Chapter 13

“I don’t see an interpreter,” I commented, almost as an afterthought.

“They understand it won’t be easy, but Mei learns languages quickly. We’ve been working with her, and she already understands some,” Gemma chimed in.

“This is going to be interesting,” I thought to myself. Waving goodbye, I turned my horse and headed for the barracks.

Four days later, we had met no resistance as the troops who might oppose us had left already, some to defend Paris and others to join the rebels. I left a small squad of troops in each town or manor loyal to the rebels to round up family or clergy who were there, as well as to loot the manor house and church. A messenger veered off to Paris yesterday as we passed north of it. King Philip’s reply arrived this morning with word of the routes the enemy troops seemed to be following and we prepared mentally for the confrontation.

King Philip also asked me to inform him of the location we chose for the confrontation so part of his troops could flank the rebels and attack from the south. He was sending five thousand mounted light cavalry along the south bank of the Marne with orders to turn north towards Villeparisis, a town about halfway between Paris and Meaux. With our troops helping, he chose to keep more troops in Paris to defend the city should it come to that.

I chose a flat plain just east of Villeparisis, one surrounded by dense forest both north and south of the plain to funnel the majority of the attack through the open area.

A messenger I had sent to find Rand’s troops returned this morning with news that five thousand of Rand’s troops would meet our troops this afternoon. That would give us ten thousand troops and forty-five explosive charges against an estimated twenty thousand adversarial troops. I liked the odds, especially since a quarter of their troops were heavy cavalry, including knights and nobles. Only two thousand were crossbowmen, with the remainder made up of foot infantry, mostly poorly armed and poorly armored peasants. I deployed scouts in every direction for half a day’s walk to warn us of any other troops approaching, hoping to flank us, as well as several to observe the approaching enemy columns.

On our first night out, Mei set up the tent and joined me, sleeping fully clothed snuggled against me. She giggled in the morning when she woke up to find my hand cupping her breast, the same way I usually awoke each morning with my wives. The next night she put my hand there when she snuggled against me before we went to sleep but held her hand over mine to let me know that was as far as she wanted to progress that night.

Two nights ago, she had made her decision and was waiting for me when I went to bed. We made love quietly (almost), and then again in the morning. The woman who emerged from the tent in the morning, beaming, was a much different woman than the one who emerged the two previous mornings. Chen and Zhou both saw the difference immediately and beamed themselves. “You make Mei very happy and make us proud,” Zhou said emotionally as he was busy using me for a pincushion. “Even with so much riding you almost healed,” he added.

When we chose the battle site, we purposely allowed the enemy what appeared to be a slightly superior position. I had every officer and several enlisted men with previous battle experience in a pitched battle survey the site we were leaving for them to determine where they would choose to set up their troops. We buried several of the grenades in each of two areas chosen by everyone, ran fuses, and continued preparing our defenses.

The messenger we sent south returned with word that the troops headed by Duke de Melun were stopping just south of a small town on the other side of the Marne. Since they were all mounted, they could be here quickly once the Archbishop’s troops assembled for battle.

With our preparations complete, we settled in, not sure whether our opponents would stop for the night or continue to the battle site for a late afternoon/early evening battle. Each of my officers felt that they would stop for the night about half a morning’s march away and start out first thing tomorrow morning.

They chose to stop once their scouts found us waiting for them. I was hoping they would get overconfident seeing only five thousand of us, as Rand’s troops hadn’t arrived by the time their scouts found us.

The sound of distant thunder woke me up in the middle of the night, followed sometime later by shouted salutations of, “Hunters returning.” I found out in the morning that our Hunters had raided the enemy camp in the middle of the night, picking off their sentries, and raining more than a thousand arrows into the camp, first targeting tents of the nobles. To cover their escape, they freed the enemy horses, and then lobbed one of the explosive devices into the middle of the remaining horses to scatter even the most battle-hardened horses. Each man brought back numerous captured horses.

