1001. Chapter 1001

After Much Ado About Murder

Episode 8.20

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Once more unto the breach for I do not own Castle. Rating: K Time: See above

This time they were more organized than just a massive rush at the Duke's forces. A column fifty men wide and two hundred deep stormed over the ridge and ran straight for the dismounted men at arms in the center. At the same time a much smaller group of perhaps five hundred ran towards the far edge of the march on Castle's right. Castle couldn't tell, but he thought a similar sized group was headed for the forest on the army's far left.

"Will." Castle called. "Take fifty archers and reinforce the Irish on our right. "He raised his voice and gave his orders to the rest of his men as he rode along the battle line. "Shoot at the head of the column until the pirates hit our center, then fire at the rear of the column. We don't want to shoot our own men.

As Demming's pirates came in range, a barrage of arrows was let loose. Men fell, hit by arrows and crossbow bolts, but the column rushed on, finally slamming into the men at arms.

Castle rode to his left, to see if he should release some of his spearmen to aid in the fight.

"Come to give us a hand, Sir Richard?" Sir James Walden asked, a smile on his face.

"If needed." Castle answered, looking at the mass of fighters not fifty feet from him.

"Then what do you think?"

Castle looked closely at the battle. Then nodded. "You don't need me. Not now, anyway."

Sir James smiled. "Now, tell me why that is?"

"Our men are far better armored and their polearms have a longer reach. Even if a pirate can get close enough to get at one of our men, they do little or no hurt before they are killed." Castle watched a man at arms do just that, taking a sword blow on his armored arm, then slashing at the pirate's face, sending him staggering with his own blood blinding him. Another man at arms speared the pirate, driving his point through the man's neck.

"Very good, Richard. You'll have an army of your own soon."

Castle rode back to the center of his part of the line. The column of pirates was being steadily eroded and some in the back were beginning to flee.

"Captain!" Yelled an archer. "Yon rascals are starting to run. They'll know to fear a good English longbow now."

"Less talk, more shooting." Castle yelled back, but his smile told the archer he wasn't being rebuked.

Castle rode towards the marsh. The Irish hobelars on their small, light horses, moved quickly through the marsh they had previously scouted, staying on more or less solid ground while the pirates floundered in the mud and water. The Irish were harrying their enemy with javelins while the archers, who had stayed out of the marsh shot the arrows across the swamp.

"Will?" Castle called. "Are you doing well?"

Will Fox spat. "The only reason those buffoons haven't run away is that they're stuck in the mire and can't get out. We'll be done with them in …." Will checked the pirates… "In about fifty arrows. Then we'll return."

When Castle rode back to his place in the center, the pirates were once again fleeing. He stood in the saddle and called behind him. "More arrows. Bring up more arrows.

Instantly the women, young children and old people of the company ran to pack horses and mules and took down wicker baskets of arrows. They ran to the archers and took out sheaves of arrows wrapped in twine and pushed the arrows point first into the ground so the archers could get to them easily.

Others brought bolts to the crossbowmen.

A hush fell over the battlefield, broken by the crying and screams of the wounded.

The quiet lasted for a half an hour, then they heard men yelling. Not the screaming of men nerving themselves up for battle, but the bark of orders.

"Their crossbowmen are coming forward." Castle yelled. He watched as the Venetian crossbowmen moved their heavy pavises towards the Duke's forces. At four hundred paces they stopped and began to pound stakes into the ground to support the pavises.

"Archers! Get behind our own pavises." Castle ordered. His archers had just gotten behind whatever cover they could when the enemy began firing. Many crossbow bolts landed short, but others began hitting his men. A trickle of wounded began heading for the baggage train to be cared for.

Castle checked the wind. It was still blowing from the north, but perhaps not as hard as it had been.

"Shoot high and try to drop your missiles on the enemy behind the pavises."

Arrows and bolts filled the air, but many landed short. Those that did land among the enemy were usually going too slowly to do too much damage.

Castle heard a man near him curse. He looked and saw an archer with a gash on one arm.

"Ned, go to your woman and have that bound up."

The archer shook his head. "T'is nothing, Captain." He drew back his bow to its limits and loosed an arrow. "See?" That was his last word. A crossbow bolt struck him in the forehead and he pitched over dead.

Although it was difficult for Castle to tell, the battle was about even for the next hour. Although the enemy was behind stout shields most of the time, they did have to expose themselves to shoot, and the Venetian crossbowmen were heavily outnumbered by the Duke's troops. Plus, although the archers were tiring, they were able to shoot more arrows than their enemies.

"Look!" Cried Kate. "It's Demming's men coming over the ridge."

Once more, the pirates, who in spite of their prior losses still outnumbered the Duke's men by four or five to one, came over the ridge, ran past the line of crossbowmen and headed for Castle's flank. As the pirates ran, crossbow bolts still rained down on Castle and his men.

