“No, I haven’t forgotten. We’ve all been busy. That’s all.”

“Well Olan, what do you think? Should we try some mounted archers?’

“Let’s get some gear, Thomas, and arrange for three horses. We’ll go and try it out. I suppose with your occasional practice you’ll blow me away like thistledown.”

“Ha! We doubt that!” William exclaimed.

Before they had time to move, a company of horsemen led by Bishop Odo clattered into the yard. He was closely followed by Robert de Mortain and his outriders.

“Something’s up!” observed Will.

“A meeting of the cabinet,” inserted Thomas.

“War council?”

The two advisors hurried inside the keep and the young men, intrigued, lounged nearby to be the first with the news. In minutes two messengers had been dispatched on horseback from Duke William’s brothers’ retainers.

“They must be after William fitz Osbern and Roger de Montgomery.”

Within the hour messengers and councillors returned. Sir Richard was hurrying across the yard.

“Thomas, William, come with me.”

“What is it ,Sir?”

“Do I look like an oracle? Wait and find out.” He took his two charges and entered the keep. They made straight for William’s suite. Even through the oak door they could hear the oaths and curses. It caused Sir Richard to stay his knocking hand for a moment. He looked interrogatively at the brothers and shrugged as he struck the door.

“Come in!”

The duke was on his feet. The council was seated and abashed by the tantrum of rage.

“Sit! Tell them, Odo! Tell them!”

“Duke Hubert of Maine died last night.”

“AND!”

Geoffrey de Mayenne has pressured the Maine counts into supporting Walter of Vexin as the new

Duke of Maine. We think Guy of Burgundy and Geoffrey Martel may have a hand in it too.

“Merde! That puppet Walter! Mayenne pulls the strings and that petit batard dances. Did I not warn him?”

“I carried the warning myself, Brother.”

“Thomas, Will, take minutes of this meeting.”

“Yes, My Lord.” They replied.

“Robert, my brother, your advice?”

“My Lord, I am more familiar with the English scene. I have lost track of the machinations of the French aristocracy. I would suggest we mobilize our troops and mass on the Maine border. I am positive they will concede.”

“Time?”

“Six weeks, My Lord.”

“Merde de beouf! Roger?”

My Lord, let us ride to Hubert’s castle for the funeral and throw the traitorous bunch out.” He got an exasperated look from the duke.

“Odo?”

“Brother, I don’t believe they will be dislodged that easily. My informants tell me that as the old man’s health failed, the cabal moved their own soldiers into close proximity of the castle claiming to be in support of Duke Hubert. As soon as he gave up the ghost, their troops married Hubert’s troops under the pretense of warding off invasion from the outside- namely you, My Lord.”

“Cochon sale! They knew of my claim. They knew of Hubert’s promise. I should have made my presence felt. Odo remove that tardy informant, permanently! He has caused me an untidy situation. William?”

Will Trivett nearly jumped out of his skin, but William fitz Osbern answered.

“My Lord, subjugating Maine may be a time consuming affair. Long expeditions make tall demands on the treasury. If we are to attack, I suggest rapidity. We must mobilize quickly and strike before the minor castles and estates can mount a defense. We can leave no enemies behind us or allow our supply lines to be severed. These minor counts will be adverse to burning stores and food on their own land. If we are quick, we can prevent their unity. We may even find scattered pockets of support, for some or many will see through the puppet from Vexin.

“Sir Richard?”

“My Lord, your garrison and local troops have been training hard since the Trivett lads joined our little band. Olan, the archer, has had the garrison unit out six days a week. The peasant archers have been training three days a week. Thomas and William have talked their father into fletching arrows. He has organized a guild for production. The infantry has been training diligently , mostly under Sir Rupert, the perfectionist. They are all armed with the new Crusader swords and the best shields. The lancers are using my mechanics to increase their throws from the ground and from horseback. The men are in a high state of readiness and eager to practice their lessons.

The war machines will be our only problem. Scaling ladders, assault towers and slings will need rehabilitation, repairs and transport. Many of Maine’s castles are still wooden stockades rather than the stone of the Norman castle. Two or three well-placed rocks should breach their walls.”

“William!” Poor Will Trivett was shaken again.

“Yes, My Lord.”

“How long will it take to prepare the supply wagons for our outing?”

“Ten days, My Lord.”

“Roger, how long will it take to amass our vassal army?”

“Twelve days, My Lord.”

“Richard, how long will it take to revitalize our siege machines?”

“Twelve days, My Lord.”

“I’m glad you all agree on five days. We will march in five days.”

“FIVE DAYS!” They said incredulously.

“That’s better than I expected. Everyone called for five days except our two scribes. Thomas, William, how do you feel about five days?”

“Agreed, Duke William.”

“Set your men to work. Delegate authority as I delegate it to you. Report here tomorrow with your progress and your figures. We will meet at this hour for five days. Be ready!” William of Normandy disappeared through the door.

The five war councillors quickly divided responsibilities. Arms, machines, supplies, tactics, men transportation. They broke quickly. Thomas naturally after completing his minutes went with Sir Richard. Robert de Mortain requested the use of William and Sir Richard agreed tentatively, but would not overstep his place without getting permission from Sir Rupert.

“Five Days! My God save us!”

The war council had hardly emerged from the keep and the orders were on the wind. None of the

council were new to this process. Riders were off in all directions. War was declared. The other party expected it, but they hadn’t been informed.

Roger sent his riders to every castle and manor house in Normandy. “Your liege lord , William of Normandy requests your troops, armed and supplied in Rouen in five days time.”

“But?”

“Five days without fail.” And on went the rider. The comtes became mobile. Their habitants became mobile. They were on the road to war. The young were excited. The old wondered if their number was up. Bows, arrows, crossbows, quarrels, swords, armor, packs and supplies all were readied. Some had to leave within the day. They would be more dependent on the minister of supply Bishop Odo.

Robert sent for the engineer, smith and carpenter. Siege equipment stored since the invasion of Anjou was drawn into the light. Will Trivett following the four men, Count Robert, the carpenter, the smith and the engineer noted the changes and repairs that the men saw for the war machines. Each artisan in turn, called in his assistants and on Will’s recitation of the ills, men were assigned to correct the fault.

“Five Days!”

“Just do it and do it right!”

Count Robert did not abandon his work. He and Will checked every machine that was prepared against the list. War was a big enough killer without death by faulty equipment. It appeared Robert de Mortain would be responsible for the siege apparatus.

Bishop Odo employed his priests. Who could refuse the church as the clergy forgave the peasants sins or freed them from tithes if they supplied food stuffs and oxen and horse teams to transport it.

“Five Days!”

“Be there without fail.” Did les Peres threaten lives or excommunication?