Scouts and lookouts in the trees would give us plenty of warning of their approach in the morning, and we enjoyed a peaceful breakfast. Evidently, several of their men had tried to repay us by sneaking into our camp later only to end up on the wrong end of arrows from our well-hidden lookouts, many up high in the trees.

Scouts reported that most of the nobles had been injured, and many, including the Archbishop, had died in the raid. Even so, their army was forming up and preparing for battle. Our scouts estimated that they would arrive mid-morning. Only about half of their mounted troops had regained their mounts, and our scouts had brought in almost two hundred more horses during the night and morning to go with more than six hundred the Hunters brought back last night. They also picked off at least a hundred of the French troops out trying to round up their horses.

Word was sent to de Melun to be ready and that we would give them as much warning as possible. The message also warned them not to get too close until they heard three short and one long horn blasts as we had a deadly surprise waiting for the Archbishop’s troops. We also informed him that the Archbishop and many of the other nobles were already dead or seriously injured and we captured or drove off many of their horses during the night, hampering the effectiveness of their heavy cavalry.

Mei “persuaded” me to put on the armor they had modified for me; Margaret had obviously taught her well. Mid-morning, Mei and I sat astride our horses surrounded by ten thousand troops waiting for the rebel troops. They approached slowly, wary of another surprise attack. I sent a messenger to let de Melun know of their approach.

While their troops got into formation, two men rode slowly to the middle of the clearing under a flag of truce. I rode out to meet them to see what they could possibly want. They wondered at my youth, asking who was really in charge of the troops. “If the Archbishop were still alive or if your King were here, they could confirm that I am, indeed, the Ghost of Lancaster. If you doubt me, you are free to test me and my troops,” I taunted.

“If you and your troops leave now, we’ll let you live to fight another day. We have you outnumbered two-to-one, and you don’t even have heavy cavalry,” one of the men laughed. I could tell this discussion was going nowhere.

“But you haven’t taken into account the ten thousand troops coming up behind you shortly and the five thousand who will be coming up on each flank,” I shot back. Their gaze followed my arm, looking to the south where I was pointing. They didn’t realize it was my signal to light the fuses.

“Our scouts have reported no sign of any other troops,” one of them said confidently.

“Did they report the presence of our troops before they raided your camp in the middle of the night?” I shot back.

That comment hit a nerve. “It’s your funeral,” one of them said sourly. I signaled my troops again as I turned and rode back towards them. I felt the twin impacts in my back at the same time I heard the crossbow strings release. Lying flat against my horse I spurred him on, taking stock of myself, surprised when I felt no punctures or even severe bruising from the arrows. I did see my archers preparing to release their second flight of arrows. I had just sat up straight again in the saddle, satisfied that I was out of range of their archers, and that the two men who had shot me died at the hands of the front row of my archers, when the explosions went off.

The horn signal to de Melun’s troops sounded as I neared our lines. Mei quickly checked me, pulling the bolts out of the armor she had insisted I wear. Grinning, she showed me the two bolts, both with no blood on them. “It work good,” she said proudly, giving me a wifely I-told-you-so look.

When I turned back to the battlefield, it was a bloody mess, their blood and mess. Taking full advantage of our superior range and faster rate of fire, our archers annihilated the French archers and slaughtered the greatly reduced charging cavalry. The bodies of the two nobles who shot at me and their horses lay almost where they had been when they released their crossbow bolts.

None of their other troops even made it that far before falling or turning tail and retreating, right into the charging line of de Melun’s cavalry.

Later, after we had secured the demoralized remnants of the Archbishop’s troops, I met de Melun near where the two nobles still lay. “I think I prefer meeting you on the battlefield like this,” he laughed. “I have never seen anything like what I witnessed today, lightning strikes in the middle of their troops and a devastating hailstorm of arrows. I think the only one hit by their arrows was you and you seem fine,” he commented, checking out my unusual armor.

