Adventure of Robert de Fiennes 1

The priory yard tightens around a mud-stained English herald brought from the eastern boundary. He is a middle-aged man of lean build, pale-faced beneath wet brown hair, wearing a torn white tabard marked with England’s arms; two French survivors hold his arms.

Robert’s company remains gathered beneath the orchard trees. Étienne Vaucelles, a young adult man with a lean build, olive skin, short dark hair, and a dark green cloak over a russet tunic, stands near him, while the blue-surcoated rider keeps the survivors formed and the young scout, a slight young adult man with freckled cheeks, brown hair beneath a russet cap, and a brown wool tunic, watches the gate; the horses stay secured beyond the hedges.

A wax seal, cracked but recognizable, hangs from the folded parchment. Mud covers the herald’s boots to the knee, and a fresh scrape marks his cheek where the guards seized him.

Robert steps to the herald, takes the folded parchment from his hands, and breaks the cracked wax seal. The French guards, two adult men in mud-stained gambesons, one broad-faced and bearded and the other lean with a narrow clean-shaven face, release it without resisting.

He scoffs and unfolds the writ beneath the gray morning light. The herald watches his face while damp parchment crackles between Robert’s gloved fingers.

Robert points to the blue-surcoated rider without lifting his eyes from the writ. The gesture makes his command plain to the English herald and the gathered survivors.

A murmur passes through the survivors. The English herald has answered plainly, but Robert’s authority is no longer concealed, and the English now possess his position within the company.

Robert studies the priory above the yard. Its stout stone walls, narrow upper windows, and single gate offer real cover; the enclosed courtyard would deny mounted men their advantage, though the gate remains the vulnerable point.

The inspection has taken several precious moments, leaving the English herald’s warning hanging over the yard. Robert now knows the priory can be defended, but not whether its gate and inhabitants will hold under pressure.

Robert directs the men through the priory gate. The blue-surcoated rider leads the horses after them, while injured survivors and refugees gather near the eastern wall, ready to depart.

The order moves through the yard, but no dispatch appears among the saddlebags, writs, or survivors’ bundles. The English herald’s sealed parchment remains the only document present.

The injured men and refugees remain within the priory instead of leaving. Horses crowd the yard, and the defenders look to Robert, their planned message to distant French forces now impossible.

Robert has secured the company behind stone, but the failed dispatch leaves no envoy on the roads. The gathered survivors wait in uneasy silence for his promised address.

Robert places his gauntleted hand upon the blue-surcoated rider’s shoulder. The rider meets his gaze as the refugees draw nearer, listening for the decision that will send them beyond the priory.

Robert takes parchment from a priory chest, writes the company’s need and destination, then presses his signet into softened wax. The sealed letter gives the rider both proof and authority.

The blue-surcoated rider receives the sealed letter and gathers the refugees beneath the eastern wall. Inside the stone priory, Robert’s remaining men take their positions, ready to hold the gate when the English arrive.

Robert turns fully toward the English herald, his voice carrying across the priory yard. The sealed French letter remains with the blue-surcoated rider beneath the eastern wall.

The herald’s words sharpen the gathered men’s attention. His answer gives Robert’s name and defiance to the English captain, but leaves no uncertainty about the decision.

The French guards escort the herald toward the gate. He keeps his torn tabard visible, carrying Robert’s refusal back to Henry while the priory’s defenders close ranks behind stone.

Robert turns from the departing herald to the blue-surcoated rider. His words carry across the yard, and the men hear both command and trust in them.

The rider bows, then gathers the refugees and injured survivors beneath the eastern wall. The sealed letter rests inside his cloak, protected against the damp.

The gate opens. The blue-surcoated rider leads the refugees and their guarded horses out toward the eastern road, while Robert’s defenders close ranks inside the priory.

Robert watches until the blue-surcoated rider, the refugees, and their horses vanish along the eastern road. He turns back to the men assembled beneath the priory bell tower.

The yard falls silent. Men glance toward the open eastern road, then at the priory walls and one another, measuring fear against the dignity of choosing their own stand.

A wounded survivor, a young adult man with a lean build, light skin, and short dark hair, wearing a mud-stained brown tunic and trousers tightens his grip on a spear. One man, a middle-aged man with a stocky build, weathered skin, and a graying beard, wearing a faded green tunic beneath a brown wool coat steps toward the gate, then stops; another, a young adult man with a slim build, fair skin, and tousled blond hair, wearing a dark blue padded jacket and brown trousers joins him, and soon the soldiers are securing weapons and taking positions along the stone walls.

Robert’s hand drops to his empty sword belt. No blade answers his grasp; the missing sword turns his rally into a visible hesitation as the men watch him beneath the bell tower.

The gathered soldiers still seize spears, bills, and bows, forming along the priory walls. Their movement is orderly, but several faces turn toward Robert, waiting for steadier direction.

