a blade. He seemed confused and hardly able to speak.

Robert spoke to the few remaining knights who had stayed with his father.

‘Take him back to Rouen. When he is coherent, tell him to go back to England and leave Normandy to me. He will not be welcome on this side of the Sleeve until he installs me as Duke of this realm.’

William started to mutter something, but, wisely, his men drew him away at a canter. I watched as he was led away, noticing him swaying unsteadily in his saddle. I felt sorry for him – the once all-conquering warlord – now humbled in battle by his own son.

There were wild celebrations that night in the allied camp. Philip and Robert addressed their army to great cheers and raucous applause.

When the revelries were in full swing, Edwin and I took Sweyn and Adela to one side. I let Edwin give the reprimand.

‘You were given a clear order.’

Adela answered first.

‘Yes, we were.’

‘You disobeyed that order.’

Sweyn was next.

‘No, we did not. Our orders were to stay close to you and not to fight unless our lives were in danger. We did stay close to you and we were in mortal danger. The King came within a yard of us, swinging the baculus wildly. I was only defending myself.’

I took over the interrogation.

‘Does that mean that you actually engaged the King?’

‘Yes, my Lord. I was the one who slashed his face; his helmet saved his life. If I had been closer, I would have killed him.’

‘And I was the one who smashed his gauntlet. I too would have killed him if I had been given the chance. We both have a debt to collect.’

Edwin looked at me, astonished and exasperated, but without an immediate answer to their bravado. I could not decide whether to embrace them for their daring or admonish them for their defiance. I thought the latter the wiser option – at least, for the time being.

‘This conversation must remain with the four of us. If anyone discovers that you were responsible, at least in part, for the King’s wounds – and bear in mind, we don’t know what the consequences of them will be – you will be in mortal danger. Lauded as avenging warriors by some, derided as committing regicide by others; either way, you will be marked for life. Apart from that, I find it hard to believe that you just happened to stumble into the King’s path. Everything you have said leads me to believe that you sought him out and thus flagrantly ignored Edwin’s direct order. Sweyn, you are rusticated for a period of three months. You must return to your home in the Lot and think about the value of discipline and the importance of obedience. If you are to become a knight, you must embrace these values.

‘Adela, you are to go with him and you may accompany him on his return. You too should think of these things. If you want to fight in the company of knights, you must learn to act like one.’

Sweyn was furious, his eyes burning with rage.

‘Sire, this is not just, we did nothing wrong.’

‘Your further disobedience serves only to discredit you. I have spoken, now go! We will talk again when you return. I do not want to see you again until Easter has passed.’

With that, they relented and strode away. Even though Sweyn had his back to me, I could almost feel his rage.

‘I hope I have done the right thing. I have to admire them both; although the circumstances were fortuitous, they came closer to killing the King than anyone ever has. It almost defies belief.’

Edwin was shaking his head in bewilderment.

‘My Lord, I can’t quite believe it. They continue to astonish me; he’s a slip of a boy, she’s no more than a hundredweight wet through, but they have a strength about them like fine-tempered blades. I suppose they were forged in the same furnace – in the horror that was Bourne.’

‘I am impressed. They remind me so much of Hereward.’

‘You are right to send them away; they will come back stronger for it. I’m sorry Adela suddenly imposed herself on you, but I did warn you she was obstinate.’

‘Don’t apologize, Edwin. She is remarkable; her inner resolve is so striking. Not a word of this. They are too young to be lionized or to be the quarry for those seeking revenge for a stricken king. Let’s hope his wounds are not severe.’