“My new fiancée’s family altered one of their suits of armor to fit me. I guess it works,” I said looking over at Mei, still beaming and proudly carrying my banner.

“And how is my daughter?” he asked, smiling proudly.

“She is a very happy wife, and helped choose the next addition to my harem,” I answered, motioning towards Mei. De Melun bowed elegantly to Mei, especially considering he was astride his horse. Mei blushed, and then returned his bow.

“What do we do with them?” de Melun asked, motioning to the captured troops.

“Send the peasants home with a warning about what will happen if they try this again. Ransom the professional troops. Keep the traitorous nobles and send them to King Philip to deal with. If he prefers, send them to Rouen and I will see to their fate,” I suggested.

I addressed a depressingly small gathering. Of the twenty thousand rebel troops, less than two-thirds would return home, mostly the peasant foot soldiers. Only slightly more than half of those would return home unscathed. “This is what happens when you let your clergy intervene in matters of state,” De Melun interpreted loudly for me while motioning to their dead comrades.

“This is also what happens when you face the Ghost of Lancaster. Go home. Go home and tell everyone to mind their own business and stop worrying about what anyone else is doing. Tell them to learn to live in peace and be satisfied with what they already have before they lose everything. If they don’t learn the lesson, I will gladly come back and teach it to them again. Think about how many widows were created today and how close your wives came to being widows. When you get home, tell the widows they are welcome in Rouen. We will make sure they and their children have enough food, shelter, and clothing to survive this winter. We will provide them with husbands, work, and a place to live. The churches where you live won’t be able to help them for a long time,” I warned before sending them home, unarmed except for their farm implements, and on foot.

Leaving our captains in charge, de Melun and I headed for Paris to report to King Philip. We each sent a messenger as soon as the battle was over, and I sent a second messenger to report to Rouen and then to London. I had already sent a copy of the list from the bible to London, to see if King Edward wanted to know about the fate of any of the opposing nobles or their families. I intended to ask King Philip the same question.

My arrival in Paris this time differed vastly from last. Thousands of Parisians lined the streets from the city gate to the bridge across the Seine. Mei gawked at the cheering crowd as she rode by my side, banner flying as proudly as she was proud to carry it. King Philip came out to meet us, obviously relieved and excited at the outcome.

“What’s this I heard about you calling a lightning strike down on their troops when there were no clouds in the sky?” he asked animatedly.

“It’s a new weapon we just learned about,” I told him as I pulled one of the grenades from my saddlebag. King Philip took a step back when I held it out towards him.

Mei stayed with the horses and the explosives while we went inside to discuss what to do next. King Philip was livid with the church but wasn’t sure how far he could penalize them without upsetting the Catholic Church all across Europe. I offered to take care of the problem for him by demolishing the churches of all ten bishops who sent troops as we made our way back to Normandy. All I asked was that he make sure the stone got to Rouen. He was free to grouse and threaten me publicly about what we did if necessary to keep the Catholic Church off his back.

“Remind them that I don’t start wars, but I am more than willing to bring them to a quick and bloody end,” I offered.

There were two families King Philip wanted returned to him, but he left the disposition of the remaining nobles’ families to me, as well as that of any clergy involved. I told him I would return any nobles and clergy we took prisoner who hadn’t been at the battle. I didn’t think very many of the traitorous nobles or clergy survived last night or the battle today. De Melun agreed with me.

Thanking King Philip for his offer to stay for dinner, I begged off. I needed to get back to the battlefield to wrap things up. De Melun agreed, also wanting to get back to his troops.

We did accept his offer to send lunch with us. Mei was practically beside herself when King Philip kissed her hand and thanked her for keeping me healthy. She barely understood what he said, but she knew he was the King of France.

It was late evening when we got back to the site of the battle. As per the instructions we had left with our captains, they divided the spoils. As a reward for their raid last night, the Hunters got the first three hundred picks of the horses, swords, and armor. De Melun’s men got their third of the horses, weapons, and armor, with the remainder split between my troops and me.