Richard and Thomas activated their own soldiery. Olan prepared his archers. Rupert activated the infantry. The young set out arms first; the old set out food first. There were always plenty of arms on the battlefield, but food was seldom aplenty. Tim the hosteler, was assigned the transportation problem. He called in assistance of farriers and smiths. Nothing could be left to chance. The Sir Richard, Squire Jean and Thomas team reunited. They turned out every tool of war available. The fletcher’s guild controlled by Thomas Trivett Sr. met their appeal. Men collected gear. Lances, arrows, bows, chain mail, swords, helmets were turned out. Thomas dutifully recorded every cession of equipment. This was William of Normandy-tight as bark to a tree. Most wanted their own equipment, familiar and trusted, but all wanted the Crusader whether they were entitled to it or not. Within the day, the encampment about the castle began. Men and supplies in sight of the castle’s turrets moved quickly. Then the army adage took over: Hurry up and wait! Infantry reported to Sir Rupert. He was swamped with work. He delegated authority to the younger knights and they formed the reserve forces into units. A sergeant from the regular garrison took control as sergeants are wont to do and threw their beginners and veterans into an eight hour day training program. There were few places to escape the clash of swords or the swish of lances.

Olan, only a sergeant from the garrison, was recognized far and wide as the archer par excellence. He was nearly snowed under by his work load. He delegated authority and archery units released end after end of arrows. He had “Five Days!” to turn full-time farmers into part-time archers.

Sir Richard assisted Roger de Montgomery to mobilize the knights as soon as he had Squire Jean and Thomas settled dispensing arms. The cavalry attacked imaginary enemies. They launched their spears in wave after wave. They were admonished by Count Roger and Sir Richard. “”Five Days!” to correct their faulty throws. They fought on horseback: they fought on the ground. The clashes of Toledo steel rang out from sun-up to sun-down. And, the camp grew.

Bishop Odo was everywhere supervising the incoming supplies. Did he know the old adage, ‘ An army travels on its stomach”. Most likely he did. Wagons and teams were expropriated, reloaded and manned. Cooks, farriers, smiths and carpenters were prepared as a mobile workshop. “ What to take;

what to leave behind”. Was in all their minds? Confusion reigned. Holy Mary, Mother of God!

“Five Days.”

The war council met. All looked frazzled.

“Gentlemen,” The Duke jocularly reported, “Steward William and I have been planning our campaign while you have been lolling about the camp.” Snorts of derision and denial rose from the councillors , the Duke laughed. “ I know how hard you have been working. I’d like to have your assessment of our position first.”

Each councillor reported their present stance, they estimated the time necessary for completion and they begged for more time. William the Bastard ,as his enemies called him, was adamant- four more days. Each and every man shook his head in negation.

“Steward, reveal our King Henry map of France.” William fitz Osbern drew aside the drapery. “Only eight people will know of our campaign and they are within this room. No one else will know until it is enacted.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Pay heed to my Steward. Let him finish his presentation and then you may question our route if not our intelligence. Continue Steward.”

“According to Bishop Odo’s informants the long panhandle of Maine on our eastern border is not committed to Geoffrey de Mayenne, Walter of Vexin or even the dead Duke Hubert. We will march to our southern border at Alecon. We expect to move everything in two and a half days. One of the enemy will have informants either in our camp or on the route. They may mass their troops for a field battle along the Maine/Norman border. We will at this point set up camp for an apparent long stay in a long war. Under cover of darkness we will march east to Mortagne Castle. When they wake our war machine will be in place. We don’t expect they will surrender without a fight, but since Maine has fortified Hubert’s castle opposition should be light. Once Mortagne is captured we are secure from the rear. The opposing army on the border will have to find us. We will drive southwest and roll up the wooden-walled castle at Mamers and the stone Bonnetable. Now we will be south of and behind any battlefield the usurpers Mayenne and Vexin have selected at the border. Besides we will have the high ground. If they have retreated or failed to defend the line, we will head straight west to Mayenne and from a southerly position reduce the castle, town and state to rubble.

That opens the road to Laval. Bishop Odo suggests their massed troops are surrounding Hubert’s Castle at Laval. But, it is only a day and a half to Le Mans and they could select it as their preference for battle. The battle for Maine begins and ends in either Laval or Le Mans. Questions?”

Roger looked perplexed, “When we go east to Mortagne, the army of the border may invade Normandy. They are free to ramble to Picardy in the north.

The Duke answered, “True Roger, but, they have no valid reason to enter Normandy much less attack Normandy. We are the aggrieved party. Brother Odo has appealed to the Pope for his support in the theft of my property –the province of Maine. The appeal was golden . The pope is a pig consumed with greed. He has accepted my golden truth. ‘Hubert promised me his ducal seat.’ We don’t believe they will declare war. Subtly, we will. Robert?”

“While we are busy at Mayenne we are only four hours from Laval. If we attack from the south we are trapped between two forces. The Mayenne Castle and the Duke of Maine’s army.”

Fitz Osbern answered, “True Robert. However, we hope to prevent any messages travelling south to Laval or Le Mans. We will likely kill anyone we encounter. We want to travel in secrecy and with lightning speed. If the enemy can’t find you, or arrive after you have gone you needn’t fret about reinforcements from the south. It is always disconcerting to a defender to find he is facing the wrong direction when he comes under attack. Odo?”

“I have been adding up the miles—eighty miles to Alencon, twenty miles to Mortagne, twenty miles to Mamers, twenty miles to Bonnetable and sixty miles to Mayenne. That’s two hundred miles our

army must march double quick, breach four castles and contend with a border army. All this must be done with a weary army and free of breakdowns. If we march south directly to Laval we cut our distance in half and we strike at the heart of their army.”

William the Duke, leaned back in his chair. “That is true Odo. Do not forget though, that after we defeat the Maine Army I must have control of the land. This is one way to impress the country-side that obedience to Norman Law is wise. All this is tentative, of course. We will meet again tomorrow for further discussion. Bring your queries and suggestions for the expedition. Dismissed.”

All filed out except pages Thomas and William who continued to write the minutes. The councillors had much to do in their fields. William, the page, was released to Sir Rupert who was beleaguered by work. Count Robert had a work force capable of fixing the war machines without the boy. Another day of frantic preparations ensued. Sword arms, bow arms, and lance bodies ached from unaccustomed use. Elbows and shoulders groaned and creaked. Stomachs demanded sustenance to replace the burned calories. Bodies demanded sleep to replenish the worn parts. It was hectic and more arrivals were surrounding Rouen for assimilation into the Norman army.

At ten a.m., day three, the war ministers met again in Duke William’s rooms. No one had a better plan. Odo, the bishop, was still in favor of a direct attack, but couldn’t make a strong enough case to convince the others to leave enemy forces in their rear. They gave their report. The slings and catapults were throwing rocks up to five hundred paces and the operators of these artillery pieces were gaining accuracy. The infantry and archers had started to coalesce. The knights were picking up the reins of command as the sergeant’s curses drove the men.

