“According to her lover, there will be two Scotsmen for every Englishman,” he said. “He boasted this to her, evidently. As far as numbers, I do not know what that means, but I can only imagine there will be a great many of them.”
“Thousands, at least,” Cole said, a quiet rumble. “Lest you forget, I’ve spent the past two years with The Rough and the past year or so listening to men speak of this invasion. I know he had Highlanders coming to Edinburgh by the thousands, plus men under the rule of the Earls of Orkney. Longships carry anywherefrom fifty to eighty men, depending on the size of the ship, and if we even have ten of those arrive at Berwick, we are talking about almost a thousand men or more. If there are twenty ships, double that. Add that to the thousands of Scots and there more than likely really will be two Scotsmen for every Englishman. Or more.”
So there it was, out for all to hear. The reality of the situation, bigger than they had expected. Sooner than they had expected. It was up to The Marshal and his armies to stop them.
They were out of time.
Therefore, The Marshal didn’t waste any.
“Then all roads lead to Berwick,” The Marshal said calmly. “Who knew that seaside village would determine the fate of northern England.”
It was a rhetorical statement, but not an untrue one. “It looks that way, my lord,” Cole replied.
William wasn’t one to panic in any case. Panicking never solved anything; he’d learned that long ago. He was an old warhorse with hundreds of battles in his vast experience and he would have to draw on that knowledge.
He gestured to the group.
“All of you will go and eat now,” he said. “Bernicia’s daughter said there is a meal being served in the hall, so partake of it and rest for a few hours. Make sure your men rest and eat. I must speak with de Bourne and de Lohr and de Velt and we must come up with a plan of attack for Berwick. Maxton, you and Sherry will remain. I will send for the rest of you when we are ready to discuss our battle plans.”
The men understood that there was nothing more to do, at least for a few hours, so they turned for the door and began funneling out, but not before Addax and Essien went to Christopher and David and embraced them warmly.
It was the first time they’d all seen each other in a long time, a most pleasant reunion. Christopher smiled wearily at the pair, as proud of them as if they were his own sons. But there was no time for conversation, or for reminiscing, so Addax and Essien followed the others out of the hall. There would be time enough for pleasantries later.
When everyone had gone and the door shut quietly, The Marshal sat down in a chair next to a large table that held maps and the like.
He looked at those left in the room.
Christopher and David de Lohr, Ajax and Cole de Velt, Maxton of Loxbeare and Alexander de Sherrington. Of all of the men at his disposal, these were some of the best. He puffed out his cheeks, trying to determine where to begin.
He looked at Alastor.
“Do you have a map of Northumberland that we can examine?” he asked.
Alastor nodded wearily, a man resigned to the fact that they really were going to war. Perhaps some part of him hoped it would never come to that, but the threat had come to fruition. As the men crowded around his table, he spread out a well-used map that covered the area from the River Tyne to the River Tweed. It was smudged and torn in places, but it gave a good overview.
The Marshal bent over it.
“Now,” he said. “If what Essien’s friend says is true, and The Rough is moving an army out of Edinburgh for Berwick, they should arrive in the next day or two. That is before we can get there. That means we cannot use the element of surprise and their armies will see us coming. Jax, you have fought the Scots longer than I have. Give me your thoughts.”
Jax folded his big arms across his chest, looking at the map before him. He could see just how close Pelinom was to Berwick and that did not give him any comfort in the least.
It put him right on the edge of the battle.
“Before I left Pelinom, I instructed my son, Julian, to take his mother and sisters away from Pelinom,” he said. “Something told me to remove them. Call it a hunch, I suppose, but Julian and about a hundred men are taking my wife and daughters south to Alnwick Castle. Pelinom is strong, but it cannot stand against thousands of Scots and Northmen, so they are heading south as we speak. As for Berwick, it is my sense that it is a three-pronged attack, meaning we will have three objectives.”
The Marshal was looking at him with interest. “And that would be?”
Jax thumped on the map, next to Berwick. “We have Scots coming from the north,” he said. “We have Berwick Castle, and we have the arriving Northmen. Part of the army needs to engage the Scots to drive them away from Berwick while another part of the army shall go for the castle itself. The remains of the army will sit at the mouth of the River Tweed and prevent the Northmen from entering the river by any means necessary.”
It made perfect sense and The Marshal sighed heavily. “That will take a good many men,” he said. “We have six thousand with us now with an additional five or six thousand still coming north. Maxton, can you send word to Caius to take Richmond’s army directly to Berwick?”
Maxton, standing behind David, nodded. “Aye,” he said. “In fact, I will ride to meet him and come north with him. May I suggest something?”
“Please do.”
“If the Northmen haven’t arrived yet by the time this army reaches Berwick, then you can divide your army into two groups to go after the Scots and after the castle,” he said. “Richmond isbig enough to take the mouth of the River Tweed and wait for the Northmen.”
The Marshal cocked an eyebrow. “Providing they move fast enough,” he said. “He is at least two days behind us.”
