Page 71 of Summer Warrior

Somerled wondered why they had done so. Was it for fear the horses would be panicked in the face of the fierce Galwegians? For certes, the roar of the Scots army would have struck fear in the hearts of the Norman knights as they peered into the fog. Or did d’Aumale wish to prevent his knights from a hasty retreat? Whatever the reason, they were now on foot behind the English archers and clustered tightly around the standard.

Behind Somerled, David dismounted and ordered his horse and those belonging to his guards sent to the rear of the Scots lines.

Before the battle began, two Norman knights in silvered helms and mail came to the Scottish lines, bearing a white flag.

King David came forward to hear what the Normans had to say.

The Normans’ stated purpose was to parlay a peace. It was all so civilized. Somerled knew it was the custom of war but he could not imagine trying with the Norse pirates he and his men fought. The pirates would only laugh.

He strode to where Prince Henry sat atop his horse with his mounted knights. “Who are they?”

Never taking his eyes from the two, Henry said, “Robert Bruce, Earl of Annandale, and Bernard de Baliol, a baron. Both are Norman nobles who hold estates in both England and Scotland.”

“On behalf of King Stephen,” said Bruce, “we offer you a grant of the earldom of Northumberland in favor of Prince Henry if you give your word to take your army back to Scotland.”

King David frowned his displeasure. “Northumberland is my son’s inheritance; it is his as a matter of right. Yet there is more I would have. Stephen stole a crown from my niece, the Empress Maud. We want it back.”

“You know we cannot give you that,” said Baliol.

With bitter words, the two Normans renounced their allegiance to the Scottish Crown they had earlier given and, without another word, turned to go.

David’s warlike nephew, William MacDonoquhy, still flushed with pride from his victory at Clitheroe, shouted to Bruce’s back, “You are a false traitor, Bruce!”

An aged Norman warrior, who Somerled was told was Walter l’Espec, appeared in front of the English army and delivered a speech, at the end of which he said to the commander, “I pledge my troth to conquer or to die!”

One of the English clerics said in a booming voice, “Illustrious chiefs of England, by blood and race Normans, before whom France trembles, here are the Scots, who fear you, undertaking to drive you from your own estates!”

The English, Normans and peasants kneeled while the priests gave them absolution, telling them that were they to make the ultimate sacrifice, their sins would be forgiven in the afterlife.

Somerled shook his head at so grand a promise made by mere mortal men. To Somerled, the strategy behind the spectacle was clear: men would fight for family and country but they would fight even harder if they believed that their deaths would assure entrance to Heaven.

The priests’ words were followed by a loud chorus of “Amen!” and the English quickly stood.

As if David’s forces had been waiting for this spectacle to finish, the Scots king gave the command to attack and the battle began. A sudden rush and cries of “Albion!” rose in the air as thousands of fierce Galwegians, daggers and spears to hand, charged toward the English army and their Norman knights.

Somerled cringed at what happened next for it could have been foreseen. The air resounded with the hiss of arrows as the English archers fired. The Galwegians blocked the arrows with their shields and continued to run toward the Normans, screaming like the wild men they were. The Norman knights, clinging to their standard, did not move.

When the arrows did not stop the mad rush of the Galwegians, the English archers began shooting at the lower extremities of the howling men. With moans and grunts, the first ranks fell under this fire but the Galwegians behind them leaped over their fallen comrades and rushed toward the English who could not fire their arrows fast enough.

Ulric and Donald in the fore of the rush had fallen yet the men of Galloway rallied without them and kept up the attack. Some got through to break the line of English archers. Yet, for many Galwegians, if they survived the arrows, they were slashed to pieces when they reached the firm-standing Norman knights.

The Galwegians might have been prideful and foolhardy but Somerled gave them credit for courage.

As the other lines closed up, Somerled and his men drew closer behind Prince Henry and his mounted knights and the Saxon archers. Henry lowered his lance and shouted, “Attack!” The knights charged as one toward the English, breaking through their ranks as if they had been spiders’ webs. So deep did Henry’s knights penetrate, they dispersed the English knights that had been taken to the rear.

Somerled saw his chance. When the Saxon archers with Henry began to run toward the opening the prince had created, Somerled blew once on his horn, sounded his war cry and ordered his archers forward but with this caveat: “Two men’s shields to cover one archer!”

The ploy worked. The arrows of his archers made it through with only a few of his men hit while the Saxon archers, who were exposed, fell in great numbers.

The English were quick to close up the rent in their lines created by Henry’s charge.

Somerled blew twice on his horn, ordering his archers back. Except for covering the archers, neither his Highlanders nor the Lothian Scots had yet to fully engage. Somerled was loath to send them into the middle of the battle, which had devolved into a confused mass of men, bloodied from swords and spears. Except for a miracle, any man falling into the writhing mass of bodies was destined to die.

David ordered the armored Scots forward only to have them fall on the blades of Norman knights who rammed their weapons through the Scots armor at the shoulder joint.

Somerled watched as the Galwegians began another foray. The English, pushed in from all sides around their standard, were having difficulty staying upright. However, one English soldier, more clever than the rest, suddenly elevated a human head on his spear, shouting, “Behold the head of the King of Scots!”

Of course, ’twas not David, for he and his guard were behind Somerled and his men but the ruse spread through the ranks of the Scots with great effect.

The Galwegians, disheartened, began to flee, falling back on the Lothian Scots. When it was clear the men of Galloway would not charge again, the Lothian Scots abandoned the field.

Somerled shouted to them that the king lived but, in the noise and confusion, none heard. He raised his horn, about to order his men into the fray, when King David shouted, “Stand your ground!”

Somerled turned back to see a look of anguish on the king’s face. David was shouting, trying to rally his men and dispel the myth of his death but so great was the tumult, he could not be heard. His guards, crying of their concern for the king’s safety, brought forward David’s horse and urged him to mount.

Bareheaded, David rode among the ranks of his army, continuing to try and stir his soldiers but to no avail.

Compelled to retire from the field, David assumed command of his cavalry and covered the retreat.

Somerled gave three blasts on his horn for “Retreat” and followed King David, ordering his men to protect the king’s back.

The Scots were in full retreat.

The battle had been intense but lasted only a few hours. By the time the mist cleared, the sun shone down on the bodies of fallen Galwegians, Scots, Saxons and Normans, lying bloody on the grassy field. Somerled, relieved his own men lived, thanked God there had not been more deaths.