The Gauntlet

Note: To avoid confusion, I changed the name of one historical character from Sir Jean de Vienne to Sir Luc de Vienne. This part has been the most difficult to write. It covers a long period in two significant locales. I had debated on cutting this short, but I felt it was a critical part of the story that you need to understand for the rest to make sense. As I wrote it, I found that with each rock I would move, more would pile up. I hope I was able to provide enough details, without boring you.

This story also deals with accusations and claims of rape. If that offends you, please stop reading.

KB

*****

Château de Carrouges, France

March 1385

"But, Jean, surely there must be some other way Scotland is so far away. You will be gone for months! I can't stand to be away from you that long!" Marguerite pleaded with her husband after hearing of his plans to join the expedition to Scotland.

"Nonsense," Jean replied. "Sir Luc de Vienne is the greatest commander in the King's Army. I've served with him before. He is a military genius. We will be there and back, with chests filled with treasure, before you even notice I am gone."

"What if you don't come back? Then what?" She asked in desperation.

"I always come back, Marguerite," he argued. "I'm hard to kill. It will take more than a few English to defeat me."

"It isn't only the English that could kill you," she declared. "There are storms on the sea, diseases, and do you believe we can trust Scottish savages?"

"It will be alright, Marguerite," Jean said, trying to calm her nerves. "I've faced much worse before."

"I'm frightened, Jean," she said, as the tears began to flow freely. "I don't want to lose you. I cannot be alone."

He took his wife into his arms and kissed her. "You won't be alone. You will stay with my mother at Campomesnil until I return."

"Campomesnil? That's even worse!" Marguerite cried out. "Lady Nicole despises me! She blames me for not giving you a son. We've been married for almost five years and still no heir. She hates me."

"Don't be silly, Marguerite," Jean said. "Mother adores you. Look, take Penny with you as your personal attendant. Keep her with you at all times. I don't want you here without family."

"Then why can't I stay with father?" she asked, "He has room for me at his castle."

"I've told you, you are my wife and my responsibility. Now, this is the end of the discussion. I am going to Scotland, and you will stay with my mother at Campomesnil. I will hear no more on the subject."

Marguerite knew her husband well enough not to push him on the subject. "But do we have to leave tomorrow?"

"Yes, Sir Luc needs me at Lille within a week. I must go at once," Jean said, holding his wife close to his chest. "I promise; I will return to you. Then, we will get busy making that heir."

"Can we try again now?" Marguerite asked with a grin, "One more time before you leave me."

****

Court of Count Pierre

Argentan, France

March 1385

Jean de Carrouges knelt in front of the dais within the formal hall at the court of Argentan. His liege Pierre, the Count of both Perche and Argentan, looked him over disapprovingly. To his right sat Jacques le Gris.

"So, you wish to be released from your oath to me so that you can go on this fool's quest to Scotland seeking riches at the bequest of my cousin, the King?'

"Yes, that is correct, my Lord Count. I cannot join them without your leave."

"Jean, you know very well, you could have gone without my consent," Count Pierre said. "This is a charter from the King himself. If you wish to go, I will not impede you."

"Yes, that is true, but I would be breaking my oath, and in my absence, you could seize more of my property. I do not wish to be an oathbreaker, so I am asking you to release me as your vassal formally." He stared as his lord with a mixture of hatred and disgust.

The Count shrugged and shot Jacque le Gris a knowing look.

"Very well," Count Pierre declared. "I hereby release you from your oath to me. You are free to give your allegiance to another. Let us hope to God that you serve him with less difficulty than you have served me."

"May I get that in writing?" Jean asked.

Count Pierre bristled, insulted by Jean's request, but gave the order for a scribe to prepare the document for his seal and deliver it to Jean before he left.

Jean prepared to leave, but Jacques le Gris spoke up, stopping him.

"What will your lovely wife be doing while you are away?" he asked. "Why not let her come here and stay in Argentan as a member of court? I"m sure she would be very popular."

"My wife will be staying in Campomesnil with my mother, the Lady Nicole. As you know, my mother is getting older, and she could use the companionship of Marguerite. I'm afraid my wife will be too busy to attend to the duties of a courtier."

