Let Us Have Peace

[Barry Goldwater]

Arundel's Host of Peace™:

Combined royal & Arundel levies:
59 knights
88 serjeants
136 fyrd
161 English footmen (base 136, +25 from Armed Peasants for Oxford's five provinces)
161 English archers (base 136, +25 from Armed Peasants for Oxford's five provinces)
88 hobelars

Arundel retinue:
25 knights
75 serjeants

Mercenary reinforcement:

Detachment A:
47 knights
71 Breton light cav

Detachment B:
50 knights
74 Breton light cav

--------------

Total strength:
Aubrey de Vere, Earl of Arundel (+3 Wealth, +2 Logistician, +1 Survival, -2 Charisma)
84 Norman Knights
97 Frankish Knights
163 Norman Serjeants
136 Fyrdmen
161 English Foot
161 English Archers
88 Hobelars
145 Breton Light Cav

[Lord William]

Richard de Clare arrives with 20 knights

[General Brewster]

Roger de Mowbray had a massive wound on the chest. Not to show weakness he declined the opportunity to wear no armor but was instead heavily bounded with cloths before his armor was but on. He could barely move but he would not show it. He at the head of a column of 25 Knights.

[Barry Goldwater]

The guards who hail Sir Mowbray do not let him pass. He and any twenty of his knights may enter, the knightly lieutenant commanding them says, but five must return home, for per his Earl's command each of the feuding lords may only bring twenty men into camp. Apparently Arundel had taken the extra pain of ensuring men who could count, no doubt his men, were the ones tasked with greeting the invitees.

[General Brewster]

Mowbray remained at the spot he was halted. He needed the five extra men and wasn't going to send them home.

[Barry Goldwater]

When the lieutenant reports back to Arundel that Mowbray was refusing to send five men home so that he might enter the camp, the earl personally rides forth to meet him. With him come three columns of knights, most Norman tenants of his or the other royal tents from around London but a few being his Frankish sellswords, numbering a hundred in all and converging on the Mowbray party from three directions, having left the camp through three exits. The royal banner flies over Aubrey's own head, signifying his status as a representative and enforcer of royal authority. Though Aubrey himself was mailed, he was pointedly unarmed and did not seem hostile, and of his knights (though all were mailed and had swords or other weapons at their sides) only a few dozen had donned helmets to give themselves a less friendly countenance - an attempt by the Earl, who admittedly was quite clumsy when it came to public relations, at striking a balance between a friendly face and intimidation.

"Sir Mowbray, I take it." Aubrey greeted, his face plain and calm. The knight who'd greeted Talbot was one of those who rode to his right, similarly helmetless and wearing a thin smile on his lips. "I do wish we'd met under different circumstances. Pray tell though, what's this I hear from my man about you insisting on bringing more men than I have permitted either you or Lord Clare to bring into my camp?"

[General Brewster]

Mowbray sat atop his horse with an embittered face. Not because he was particularly bitter but because he was trying to think the pain away. Without too much success but he'd do his best not to let the other see. With Arundel arrived Mowbray let him say what he wanted before indicating he should come a little closer. Ensuring him nothing would happen he kept his hand up, albeit a little sarcastic and noway near higher than his chest. As Arundel come closer Mowbray said, quietly enough that only he could hear. "I need them. My entire chest has been cut open and I need them ok?" He grunted, there went his pride he thought. "and I will not be at a disadvantage because I need a couple of men to look after me." Mowbray lowered his hands. "Will we have to postpone?" Mowbray proceeded to ask. He was not going to make the concession.

[Barry Goldwater]

"There is no need, Sir Mowbray." De Vere answered levelly. "Your safety is guaranteed not only by myself, but also the Crown, as you can see from the royal banner over my head. No harm will be allowed to befall a hair on your head, so long as you do not attempt to harm Lord de Clare either, and I can have my own physician take a look at your injuries if you'd like. For the record, even though he himself is injured as you are, he's already arrived with twenty men as I stipulated, and is presently resting at my expense on account of his wounds." Arundel let that statement hang in the air, gauging Mowbray's reaction to his announcement of Clare's presence and similar state. Could he afford to look weaker than Aubrey's own father-in-law?