Day Two! Day One! The giant millipede that was the Norman Army began to move. Duke William and his personal guard, the knights, the infantry, the archers, the war machines, the supplies and travelling workshop started on the southern route. The soldiers were exuberant; the horses alert. They were finally doing something.

Page William was reassigned to Count Robert while Thomas served Sir Richard. William carried his sword, throwing knife and bow. Thomas had his Crusader, knife and two bows. Both boys were mounted , but not on their choice of horse. They got the dregs of the stable. In two and a half days the five thousand man army drew rein outside Alencon. They turned a large area into what appeared to be a permanent camp. Fires burned ; tents appeared. Food was prepared. Men were fed. Sentinels were posted. Scouts were assigned. From the border it appeared to be a staging area.

As the sky darkened in a new moon, clandestine operations began. All was muted; all was dark. Fires burned low. The army had grabbed a few hours sleep and now in excitement they moved away from the tents and fires. Over a slight rise they formed their train again. A few men were selected by lot to maintain the semblance of an army camp as long as they could. Not one sword, not one harness trace chain not one squeaking wheel revealed the army on the move. Twenty miles separated them from their target Mortagne. Knights and sergeants rode herd on their flock. “No talking!”

After ten miles Duke William called a respite. He called his war ministry for a brief consultation. “Gentlemen, as you know Mortagne was once Norman territory. Brother Odo and I expect there is still Norman sentiment in the town. We’d like to take the castle and town with a minimum of bloodshed and turn the inhabitants to our cause. Any suggestions?”

“My Lord,” began Count Roger, “ We could show our might before the castle and under a flag of truce suggest the futility of Mortagne’s opposition to our Norman Army.”

“Yes, I was thinking that. Sir Richard?”

“My Lord, why leave their surrender to chance. When we arrive in the wee hours of the morning let’s send a small force up the scaling ladders and over the walls. Anywhere from six to a dozen cutthroats could reduce the parapet guard to headless sticks. Slit throats make no sound. When the castle awakens in the morning and views your might in the field, and discovers the enemy on the parapet, they may feel more inclined to surrender.”

“Who would go?”

King’s Man

“I would, My Lord. I wouldn’t send my men on a mission I wouldn’t attempt myself.”

“And?”

“My squire Jean and page Thomas. I’d like Sir Rupert, but he is essential to Count Roger. Olan , the archer, would be a welcome addition. He can shoot the eye out of a mouse at fifty paces. I think three of those villainous archers and three of Count Roger’s cutpurses would suffice.”

“Do it! I may be sacrificing ten men, but saving an army. Pass the word. We will move out now.”

Sir Richard located Jean and Thomas at the head of the cavalry column. He passed the reins of command to another knight of the castle garrison. The Toledo trio caught up to Olan. Quickly, Richard explained the scheme to the three younger men.

“Don’t you think you are too old for such an encounter, Sir?” Dared Olan. That nearly blew their position with an explosion. Richard’s eyes flashed fire in the starlight.

“Too old!” but he controlled himself. Olan was left to pick his knife-bearing archers. He called a garrison sergeant to forfeit his command. The four were to meet Sir Richard’s trio at the war machines. Count Roger de Montgomery had already approached Sir Rupert, who immediately volunteered. Not only did he volunteer, he begged. He had to be told he couldn’t go, “Duke’s orders!” Rupert dug out three of the seediest killers in the infantry. They were taken post haste to the scaling ladders.

Ten men mounted the ladder wagon and Richard explained the plan. Everyone was allowed to withdraw; no one did.

William Trivett became privy to the plan. He was driving the ladder wagon. He would be involved. At three a.m. the army was given a rest one mile from the castle. The old soldiers curled up for a nap; the youngsters were too excited. The advance scouts reported; particularly the wall guard was of interest to the force. The scaling force was divided into three. Sir Richard, Thomas ,an archer and a cutthroat: Olan, an archer and a cutthroat: Jean, an archer and a cutthroat. When the procession halted the scaling teams continued. Eleven men padded silently toward the Castle of Mortagne. Eleven men! Someone uninvited was abroad. How were they prepared? Each team carried one ladder, upper rails coated with material for silent climbing. Each team was given one wall; south, east and north. The west wall defenders may be the most alert. They may have been warned of the Normans.

Each team member was equipped with a knife, some sharpened on both sides. One had a Toledo throwing knife. Each carried either a bow and a supply of arrows or in the case of the infantry a cross bow and quarrels on their backs. All but the archers were equipped with a sword, but the swordsman were warned to wear it between their shoulder blades to avoid noise. Every man blackened his face with charcoal and tied a piece of hemp rope on their shoulders. “What for?” was the obvious question. Sir Richard explained.

“In the dark you will not know friend from foe. With one hand reach for the shoulder. The other hand will have a knife at the person’s throat. A ropeless shoulder should become a headless shoulder. A roped shoulder is your friend. No chance for error.

Secure the parapet from your ladder to the east. When you unite with my team we will attack the western wall together. Bodies outside the castle.”

At 3.25 all teams were in place. A pseudo-owl hooted. The teams began to climb. The walls were not high, sixteen feet at the most. The climbers ran up the ladders and dropped over the wall. East side up! North side up! South side Clank! A swinging cross bow of the last man struck the wall.

“Who’s there?”

Olan, put an arrow in the sentry’s throat and another through his heart The invading team upped the sentry’s heels and he dove quietly into space. One down. Knives that had been held in the teeth for the climb were transferred to the strong hands. The north and south made for the eastern invasion team. The problems were the corner turrets. Each was lit by two torches. Inside the northeast turret were two men,

one presumably the sergeant of the guard. Jean’s team had dispatched the first sentry as a cutthroat reached for an unadorned shoulder and the knife slit the defender ear to ear. The sergeant of the castle guard was telling of his exploits with the ladies of the evening. His compatriot was tired and bored. He’d heard all the boastful stories before. He yawned. A Tink! Tink! Tink! Sound arose outside the turret.

“What the hell is that?”

He levered his tired body to his feet and stepped out in the cool morning air. He turned right to the sound of knife on stone. A knife flashed from the roof above. A head loosened from its shoulders. Two strong archer hands grasped the shirt front of the falling body and propelled it over the wall. Jean, with the tinking knife was through the door before the body spread-eagled in the empty air. The sergeant had time to say, “Jesus Christ!” before the Toledo Crusader lopped off his head. As the torches were extinguished the unannounced invader slipped by the turret door and made his way along the east wall.