Jean retrieved the sealed document the following morning before he began the long journey to the port city of Lille. Once there, he met with Sir Luc de Vienne and offered his sword. Having fought together previously, the knight readily accepted Jean's offer, taking him as his personal squire. This event proved to be a turning point in Jeans' life.

****

Near Carlisle, England

August 1385

Jean de Carrouges sat at his morning campfire, sipping slowly on a flagon of watered wine, contemplating the disaster this Scottish expedition had become. When he had left France in early Spring, he had command of nine good squires, all well-trained heavy horsemen, and two score foot soldiers and archers. Six of the squires and over half the men-at-arms lay buried in English graves, along with Jean's aspirations of wealth.

"Riches!" Robert de Thibouville, Marguerite's youngest brother and Jean's newest squire, said as he picked at the bones of a roasted capon. "King Charles promised us riches! Where are they? I have seen nothing but mud, blood, and death on this campaign."

"Aye, and only homely women to boot," added Pierre Talbot, another of Jean's squires. "The English women are all fat cows with ugly faces and crooked teeth."

"Which is a far cry better than the Scottish women," replied Henri de Ferrieres, Jean's second in command. "I'd sooner kiss my horse. What I wouldn't give for a good French whore right now?"

King Charles, the boy king, whose uncles were the real powers behind the French throne, had filled Jean and his men with the dream of plunder and wealth. Jean was enthusiastic when the King's messenger delivered the personal request of the King for Jean to join the legendary Sir Luc de Vienne to attack the English at home, instead of on French soil. The Scottish King Robert II promised the French could keep any loot they took in England, even promising captured lands to the French nobles for their support.

King Charles was anxious to end the English threat once and for all. By attacking them on their lands, instead of in France, they could pay back much of the hardship the English had brought on the French people, with their invasion of Normandy and Brittany years earlier. Jean felt joining the expedition and plundering English villages was his best chance to earn enough money to make him a wealthy man. He had lost lands, titles, and money to Count Pierre and his rivals at the Court of Argentan. With this campaign, Jean could earn enough money to more than compensate for those losses.

The Scottish King has been ineffective and unpopular ruler most of his long reign. He was the grandson of Robert the Bruce, but on his mother's side. His father, Sir Walter, had been knighted at Bannockburn and served the Bruce as High Steward of Scotland. He was one of Robert's most trusted advisors and went on to marry the King's daughter Marjorie. When King David II, the Bruce's last son, died without a male heir, the crown passed to Robert.

By the time of Jean's arrival in Edinburgh, King Robert was nearly seventy and had ruled for almost twenty years. He was a weak man and a puppet to the English. When the French camped on his doorstep with thousands of men, eager to invade England, King Robert was not ready. In fact, he may have regretted his invitation to the French.

The French were forced to sit outside the walls of Edinburgh Castle, while slowly the Scottish gathered their army and prepared for war. Finally, in July, they marched south, into Northumberland. They raided village after village, taking booty and burning the towns to ashes. All was going well, and Jean was filling chests with treasure to take home to Marguerite. The French filled their wagon train with the spoils from English villages and castles.

Unfortunately, due to Scottish reticence, the expedition had been poorly planned and even more poorly executed. However, the worst mistake was to underestimate the English. As the combined army of Scots and French marched south, King Richard II, called the Heart of the Lion, rode north at the head of a column to meet them.

The French invaders fought ferociously against the English. The Scots, on the other hand, favored hit and run tactics, and had little interest in a long, protracted campaign, far from home. When Richard appeared determined to drive them out of England, the Scots fled north, abandoning their French allies. Badly outnumbered and out supplied, the French were forced to flee north as well.

King Richard was reluctant to pursue the French back into Scotland. By the time the French made their escape back to Edinburgh, the English killed or captured more than half the French forces. Fortune, it seems, had betrayed Jean and his men. An even greater betrayal was about to befall them.

Upon their arrival, the Scottish King, fearing further reprisals from the English, barred the gates and refused to allow the French army into the city. To add insult to injury, he refused even to give them food. The French army was starving and became increasingly desperate.

