Two Kingdoms 17: Tower

[DoctorM]

TWO KINGDOMS 17: TOWER

Author's Note: This is the thirteenth part of an AU construction about a very different post-1120 Gwynedd where the coronation challenge at Kelson's coronation went rather differently--- very differently. There are characters and background here that go back to some stories in very, very early issues of Deryni Archives and to my own much younger days. This segment falls after "Crystal"  but before "Arrows and Glass". As always, input and comments are very much appreciated.

Cold on a mid-autumn morning, and the dawn sky over the Rhengarth plain is white as an egg. Christian shades his eyes to look east up slope at the castle.

It's not much— a single round tower, hastily built, surrounded by an earthwork.  Not badly sited. He's seen bigger windmills in Bremagne and Autun, but it's there, and there's the Corwyn gryphon banner flying from the top.

There are horses milling along the road at the base of the earthwork and the Marluk men are starting to move up towards the gate. 

His own people are there with him, Falcon Horse troopers and a clutch of Gordon riders as well. Black and gold scarves for his own people, the Gordons mostly with blue and green chequered shawls worn over one shoulder.

"Are we going up with them?" That's his cousin Michael Gordon, leading his horse over.

Christian looks back. "Just watch. We're just here to watch."

Michael Gordon points east and north. along the earthwork. "I can take a dozen of my horse around to the east side. In case they try to break out."

Christian shakes his head. "Just watch. Let the Marlukers do it. This is theirs. Give them a chance to loot."

There are horns sounding up on the tower and arrows starting to drop down onto the Marluk troops. Shields go up and he can hear war-cries from the men on the slope. There's a knot of men-at-arms at the gate with heavy forester's axes, hacking away at the  wood.

"They've got braziers set up down by the road," Michael Gordon says. "They'll be shooting fire arrows up soon enough."

"Everybody likes fire arrows," Christian says. "But they're damned useless things."

His cousin grins. "Pretty to watch, though."  He points. "I think they're over."

Out on the slope, men are scrambling up onto one another's backs and shoulders and pulling themselves onto the top of the wall. They unbar the gate from inside and the panting axemen pour through. More men-at-arms are moving up the hill, stopping to unlimber the shields on their backs. Infantry are coming up with them, their bows strung. One of the men climbing over the wall slides back down onto the hillside with an arrow  high in his chest.

Men are shouting from the tower: Corwyn, St. Michael! Corwyn, St. Michael! and God defend the just! Christian can hear the accents. He frowns. Michael Gordon is doing the same. "Orsal," his cousin says. "Those are Orsal men."

"Mercenaries," Christian says. "The Orsals and Corwyn are hand in glove.  Money wasted, though. Well, Alaric Morgan won't have to pay this lot come next month."

The sky is brightening and Christian can see the dark flights of arrows coming down from the top of the tower.  He looks over at his escort, at the Falcon Horse and Gordon men waiting by their horses. Half are sitting in the grass with water bottles or wine flasks. Bored— he can tell. This isn't light cavalry work.

"My lord Kheldour." That's the Marluk commander, striding back to where Christian is waiting. The man is tall and sinewy, certainly closer to sixty than fifty, with brush-cut hair and beard gone steel grey.  Battered old armour— chain mail and leather, a lifetime of this kind of work in it. "They're past the wall. This won't take long."

Christian looks over. He points up to the Corwyn banner at top of the tower. "That thing," he says. "That thing needs to be gone before the morning's done."

The Marluk commander nods. "Should be done well before then. We'll be through the tower gate soon enough." He looks back at the Falcon Horse and the Gordon men waiting by the road west towards Carcashale. "This one won't last long. Last place we cleared out, that was a fortified farmhouse. They made a hard fight of it. Corwyn men, and they had two ditches dug. This place is new. They're trying to put these things up all over Rhengarth Plain. You can run one of these up in a couple of weeks, you know what you're doing."

Christian watches the attack develop. He's looking at the figures moving around on the top of the tower. "A couple of weeks if you have peasants to do the digging. I want to know who's doing the work. Take a look at the local villages. Find out where the labor comes from. Pressed men are one thing, volunteers are another. Let's discourage anyone looking for a job."

