Dividing an army in two and beginning a march was never as fast as I wanted, but by midmorning we had separated our army turning west. By noon the next day we were crossing Bolton Fell where a drove of cattle heading south scattered and fled at the sight of us. The drovers would carry word of our presence, but you did not move an army of eight thousand without being noticed.
From the summit of Banks Fell, we looked across the Vale of Irthing, fat and prosperous, waiting for the plucking. Herds of cattle and flocks of sheep grazed in green pastures between patches of golden ripe wheat and barley ready for the harvest. In the middle was the walled town of Gilsland about twenty miles from Carlisle.
“This is ripe for looting,” I said, “and if Percy is anywhere near we want to make it easy for him to find us.”
Fife nodded. “We may as well help ourselves. And our men expect some plunder for their trouble.”
By the time we moved into position and charged into the vale, the people, terror-stricken at the sight of thousands of Scots, were in full flight. There was neither profit nor glory in killing them, so we let them flee before us. It was soon a frenzied nightmare but no opposition to speak of. Somewhere a woman who had not fled shrieked, but I could not tell from where. There was nothing I could do about that though it made me grind my teeth. I set a few hundred men to catching and killing the cattle to feed the camp. In an ever-widening circle, the devastation spread beneath a pall of smoke above burning homes, trampled fields, and ruined orchards.
I doubted that the smoke would be seen as far away as Carlisle, but by tomorrow refugees would reach there. If Henry Percy and his brother were anywhere near, we had sent up a signal. Fife and James combined their scouts with those of Domhnall and were sent in every direction. We would not be surprised by a counterattack. As the sunset, the three of us once more surveyed the Vale. If we needed to fight, where would give us the best advantage? This was a decent place for it, the ground mostly unbroken, with no barriers to prevent our charging English archers if Percy had any with him.
We ordered horns blown for recall, but gathering our men back into camp took until well after dark. By morning, our smoke-blackened army was once more formed into columns. It was another sunny day, perfect fighting weather, though we were already sweating like lathered horses in our armor. Fife, James, and I were debating whether to burn the suburbs of Carlisle, only a few hours march from our camp, or go east to attack Haltwhistle when we were interrupted by Gil who gave a shout. Two of our scouts were galloping back.
“A company approaching, my lords,” one of them called out. “About three miles to the northeast. Mounted and wearing armor.”
“How many?” Fife yelled.
“A few hundred at least.”
We looked at each other puzzled. It was too few to be Percy’s army but too large for a scouting party.
Fife scratched the back of his neck. “Dalkeith, take some men and find out who they are.”
It was a large enough party to delay a decision until we learned who they were. It was no more than a quarter-hour when we were able to see that James had had no difficulty with the newcomers. He was riding back with a large party of well-equipped and mounted knights and men-at-arms and above them fluttered my own banner.
“Willie!” I shouted and kneed my horse to a trot.
We met at the summit of the Fell. I jumped down from my horse the same time he did and strode to hug him and pound him on the back.
“Willie, lad—here’s a surprise!” I stepped back and examined his face. “How did you come to be here and to find us?”
He was laughing, head thrown back. “What an adventure we had. I must tell you about it. But you were easy to find with the smoke filling the sky.” He looked past me at Fife. “And my good-brother. A fair sight! I hope I am in time for the fighting.”
“No fighting to speak of so far, though we have had nae word from Douglas and Moray. They went to the east toward Durham.” I shook Willie’s shoulder and my head. “Now, tell us how you came to be here.”
The others joined us and Willie made a good story of it, how he had sailed into Carlingford Lough, landing outside Carlington town. He summoned their leaders. How the chief of the townsfolk offered him a hundred English pounds and their word not to send a warning to Dundalk if Willie gave them a two-day temporary truce. Well, he agreed to it and made camp while he sent out scouts. Secretly, the townsfolk sent off to Dundalk for reinforcements. Dundalk was happy to oblige and sent eight hundred spearmen, thinking to surprise them by night, and were supported by a sortie from Carlingford town.
“We were nae asleep for our scouts had spotted them coming. So we turned their sneak attack on them, killed some and drove off the rest and burnt Carlingford for their treachery, seized the castle and captured fifteen ships in the harbor.” Beaming, he concluded, “On the way home, I stopped at the Isle of Man and burnt what I couldnae take, then when I got home, I came looking for you.” He laughed. “If there is fighting to be had, I should have a share of it.”