Knowing they would get nothing from the Scots, and realizing that King Richard had returned to England, the French turned their focus on Northumberland again. This time, however, they decided to avoid KIng Richard's troops, by attacking the west and the prosperous city of Carlisle. Along the way, they sacked every minor castle, plundered every village, and burned all the fields after taking what food they could gather. Finally, on the tenth of August, they reached the walls of Carlisle. When the occupants refused to surrender, the French laid siege.

For ten days, they attacked the castle, but it's walls still held secure. The French were not prepared for a lengthy siege. Every day, their supplies dwindled, and the likelihood of an English counter-attack grew. Sickness ran rampant through the camp, affecting noble and commoner alike. One of Jean's squires died of dysentery. It was bad enough to lose a friend in battle, but to have him shit himself to death in his bed was much harder for the men to take. They grew impatient.

Jean was sick as well, but he hid it from his men. It started as a chill, then became a cough. He desperately wanted to leave England and return to his home and the warm bed he shared with Marguerite, but he was facing financial ruin. The cost for him to bring his men to England had been massive, requiring that he secure loans. He needed the plunder that Carlisle promised. Sir Luc had decided that once Carlisle fell, they would gather as much as they could carry, then make their way to the coast to return to France.

Jean glanced up at what remained of his squires as they joked with one another. They were good and brave men, but less than half of the men that had left France several months before.

"If you had a French whore, you wouldn't have her for long," Jean piped in. "I'm afraid half the army would fight you for her. The poor girl's legs would never recover."

The other men laughed and continued trying to enjoy the little food that they had. "Are you not eating, Jean?" Robert asked his commander.

"No, you finish the bird, my stomach is not in favor of this fine English food," he replied. His men were concerned for his health, worried that perhaps he too had dysentery. He must have read the looks on their faces, "Don't worry, I'm fine," he said. "It will take more than the shits to finish me."

Just then, a horn sounded in the distance. Others immediately began to blare in response.

"What is it?" asked Pierre, rising to his feet.

"The English!" shouted Henri. "To arms! To arms!"

The men sprang to their feet, kicking out the campfire and scrambling to arm themselves. Fortunately, Jean kept a disciplined camp, and his men had been in their armor, with weapons near at hand.

"Is it King Richard?" asked Robert as he untied their horses.

"It must be! Quickly! Leave everything! We'll come back for it!" Jean shouted as he climbed to the saddle. He reached down, grabbing a war lance from the rack and spurred his horse, heading for the commander's tent. "Form up and wait for my return!"

Jean rode hard through the tumult as men rapidly broke camp and armed themselves. Commanders were barking orders, and horns sounded out, sending signals between groups. He pulled his horse to a stop, leaped down and tied the beast to a tent pole. He entered the commander's tent, shouting, "What has happened?"

Sir Luc de Vienne, the commander of the expedition, stood at a table, surrounded by his other trusted commanders, looking at a map.

"A rider came in reporting a large army of English on the road south of here, moving north."

"Is it Richard?" Jean asked.

"The men dressed in blue and gold, not the royal colors," one of the knights replied. "Their pennants were gold and bore a blue lion."

"Henry Percy!" Jean retorted. "I thought the Scots said he was holding court in the Isle of Mann!"

"Well, it seems our friends the Scots have misled us on more than one point," Sir Luc replied. "If what the scout says is accurate, we have a less than a day's lead on the Earl of Northumberland. We need to break camp at once and march north. We can scarcely afford to wage a pitched battle."

'Where will we go?" asked another commander.

"Edinburgh," Sir Luc replied.

"But, Sir Luc," Jean de Carrouges interrupted, "King Robert refused to give us shelter in Edinburgh, we burned all the villages and fields from there to here. We are already low on provisions. With no source of food, our men will be starving by the time we get there."

"Then, by God," Sir Luc said, pounding his fist on the table, "if the Scots do not feed us, we will take Edinburgh, burn it to the ground, and go home rich with Scottish gold!"

****

Northumberland, England

August 20, 1385

On the third day after rapidly breaking camp, the English Army under the command of Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland and King of Mann, fell upon the fleeing French army. The bulk of the army escaped, but the English managed to capture the French Wagon train, denying them of their loot and supplies. The French only had the things they wore or carried with them.