"I'm afraid postponing these talks isn't an option. The Queen herself has charged me with the task of bringing as speedy a resolution as possible to this crisis, a task which I am intent on carrying out, and I have no reason to believe the King doesn't similarly want as swift an end to the hostilities as possible, especially with reports of Viking attacks further up north. Oh, and the royal treasury's hurting from sustaining the tenants of London's surrounding estates as well." De Vere coughed lightly into one hand. "As I have said, Lord de Clare has already turned up, even though he's not in that much better shape than yourself. The sooner hostilities are formally concluded, the better for all of us."

"But if it will put your mind at ease, I invite you to tour the camp with me. You may even bring all twenty-five of your men with you for this tour. What do you say?" The earl held out his other, non-cough hand for Mowbray to shake.

[General Brewster]

Mowbray frowned at the first sentence that De Vere said. Had the King not vowed to protect his vassals either? Talk was cheap, actions defined people in the eyes of the young Mowbray pup. He couldn't suppress a smirk from ear to ear when he heard that de Clare was also injured. It seems that the Mowbray score was still up after all. "I'll take you up on the offers but it changes nothing De Vere." Mowbray really was not feeling like conceding. not going to concede. Both men know it was a power play. De Vere had the most to gain in the peace talks. After all he needed the remains of the decimated de Clare force and the de Mowbray army to march upon the Viking invasion combined with his own troops. Mowbray had the time to postpone if need be.

[Barry Goldwater]

"I disagree. I think you'll find it changes much and more. Come."

And off they went. The men toured the Arundel/royalist encampment, De Vere taking great pains to show Mowbray the sheer number of his soldiers, as well as the vast array of tents set up to house said soldiers and cooking fires which fed them. Between his mercenaries, Norman tenants and the King's men, De Vere had long ago already calculated he'd have over a thousand men present, a host around twice the size of both De Clare's and De Mowbray's - in other words, one that he could count on to enforce the peace. The one place they avoided in camp was the large, colorful pavilion at the dead center of the camp, where the negotiations were supposed to be held and where scores of fully armed & armored serjeants stood to deter anyone other than the lords from entering - at least until the end, when De Vere indicated that they would stop there.

"So you see, Sir Mowbray..." Arundel began, crossing his arms as they stopped before the pavilion at last. "You are perfectly safe here. If I wanted you dead, you would already be dead. If I were of a mind to let De Clare murder you for whatever reason, likewise. Five additional men would make absolutely no difference. Even fifty more would not save you here, in such circumstances. Yet still you stand - perfectly unharmed, because indeed I've no wish to hurt you, and De Clare couldn't even if he wanted to." He paused, considering his next words carefully. He could only hope Mowbray did the same.

"I have been nothing but polite to you since we first met. I certainly don't believe I've given you, or frankly anyone else in the realm, any grounds to doubt my word or to want you dead. And as you can see from the presence of the King's lesser tenants and the dragon banners overhead, the Crown too approves of my mission and is of the same mind as myself: that this costly bloodshed must stop at once, with no delays." The Treasurer exhaled. This tour had better not have been a waste of his time. "So I hope you will understand when I ask you, once again, to simply send any five of your men home. How on earth can we expect negotiations in good faith to begin when you've already broken one of the rules - which De Clare has agreed to, as I have already told you - from the start, after all?"

[Gandalfus]

The King finally arrives at Saint Edmund's, named for some old ruler of the East Angles who had been slain by pagans many centuries hence, a name that Edgar's own grandfather had shared. And he was not alone; an army of two thousand was at his back, men who had spent the last year in the cold and wet of the Welsh border. Like the King, they were weary and tired, which causes tempers to be on a short fuse. He demands the presence of De Clare, Roger de Mowbray and Lord de Vere immediately, with his men already beginning to set up their own encampment.