There's shooting from the window slits on the tower, arrows dropping down on the Marluk troops at the earthwork. Arrows arc back uphill in reply. Some of them are fire arrows, and Christian makes a face at that: useless damn' things. Most of the fire arrows gutter out in mid-flight. A handful of others hit the tower and splinter. There's no sign of anything smoldering in the thick wood. He can see a man's body hanging half out of a window slit. Hands pull him back in.  A handful of Marluk bodies are scattered on the scarp. Down by the earthwork there are more Marluk men forming up. It's still early in the morning.

The Marluk commander waves an arm. He points at someone over by the infantry archers. "No more goddamned burning arrows! That's a waste! Get them torches! They can light them when they get up the bloody hill!" Somewhere up at the earthen wall orders are being passed. No horns yet, though.

"I knew your father," the Marluk commander says. He's still watching his men on the wall. "He was a good friend to the old duke. Always tried to talk sense to him. Good horse soldier, good man. Solid and steady. Gone too young." He looks over at Christian. "Never thought Lord Derek's son would be a prince, though. Never thought the old duke's daughter would be a queen, either."

Christian shrugs. "New times. Everything's different. New names, new faces, new titles. New borders, too."

The Marluk commander is looking at him sidelong. "Is it the queen who has you off riding the roads seeing what we're doing out here, or is it Marley?"

Christian looks hard at the man. "I'm Queen's Remembrancer. I don't report to Bran Coris. You want to talk to Marley, I think he's in Cardosa these days. The queen wants to know what's happening out here, so I'm doing the tour."

"What's happening is what you see. These little things getting built all over the plain. We come down and sweep through, clear them out. Mostly burn them. We need money to build our own towers. They say all the money is going to the duke of Marley."  The man shakes his head. "Carcashale country is just northwest. We're running back and forth trying to keep Corwyn men from coming up here. These towers aren't much, but if you get enough of them built here, they'll hold everything to Rhengarth river."


Horns are sounding upslope. Christian can hear the war-cries.  There's  a rush of dismounted Marluk men-at-arms to the tower gate. Christian can see them scrambling up the scarp, bent over, sometimes on all fours. Arrows are coming down on them. One man is waving his sword when an arrow takes him in the chest. He rolls back downhill.  Axemen are hacking at the wooden walls of the tower. Long bits of wood are piling up. Smoke starts to come up— Marluk men lighting torches.

Michael Gordon leans across. "It sounds like out in Lorsol. Little towers and forts going up back and forth all over the plain. It looks like a cardounet board."

Christian shrugs. "Works, though. Anybody rides through, they have to stop and take these things down one at a time. Keeps light cavalry off balance. You have a tower, you sortie out and keep the roads closed and tax the locals."

The Marluk commander never takes his eyes off what's happening up at the tower door. "They say Marley is doing that up in east Llyndruth country. Taxing all the locals. Off towards Kulnán, too."

There are fires starting around the tower base. Christian watches another body slump out of one of the window slits. Unseen hands pull at the man,  but the body falls out and away. It bounces off the wall before it hits the ground. The walls around the top of the tower bristle with arrows.

"Marley," Christian says. "Marley may get reminded whose subjects he's taxing.  He wants to go all the way to Sasovna, that's fine. But the queen's not letting him into Kulnán. Our captain-general needs reminding about that. He needs reminding that there's a southeast front, too. You can tell people you heard that from me."

"Queen's Remembrancer— you know what the queen is thinking."

"Queen's Remembrancer, queen's husband. You heard that from me." Christian looks over at the commander. "We'll get you more money. Put up a few towers of our own. Push back at Corwyn."

Shooting is slackening from the top. Marluk archers are running around the tower, loosing off arrows at the window slits. The tower door is splintering, and cries are going up from the men-at-arms gathered round it.

"I want any papers you find," Christian says. "Anything written. Any accounts. And  I want that damned flag. That goes back to the queen. Any banners you take, they go to Valoret."

The top of the tower is almost empty. The few defenders left are waving their arms and shouting down to the Marluk men. Trails of smoke are starting to come up from the fires.

"You want me to give quarter?" The Marluk commander is watching his men readying to smash through the smoldering door. "We can use their horses, anyway."

Christian makes a face. "Save the horses, always. If there's anybody in there worth a ransom, it's yours for the taking. Anyone important, the queen buys them from you. But quarter's your call."

