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 B
Authors: Martin Archer
Tags: Historical fiction
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robes dry and the drawbridge is raised behind us. We’re leaving Martin hard at work preparing the castle for a long siege that might start at any time. Preparing for a siege is something we’ve discussed many times and he knows what to do – even so I repeat it so George can hear and then tell Martin that I’m leaving George from Birmingham to be his second.
Martin is as steady as they come but he’s not the brightest candle, you know.
Martin and George will bring in the local men and livestock and send the rest to a couple of more distant villages. It’s a plan Thomas and I worked out long ago. Among other things Martin and his men are to do is to make sure there are no skiffs or small boats on the Tamar that might be used to carry Cornell and his men across without getting wet. And, of course, the ferry below the ford will also have to be cut lose and floated down to Portsmouth.
We’re going all out to make it difficult for Cornell to get into Cornwall. With a little luck maybe some of Cornell’s men will drown or get sick and die.
And also, of course, starting immediately no one except Peter and his men are to enter the castle for any reason no matter what tale they might tell; anyone else who asks to enter is to be treated as a possible enemy and sent on to Restormel.
“Throw them loaves of bread and send them to Restormel or into the village if anyone shows up and wants in, but don’t let anyone else in the castle no matter who they are. And be sure to tell the priest and the villagers to open their doors and be friendly when Cornell’s men arrive.”
No sense in the villagers suffering if Cornell wins.
@@@@@
One of the archers and I ride all night and our arrival at Restormel on exhausted horses creates quite a stir the next day. We’re wet and chilled to the bone as we once again strip off our clothes in front of the fire. This time it’s Helen and Angelo Priestly and the boys who rush to bring us dry robes and warm food.
Messengers are soon heading off in every direction to sound the alarm and bring in the livestock to be slaughtered during the siege and other last minute supplies. I’m dead tired but I barely pause before I climb on a fresh horse and ride down by myself to visit our ships and the men at the ship building camp on the river.
When I get to the shipbuilders’ camp I’m surprised to see that preparations for an attack are underway as if Cornell and his men will be arriving any minute. Men are running everywhere and the tents are being struck. I ride through a throng of men clutching their weapons and hurriedly loading the galleys and cogs with the camp’s food supplies and their tools and bedding.
“How long before they are here?” Apostos, the head shipwright inquires anxiously in his thick Cypriot accent - and then looks at me in stunned surprise when I tell him it will be at least a couple of days.
Apostos throws down the tools he is carrying to the dock in disgust, puts his hands on his hips, and glares at me in disbelief with his head cocked as if I am somehow responsible for everyone’s fears and anxiety. All around us men have stopped whatever they are doing and are intently watching us. They instinctively know from the way Apostos is standing that things aren’t quite as desperate as they’d imagined.
“All we know is what the rider who galloped through here yelled at us. Scared us half to death he did.”
I lean down from my horse and give his shoulder a friendly shake.
“It’s just as well, my dear Cypriot friend,” I tell him with a smile and a laugh as I dismount.
“Cornell and his men really are coming and soon - so it’s quite the right thing to break camp and take the ships down to the harbor.”
Then I
Martin is as steady as they come but he’s not the brightest candle, you know.
Martin and George will bring in the local men and livestock and send the rest to a couple of more distant villages. It’s a plan Thomas and I worked out long ago. Among other things Martin and his men are to do is to make sure there are no skiffs or small boats on the Tamar that might be used to carry Cornell and his men across without getting wet. And, of course, the ferry below the ford will also have to be cut lose and floated down to Portsmouth.
We’re going all out to make it difficult for Cornell to get into Cornwall. With a little luck maybe some of Cornell’s men will drown or get sick and die.
And also, of course, starting immediately no one except Peter and his men are to enter the castle for any reason no matter what tale they might tell; anyone else who asks to enter is to be treated as a possible enemy and sent on to Restormel.
“Throw them loaves of bread and send them to Restormel or into the village if anyone shows up and wants in, but don’t let anyone else in the castle no matter who they are. And be sure to tell the priest and the villagers to open their doors and be friendly when Cornell’s men arrive.”
No sense in the villagers suffering if Cornell wins.
@@@@@
One of the archers and I ride all night and our arrival at Restormel on exhausted horses creates quite a stir the next day. We’re wet and chilled to the bone as we once again strip off our clothes in front of the fire. This time it’s Helen and Angelo Priestly and the boys who rush to bring us dry robes and warm food.
Messengers are soon heading off in every direction to sound the alarm and bring in the livestock to be slaughtered during the siege and other last minute supplies. I’m dead tired but I barely pause before I climb on a fresh horse and ride down by myself to visit our ships and the men at the ship building camp on the river.
When I get to the shipbuilders’ camp I’m surprised to see that preparations for an attack are underway as if Cornell and his men will be arriving any minute. Men are running everywhere and the tents are being struck. I ride through a throng of men clutching their weapons and hurriedly loading the galleys and cogs with the camp’s food supplies and their tools and bedding.
“How long before they are here?” Apostos, the head shipwright inquires anxiously in his thick Cypriot accent - and then looks at me in stunned surprise when I tell him it will be at least a couple of days.
Apostos throws down the tools he is carrying to the dock in disgust, puts his hands on his hips, and glares at me in disbelief with his head cocked as if I am somehow responsible for everyone’s fears and anxiety. All around us men have stopped whatever they are doing and are intently watching us. They instinctively know from the way Apostos is standing that things aren’t quite as desperate as they’d imagined.
“All we know is what the rider who galloped through here yelled at us. Scared us half to death he did.”
I lean down from my horse and give his shoulder a friendly shake.
“It’s just as well, my dear Cypriot friend,” I tell him with a smile and a laugh as I dismount.
“Cornell and his men really are coming and soon - so it’s quite the right thing to break camp and take the ships down to the harbor.”
Then I
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