Julian Rathbone - Kings of Albion

But worst of all was the amount of strong drink, a never-ending supply of ales and wines brought to the table in large ewers by serving-boys, which, of course, soon took their effect. I earlier used the word 'horseplay', which may have puzzled you, but I used it advisedly for it describes accurately a particular sort of foolery almost all now gave themselves up to. When the tables were cleared of most of the feast's debris apart from the goblets and ewers, the younger, lighter men climbed on to the backs of the heavier larger ones who gripped their riders' knees in the crooks of their elbows and carried them in combat against the others, the aim being to 'unhorse' the riders, or bring both riders and mounts crashing to the floor. To this end they used whatever they could find as weapons except real ones. Cushions and pillows were brought into play, ladles and big spoons, even empty and not so empty-jugs and big drinking vessels they call tankards, made out of pewter.

Soon there was blood everywhere, and broken furniture and tableware but no serious injuries that I could see. Once a couple fell or were beaten to the ground they retired to the sides, where they continued to contribute to the noise, if nothing else, by cheering on the survivors. The result was that there was more noise when only two couples were left than there had been at the outset. One pair was made up of Richard Neville with Eddie March on his back, and the other by an old man called William Neville, Lord Fauconberg, riding a younger knight (though still in his forties, I would guess) called John Dynham. Fauconberg, we later learnt, was Warwick's uncle. Until now I had thought the survival of Richard Neville and March was due to Neville's seniority as Earl of Warwick and Captain of Calais and that none durst overturn him, but I was wrong. His uncle, who had a grizzled beard and shoulders as broad as an ox's, managed to get his foot between those of his nephew and with one hard push had him over. Yet it was not just brute force that tumbled him but cunning too, for Fauconberg had seen an upturned chair behind Warwick and that was enough to provide the leverage to trip him.

Warwick did not take kindly to this ruse, though young March laughed it off readily enough. Warwick claimed treachery and trickery on his uncle's part and his face darkened with anger, but he was shouted down by the onlookers who declared Fauconberg and Dynham had won fairly. I had the reeling that many of the young men were glad of an excuse-to belittle their general.

Well, cousin, as I said, the candles burnt low, and most of the men fell by degrees into a drunken stupor though not until they had sung many a maudlin song to the accompaniment of the musicians, mostly about lost loves, or the ladies they worship from afar and long for hopelessly, and one or two about friends slain in battle. Hut even as night wore towards day we were constantly reminded of the barbarity of the people we had come amongst. The stone floor was strewn with rushes and sawdust and this, they seemed to think, gave them licence to urinate and worse against the walls, and the dogs too, of which there were several and all very large, did their business where they wanted. We kept ourselves to ourselves, huddled in a corner near the fire, and dreamt, wrapped in a more complete darkness, of a home we had never perhaps properly appreciated until then.

We were woken quite suddenly, even roughly, shortly after dawn, first by a servant who came and stirred the great lire back into life, adding some kindling and dry logs, then by the general shift and shuffle of men stirring whilst still suffering from the effects of carousing on alcohol. Into all this came the sudden clatter of horses' hoofs on the cobbles outside, challenges and passwords exchanged, and in came three men wearing chain-mail and conical helmets, with broadswords scabbarded at their sides. Their heavy boots rang on the flagstones. They also had plate armour on their arms and legs, but none on their bodies that we could see, though these were concealed by tabards decorated with a white diagonal cross on red, which we later discovered designated them followers of the Neville family.

They strode up the hall and were shortly in animated conversation with the Earl, who had fallen asleep under the high table to which he had returned to nurse his pride and drown his sorrows after the horseplay tournament.

Meanwhile, the grey light from the tall windows slowly spread and filled the great hall, casting its dull light over the mess and ordure left from the night before. I was glad at least to see that some of the boys who had served had reappeared with brushes and brooms to push the filth and debris into piles which they then carried out before strewing the floor with fresh straw and rushes. The to-ing and fro-ing also meant that various doors were left open, including the big ones through which we had entered and the smells and stuffiness were to some extent lifted by gusts of cold, fresh air. These, by the way, presaged a mighty storm of gales and rain that lasted almost a week. Ali hung around on the fringes of activity and was soon able to report back to Anish and me.

'It seems,' he said, 'that a thousand men have gathered in Ingerlond on the outskirts of a small port called Sandwich, barely twenty miles away, across the sea, where they are led by officers of the King. It is expected that they will cross and join the Duke of Somerset at Guisnes as soon as the tides and winds favour them. Our hosts fear that, with this increase in his forces, the stalemate will be broken and Somerset will be able to attack Calais and either capture Warwick and his men or drive them into the sea.'

'If he succeeds our own position will be compromised, ’Amsh interjected, with some anxiety. 'Somerset will not be pleased to find us still here since the passport he gave us was on condition that we made our way from here up the coast to Bremen."

'Ali,' I commanded, 'go and see if you can find out how Neville is planning to cope with this crisis.'

He was back ten minutes later. 'A John Dynham, he who won the contest on the back of Lord Fauconberg, is to lead a small force to Sandwich, where he hopes to do them some delaying mischief such as burn or steal the fleet of ships there. Apparently he knows the town and harbour and believes this knowledge will enable him to do much damage without too much risk, especially as the main body of the thousand men is camped on the outskirts of the town.'

'If that's the best they can think of,' Anish remarked, 'I don't hold out much hope for their success.' And he went on to say that he thought we should try to get out of Calais before we were caught up in a siege or a battle.

I reminded him that our aim was to get to Ingerlond and find my brother, and our only chance of doing that depended on remaining where we were.

Well, once the storm had blown itself out, this Dynham embarked with three hundred soldiers Neville could hardly spare. He returned a few days later, but before I tell you what the outcome of his expedition was. I must fill in three more matters of some importance that we learnt or happened to us in the interim.

First I asked Ali to find out what he could to add to the knowledge he already had concerning this feud or civil war that seemed to be occupying the lives of all the Ingerlonders. Here is what he told us after a day or two spent questioning the acquaintances he made amongst both the knights and the young men who served the nobles.

It all goes back,' he said, 'eighty years and more. At that time Ingerlond was ruled by a great warrior king called Edward, who conquered much of Francia and won many great battles against the Franks. He had several sons, the eldest of whom was known as the Black Prince because of the colour of the armour he wore and who was as great a warrior as his father. However, this Black Prince died before his father, and when Edward himself died it was the Black Prince's son. Richard, who came to the throne, following the laws that govern such matters in Ingerlond.