The four eastern invaders had gained the parapet without incident. Two insurgents went each way. Richard and a cutthroat met two Mortagne defenders. Richard made short work of the first sentry, but the second man slightly behind had time to bring his own blade into play. He skewered Richard’s helper and ran the parapet toward Thomas and his archer partner. Thomas aroused by the commotion to the south turned to meet the attack of the defender. The archer was distracted. A rush from the north lifted him bodily from the parapet and dumped him unceremoniously inside the wall. Thomas met the sentry from the south with a knife to sword parry and slipped inside to cut the defender’s throat. He heard a gurgle behind him and turned to find a northern sentry spewing blood. The defender teetered and fell at Thomas’ feet. Thom felt the back and extracted a Toledo throwing knife. “William!” His ‘little’ brother leaned over and retrieved his weapon. The two brothers tipped the bodies over the wall. The southeast turret was empty. The teams were now united. Jean had an archer, an infantry man, William and Thomas. Sir Richard had Olan, an archer and an infantry man. They made their way west along the north and south walls. The only ones surprised were the defenders. The invaders had secured the parapet with one death and one archer unaccounted for. A torch signalled William of Normandy and his army.

As the eastern sky brightened and faint stars faded in the increasing light, the Norman Army started to move. Richard drew his clandestine band together. “The building close to the gate is the barracks. The guard should be changing any moment. We do not want these men to leave the building. I’m certain we can discourage them. We’ve lost an infantry cross bowman , but our archers are present.”

“Sir, we are short one archer.”

“What?”

Olan caught William by the collar and thrust him forward, “An interloper, Sir.”

“Jesus, Son of God!”

“No Sir, It’s me, William Trivett.”

“We’ll deal with this later. Select a position around the wall. Watch the barracks, but watch the returning sentries also. Let anyone go in, but not a mouse come out. Olan will stay immediately in front of the door with me. Lay a few extra arrows sticking over the parapet as if more than our little band are concealing themselves on the stones.”

The insurgents complied partially concealing themselves on the wall. The army was in plain view and dispersing in a complete surround of the castle Mortagne. A gate sentry ran to the barracks. He burst through the door to the dark interior. He must have been shouting for Richard’s team heard every word. Light flashed as candles were lit. In short order the door swung inward and a foot was evident. Richard pointed. Olan loosed a Trivett arrow. The foot was impaled, arrow head embedded in the oaken floor. The owner of the booted foot screamed. A face appeared at the only window. Will’s second arrow struck soft flesh too. Another guard abandoned the gate house and was met by a quarrel from Sir Richard’s crossbow. The guard clutched the fletching with both hands and lay down on the cobbled yard. All was quiet except

the surrounding army. Whispering escaped the barrack door. Richard shouted.

“Captain of the guard.”

“Who are you? What do you want?

“We are your Norman saviors ready to deliver you out of the hands of Mayenne the usurper. Come out Captain. I wish you to see the man before your gate. No other soldier may leave the building.”

“What guarantee do I have that you will not murder me?”

“We could have let you come out before if we had wished to kill you. Besides, you have my word as a knight and my oath in God’s name.”

The captain decided to chance it. He stepped through the door weaponless. Richard stood and directed him by pointing to the gate. The captain strode quickly to see what the guard had already orally reported.

“My God! All of Normandy is out there! What would you have me do?”

“Captain, send one unarmed man to warn your inhabitants. Do not open a door or look out a window for you will invite an arrow if you do. You must report your discovery to the Count of Mortagne. I suggest you encourage him to surrender to Duke William of Normandy post haste. The Count can order the gate opened and greet his new liege lord.”

“Yes, Sir Knight.” He rushed back to the barracks and dispatched a messenger. The Captain waited not a minute and made for the keep. Two armed soldiers burst out the door. They caught two arrows each. They had one in their chest from the south and one in the spine from the north. They reclined immediately. The captain didn’t stop ; he bustled inside.

It didn’t take him long to explain the gravity of their position to the Count. In a few minutes the captain reappeared bearing a white flag and leading the Count of Mortagne. The two made straight for the gate and ordered it opened. The gate sentries fell to the windlass and raised the portcullis and opened the barred gates. The count and captain walked forth to discover William of Normandy’s pennant flying less than an arrow’s flight away. They bowed. William rode forth to his personal guard’s chagrin and saluted with his sword. Sir Richard made certain Olan and Jean had control and left the wall to cover the two Mortagne men while William approached. He checked them for hidden weapons as Normandy’s entourage neared. He gave the all clear sign to the Normans.

The count greeted William. “My, Lord.” And bowed. The captain had no choice but to follow suit. The Duke dismounted and personally raised the Count and captain to a erect position.

“Count de Mortagne. Captain. How nice to see you again. Gentlemen. I hope you have not sworn to support the puppet usurper Walter of Vexin or that disloyal traitor Mayenne. If you have, we will have to kill you.” And he smiled sardonically.

“No, My Lord,” they cringed.

“Excellent. Maybe you would like to swear allegiance to me. There is no doubt we could use you to dislodge those troublemakers from Duke Hubert’s castle. How do you feel about that gentlemen?”

The count with Toledo steel at his kidney accepted it with alacrity.

“Bishop Odo, these gentlemen wish to swear. Come forth.”

Odo produced a Bible from his saddle bags, dismounted and proceeded with the oath. It was exactly the same as Thomas had sworn.

“We will now proceed to the castle, Sirs. Sir Richard, the captain would like to tell you about Castle Mortagne and its defenders. The count and I will compare forces and have a glass of wine. Call Sir Rupert forward. He has some new Mortagne recruits. Place one, at the most two in each unit of our army. The count will walk with me. I am certain the Captain and the Count have many interesting tales about our enemies. We’ll listen intently. Were there deaths Sir Richard?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Ah malheureusement! Count Roger would you see to a burial detail for these poor unfortunates?

“Mais oui, My Lord.”

A company of men were assigned to Sir Richard as he accompanied the captain back to his barracks. There may have been some rabid supporters of Walter of Vexin. One hundred men had been trapped inside by the eight insurgents on the wall. Their situation was explained to them. To a man they decided their future lay in the Norman Army. They were quickly assembled, packed and marched off for assimilation with the Normans. Each sergeant was warned to keep a close watch.

Once Sir Richard had been relieved of the Mortagne garrison and the castle was secure, he finally brought down his force of stealth from the walls. He shook hands with each one until he came to William.

“What in hell were you doing on the ladders, you little queque?”

“Sir, wasn’t I part of your force?”

“What in hell gave you that idea you little ----------?”

“Sir, you met on my wagon, you used my ladders, you had me unload them and you took me into your confidence in your meeting with the men.”

Jean and Olan had a frozen smile on their faces.

“What in Jesus name are you two laughing at?”

They wiped their faces clean.

“Am I to be cursed with these Trivett assholes the rest of my life. You were that close to being killed!”

“Sir Richard?” pleaded Thomas.

“What?”

“Sir, if William had not thrown the Toledo knife I would be accompanying the burial detail.”

“Sir, when Thomas and I were sent to the castle we swore a blood oath to watch each others back. I couldn’t let him go on such a dangerous mission alone.”

“Merde!” and he started with his index finger beating a tattoo on Will’s chest. “You are going to get away with your escapade this time, but if you ever pull a stunt like that again I’ll tan your ass with a black snake whip!”