While de Melun watched in amazement, Zhou again used me for a pincushion, simply having me lie in the grass on a blanket while Mei happily set about setting up our tent for the night. The mood in camp was festive and everyone was eager to begin the trip home tomorrow. I sent a messenger to find Rand, to let him know which churches to destroy, and to leave the stone once he had. I also let him know that half of the horses, armor, and weapons his troops captured were theirs.

Between pillaging and destroying three churches and helping almost two thousand new widows who joined us along our route to pack their belongings, it took two weeks to make it back to Rouen. I sent word ahead and Rouen sent horses and empty wagons to help us.

Once we arrived in Rouen, Mei and I were practically dragged into the bedroom for the first half of the afternoon before I was allowed to meet with everyone waiting to see me. The women split their attention between welcoming Mei to the family and welcoming me home. When we finished, I noticed that workers had been busy in the bedroom. They had filled the windows with glass and installed a wooden partition just inside the door to block the view into the room when we opened the door.

Instead of breaking for dinner, I snacked on cheese and bread while I listened to the parade of people that began with Bayard. The first message I sent to Lancaster called for both Lancashire and Yorkshire to each send me five of the fishing boats we took from Castile and Aragon. I knew we’d need the extra fish to help provide food for the thousands of new citizens until next year’s crops were harvested. The first boats had arrived and provided much-appreciated meat for the new citizens of Rouen and the vicinity. They smoked the extra each day.

Filling in the crenellations on the wall was complete. Grain silos continued going up and were being filled from the wagons loaded with grain still being harvested and delivered from the captured territory before it was returned to King Philip.

Orchardists took hundreds of clay pots and hastily built wooden tubs to the captured area. They dug up any fruit trees planted this past spring, intending to plant them here. They also dug up slightly older trees, wrapping the root balls with any available inexpensive cloth they found, and transporting them nestled in damp straw in wagons. Others readied the hills far outside of town where our first battle with the church’s troops took place, for transplanting the trees when they arrived.

The population was excited about the new plows, which we were now turning out at a rate of ten per day. Farmers were amazed at how quickly and how deeply they turned the soil, although they weren’t yet sold on the idea of planting their crops in rows.

The first new winnowing machine was finished, used day and night by a group of women as they hurried to winnow not only the grains harvested here, but what had been confiscated from the area being returned to King Philip. A second machine was near completion. The second one took longer than the first as the women using the original made several suggestions for improvements, and the blacksmith had to figure out a way to incorporate the latest ideas into the second model.

The powder maker was nearly done with his first batch of powder that was derived from thousands of pounds of bat guano and hundreds of donated piles of manure that had already sat for a year or more. Word was spreading about our unusual search for manure and especially year-old manure. Unaware of just what he did with it, the locals now referred to Ru as “Ru the manure man.” He expected to have a batch of nearly a hundred pounds of powder ready within a week. He would store it in firkins, barrels that held about nine gallons.

Aubert was pleased with the way things were progressing. He’d worried at first with so many new people arriving, but the harvested grain and crops Rand sent, the increased supply of fish, and the livestock accompanying the influx of new people had eased his concern.

Three weeks later, a messenger interrupted us with news that Count Guy of Flanders was arriving. An excitedly squealing Renee bolted for the door. “Uncle Guuuuuuyyyyyy!” she shrieked, scattering the surprised guards as they rushed to open the door and get out of her way at the same time.

The rest of us followed, albeit at a more leisurely pace. The guards were still grinning about the flash that had just flown past them. Count Guy, however, did not appear so easily amused. In fact, he looked nervously at me, obviously concerned about my reaction to his niece’s decided lack of decorum in her eagerness to see him again. My knowing grin at her antics brought a smile back to his face and he bowed to me when Renee bounced excitedly over to me after finally letting him go.