The Archer's War: Exciting good read - adventure fiction about fighting and combat during medieval times in feudal England with archers, longbows, knights, ... (The Company of English Archers Book 4) by Martin Archer Page A
Authors: Martin Archer
Tags: Historical fiction
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and he’s the son of a vicar from some village called Samfield. He’s accompanying the knight holding the local manor to help one of Richard’s lords regain control of Cornwall. They are on the move early so the lord’s men can get back their lands in time for the spring planting - and the main body of the lord’s troops is less than two hours away and on the march.
The name of the lord the knight and his men are helping is Cornell and the Earl of Devon and some of his knights are riding with him.
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Samuel seems like a nice lad so I give him a soldier’s mercy to stop his suffering - I smash him in the head with a hand ax one of my men took off the dead knight. Then my men quickly strip him and the other dead men of everything we can carry and mount up to head back to the Tamar. It’s wet and windy and too late to find a place to fight in Devon; if we fight it will be in Cornwall. It’s time to ride to Launceston and Restormel to sound the alarm.
Rank has its privileges so there is no surprise at all when I take the horse of one of the men, I think he’s one of Brindisi’s Italian archers we recruited in Palma, and leave him to ride double behind George from Haverstock.
Peter and I work out our strategy as we ride for the river: We’ll all ride together to the river and on to Launceston for a brief stop to dry off and get something to eat. Then George and I will ride on to Restormel to sound the alarm and Peter and the others will get fresh horses at Launceston and return to the Tamar to act as picquets and watch the ford.
It’s a fine plan and it works until we reach the Tamar.
It doesn’t take long for our little band to reach the banks of the icy river about five miles upstream from the ford. We crossed earlier at the ford and got wet. Now know going to get even wetter and colder swimming our horses across to Cornwall - but we have no choice if we are to reach the warmth and shelter of Launceston Castle without using the ford which may be being watched. And we know it’s going to be brutal because there are gusty winds and sheets of rain coming out of the west.
“Well lads, there’s nothing for it except to get even wetter and gallop on to Launceston as fast as possible to get warm. Let’s go.”
And with that we spur our horses into the water and start across. That’s when we discover that horses which aren’t particular strong have trouble swimming when they are carrying two riders.
We are almost to the middle of the stream before the river bottom gives out and the horses have to swim. That’s when George’s horse starts to panic and goes under. I’m so busy trying to stay on my horse that I don’t even see what happens, but I can certainly hear it.
There is a great deal of thrashing about and both George and the Italian go under with the horse. Fortunately George has the good sense to slide back over the horse’s rump and grab hold of its tail; our poor Italian never comes up for air, not even once.
I would not have been able to do what George did or even known enough to try. But the ice cold water certainly did wake me up.
Less than an hour later we clatter over the drawbridge into Launceston, throw the reins of our horses to a couple of stable boys who come running out to greet us, and hurry into the great hall to stand with our teeth chattering in front of the roaring fire in its fireplace. The lads will feed them and rub them down while we warm ourselves.
Martin soon rushes in from wherever he’s been and I begin to spread the word as we all rush to strip off our wet and freezing robes and Martin and the castle folk rush to bring us dry ones.
Two hours later five of us ride out of Launceston wrapped in sleeping skins in a doomed effort to keep our
The name of the lord the knight and his men are helping is Cornell and the Earl of Devon and some of his knights are riding with him.
@@@@@
Samuel seems like a nice lad so I give him a soldier’s mercy to stop his suffering - I smash him in the head with a hand ax one of my men took off the dead knight. Then my men quickly strip him and the other dead men of everything we can carry and mount up to head back to the Tamar. It’s wet and windy and too late to find a place to fight in Devon; if we fight it will be in Cornwall. It’s time to ride to Launceston and Restormel to sound the alarm.
Rank has its privileges so there is no surprise at all when I take the horse of one of the men, I think he’s one of Brindisi’s Italian archers we recruited in Palma, and leave him to ride double behind George from Haverstock.
Peter and I work out our strategy as we ride for the river: We’ll all ride together to the river and on to Launceston for a brief stop to dry off and get something to eat. Then George and I will ride on to Restormel to sound the alarm and Peter and the others will get fresh horses at Launceston and return to the Tamar to act as picquets and watch the ford.
It’s a fine plan and it works until we reach the Tamar.
It doesn’t take long for our little band to reach the banks of the icy river about five miles upstream from the ford. We crossed earlier at the ford and got wet. Now know going to get even wetter and colder swimming our horses across to Cornwall - but we have no choice if we are to reach the warmth and shelter of Launceston Castle without using the ford which may be being watched. And we know it’s going to be brutal because there are gusty winds and sheets of rain coming out of the west.
“Well lads, there’s nothing for it except to get even wetter and gallop on to Launceston as fast as possible to get warm. Let’s go.”
And with that we spur our horses into the water and start across. That’s when we discover that horses which aren’t particular strong have trouble swimming when they are carrying two riders.
We are almost to the middle of the stream before the river bottom gives out and the horses have to swim. That’s when George’s horse starts to panic and goes under. I’m so busy trying to stay on my horse that I don’t even see what happens, but I can certainly hear it.
There is a great deal of thrashing about and both George and the Italian go under with the horse. Fortunately George has the good sense to slide back over the horse’s rump and grab hold of its tail; our poor Italian never comes up for air, not even once.
I would not have been able to do what George did or even known enough to try. But the ice cold water certainly did wake me up.
Less than an hour later we clatter over the drawbridge into Launceston, throw the reins of our horses to a couple of stable boys who come running out to greet us, and hurry into the great hall to stand with our teeth chattering in front of the roaring fire in its fireplace. The lads will feed them and rub them down while we warm ourselves.
Martin soon rushes in from wherever he’s been and I begin to spread the word as we all rush to strip off our wet and freezing robes and Martin and the castle folk rush to bring us dry ones.
Two hours later five of us ride out of Launceston wrapped in sleeping skins in a doomed effort to keep our
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