“Yes, Sir Richard,” saluted William and Will broke into a huge smile.

Richard turned on his heel and threw his hands in the air. He cursed loudly and talked gently to himself as he left the group to their smiles. All made off for the breakfast fires. Notably, the eight warriors stuck together.

The Count de Mortagne, Duke William and Bishop Odo meanwhile were deep in conversation. The Count did the answering as the other two sought information on their enemies.

The army, yet to loose an arrow or a lance , was disappointed yet relieved that the castle fell without a battle. They were allowed to stand down for the rest of the day. They were to be ready to march at sun-up carrying the war to the province of Maine. Sir Richard received a disturbing report after sun-down. One of the hundred Mortagne troops had disappeared.

“Should have killed them all!” and off he went to inform Duke William.

William’s response was unconcern. “Thank you, Sir Richard. The enemy had to find out. Only eight know our new destination. Ask Count Robert to wait on me. We will need a small garrison to hold Mortagne when we march. Mayenne and Vexin will not try to recover it until their position is more secure.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

The army with full belly, a half day rest, and an entire night’s sleep were ready to move out the following day. The millipede, ten thousand legs of war, reversed the trail . In appearance they were returning west to their camp at Alencon. After ten miles the Duke made a left rein and the lion of war turned south. By early evening the scouts in the van reported the sighting of Mamers. The castle was fortified. The walls bristled with defenders. Mamers was not going to be a Mortagne. William divided

his army well in advance of the town. One column of men veered east; one west. The war machines stayed north. By dusk the town was encircled and the ring of Normans began to close to arrow distance. The land was empty, but the scouts scoured the walls with their eyes. The army settled in for the night.

“Tell your cooks to save all the fat!” and the message passed fire to fire.

No scaling ladders were unloaded; no catapults were loaded; no assault towers were prepared. What was the plan?

The army stirred at sun-up. It was almost a leisurely breakfast. It would have been leisurely if the threat of a deadly encounter had no chance of becoming fact. Sir Rupert was summoned.

“Rupert, I want you to take Count Mortagne and under a flag of truce approach Mamers Castle. We will offer them a chance to surrender without bloodshed. If they wish to fight we will destroy them.”

Rupert and the Count set off carrying a white flag on a lance. They slowly approached the walls. They were met by hoots of derision from the castle. They stopped before the gate. Rupert delivered the Duke’s message. As he demanded an answer, a rain of arrows showered the two messengers. Sir Rupert had time to employ his shield to deflect the flight. Whether the Count drew the defender’s ire as a turncoat or his lack of training in recent months left him vulnerable, he gathered three arrow in his body and tumbled left out of the saddle. Rupert had kicked his horse into a leap toward the wall and disrupted the archers’ aims. He escaped, leaping his horse over the fallen Count. Duke William was outraged.

“Burn them out!”

Arrows were wrapped and dipped in the pails of grease. Flights of burning missiles were launched in great fiery arcs. The brands embedded in wooden walls, alighted on thatched roofs, and set fire to the defender’s clothing. The fort was now more involved in fire fighting than defending.

“Again!”

The sky was again carrying a fiery path. Already the walls were alight.

“Again!”

It was like a clout practice. Someone must be made to pay for the treachery to Count Mortagne and the flag of truce. The castle grounds and the castle town became an inferno. The defenders decided to make a fight of it and threw open the gates

“Loose!”

The defenders met a withering fire from the archers. They enacted a terrible toll.

“Attack! Take no prisoners!”

With open gate, the infantry invaded the fort and town. Not a soul was spared. The buildings became funeral pyres. Maine would know the might and right of William the Bastard.

Just after midday the battle for Mamers was over. The burial crew began their work. Bodies were pitched into burning homes. The army retreated to the west into the prevailing wind to escape the smell of burning flesh. Quiet descended on the camp in mute testimony to the violence of war. The meal did not taste as good as last night’s.

Three days had yielded two major objectives. Supplies were not low as yet, but the next day before departure the supply team from Alencon had crossed the border and met the army encamped at Mamers. They had met no opposition by good fortune or the enemies’ withdrawal toward Laval.

Again the army arose. It was ten miles to their next target, Bonnetable. It appeared Duke William was attempting to take Maine east to west. Maine scouts reported the Norman Army moving south towards Bonnetable and the major town of Le Mans. Maine force -marched their troops the forty miles Laval to Le Mans.

“Let William the Bastard try to take Le Mans!”

William’s army was as yet more or less untried. They didn’t fight at Mortagne and were faced with terrified human torches at Mamers. In four hours Bonnetable was in sight. It was not susceptible to clandestine tricks; it was not a wooden tinder box; it was a fortified stone castle well positioned on higher

ground. The scouts reported, “Well defended. Alert.”

William moved in his heavy artillery. Three catapults and a sling were rolled ahead of the troops. They drew up and spread apart just out of an arrow flight. The stone missiles were drawn by the wagon teams to the field.

“Compress, load, Fire!”

A steady hail of stones landed within the walls. Some struck the parapet. Some struck the walls themselves. Some killed the inhabitants. The machines on the flanks were moved to the east and west and the great stones fell on Bonnetable.

“Archers, Loose!” Indiscriminate arrows like a flock of starlings darted over the wall. Neither the rocks not the arrows were responsible for great loss of life. They were a constant that warned, ‘Keep your head down’ The assault towers under the cover of the artillery were rolled toward Bonnetable’s walls. The motive power of the shielded infantry came under fire from the crenelated walls. The defending archers began to take a toll. The Norman archers responded selecting particular wall depressions to cover their infantry. The towers closed on the castle. The crossbowed infantry began to swarm up the ladders. The men of Bonnetable recognized the enormous threat of the assault towers and redoubled their efforts to destroy the attack. As a Norman fell from the tower another was scrambling to take his place. The attackers took a terrible toll too. This was a war of attrition. Between the two towers and protected by the towers themselves, came the ladder assault. A unit ran in carrying the broad ladder. It was tipped against the wall and when it struck the stone men were already climbing two men to a step. The castle army tried to foil the ladder attack. Long forked poles were nocked on ladder rungs and the top of the ladder was forced into empty space. Pots of boiling water and grease were tipped over the wall. Invaders met scalding death and broken bones, but there was another ladder and more climbers. The men on the assault towers turned their attention to the ladder repellers. The ladder scalers must develop the Norman beachhead. Sheer force of numbers pushed the Maine defenders off the north wall between the towers. Ladder infantry closed on the defenders with knife and sword. Assault tower infantry now in close contact with the walls leaped to the parapet. Archers in aid of the infantry replaced the foot soldiers vacating the towers. Then accurate arrows found the Bonnetable men at a distance. The beachhead grew.