James raised an eyebrow at me. Willie sounded easily as hotheaded as the Earl of Douglas, but he had made a fine success of the task I had set him to.
“What say you, my lord?” I turned to Fife. “I tire already of firing farms and slaughtering cattle. What say we burn Carlisle’s suburbs and see if any care to come out and fight?”
We quickly agreed, Willie eager to see if he could find more fights as he had the last time we lay siege to the place. Thomas Clifford was no gladder to see us this time than he was the last. We spent the next day dividing our army to block all the gates whilst the people of the suburbs we had burnt just a year ago fled to safety within the walls. However, this time, the defenders did not seem eager to cross swords.
Fife was pacing outside his tent, his face drawn up in a scowl. “We should have some sign of Percy if he is anywhere near.”
“No messages from Douglas and Moray?” Willie asked.
“Not so far. We could send a few men seeking them, but they hadnae decided whether to attack Durham or Newcastle.” I grimaced. “Or they could have gone toward Alnwick, so our men would be just wandering unless they happened to spot smoke.”
“As I did.” Willie wiggled his eyebrows. “It might be worth sending scouts to find them. Domhnall could do it.”
“If they had a battle, they would have sent word,” James pointed out.
Fife agreed, since we had already fired Carlisle suburbs, that the next day we would send scouts to find our other army. Laying siege to Carlisle had never been part of our plans. But that proved unnecessary.
Domhnall and his men brought in an armed party led by Walter Stewart, who had stayed behind with the Douglas, thinking he was the more adventurous.
Walter threw himself from the horse and ran to his brother, panting and struggling to get his words out. I had stayed from mounting and walked toward him. This did not look like good news.
Fife scowled at him. “Out with it! What has happened?”
“A battle! It started braw. Douglas jousted with Henry Hotspur and won! Took Hotspur’s pennant and bragged he would take it back to Scotland with us!” His face twisted, and his eyes were red as though he had wept. “But they wouldnae come to a fight, so we laid siege to Otterburn Castle. We camped in the woods there.” He paused, wiped the sweat from his face and took a deep breath. “So Percy made a sneak attack. Just at sunset but they bumbled right into some scouts, so we had warning. We formed up and counterattacked. But we were in the woods. It got dark—”
“Enough!” Fife barked. “Did Douglas lose the battle?”
From Walter’s mien, Douglas must have lost, and I was desperately wondering how far behind Walter Percy’s army might be.
“No!” He almost choked on the word. “We drove them back, killing hundreds. Took prisoners, scores of them. Took Hotspur prisoner! But… but…”
“Stop blubbering, Walter,” Fife shouted. “What is wrong with you?”
“He died.” Walter’s voice broke. “Douglas was dead when the battle was over. I dinnae ken who killt him. It could have been Hotspur, but he didnae say so. But they… they are carrying his body home now. Only a few of us died. Maybe a few score, but we killed plenty of English.” His face crumpled. “But it doesnae make up for their killing the Douglas.”
Fife put his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “Damn it to hell!” He looked around for something to throw, but I was standing there with my mouth open.
“The Earl of Douglas…” Willie looked at me. “If he is dead…who will be earl now? He has… had no children.”
Fife turned to stare at me. “You cannae inherit.”
“Can I not? His only brothers, like me, are bastards.” They were well-born bastards, his fathers’ with the Countess of Angus, Margaret Stewart, but bastards, nonetheless. I was named in the entail of 1342 as one of the heirs, signed by William Douglas, my cousin and the first earl. If male heirs of the legitimate line should fail… I shook my head. That they were all dead was beyond belief. My throat closed up. I had never wished them dead, never even considered that the entail could mean that I might inherit. I had valued it because it was in writing, signed by my cousins and approved by the king, saying for all to see that I was indeed the son of my father. I paced back and forth, trying to take in what Walter had said. Could it be true? “We must lift the siege. If Hotspur’s army is defeated and him captured, there is nothing more for us to do here.”
This would be a fight for the Douglas heritage—the largest inheritance and most powerful title in all of Scotland. And no heirs of the earl’s body...
“Aye, home indeed. And I must call a parliament.” Fife rubbed his forehead and then shook his head. “At Edinburgh Castle.”
“Willie and I must lead our army home first, but then I will attend.” I wondered if some would object to the Lieutenant of the Realm calling a parliament because, usually, only the king could do so. Very possibly, but for now, Fife spoke for the king.