Beside the gate, Robert’s poleaxe lies within reach among the gathered arms. Beyond the walls, distant hoofbeats stir the morning, but no Englishman yet appears.

The failed flourish leaves no doubt about the missing sword, yet it reveals a usable choice: Robert can take the poleaxe and command from the vulnerable gate before the riders arrive.

Robert takes the poleaxe from beside the gate and steps to the head of the forming ranks. Its ash haft settles firmly in his hands as the defenders close behind him.

Spearmen and billmen arrange themselves in ordered files behind the gate, points angled outward. Along the walls, bows are unstrung and readied, while crossbowmen climb toward the narrow windows.

The priory changes from a gathering of frightened survivors into a defended position. Men test their footing, archers peer through the openings, and the gate defenders wait beneath the bell tower.

Robert’s command rises beneath the bell tower. Several archers loose at once, but others hesitate, watching for a clearer target through the narrow openings.

The first arrows fall short of the eastern approach, striking mud and stone before the English riders come within effective range. The uneven volley exposes the defenders’ reach.

The archers check themselves and regain order. Beyond the drifting dust, a mounted standard briefly shows between the bare trees, marking the English captain’s position.

The failed volley leaves the priory warned but not spent. Bows lower, crossbows settle against the windowsills, and every defender now knows where the enemy line must pass.

Robert’s order cuts through the yard. Defenders drag timber beams into place, brace the gate with carts, and stack stones and spare doors against the lesser entrances.

Men secure the main gate with two heavy beams, wedge the chapel door, and place armed sentries at the narrow windows and eastern wall stairs. Every entrance is covered.

For a brief instant, Robert’s voice falters after the command. The hesitation is visible, and several defenders glance toward him before returning to their work.

Beyond the walls, English standards shift between the trees. Inside, the French ranks settle behind their barricades, weapons ready and every entrance secured.

Robert sighs and looks up at the manned walls. Bows rest along the parapets, crossbows watch the eastern approach, and the barred gate stands firm beneath its beams.

Within the yard, defenders settle into their places. Some kneel behind the gate, others keep watch from the narrow windows, and the priory’s bell hangs silent overhead.

Beyond the stone walls, distant standards remain among the bare trees. No order comes from the English, and no Frenchman breaks formation. The waiting stretches beneath the gray morning sky.

Robert removes his bascinet and passes beneath the bell tower toward the wall stairs. The defenders make room as he climbs, carrying the poleaxe in one hand.

From the parapet, he surveys the eastern approach clearly. Thirty English riders wait beyond the bare trees, their horses held in ordered ranks beneath several standards.

More figures emerge along the road behind them: mounted men followed by foot soldiers and supply carts. The English have not begun their advance, but their force is gathering.

The nearest standard stands left of the road, where the ground rises gently toward the orchard. The English captain has kept his main body beyond bowshot and leaves no exposed flank.

Robert directs the defenders toward the priory’s stores and ruined sheds. Men gather rounded fieldstones, broken roof tiles, spare bricks, and heavy timber pieces beneath the parapet.

The stocky survivor organizes the work while Étienne searches the chapel yard. Stones are piled beside the wall stairs, and roof tiles are stacked near the eastern parapet.

Defenders carry the supplies upward in steady loads. They place the smaller stones along the crenellations, while heavier fragments rest behind the gatehouse wall for safer handling.

From the parapet, Robert sees the gathered ammunition distributed across the eastern wall and gatehouse. Below, the English standards remain beyond bowshot as carts continue forming their siege line.

Robert remains silent upon the parapet, studying standards, carts, and the measured movement of English men beneath the gray morning light.

Distance and bare branches confuse the arrangement. A cart appears to mark the eastern flank, then shifts behind another, while foot soldiers vanish among the supply train.

Robert tracks one banner until a rising fold of ground hides it. When he finds it again, the English line has stretched farther toward the orchard than he first judged.

The ditch runs beside the wall beneath the parapet, partly masked by winter grass. It would slow an approach, yet also gives attackers cover from the lower windows.

Robert raises the visor of his bascinet. Cold morning air reaches his face, carrying the damp scent of stone, winter grass, and distant fires.

With his face uncovered, Robert studies the eastern approach more clearly. Bare branches frame the carts, standards, and scattered ranks below.

Robert keeps one hand upon the poleaxe while the other rests against the parapet. Around him, defenders remain at their posts, stones and tiles ready.

At last, the English first ranks advance from the rising ground. Men carry ladders toward the eastern wall while longbowmen spread behind them, seeking positions beyond the defenders’ reach.

Robert’s warning cuts across the parapet. He identifies the assault’s direction and the longbowmen’s supporting line, though the moving carts and bare branches still conceal how many archers follow.