William Trivett who was responsible for the ladder wagon had made certain of the unloading. With the last ladder he took hold of the base as the climbers raced to the wall. He set the legs and held them. Infantry leapt to the rungs. One of the men took a quarrel through the neck. It severed the carotid artery and blood geysered over the ladder. Will at the base jumped into his place and went hand over hand like a monkey to the top of the wall. The gap in the defenders was widening. Will as not yet engaged, looked down into the castle yard. Directly below was a thatched roof. Will , the opportunist, stepped lightly off the parapet, struck the thatch with his buttocks and slid to the ground. More soldiers followed him. On a narrow parapet two determined men could block the passage of an army. Will and his jumpers opened a second front. The wall defenders now had an enemy behind them. Ground forces provided stiff opposition to the jumpers. After the initial gains by the Normans in the castle yard, the Bonnetable archers from the keep and the infantry force seemed on the verge of stamping out Will’s flying assault troops. Down came Sir Rupert, and man or superman, he rallied the hard-pressed Norman ground force. “To the Gate!” William spitted the body before him. Somehow, although his senses were on high alert, he thought. ‘ I don’t even have to think about sword play. I’m reacting instinctively.’ Which was a great surprise. He turned to follow Sir Rupert. An irate demon cut off Will’s advance. The defender, a powerful stocky man swung a claymore, a great two-handed sword, in an over head arc. Will parried. The enemy stepped inside with his knife. Will parried. The enemy dropped his shoulder and bunted Will. A body behind the boy upset his balance and he fell. The huge sword was already to descend when a black and white fletched arrow from above was tucked behind the Bonnetabler’s collar bone and seemingly nestled in his shirt. The eight pound sword clattered to the ground as the wounded man clutched the arrow to him. Will glanced to the wall to see Thomas nocking another arrow. Will rolled to his feet and rushed toward the gate.

They reached the entrance to the yard. The castle guards fought courageously. If the gate was opened, their fate was sealed. With two flashes of Toledo steel, Rupert and Will dispatched the last two guards and then the knight and page turned to repel further attacks as the Normans raised the portcullis and unbarred the oaken gate. With a rush of air the Norman knights galloped through the gate two abreast. Norman infantry split before the cavalry and exposed the enemy to the lances and Crusader swords of the mounted men. It soon became a mop-up exercise outside the keep. Inside the keep the Bonnetablers must have expected a relief column from Le Mans. They continued to resist. Occasional arrows came from the turrets and slits in the masonry. Some defenders were still on the roof. Roger de Montgomery called for their surrender, but he was rebuffed. He reported.

Duke William called on Robert de Mortain. “Brother Robert, bring in your battering ram and have them wait outside the wall. Adjust the sling and catapult to strike the keep. If you must, take the stone throwers inside the wall. We will soften the keep before we breach it.”

The orders were given. Men and machine galvanized into action. Normans backed from the keep. Catapults were loaded. Adjustments in trajectory were made. Every stone struck the keep. Damage was done physically, but it was more demoralizing than physical. In a brief planned respite the purposeful ram was run at the door. It held, but the reverberation must have echoed room to room. The rammers turned and made a quick retreat. Not quickly enough , two carriers fell to defender arrows. The artillery catapults resumed. One missile hit the door area. The battering ram remanned was ready again. The rocks stopped. Back came the ram. The door held, but the masonry after the catapult’s strike gave. One side of the frame hung loosely. The ram retreated, but came back immediately and opened a locked and barred door. Sir Rupert released his assault troops. They rushed the opening, some with crossbow, some with sword . Through the door it was a shoot-out of quarrels. The defenders aimed; the invaders pointed. Quarrels were loosed. Those who weren’t dead dropped the useless bows and continued with drawn sword. In spite of the Herculean resistance, the Normans were established in the interior. Norman archers at the smashed door provided covering fire while infantry prepared for a further advance. In an arrow hiatus the swordsmen advanced and engaged the Bonnetable defenders. The Norman archers rushed through the opening. The fight continued for the first floor- archers, infantry, archers, infantry. The defenders considered their position. Relief from Le Mans was an unrealistic hope. Defending the second floor was possible if the Normans attempted to assail them by sword and arrow. However, a smoky fire on the ground floor would suffocate the inhabitants. Duke William could well afford to wait for smoke inhalation. Count Roald of Bonnetable made his first and last decision of the day. He ordered the surrender of Bonnetable. With the white flag, hostilities ceased. Count Roald presented his sword to Willaim of Normandy. The captured Bonnetablers were pressed into service as burial details. The battle for Bonnetable was costly to both sides. Bonnetablers were decimated; the Normans lost many men. It was decision time again. Duke William would have to call his councillors for a meeting in the field.

What would they do with Bonnetable?

What would they do with Count Roald and Bonnetablers?

What would they do with the injured and maimed?

What time did they need for recovery?

What would be their next target?

Bonnetable was a rich agricultural area. The buildings were staunch and except for the battle scars in good shape. The property now belonged to Duke William. It would be asinine to destroy your own assets. A small force would be left to supervise the repairs to the buildings by the Bonnetablers and prevent the Maine forces from recapturing the estates.

Count Roald would be given a choice. He could be imprisoned in the dungeon of his own castle; he could denounce Walter of Vexin and swear allegiance to Normandy; he could meet the axeman at the block. His forces would follow his lead.

Healers were busy with the wounded and maimed. Emptied supply wagons and tumbrels from Bonnetable were loaded with injured for shipment back to Normandy. The wagons would be reloaded

with supplies at the Alencon camp to sustain the army.

Count Roger pressed for and got two days of rest for the army. They would revitalize—good food and good rest.

Bishop Odo lobbied for an attack at Le Mans. The Maine army was encamped there. They had fortified the town. “Strike at the heart,” was his plea. William vetoed the idea. “I will take vengeance on Mayenne. Geoffrey de Mayenne will be one sorry traitor.”

“Don’t let personal feelings cloud your judgment, Brother. We are forty miles from Le Mans and sixty miles from Mayenne.”

“Bishop, I have decided. We will attack Mayenne.”

Meanwhile, Thomas searched out his brother William. William had a job to do even it they were having rest and relaxation for two days. He had a team of horses to tend as well as his own mount. He had to recover what had become his ladders. They had not all escaped damage and repairs by the boys or the travelling workshop had to be made. Both Trivetts were still pages and had to serve their knights. Thomas was free more than Will and helped his brother.

Obviously, few were actually at rest. Cooks never stopped, medical teams had much to do, archers replenished arrows and infantry honed blades. Nonetheless, they slept! The sleep of the innocent? No one was sure. The two days were all too short.

Count Roald and his remaining forces chose to change their allegiance and ride with the Normans. Imprisonment and death were not acceptable alternatives.