[Lord William]

Richard humbly bowed before the King

Your Grace

[Pericles of Athens]

Godwin looked forward to sleeping in a warm bed by a fiery hearth, after all he was soaked to the bone from his time in that hellish pit. While the fire would warm the body, the sight of his children would warm the heart, though their mother had tragically passed while he was in Wales. He attempted to keep those thoughts at bay, he need only focus for a short time more. He would stand near the King when he summoned the warring Normans, Godwin wondered if Edgar had the power to effectively contain such a feud, but he would support him in the endeavor.

Magnus on the other hand was in a foul mood, he had wanted to see blood in Wales, but all he had seen was an old man kill the King’s brother. He found himself milling among the average men when they made camp, hoping that one of these men would attempt to raise arms against the King’s forces, so a fight might follow (however short).

[General Brewster]

"I disagree. I think you'll find it changes much and more. Come."

And off they went. The men toured the Arundel/royalist encampment, De Vere taking great pains to show Mowbray the sheer number of his soldiers, as well as the vast array of tents set up to house said soldiers and cooking fires which fed them. Between his mercenaries, Norman tenants and the King's men, De Vere had long ago already calculated he'd have over a thousand men present, a host around twice the size of both De Clare's and De Mowbray's - in other words, one that he could count on to enforce the peace. The one place they avoided in camp was the large, colorful pavilion at the dead center of the camp, where the negotiations were supposed to be held and where scores of fully armed & armored serjeants stood to deter anyone other than the lords from entering - at least until the end, when De Vere indicated that they would stop there.

"So you see, Sir Mowbray..." Arundel began, crossing his arms as they stopped before the pavilion at last. "You are perfectly safe here. If I wanted you dead, you would already be dead. If I were of a mind to let De Clare murder you for whatever reason, likewise. Five additional men would make absolutely no difference. Even fifty more would not save you here, in such circumstances. Yet still you stand - perfectly unharmed, because indeed I've no wish to hurt you, and De Clare couldn't even if he wanted to." He paused, considering his next words carefully. He could only hope Mowbray did the same.

"I have been nothing but polite to you since we first met. I certainly don't believe I've given you, or frankly anyone else in the realm, any grounds to doubt my word or to want you dead. And as you can see from the presence of the King's lesser tenants and the dragon banners overhead, the Crown too approves of my mission and is of the same mind as myself: that this costly bloodshed must stop at once, with no delays." The Treasurer exhaled. This tour had better not have been a waste of his time. "So I hope you will understand when I ask you, once again, to simply send any five of your men home. How on earth can we expect negotiations in good faith to begin when you've already broken one of the rules - which De Clare has agreed to, as I have already told you - from the start, after all?"

Mowbray looked on as he uncomfortably moved through the camp. His knights ensuring nobody would bump into his wounds. He was at a great discomfort to say the least. Some of his men looked at the amount of troops gathered and exchanged glances yet none felt fear. It were their families too that had been hurt by de Clare and they would not back down from a fight if the need arose. Arriving at the pavilion Mowbray listened to the now cocky getting de Vere who seemed awfully subtile in this threatening of Mowbray to cave into his demands.