The defenders seize their places. Bowstrings tighten, crossbows rise in the windows, and men shoulder baskets of stones as the English ladders descend toward the ditch.

Robert keeps the advancing ranks in sight, but the shifting carts deny him a reliable count of the supporting force. The warning has come in time, and every post now faces the attack.

Robert closes his bascinet visor and points the poleaxe toward the higher ground. The order carries along the eastern wall, but the first bowstrings are already drawn.

French arrows and bolts rise unevenly. Several fall short into the ditch, while the English longbowmen answer at once, driving shafts against the parapet and forcing defenders below its edge.

The ladders reach the ditch under that cover. Their bearers crouch behind the bank, and the supporting archers gain firmer positions before the French can silence them.

Robert’s command steadies the wavering line. The archers shelter behind the parapet, choosing the longbowmen on the rise, while crossbowmen aim at those guarding the ladders.

The second volley strikes with greater purpose. English bowmen duck and scatter from the higher ground, and several ladder bearers lose their covering fire before reaching the wall.

For one breath Robert’s voice fails as the returning shafts rattle against stone. The hesitation shows, and the nearest defenders glance toward him before resuming their aim.

French bowstrings and crossbows continue their measured fire. The English archers remain driven low, leaving the ladders exposed beneath the eastern wall.

Robert calls down from the parapet, but the infantry answer unevenly. The rattle of shafts and shouted orders breaks his command apart before it reaches every man.

Several infantrymen edge toward the eastern wall, leaving the center of the courtyard less ordered. Their movement exposes a narrow approach beneath the gatehouse, but places more eyes above the ditch.

Robert’s call fails to steady the whole courtyard, yet the disorder reveals a usable route. The gatehouse stairs offer covered access to the threatened wall, while the infantry’s new position improves their view of the ladder tops.

Robert runs along the parapet as shafts strike stone around him. He reaches the nearest raised ladder, where its upper ring hooks over the wall’s edge.

He catches the ring with the poleaxe’s hooked head and drives the ash haft outward. The ladder shudders, its bearers losing their purchase below.

Robert levers again with his full strength. The ladder tears free from the parapet and tips outward, carrying its climbers back toward the ditch as defenders recoil from the edge.

The ladder crashes down beyond the wall, scattering the assault beneath it. No climber reaches the parapet, and the eastern defenders gain a brief clear view of the exposed approach.

The nearby infantry recover their formation around Robert. Archers turn toward another ladder in the ditch, while stones are lifted to the parapet and the English supporting fire resumes.

Robert rushes along the parapet toward the next ladder. French archers and crossbowmen redirect their aim, sending a concentrated volley toward the exposed climbers and their supports.

Robert reaches the ladder as its upper rungs scrape over the stone. He hooks the poleaxe beneath the side rail, plants his feet, and heaves outward with all his strength.

The ladder tears free and falls back toward the ditch, leaving its climbers scattered below the wall. A second ladder loses its covering support under the French volley and collapses away from the parapet.

The eastern defenders surge into a steadier rhythm. Archers maintain fire on the remaining approach, while Robert stands over the cleared parapet with his poleaxe ready for the next assault.

The infantry in the courtyard answer at once. Men seize bills and spears from the gathered arms, then climb the gatehouse stairs under cover of the stonework.

The men reach the eastern parapet and spread along the threatened section. Their long shafts extend over the stone, ready to catch ladder rails before climbers can gain the rungs.

Another ladder rises from the ditch. Three bills hook its side rails together, and the defenders heave outward, sending it back from the wall while stones strike the ground below.

Robert’s order has formed a working defense: polearms guard the parapet, archers cover the ditch, and the remaining ladders face a coordinated resistance.

More ladders rise in rapid succession from the ditch, their bearers driving forward beneath renewed English bowfire. The eastern parapet fills with shouted warnings and clashing wood.

Robert plants himself at the parapet and directs the defense with the poleaxe. Bills hook the nearest ladder, while spears brace against a second reaching the wall.

Robert shifts the polearms toward the faster assault. The defenders pull one ladder outward, then shove another aside with coordinated force as arrows rattle against the stone.

A third ladder touches the parapet, but two bills seize its rails before the first climber can crest the wall. Stones drop into the ditch, breaking the assault’s momentum.

Robert looks down the eastern wall. The English assault has lost its force: ladders lie cast aside, bearers withdraw toward the ditch, and scattered bowmen keep low beneath the rise.

Along the parapet, French defenders keep their polearms extended while archers watch the retreating ranks. Stones remain ready, but no fresh ladder reaches the wall.

The stocky survivor signals from the gatehouse stairs. Below, men restore their positions and gather the scattered stones, while the English standards hold beyond effective range.

The defenders’ confidence settles into disciplined silence. Robert can see the immediate assault has failed, leaving the priory secure for the moment beneath the gray morning sky.