the Church keep her, do what it will with her, so long as she’s kept away from my door.’
I do not know why I had continued to pursue my questions with Sir Osbert – some bizarre feeling of guilt maybe, because I had shunned Tilda when she came to me in need. In a confused way, I may have felt that I should at least try to find her somewhere to lodge, and this cousin of her father’s had seemed an appropriate person to ask. But it was quite clear that even her family would have nothing to do with her. From my own experience of the woman, I concluded that they were wise. I vowed to put Tilda from my mind. Her troubles were not mine, her future not my concern, and like Sir Osbert, I should endeavour to keep her away from my family at all costs.
Over thenext few days, d’Aubigny set me to work. He gave me command of a
conroi
of knights – unhorsed, of course, as there is little call for a cavalry charge inside a castle’s walls – thirty-two good men, many of them younger, stronger and fitter than I, and most of much more illustrious parentage, but under my authority nonetheless. Sir Thomas and Miles were my lieutenants – although I was slightly worried about the reliability of Miles, who according to his father was growing increasingly bored by confinement within our battered walls – and I was given the whole of the southern half of the outer bailey to defend, some two hundred yards of wall in the shape of a wide V, with its square south tower at the point of the V, the main gatehouse at the eastern end and the muddy beach at the River Medway at the western. It was a goodly stretch of the defences to watch with only a handful of knights, but most of them had servants, pages, squires and common men-at-arms in their retinue so, in fact, including a handful of my Westbury men, I had near a hundred under my command.
I gave half to Sir Thomas and posted them to the western wall, and my half looked after the eastern stretch between the main gatehouse and the south tower. I emptied the tower of men by day – a controversial order that had d’Aubigny knitting his eyebrows when I reported to him in the great hall at the end of my long, exhausting first stint on duty. He was seated at the table with one of his clerks examining a parchment roll that listed the remaining stores. He saw my approach, dismissed the clerk and nodded at me pleasantly.
I told him of my plan and he frowned and said: ‘Why?’
‘The outer bailey’s south tower is the target of the full force of the enemy artillery,’ I said. ‘It is not so difficult to divine that they mean to make a breach there and attack it with overwhelming force. And there is nothing we can do to stop the trebuchet battering, except perhaps to sally out and try to kill the engineers and burnthe siege machines. But I am told you’ve forbidden any of our men to make sorties.’
‘No attacks outside the walls,’ said d’Aubigny. ‘I’m not wasting men’s lives in daredevil adventures that will likely achieve almost nothing. Even if you drove off the guards and burned the machines, the King has the resources and men to build more in a few days.’
‘I understand that,’ I said. ‘Neither do I wish to waste men’s lives. But only this morning one man was killed inside the south tower and another two were injured on the walls by flying splinters of stone. Three casualties in a couple of hours. I need those men for when the tower falls and a breach is opened.’
D’Aubigny said: ‘You plan to sit idly by while they knock a hole in my walls?’
‘Not idly. The trebuchet barrage ceases at dusk, when my men and I will go into the tower and with the help of the castle’s carpenters and masons we will do whatever we can to shore up the damage and strengthen the walls. But that tower will fall. The only uncertainty is when. By day, my men, on either side of the tower, clear of the flying shards, will wait and watch for a breach. When that happens we will plug the
I do not know why I had continued to pursue my questions with Sir Osbert – some bizarre feeling of guilt maybe, because I had shunned Tilda when she came to me in need. In a confused way, I may have felt that I should at least try to find her somewhere to lodge, and this cousin of her father’s had seemed an appropriate person to ask. But it was quite clear that even her family would have nothing to do with her. From my own experience of the woman, I concluded that they were wise. I vowed to put Tilda from my mind. Her troubles were not mine, her future not my concern, and like Sir Osbert, I should endeavour to keep her away from my family at all costs.
Over thenext few days, d’Aubigny set me to work. He gave me command of a
conroi
of knights – unhorsed, of course, as there is little call for a cavalry charge inside a castle’s walls – thirty-two good men, many of them younger, stronger and fitter than I, and most of much more illustrious parentage, but under my authority nonetheless. Sir Thomas and Miles were my lieutenants – although I was slightly worried about the reliability of Miles, who according to his father was growing increasingly bored by confinement within our battered walls – and I was given the whole of the southern half of the outer bailey to defend, some two hundred yards of wall in the shape of a wide V, with its square south tower at the point of the V, the main gatehouse at the eastern end and the muddy beach at the River Medway at the western. It was a goodly stretch of the defences to watch with only a handful of knights, but most of them had servants, pages, squires and common men-at-arms in their retinue so, in fact, including a handful of my Westbury men, I had near a hundred under my command.
I gave half to Sir Thomas and posted them to the western wall, and my half looked after the eastern stretch between the main gatehouse and the south tower. I emptied the tower of men by day – a controversial order that had d’Aubigny knitting his eyebrows when I reported to him in the great hall at the end of my long, exhausting first stint on duty. He was seated at the table with one of his clerks examining a parchment roll that listed the remaining stores. He saw my approach, dismissed the clerk and nodded at me pleasantly.
I told him of my plan and he frowned and said: ‘Why?’
‘The outer bailey’s south tower is the target of the full force of the enemy artillery,’ I said. ‘It is not so difficult to divine that they mean to make a breach there and attack it with overwhelming force. And there is nothing we can do to stop the trebuchet battering, except perhaps to sally out and try to kill the engineers and burnthe siege machines. But I am told you’ve forbidden any of our men to make sorties.’
‘No attacks outside the walls,’ said d’Aubigny. ‘I’m not wasting men’s lives in daredevil adventures that will likely achieve almost nothing. Even if you drove off the guards and burned the machines, the King has the resources and men to build more in a few days.’
‘I understand that,’ I said. ‘Neither do I wish to waste men’s lives. But only this morning one man was killed inside the south tower and another two were injured on the walls by flying splinters of stone. Three casualties in a couple of hours. I need those men for when the tower falls and a breach is opened.’
D’Aubigny said: ‘You plan to sit idly by while they knock a hole in my walls?’
‘Not idly. The trebuchet barrage ceases at dusk, when my men and I will go into the tower and with the help of the castle’s carpenters and masons we will do whatever we can to shore up the damage and strengthen the walls. But that tower will fall. The only uncertainty is when. By day, my men, on either side of the tower, clear of the flying shards, will wait and watch for a breach. When that happens we will plug the
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