"My good Lord de Vere." Mowbray said kindly while sighing some pain away whilst stepping closer to the man. "You have indeed killed me. Considering the men you have here I myself doubt you would have waited indeed. " Mowbray looked around the camp while referring to the men before he stopped to look at his own party before he would focus on de Vere again. With a determined voice he said "I will not send a single one of my knights home however." Mowbray sighed as his face was displaying more pain. "I can return home and go tend to my dead or I can stay.. with twenty five men present." Mowbray paused, it seemed like he needed to sit because the armor was bearing down upon him now, yet he was too filled with pride to simply concede on that or sending his men home however. Mowbray let the silence work in his favor for a moment before he said. "The only concession I will make is that the five men that you deem excess will enter the negotiations with me unarmed while the others are." Mowbray waited for a response. He may be young but this Mowbray was no push over. He knew that this was all about power projection. He also knew that he was at the severe disadvantage here. Mowbray could not field the men de Clare did and with the financial hit pending things could even get a lot worse. With de Clare defeated and his lands back under his control and letters send to powerful people Mowbray decided he could afford to not attend until forced by the Royal persona himself. It all came down to de Vere now.

[Barry Goldwater]

Arundel listened intently to the words of Mowbray, his neutral expression gradually cracking and giving way to a frown of displeasure as the other man went on. By the point where Mowbray had finished, he was plainly shaking his head, countenance grimmer than usual. The Earl let out a sigh, in which frustration was clearly present to all assembled, before speaking again.

"I am a patient man, Sir Mowbray. But not patient enough to put up with whatever it is you think you're playing at." Aubrey's fists tightened around his reins, and his knuckles whitened. Did this man, not much younger than he himself, look down on the Treasurer as he was sure everyone but the King (who, at least, had always appreciated his work in the Treasury) and a few he called friends did? That, despite seeing the vast display of power, numbers and royal legitimacy Arundel had just treated him to, he still thought he could somehow come out on top and enforce his will on the Treasurer over such a petty matter because - why? Because he defeated De Clare once by surprise, when Clare's army was worn out from their pillaging spree and didn't outnumber his own by more than two to one? Or worse still, because he was up against Aubrey de Vere, Earl of Arundel, royal Treasurer, he who loved gold so much that his own clerks mocked him as practically half a Jew himself and whose avoidance of battle led men like the Fleming of Peveril to think him a coward they could just walk over? No dice, Arundel thought bitterly to himself, The peers of England will learn I'm not some pushover, to be trifled with and treated with contempt, here and now.

"I can't have that. The rules I have set, not as Earl of Arundel but as a member of His Grace's government and harbinger of his royal peace, remain in place. De Clare has already abided by them without a fuss. You, though..." Aubrey clucked his tongue, and tasted dryness on his lower lip. Whenever this mess was sorted out, he'd definitely need a stiff drink or five. "If you cannot respect even the most basic of those rules, if you seek to flout and amend them as though you're my superior rather than the King...well, then, let me be clear..." He began to retreat into the mass of his knightly escorts, and two helmeted knights who towered above the rather short, scrawny Treasurer moved to close ranks and conceal him behind their more impressive figures, hands already on their swords' hilts. Before this past hour he had thought it might be De Clare, with bloody vengeance still on his mind and a familial connection to Aubrey to exploit, that would be the difficult one. But Fortune does like throwing screwballs, it seemed. "I'm not your foe, good sir, nor do I wish to be. But regardless of what we may both want, I will be if you insist on this course." He continued, face still visible between the two knights' shoulders.

"You're going to talk to De Clare with twenty men at your back, or zero. The two of you are going to make peace and both your army and his will go home by the end of this week. I neither need nor want singular 'concessions' from you, I just need you to decide whether you're going to do as an official enforcer of the King's law asks or not. Now I won't ask this question again: will you or will you not send five men, any five, away?" Many of the De Vere, royal and mercenary knights all 'round were pulling their mail coifs or slipping their helms on over their heads, and those who already had them donned kept one hand on their reins and the other on their swords. Even the serjeants guarding the central pavilion's entrances were straightening their backs and turning their attention to the mounting confrontation.

