Read Online The Archer's Gold: Medieval Military fiction: A Novel about Wars, Knights, Pirates, and Crusaders in The Years of the Feudal Middle Ages of William Marshall ... (The Company of English Archers Book 7) by Martin Archer - Free Book Online
Authors: Martin Archer
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handful of men.
Our problem with Okehampton's size is very different - we have too many men for it to accommodate. But until we know more about the situation we don't want to leave any of our men outside the protection of its walls where they might be vulnerable to a counterattack.
After we thoroughly inspect the castle we make a number of decisions.
First, and perhaps most importantly, we decide that all the men can squeeze into the stables, smithy and other outbuildings and tents erected along the inside of the curtain wall. It will be tight but they'll all fit in if my lieutenants and I and the boys sleep in the great hall and all of the horses are tethered and fed in the middle of the bailey.
We thought about billeting some of the Marines in the dozen or so hovels in the nearby little village where the castle's servants and serfs live - but decide against it, at least initially until we learn more about the situation and are reasonably sure we won't be counterattacked.
A brief look at the castle and one thing is for sure - we'll have to do immediately is set up a bigger kitchen. The castle's present kitchen is barely large enough to cook for the lord and his immediate family. And then, of course, there is Thomas' inevitable question as to where everyone will piss and shite.
"Where does everyone piss and shite?"
"Anywhere?" Thomas repeats back incredulously when one of the castle servants answers him with a waving gesture around the bailey. As you might expect, Thomas immediately bustles off with the boys in tow to get piss holes and shite holes dug and rail at the sergeants for not having already done so.
It's obviously going to be another learning moment for the boys and from the loudness of Thomas' voice and the way my priestly brother is waving his hands about he's making much of it. Thomas has been big on pissing and shitting and what we drink ever since he was in the monastery and read an old parchment about how the Romans soldiered.
I learned long ago that it's best to go along with Thomas in such matters. Keeps him sweet, doesn't it?
Chapter Eight
Supper that evening is both a delight and full of surprises, very big surprises indeed. The name of the lady in the castle is Isabel and the older lady is her dear friend and the one and only maid she's ever had.
Lady Isabel has somehow heard about my son and Thomas's other students being with us. She insists that they join us at the long table in the great hall along with my lieutenants.
Isabel and her maid are newly arrived here themselves but yesterday they had seen, Isabel tells us, a nice stag hanging by its antlers in the food dungeon. If we agree, she will order it to be brought up and cooked along with bread in the French style of loaves instead of flatbread.
We men have much to talk about and the long table in the great hall is crowded and noisy because of the playful and overly excited boys. They've been in a real war and are full of themselves.
Not a man among us made anything of the fact that several of the boys had obviously pissed themselves; many of us would have done it ourselves if we hadn't known to piss before the fighting starts. They need to be learned that.
All in all it is a very nice meal, certainly nicer than I expected, probably because Thomas had the lady send to the village for the castle's cook and servants. They and the other villagers had been cowering in their hovels ever since Randolph and his men galloped up to block the castle entrance.
The evening lasts so long that the two candles lighting the hall burn down and begin to gutter. Our dinner had a difficult start but was most enjoyable after Thomas straightened out the
Our problem with Okehampton's size is very different - we have too many men for it to accommodate. But until we know more about the situation we don't want to leave any of our men outside the protection of its walls where they might be vulnerable to a counterattack.
After we thoroughly inspect the castle we make a number of decisions.
First, and perhaps most importantly, we decide that all the men can squeeze into the stables, smithy and other outbuildings and tents erected along the inside of the curtain wall. It will be tight but they'll all fit in if my lieutenants and I and the boys sleep in the great hall and all of the horses are tethered and fed in the middle of the bailey.
We thought about billeting some of the Marines in the dozen or so hovels in the nearby little village where the castle's servants and serfs live - but decide against it, at least initially until we learn more about the situation and are reasonably sure we won't be counterattacked.
A brief look at the castle and one thing is for sure - we'll have to do immediately is set up a bigger kitchen. The castle's present kitchen is barely large enough to cook for the lord and his immediate family. And then, of course, there is Thomas' inevitable question as to where everyone will piss and shite.
"Where does everyone piss and shite?"
"Anywhere?" Thomas repeats back incredulously when one of the castle servants answers him with a waving gesture around the bailey. As you might expect, Thomas immediately bustles off with the boys in tow to get piss holes and shite holes dug and rail at the sergeants for not having already done so.
It's obviously going to be another learning moment for the boys and from the loudness of Thomas' voice and the way my priestly brother is waving his hands about he's making much of it. Thomas has been big on pissing and shitting and what we drink ever since he was in the monastery and read an old parchment about how the Romans soldiered.
I learned long ago that it's best to go along with Thomas in such matters. Keeps him sweet, doesn't it?
Chapter Eight
Supper that evening is both a delight and full of surprises, very big surprises indeed. The name of the lady in the castle is Isabel and the older lady is her dear friend and the one and only maid she's ever had.
Lady Isabel has somehow heard about my son and Thomas's other students being with us. She insists that they join us at the long table in the great hall along with my lieutenants.
Isabel and her maid are newly arrived here themselves but yesterday they had seen, Isabel tells us, a nice stag hanging by its antlers in the food dungeon. If we agree, she will order it to be brought up and cooked along with bread in the French style of loaves instead of flatbread.
We men have much to talk about and the long table in the great hall is crowded and noisy because of the playful and overly excited boys. They've been in a real war and are full of themselves.
Not a man among us made anything of the fact that several of the boys had obviously pissed themselves; many of us would have done it ourselves if we hadn't known to piss before the fighting starts. They need to be learned that.
All in all it is a very nice meal, certainly nicer than I expected, probably because Thomas had the lady send to the village for the castle's cook and servants. They and the other villagers had been cowering in their hovels ever since Randolph and his men galloped up to block the castle entrance.
The evening lasts so long that the two candles lighting the hall burn down and begin to gutter. Our dinner had a difficult start but was most enjoyable after Thomas straightened out the
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