Page 72 of Summer Warrior

CHAPTER 17

Carlisle, Scotland, 25 August 1138 A.D.

SOMERLED FOLLOWED DAVID as he led the remains of his army to Carlisle, his expression gloomy, his words few. The sky above mirrored the king’s mood, gray and cloud-filled, but Somerled was grateful they’d had no rain. The weary battle march back to Carlisle would have been worse if their paths had been muddy quagmires.

David’s spies had brought word on the first night that they were not being followed, which surprised them all. With that good news, the men looked only forward as they marched back to Scotland and not over their shoulders.

Arriving in Carlisle, David let loose his fury as he addressed his men, who he considered responsible for so many deaths. After a scathing rebuke, he exacted an oath from the survivors that they would never again desert him in war.

Embarrassed, and mayhap shamed by their actions and too hasty retreat, the army fell into fighting amongst themselves, Scot attacking Saxon, Norman attacking Norman and the Galwegians angry at all for the loss of so many warriors, including their chiefs.

Somerled’s army of Highlanders and Islesmen did not share in the self-flagellation of David’s men. They had listened to their chiefs and to Somerled and were happy to be alive and headed home. A few of his men had taken English arrows but his healers had been tending them from the first night they made camp. Somerled gave thanks when he was told all would live. For himself, he was just glad to be able to return to his son and the woman he loved.

With the stone keep of Carlisle Castle rising above them, Somerled walked with his brother among their warriors camped on the banks of the River Eden. “I did not think ’twas possible,” said Angus, “for us to return unscathed.”

“Nor did I,” replied Somerled, “but then it never occurred to me most of my men and I would never enter the battle. Only the cowardice of David’s soldiers put the army in retreat, delivering us.”

Somerled had been with King David twice since they arrived at Carlisle and each time he appeared haggard and worried. The cause was not difficult to discern. They had yet to hear from Prince Henry and Somerled knew the king feared his heir was dead. As a father, Somerled felt for the king who loved his son.

The next day, Somerled had gone to see King David to seek his approval for their departure, when a great clamor arose outside in the bailey. He and the king went to the nearest window and looked down. There, sitting atop his horse with a dozen mounted knights behind him, was Prince Henry.

“Thank God!” exclaimed David and rushed down to the keep’s entrance where Henry and his knights were dismounting. Somerled followed for he wanted to hear how Henry escaped.

Embracing his son, the king pulled back to look into Henry’s face. “You are well? You are whole?”

“Aye, Father. But the losses—”

“I know, my son. Too many. But God bless you. How did you survive so many English knights?”

By this time, a crowd had gathered, murmuring in amazement that Henry was here, for all were anxious to learn what had happened.

“Once we broke through their lines, we pursued their knights who had been taken to the rear of the English lines. Soon, we were surrounded by the enemy. Many of our knights and their horses fell to Norman blades. Some were taken prisoner and must be ransomed. When I saw our army withdrawing, I told my men to throw down their banners and follow the English Normans that turned to pursue you. We looked like the Normans in our mail and helms. In the confusion, none suspected we were Scots.”

“God has answered my prayers,” said the king. “Tonight, we will celebrate your return.”

That night, there was feasting and revelry in Carlisle and the king smiled as he entertained his nobles, notwithstanding the great losses of the battle. It was the first time Somerled had seen the king happy since they had left the battlefield. Perhaps it was just relief, for he had only the one heir and Prince Henry was much loved.

As the evening drew to a close, Somerled rose, thinking to find his companions and seek his tent. To David, he said, “With your permission, Your Grace, I would take my Highlanders and my Islesmen home on the morrow.”

“Aye,” said David. “You have done what you could. I would ask no more. Godspeed to you.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. If I might ask, where do you go from here?”

King David stared straight ahead, a slight smile on his face. “I will take what is left of my army and go north to Wark on the Tweed. I’ve a mind to raze Walter l’Espec’s castle to the ground as I failed to do earlier. It will give my men something to look forward to instead of this constant bickering amongst themselves. And then I must turn my attention to negotiating terms of peace with Stephen.” Shifting his gaze to his son, who was drinking with his knights, David added, “I will not allow Stephen to keep Northumberland, which is properly Henry’s. I may not have won the battle but I will yet have my way in this.”

Somerled bowed as he took his leave, never doubting that David would salvage a great deal out of his defeat.

A short while later, Somerled stepped onto the deck of his galley and experienced a rush of relief. Angus, too, must have felt the same for he greeted Somerled, saying, “’Tis good to be leaving, aye?”

“Indeed, it is, Brother.” Somerled waited until his men were assembled on the banks of the River Eden or standing on the decks of their galleys and longships, and then he began to speak.

“Brave men of Argyll and the Isles!” he shouted to the more than one thousand men arrayed before him. Their conversations ceased as they looked up. “You have proven your courage and your loyalty in coming to my call. For that, I am grateful. And I thank the Almighty for answering my prayers, for you live to make old bones. Your chiefs are bold men; you can be proud of them. I look forward to their helping me build castles that will forever guard the sea lanes and a fleet of galleys to keep the Norse from our shores.”

“Aye, Somerled, we are with you!” cried one chief.

Shouts of “Somerled! Somerled!” followed, their voices echoing off the river bank and the walls of the castle rising above it.

“Godspeed!” Somerled yelled back. His eyes misted over. He loved every one of them.