[General Brewster]

Roger laughed as the royal treasurer retreated back into the safe space of his own guards and the aggressive stance of everyone else. He was deeply amused that the earl would doubt his own capabilities so much. Yet Mowbray wasn't done yet, he was coming closer to a compromise but it was not going to be won that fast. Roger simply had more to lose. He had no no fancy titles or land of his own. What could he else do to ensure a strong position for himself? No this Mowbray would not fall to the knee. Before speaking he indicated to his Guards to loosen up. They came on edge as the men De Vere had assembled around him became aggitated. Roger would have de Vere strike him down if he wished so. Power breeds power Roger thought to himself. "You would tell the King that you could not get me to the negotiation table even with this parade of power at your back Lord De Vere? I doubt that would strengthen you position in the realm my good Lord." Mowbray said icely as he walked closer to the guards that were now shielding De Vere only halting when he came within an inch of the guard. Undoubtedly sharpening the mood even further. Mowbray looked past the heads of two guardsmen and looked at De Vere. "Lord, I respect you deeply as a continues member of government since The Conqueror appointed you. Unlike the gossip others might spread about you I am seeing a man who knows what needs to be done and does it." Mowbray sighed "I am simply not sending five of my best men back through territory where they might very well be ambushed and killed by hostile forces from de Clare." Mowbray showed his back to the guards and moved back to his own, slightly limping to alleviate the pain of his chest. When he was near his own men he turned to De Vere again. "It is my wish to engage in these negotiations you. I have already offered a concession, I even offered to disarm them while they are at this camp yet you refuse. I wish you could offer concession too and if that is not the case it is my hope that nobody will hold you responsible for the failures of these negotiations. " Mowbray looked around the camp where men from De Vere were still gearing up and looked eager for a fight, Mowbray shifted his gaze to De Vere and stared with a fire in his eye. De Vere was on the rise but he could very much fall down if he had to inform the royal persona of absolutely failing in his attempt to bring peace. Even before actual talks had started.

[Barry Goldwater]

Aubrey shook his head. This had gone on for far too long, and his patience was at an end - it was time to make good on his word. "Sir Mowbray, I am hereby placing you under arrest for repeatedly refusing the command of a royal officer of the peace. You're out of your gourd if you think I can trust you to simply return to your army and not immediately pursue De Clare's forces or harry his lands in retaliation, after you've insisted this madly on breaking the first and most basic term I've set for negotiations to begin. De Clare has proven to me that he can play by the rules, at long last; you most definitely haven't." He sighed with irritation. "I don't know what possessed you to think you had the power to make demands of me and to think I am the one who needs to concede anything, but you've miscalculated. I will end this feud, with or without your willing participation." Edgar would understand, in Aubrey's mind. What could anyone think, when Mowbray insisted this badly on keeping his extra men with him? Even unarmed, a knight could fight. Distract and pin the guards. And that'd clear the way for him to make an attempt on Clare's life at the talks.

"Men! Kindly escort Sir Mowbray to a tent where he's to be supplied with nothing sharp, not even cutting knives for food." De Vere barked at his soldiers. "Escort his knights to another tent, preferably on the other side of our encampment, under the same condition. I want twenty-five of you guarding Sir Mowbray's tent and fifty keeping watch on the knights' tent at all times. If they happen to draw steel, and aren't Mowbray himself..." He drew one finger across his throat in a cutting motion, visibly fed up with how the day's 'negotiations' had gone. "I'll inform your captains by letter that they are to disperse and send their soldiers home, sir, since you aren't going to be doing so in person now."

Unless Mowbray tries to attack and/or kill him, Arundel would depart the scene to seek out his good-father.

[General Brewster]

Aubrey shook his head. This had gone on for far too long, and his patience was at an end - it was time to make good on his word. "Sir Mowbray, I am hereby placing you under arrest for repeatedly refusing the command of a royal officer of the peace. You're out of your gourd if you think I can trust you to simply return to your army and not immediately pursue De Clare's forces or harry his lands in retaliation, after you've insisted this madly on breaking the first and most basic term I've set for negotiations to begin. De Clare has proven to me that he can play by the rules, at long last; you most definitely haven't." He sighed with irritation. "I don't know what possessed you to think you had the power to make demands of me and to think I am the one who needs to concede anything, but you've miscalculated. I will end this feud, with or without your willing participation." Edgar would understand, in Aubrey's mind. What could anyone think, when Mowbray insisted this badly on keeping his extra men with him? Even unarmed, a knight could fight. Distract and pin the guards. And that'd clear the way for him to make an attempt on Clare's life at the talks.

