The King's Falcon (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 3) by Stella Riley Page A
Authors: Stella Riley
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again and they say that the secret of success lies in seizing the hour.’ The smile returned, albeit sardonically. ‘I just hope the hour I’m seizing isn’t the wrong one.’
When he had gone, Francis murmured meditatively, ‘So this is it, then. The day we’ve all been waiting for.’
‘Bring on the drums and trumpets.’
‘How long before Cromwell sets out after us?’
‘Three or four days, perhaps. Without reinforcements, Perth will fall like a ripe plum. But it isn’t only Cromwell we have to worry about,’ said Ashley a trifle grimly. ‘It’s Lilburne and Harrison in the north and hostile local militia just about everywhere else. It’s the difficulty of recruiting along the way without wasting time – and the four hundred miles lying between us and London.’ He paused briefly. ‘If anyone thinks this is going to be fun, they’re deluding themselves.’
* * *
They crossed the border on August 6 th with sixteen thousand men and reached Carlisle three days later. They were not made welcome. Meanwhile, the Duke of Buckingham (who had been sulking at not being given a senior command) was sent on ahead with General Massey to do some advance recruiting while, behind them, Cromwell took Perth and set off in apparently leisurely pursuit. Worried by the lack of haste, Colonel Peverell obtained permission to undertake some personal reconnaissance and returned with the sobering news that Lambert was already well on his way to join Harrison with between three and four thousand Horse.
Charles looked up from the map he’d been perusing with Hamilton.
‘Where?’ he demanded. ‘Where will they try to stop us?’
‘I can’t be sure, Sir – but I’d hazard a guess at somewhere in the region of Preston.’ Ashley’s mouth curled slightly. ‘There’s nothing like familiar ground, after all. And they probably hope it will be as lucky for them now as it was in ’48.’
He didn’t add that they could do with a little luck themselves. He didn’t think he needed to.
The dark Stuart eyes rested on him broodingly.
‘You were there, weren’t you?’
‘At Preston? Yes, Sir.’
‘And was it luck that gave the New Model their victory?’
Ashley hesitated for a moment, wondering how to answer in a way that was neither discouraging nor untruthful. Then, unable to think of one, he said bluntly, ‘No, Sir. It was bad leadership on our side. If Lord Callander had sent even a thousand more men to Sir Marmaduke Langdale, the outcome might have been very different.’
‘But he didn’t.’
‘No.’ Ashley stopped again and then, looking the King directly in the eye, said, ‘Sir, some generals have a tendency to hold back the reserves until it’s too late to use them at all.’
‘And Cromwell?’
‘Isn’t one of them.’
‘I see.’ Charles restored his attention to the map. ‘Thank you.’
* * *
The army resumed its plodding march into England and the Scots grew grumpier with every passing mile. Charles was proclaimed King at Penrith; Kendal and Lancaster fell wearily behind them and Preston, when they got there, proved miraculously free of the enemy. Warrington, on the other hand, did not. Major-Generals Lambert and Harrison lay south of the river with roughly nine thousand Horse.
‘Ah well,’ said Ashley to his unservile servant. ‘I was right about them choosing familiar ground. They’ll probably try to hold the bridge against us. But if memory serves me correctly, they may find that difficult.’
Jem Barker spat on the Colonel’s breast-plate and polished it with his sleeve.
‘How come?’
‘According to my information, the bulk of their force is cavalry – and cavalry need open ground. Amidst the hedges and ditches south of Warrington Bridge, there is no open ground. Consequently, I doubt they’ll be able to hold us.’
‘Less of the ‘us’,’ Jem grunted. ‘I’ve
When he had gone, Francis murmured meditatively, ‘So this is it, then. The day we’ve all been waiting for.’
‘Bring on the drums and trumpets.’
‘How long before Cromwell sets out after us?’
‘Three or four days, perhaps. Without reinforcements, Perth will fall like a ripe plum. But it isn’t only Cromwell we have to worry about,’ said Ashley a trifle grimly. ‘It’s Lilburne and Harrison in the north and hostile local militia just about everywhere else. It’s the difficulty of recruiting along the way without wasting time – and the four hundred miles lying between us and London.’ He paused briefly. ‘If anyone thinks this is going to be fun, they’re deluding themselves.’
* * *
They crossed the border on August 6 th with sixteen thousand men and reached Carlisle three days later. They were not made welcome. Meanwhile, the Duke of Buckingham (who had been sulking at not being given a senior command) was sent on ahead with General Massey to do some advance recruiting while, behind them, Cromwell took Perth and set off in apparently leisurely pursuit. Worried by the lack of haste, Colonel Peverell obtained permission to undertake some personal reconnaissance and returned with the sobering news that Lambert was already well on his way to join Harrison with between three and four thousand Horse.
Charles looked up from the map he’d been perusing with Hamilton.
‘Where?’ he demanded. ‘Where will they try to stop us?’
‘I can’t be sure, Sir – but I’d hazard a guess at somewhere in the region of Preston.’ Ashley’s mouth curled slightly. ‘There’s nothing like familiar ground, after all. And they probably hope it will be as lucky for them now as it was in ’48.’
He didn’t add that they could do with a little luck themselves. He didn’t think he needed to.
The dark Stuart eyes rested on him broodingly.
‘You were there, weren’t you?’
‘At Preston? Yes, Sir.’
‘And was it luck that gave the New Model their victory?’
Ashley hesitated for a moment, wondering how to answer in a way that was neither discouraging nor untruthful. Then, unable to think of one, he said bluntly, ‘No, Sir. It was bad leadership on our side. If Lord Callander had sent even a thousand more men to Sir Marmaduke Langdale, the outcome might have been very different.’
‘But he didn’t.’
‘No.’ Ashley stopped again and then, looking the King directly in the eye, said, ‘Sir, some generals have a tendency to hold back the reserves until it’s too late to use them at all.’
‘And Cromwell?’
‘Isn’t one of them.’
‘I see.’ Charles restored his attention to the map. ‘Thank you.’
* * *
The army resumed its plodding march into England and the Scots grew grumpier with every passing mile. Charles was proclaimed King at Penrith; Kendal and Lancaster fell wearily behind them and Preston, when they got there, proved miraculously free of the enemy. Warrington, on the other hand, did not. Major-Generals Lambert and Harrison lay south of the river with roughly nine thousand Horse.
‘Ah well,’ said Ashley to his unservile servant. ‘I was right about them choosing familiar ground. They’ll probably try to hold the bridge against us. But if memory serves me correctly, they may find that difficult.’
Jem Barker spat on the Colonel’s breast-plate and polished it with his sleeve.
‘How come?’
‘According to my information, the bulk of their force is cavalry – and cavalry need open ground. Amidst the hedges and ditches south of Warrington Bridge, there is no open ground. Consequently, I doubt they’ll be able to hold us.’
‘Less of the ‘us’,’ Jem grunted. ‘I’ve
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