On the third day the Normans took up their beds and walked. They started north. Spies from Le Mans had much to report. “The Normans are going home!” The startling news elated the Le Mans defenses. “The Norman cowards have been beaten by the castle of Bonnetable.” After ten miles, the invaders made a ninety degree turn to the west. A second message had to be dispatched. Guessing was rife in the Maine camp except for Geoffrey de Mayenne. “There is no doubt William the Bastard is making for my estates. If he does nothing else he will destroy what is mine. We cannot intercept him . He is fifty miles to the north and already moving. We must meet him when he turns back south to Laval.” Maine’s army could only break camp for the march west.

In three days the Normans were arrayed before Mayenne. Scouts made their reports. “A small force holds the castle. Mayenne has stripped the town of army and artisans.”

Duke William had three orders. “Burn the homes and crops. Put all to the knife, Destroy the castle.” Geoffrey de Mayenne in a matter of hours was left with devastation—a blackened landscape with chimney stele marking the cremation of the inhabitants. The castle was gutted, blackened by the intense heat. Duke William always contended. “I brook no rivals”. Thomas and William were appalled.

They didn’t understand. Roald of Bonnetable had maintained fierce resistance and killed hundreds of Normans. Mayenne had only offered token resistance. Bonnetable was left intact; Mayenne was no more. War is Hell or what the hell is war? It was a three day march to purgatory.

The Normans turned south. The returning ambulance/supply wagons were catching up. Stocks were replenished. Twenty miles would bring Maine and Normandy, Walter of Vexin Geoffrey de Mayenne and William of Normandy face to face. Scouts for both provinces watched their enemy. Dispatches arrived every quarter hour. The Mayenne and Vexin camp, yet to fight was more excited than the battle-worn Normans. The Maine camp had hoped to attack the Norman column during its march. Somewhere on the Mayenne/Laval road they could have driven a spearhead through the Norman line dividing the army and rolling up the Norman flanks. Too Bad! The Norman march west to Mayenne had a day’s advantage on the Maine march from Le Mans. Mayenne and Vexin decided to meet the Normans in the field. Maine had the selection of the battleground. The Normans must come to them. Not far from the outskirts of Laval on the top of the highest grade on the road, the Maine army set their defensive position with a clear view north for five hundred yards. Some bulwarks could be erected , but time was short. Behind any protection that could be erected, mailed Maine infantry ,armed with pikes, swords, or

both, stood with shield at hand. Behind them the archers took up positions ready to arc clout shots over their infantry at advancing Normans or rush through their own lines for Norman targets. The cavalry were held in reserve capable of lightning attacks on Norman lines or counter strikes at Norman cavalry. They waited for the Norman column.

The Norman brain trust rode together digesting scouting reports. The scouts painted a picture of an impregnable force on the top of a small mountain. The Normans would be climbing in a barren shooting field to meet an army bristling with arms. Did they need a frontal attack? Could they encircle the Mainelanders? Could they roll up the flanks? Could they employ their heavy artillery—catapults and sling?

At noon the Norman column halted. The cooks were instructed to feed the men. “Feed the men!” Everyone, Normans and Mainelanders were stunned. It was a brazen stroke to build the Norman army confidence. Maine did not break the lines. Duke William decided to await a new day. On high alert, the Norman army rested. With a vigilant ring of sentries and wandering patrols infiltrators from Maine were repelled. Patrols clashed as they met in the dark. Without the password swords slashed and arrows flew.

The Norman war council met. Sir Richard had just returned from a scouting patrol. The Duke called on him first. “ Maine has selected the height of a steep grade. It may be only a twenty foot rise overall but the last fifty yards encompasses most of the elevation. They have an unobstructed view of four hundred to five hundred yards as a killing field in front of them. They have erected some palisade east to west in front of them. Going uphill we will have small targets as less of their bodies are exposed. They are alert; we drew fire. They have artillery catapults to the rear.”

“Thank you, Richard. Roger?”

“My Lord, I would attack at dawn from the east. They will draw back their flank. Our advance, although uphill, will have the sun behind us. Brilliant sunshine in your eyes is not conducive to accurate shooting. We counter the grade with the sun’s rays.”

“Good, Roger. Robert?”

“My Lord, I watched our fire arrows do a creditable job at Mamers. What is we used our catapult with occasional tubs of burning grease? We could even fire a few rounds into the predawn black sky. Imagine troops watching burning marl delivered through the black night.”

“I’m afraid the fires would extinguish in flight, but it may be worth an experiment. If they are watching burning oil they may not be watching advancing troops. We will use regular missiles. You can try you fire idea. William, my Steward?”

“My Lord, after a catapult artillery and archers clout work, I suggest a cavalry attack launching their spears. Hard on their heels I would send in those few short -bowed horsemen to loose as many arrows as they can to disrupt the front ranks.”

“Yes. Odo?”

“My Lord, I am more in favor of a frontal assault: artillery, archers, infantry. Maintain the cavalry in reserve for a flank attack. While the infantry are engaged in the center Maine may call their cavalry to repel. It would be the perfect time to attack the flank.”

“Councillors, they are good ideas. I see some fallacy in them. I’m more inclined to agree with Odo—a frontal attack. Robert commence firing as soon as you have your machines in place. Remember burning pitch will pinpoint your catapult for enemy return fire. We will attack at dawn, Roger, and out of the rising sun. But, it won’t be our major assault. It will be more of a feint to cover our frontal attack. Be ready to send in your lancers, Roger. And William, you organize a horsed unit with bows. If the Maine army breaks to repel the lancers, the horsed bowmen should have some sitting ducks to kill. Let the battle begin!”

Councillors informed knights, knights informed sergeant, and sergeants eventually called on the men. The catapults were drawn into position under cover of darkness. All were compressed and loaded. One was loaded with a tub of oily grease. The grease was lit and the catapult fired. A stream of burning

grease streaked through the air. Anyone awake followed the arc of pyrotechniques. Burning oil fell to the ground on a direct line from catapult toward Maine’s army. Long before the tub reached the Mayenne force the tub was empty. Two soldiers agog at the flying fire failed to see the hurtling tub. Their gravestones should have read. “Rub-a-dub-dub, Rubbed out by a tub.”

“What the hell are those Normans doing? Firing over their washing?”

Mayenne was quick to respond. His own catapults were levered over to follow the burning line. Three shots were fired. Two fell short, but one—one struck the fire breathing Norman catapult. Five Normans were killed, three by the great rock and two by the smashed machine.

“Well,” Sighed Robert,” a good idea spoiled by the delivery vehicle.” He was not worried about the men because the catapult lost was a greater tragedy. The line of fire died in the dewy grass and the remaining weapons began the pounding of the Maine defensive line.