"Men! Kindly escort Sir Mowbray to a tent where he's to be supplied with nothing sharp, not even cutting knives for food." De Vere barked at his soldiers. "Escort his knights to another tent, preferably on the other side of our encampment, under the same condition. I want twenty-five of you guarding Sir Mowbray's tent and fifty keeping watch on the knights' tent at all times. If they happen to draw steel, and aren't Mowbray himself..." He drew one finger across his throat in a cutting motion, visibly fed up with how the day's 'negotiations' had gone. "I'll inform your captains by letter that they are to disperse and send their soldiers home, sir, since you aren't going to be doing so in person now."

Unless Mowbray tries to attack and/or kill him, Arundel would depart the scene to seek out his good-father.

As de Vere's men approach the knights draw steel and shield the young Mowbray in a right formation. Resistance was futile but every last one of them would defend him. Mowbray looked dismayed, would this pesky jew really arrest him or even kill him without a royal order? As de Vere might boast about a royal order, nothing like it had been issued. "You madman!" Roger shouted. "Are you really so narrow minded that you would think I would come here only to leave and resume the campaign? I have no desire to do such a thing and as you and I both know de Clare boasts the larger force." Mowbray was not concerned. He made a small prayer and was ready to die if de Vere said so but not before saying one last thing. "De Vere you have never produced a royal order nor have you mentioned it. You are the one here over playing his hand. Produce me this document or you may slay me where I stand and explain to the king that you are responsible for the outright murder of a member of nobility. You are not the King's Justiciar, you are not the Juror and executioner." The young pup was sure not to have his man attack or otherwise antagonize the others. He wished to solve this with words however strong his words may be.

[Barry Goldwater]

"Oh, I'm the mad one, am I?!" De Vere shouted back. In truth, he had been taking advantage of their exchange of words to move further and further back through the ranks of his own knights, which necessitated shouting so as to be heard by Mowbray. "Look around you, Mowbray! You think I'd have put up these royal banners without approval? Or summoned the King's tenants outside London, some of whom are staring you in the face right now? I've been telling and showing you this entire time that you'd have been under not only my protection, but the Crown's too, if you'd displayed anything resembling reason! If you'd paid any attention at all to affairs outside of your spat with De Clare, you'd know the Queen and our younger King called a session of court, at which I was made their enforcer! Yet you insist on violating the terms of ceasefire and negotiation I've been imposing with that same Crown's approval? You brought this on yourself!"

At this, the Treasurer barked out an unpleasant laugh. A little further and he'd be free to ride through camp, to rouse the rest of his men and throw them at Mowbray - assuming the swarm of knights and serjeants already present on the scene weren't enough to deal with him and his own guards. "I've chosen both my words and actions carefully, Mowbray. Perhaps you should've done the same while you still had the chance! Now tell your knights to stand down or they, and you, will learn exactly how serious I am about enforcing the King's justice and peace, no matter the cost!" De Vere's own front rank of knights were beginning to trot towards Mowbray's circular formation with their swords flashing outward and shields up, awaiting either his compliance or any sign, even the smallest, from him and his soldiers that they would indeed have to seize him by force.

[General Brewster]

Mowbrays men raised their swords above their shields as they see de Vere's men moving on.
"How would I know that the Queen and King had called a court? I was on the march!" Mowbray was backing down, sheathing his own sword while he started to lose his own bearings. He looked at de Vere's man marched onto him when his vision blurred and he fell onto the floor, knocked out. his men turning to aid him while the first few held a line, watching on how de Vere would react.