Just before dawn the next morning, Sir Luc de Vienne summoned his commanders.

"We cannot outrun Percy's army. We will stand our ground here. Form up defenses, and prepare you men to meet the English face-to-face. There is no hiding the facts. We are outnumbered, starved, and exhausted, while the English are fresh and well supplied. We will all die here today. I am sorry to have brought you all here to this end, but I would rather die fighting our enemy than being chased down and slaughtered as we run away like cowards."

A couple of his men shouted encouragement. Jean studied the map. "Sir Jean, there may be another way. We may not all need to die."

"You would counsel surrender?" Sir Luc asked angrily.

"No, Sir, but I see something on the map that may be a way out of this trap."

"What do you see, Jean?"

"Look here," Jean said, pointing to a spot on the map. "We came from Edinburgh on the east side of the hills, where the way was open. There were fields to forage and villages to plunder. But, we burned those fields and destroyed all the villages, so there is no food left that way."

"Your point being?"

"If we go that way, his army will catch us by nightfall around here," he said, indicating a ruined castle on the map. "The land here is poor to mount a strong defense. We would be caught out in the open. So, I agree. If we plan to fight, it is better to defend here, with the loch on one side and the hills on the other. But, what if that wasn't our plan?"

"What do you mean?"

"See here along the edge of the loch?" Jean asked, running his finger across the map. "Once you reach this point, the river flows east through this valley."

"We considered that course months ago, but the river flooded that valley," one of the commanders spat dismissively.

"Yes," Jean agreed, "Months ago, the river was high, and the canyon was flooded. But, this time of year the water level is down, the valley is passable. Narrow, but passable."

"A narrow death trap if Percy catches us in there!" another shouted.

"Only if we try to fight a formal, pitched battle," Jean countered, "but not if we skirmish and use the terrain to our advantage."

"You think we should take to the hills and valleys, like the Scots?" Sir Luc asked, "instead of marching in the open?"

"We've lost our wagon train," Jean explained. "We don't need open roads and fields anymore. This route is more difficult, but for foot and horse, it is achievable. However, that alone is not enough. You are right that the English would still catch us. What we need is a way to delay them, to slow them down, so the army can make it through the valley. Once you come out here, you're in Scotland and a free run to Edinburgh."

"And how do you propose to slow them down?" Sir Luck asked, growing interested.

"The valley entrance is a natural checkpoint. A small group of men could hold off an entire army there long enough for the rest of our forces to make it out of the valley, one or two days at most. "

"It could work!" one of the Knights offered.

"It might give us the time we need to get away," another added.

"But, this will be suicide for those who man the valley," Sir Luc said solemnly.

"Not necessarily," Jean argued. "You know me, Sir Luc. I have not known as the scourge of the English for nothing. I have found the English all over Brittany and Normandy, using similar tactics. Strike them, then run away, to come about and hit them again. I'm used to fighting in small raiding bands and can set traps for them here and there. I don't need to beat their main force. I simply need to convince them our army is dug in, waiting for them and that attempting the valley will be more costly than they wish to bear. I only need a handful of men to delay them from taking the valley in force."

"So, you are proposing to lead this group of men that we would leave behind?" Sir Luc asked.

"I am."

Sir Luc thought about the idea, scratching his beard, then asked each of the commanders to choose, "Do we stand our ground here and fight the English, or do we let Jean and his men guard our backs as we make a run for the valley?"

To a man, they said, "To the valley."

Sir Luc de Vienne turned to Jean, "You only have three mounted squires left. How many men do you need?"

"One or two more mounted men, plus a dozen archers," Jean said. "Any more and we would get in each other's way."

"Very well, you will have them under your command. Write a letter, Jean, and I if God is willing, I swear to deliver it to your widow personally."

"I don't intend to die, Sir Luc," Jean de Carrouges said, "so I won't write a letter. I made my wife a promise that I would come home, and I intend to keep it."

"I see," Sir Luc said. "Very well then, there is only one matter left to set right. Jean de Carrouges, kneel."