When the pirates got within three hundred paces, the arrows began striking them down. The pirate's rush slowed down, then stopped. And as quickly as they had begun running towards the Duke's army, they began running away.

As his men cheered, Castle could see a group of horsemen on the far ridge, observing the unsuccessful charge.

"The one in the highly polished armor is de Braquenne, I'm sure." Kate said, suddenly "And the man with the red cloak is Demming." The hatred in her voice surprised Castle and it even surprised Kate.

"They'll both pay for what they've done, Kate. I swear this to you."

As the last of the pirates disappeared over the ridge, mounted knights and men at arms began lining the top of the ridge.

"They're going to charge." Someone yelled." The bastards."

"We'll see them off just as we did at Poitiers."

"Rick, those are well armored knights. Do you really think your arrows can penetrate that? And there are said to be three thousand of them."

Castle winked at the love of his life. "They'll charge the dismounted knights in our center, to begin with. Those nobles won't deign to try to kill us peasants. They'll want to attack the nobility. We'll fire at their horses. Many of their horses will be barded, that is armored, but mostly in the front. When the injured horses start falling and bucking, their charge will fall part. You'll see."

The enemy horsemen sat on the ridgeline for long minutes, just staring at their opponents.

"Why don't they charge?" Kate demanded.

"They want us to get a good look at them. Those are the nobles of France, and from Italy, out there. They want us to see them and be afraid. They're hoping that our bowels will turn to water and we'll run." Castle smiled at Kate. "But we won't. We've done this before."

The horsemen began moving forward at a walk.

"Here they come." Castle yelled.

"We noticed." Cried an archer, getting a laugh.

At the sight of the enemy knights, wounded archers began to head back to their places to do the best they could against their foes. Unsurprisingly, women, older children and the aged grabbed what weapons they could and followed.

As the oncoming cavalry moved from a walk to a trot, they began to crowd into the center so as to be able to attack the dismounted knights, however, there were still plenty headed for the infantrymen on either flank.

The charging cavalry began to speed up, the horsemen in the front spurring their horses in a bid to have the glory of being the first to strike the enemy. At that point, the archers and crossbowmen began firing at the enemy horse.

Kate felt a moment of sadness as the first horses were hit by broad headed arrows that tore into their flesh, causing them to buck and rear and in some cases, throw their riders. As horses crashed down or swerved, they ran into other horses, and more horses went down in a tangle of broken legs and spilled riders. Some riders got up, only to be ridden down by their fellows, others stayed down, either too injured to rise, or unwilling to rise until the horses had passed them by.

The lead horses ran over the caltrops, causing some of the front most riders to lose control of their mounts. As they did, the Duke's troops stepped back, revealing the sharpened stakes. Some horses swerved, causing chaos behind them. Others impaled themselves on the stakes, but some riders managed to ride between the stakes and slam into the English men at arms. Some were trampled, but others attacked the charging knights. Each man who made it to the English knights found themselves facing three or more dismounted men who stabbed at them with spears or swung halberds or bills at them. Soon the enemy knights were unhorsed and once on foot were killed. But more came.

Castle's men were also soon attacked. The wealthier enemies, who had the best horses, the best weapons and importantly the best armor, had been placed in the front of the charge. They had continued to head for the English center. Those poorer knights had been the targets of the missiles Castle's troops had fired. Some were wounded, some had lost their horses and continued on foot and a few rode uninjured horses.

They didn't hit Castle's line in a solid mass, but they did hit it. In spite of the storm of arrows shot at them, they continued on.

One French knight, well armored with a suit of plate armor, walked up to the line of archers with bodkin arrows either glancing off of him or failing to penetrate his armor. He cut down an archer who'd dropped his bow and grabbed a dagger. As he struck, a crossbowman shot him full in the armored helmet. The bolt bounced off, but the enemy knight was stunned. A spearman leapt forward and drove his spear against the man's breastplate. The spear didn't penetrate, but the force knocked the stunned knight on his back. The spearman drew a long dagger and stabbed the knight through the vision slit in his helmet. As he worked the dagger back and forth with one hand, to make sure, the other hand searched for any valuables there might be.

A dozen French knights, wounded themselves and often on wounded horses, organized themselves in a conroi, a band of knights that would ride stirrup to stirrup, using their mass to crash through an enemy.

"There!" Screamed Castle. "That group preparing to charge us. Shoot them."

Dozens of arrows hit the men and their horses until one after another they began to drop. At last only one knight, fully armored and riding an armored horse burst through the line of Castle's men and headed straight for him and for Kate. Kate fired her crossbow but the bolt merely glanced off the knight's breastplate. She grabbed another crossbow from Gwen and fired again, to no avail. The knight kept coming right at Kate.