The commander reaches up with his sword to signal. Up there on the scarp, men are shouting Quarter given! Quarter given! No more arrows from the top. The tower door falls open, and bits of half-burnt wood fly up. Coughing garrison men lead  frightened horses out. Marluk men-at-arms rush inside, swords ready.

"Looks like you get the flag early," the commander says.

"One more piece off the cardounet board," Michael Gordon says. He grins over at Christian. "Not that you ever get that many off the board when you and I play."

Christian glares back. "Play backgammon with me soon. Bring all your money. You'll need it."

He can see the Corwyn men starting to come out, their hands empty, Marluk soldiers are herding them downslope in small groups, taking them off to have their hands bound.  More Marluk men appear up on the top and haul down the gryphon banner.  A party of his aides is going inside, too. He can see black and gold scarves vanishing past the door— his intelligencers going to seize any papers before the fires get to the garrison captain's quarters.

Christian waves over a Falcon Horse man to take his horse. He looks over at his cousin and the Marluk commander. "Let's go see what they found before the whole thing catches fire."

He looks east. The sky is at full light now. The birds are just starting to sing in the trees up the main road to the river. Barely morning, and there's one fewer piece that the duke of Corwyn has on the board, at least for now.

[Jerusha]

Well done, though I was waiting for some kind of slight-of-hand from Corwyn to save the day.  I'm not disappointed that didn't happen.  One less tower on the board.

[DoctorM]

Well done, though I was waiting for some kind of slight-of-hand from Corwyn to save the day.  I'm not disappointed that didn't happen.  One less tower on the board.

Medieval warfare is so rarely about dashing charges by knights. So much of it is just this-- lots of little sieges of little places. One tower at a time. Down in the Aquitaine the English and French did that to each other for decades, official war or not.

[Laurna]

A cool Accounting of a skirmish overtaking a tower.  Seeing the small scattered towers across the English countryside always made me think they would be easy to take with enough men. You did have me worry when you said the Corwyn flag was flying. Glad to know it was not the duke's personal pennant. Makes me wonder if Christen is really going to rout Morgan and hold the kingdom. At least in this tale.

[DoctorM]

A cool Accounting of a skirmish overtaking a tower.  Seeing the small scattered towers across the English countryside always made me think they would be easy to take with enough men. You did have me worry when you said the Corwyn flag was flying. Glad to know it was not the duke's personal pennant. Makes me wonder if Christen is really going to rout Morgan and hold the kingdom. At least in this tale.

It's Marley who's the queen's captain-general. Christian is the queen's Remembrancer these days, not a general. So we'll see how the game develops...

[revanne]

Maybe I'm  just a suspiciously minded Engliswoman but I got the distinct impression that Marley is playing his own game. But then IMO whichever side Bran Coris was on he would always serve his own interests  as much as those of his liege - maybe more.


I like Morgan's strategy.

[DoctorM]

Maybe I'm  just a suspiciously minded Engliswoman but I got the distinct impression that Marley is playing his own game. But then IMO whichever side Bran Coris was on he would always serve his own interests  as much as those of his liege - maybe more.


I like Morgan's strategy.

It's the strategy that worked for the French after Poitiers.

And I suspect that if you looked up "sharp elbows" or "deep ambition" in a Gwynedd dictionary, you'd just find a sketch of Bran Coris.

[Laurna]

Revanne, I do believe you are right. Bran Crois is all about himself, and poor Richenda and son have little to do with controlling his ambitions.

[DoctorM]

Revanne, I do believe you are right. Bran Crois is all about himself, and poor Richenda and son have little to do with controlling his ambitions.

Very much agreed.

[Nezz]

Another excellent chapter. Well done.

[DerynifanK]

Interesting look at medieval warfare and strategy.  You take one of these towers and they can quickly build another. It would slow your overall progress I would think. I like the cardounet analogy. It is important to remember that Alaric is an excellent cardounet player. And I agree that whichever side he is on at the moment, one would always need to keep a close eye on Bran Coris whose total loyalty is only to himself.

[DoctorM]

Another excellent chapter. Well done.

Thank you!

[DoctorM]

Interesting look at medieval warfare and strategy.  You take one of theses towers and they can quickly build another. It would slow your overall progress I would think. I like the cardounet analogy. It is important to remember that Alaric is an excellent cardounet player. And I agree that whichever side he is on at the moment, one would always need to keep a close eye on Bran Coris whose total loyalty is only to himself.

Do keep an eye on Bran.