Sir Richard was assigned the feint from the east. Under cover of darkness he gathered an infantry unit, an archery unit and a cavalry unit. After pounding the eastern flank with two catapults the artillery stopped as the sun bit a hole in the horizon. The huge machines were pried, levered tail to the east. No rocks should fall on your own attackers. The bombardment now struck the center of the Maine force. Encompassed by the glare of the rising sun Richard’s archery unit arched their arrows up and over their own men. Three feathered swallows with broad killing head landed willy-nilly in the Maine troops searching out bits and pieces of men. In the arrow shower the infantry raced forward as an incoming flight of Maine arrows sought them. The slower men had to contend with arrow wounds. The Norman archers, Olan included, followed their infantry. The infantry dropped to the ground and the archers targeted the opposition soldiers. Holes appeared in the line on Maine’s eastern flank. Their archers stepped forth and gave their best into the blinding rays of the sun. They were not without results. The Norman infantry regained their feet and closed on the Maine line. With a great clash, swords and shields met. The archers were now relegated to sniping or exchanging arrows with the opposites. You couldn’t shoot into the melee of hand-to-hand combat. When it looked as if the eastern flank may collapse Mayenne and Vexin directed reinforcements. That was Richard’s admonition to retreat. His sergeant blew a whistle and the Normans disengaged in an orderly retreat. The elated Mainelanders gave chase coming off the height of land. A second whistle from the Norman sergeant followed. In rode the Norman cavalry, Crusader swords at the ready. Many carried lances. A few spears were thrown, but many were used like a lance in the lists. They simply let the horse’s speed drive the lance through the enemy. The slashing Normans were taking a toll. More reinforcements were thrown into the Maine line. A third whistle sounded. Twelve Norman horsed bowmen rode in as the cavalry retreated. Thomas and William led in the fray. It was one pass, at most two to disconcert the enemy. Arrows were released from ten feet. They rode down many of the enemy now in no-man’s land. One pass was all they could make. Maine cavalry entered the altercation and strong command restored order to the Maine line. The Normans regained their original position. The whole affair had taken thirty minutes to perpetrate mayhem.

Roger’s idea had fulfilled Duke William’s tactic. The feint had drawn a disproportionate number of men in response. The heavy artillery, two catapults and the sling were levered to fire on the flanks and the frontal assault began. Flights of arrows darkened the sky. Maine arrows went north; Norman arrows went south. The Norman cavalry charged up the grade toward the Maine lines. Mighty lance heaves were unleashed from the backs of the galloping horses. Mainelanders, Normans were impaled by arrows and spears. Before the screaming Norman infantry charged a second cavalry unit rode in the face of the enemy firing a quarrel from their crossbow on the end of their attack. Thomas William and the ten mobile archers raced laterally across the Maine front loosing arrow after arrow. There was no need to aim. There was a solid wall of men in front of them. They barely cleared the line when the bloodied foot soldiers screamed up hill. Reinforcements sent to the flank of the Maine line were hastily recalled to resist the Norman center. The Mainelanders had to prevent a breakthrough. They could bend, but not break. A

bulge developed in the Norman center. Mayenne and Vexin applied pressure at the base of the bulge. They could trap the Norman bulge. Things looked dark on a bright sunny day.

Brother Odo and Duke William had gathered the cavalry. Now was the time for the attack on the flank. This was an all or nothing move by the Normans. They charged the already battered east. The armored horsemen broke the line. The eastern line was attacked fore and aft. On seeing the hopelessness of their position they had no choice but to retreat, Retreat? Hell run! And they did.

William rode up the back of the Maine line and in the midst of the fiercest fighting he discovered the object of his search—Geoffrey de Mayenne. Mayenne was being hard pressed by two Norman knights. William waved them away. Mayenne smiled in anticipation and saluted William with his sword. William returned the favor. This was the major encounter of the battle. A circle of space developed around the combatants. They circled on horseback looking for the opening. Mayenne forced the issue. He rammed his heavier charger into William’s hi-bred Arab. The Arab, more agile than the French bred, spun out of the charge and William gained a momentary advantage. He brought down the Crusader in a blow as Shakespeare said. “Would have unseamed him from his nave to his chaps.” Geoffrey parried and lunged forward. Death looked William in the face. He would be dead except the Crusader had broken Geoffrey’s blade at the hilt. He spurred by William and caught a new blade thrown to him by a Maine knight. The combatants closed again. Both swung viscously. The blades clanged together. Someone lanced the horse from under Mayenne, but on his way down he hamstrung the Arab. Both were now afoot. Mayenne was the smaller of the two. He was nimble and quick. In a fencing match with foil or epee he would easily defeat William. With a saber he had to carry four pound and would likely tire if the duel extended for a long period. He pressed William. Lunge, riposte, thrust, William was hard-pressed to parry. William as big and as strong as he was, was obliged to retreat, retreat and retreat. Geoffrey delivered the coup de grace, but his opponent wasn’t there. Mayenne looked down to see a jewelled dagger hilt extending from his lower chest. William had neatly parried, stepped inside and planted his short sword in his enemy.

The battle now degenerated into pockets of resistance pursued by Norman invaders. The War of Maine was over.

The both armies were now involved in the clean-up. Burial details were assigned. Medical details were grossly overworked. Armor details collected weapons. Prison details accepted the defeated. Walter of Vexin rode ignominiously into Laval. Walter was undone and William of Normandy and Maine seated. Riders were sent to outlying towns, particularly Le Mans, with declarations of the end of hostilities. All counts or estate holders were invited to the formal seating of William of Normandy as Duke William of Normandy and Maine. It was a Y.B.B.T. affair. “You’d better be there!” All the invitees would swear allegiance to Duke William and receive their grants.

William fitz Osbern, the Norman steward, was responsible for the turn over of command. Economics, agricultural, judicial, financial, legal all fell on him. “Thank goodness,” fitz Osbern thought, “Maine civil servants are efficient and too bad they are such liars.” He approached the Duke. “My Lord, the only way we can get a true picture of Maine is to send out clerks who can perform a census. We need to know what we hold. We need acreage, human population, livestock totals, stores, crops, and businesses. We cannot hope to set taxes or predict revenue without such information”.

“Good idea, William. Do it!”

Duke William had problems to contend with too. He needed a small but efficient army of occupation to put out any political fires or put down any revolt. The major portion of the Norman army should be sent home for the harvest and to reduce Norman costs. The Duke’s physical presence was a necessity. As a towering figure he could command respect. He had to inspire [or threaten] the Mainelanders. He seized absolute control. Walter of Vexin was still in the dungeon. There was a suggestion of ransom, but accused of treason, Walter had to die, preferably before William was seated. Walter lost his head figuratively in considering the seat of Hubert of Maine and now he lost it literally by treasonously accepting the ducal state.

Before the duties of state piled up on Duke William, Sir Richard requested a promotion for his

page Thomas Trivett and Thomas’ brother William. He recited the boy’s exploits in the cause of Normandy. The Duke was pleased. He called the boys in and informed them that henceforth they would be Squire Thomas Trivett and Squire William Trivett and settled a small annual sum on them. Squire William was retained as a clerk for William fitz Osbern and Squire Thomas was sent home to assist with the harvest at Trivett vineyard.