WIP Title:‘OF CROWNS & QUILLS’–Copyright 2009 by S. M. Vickoren-All rights reserved
Category: Historical Fiction
Charles, Wilmot and Buckingham stood atop the tall tower of Worcester Cathedral, spyglasses in hand. It was barely light out but already the morning mist was dissipating. It was going to be a warm day. From this height they could see all around the walled city very well, even down the small valley to the south where the Severn River wound its way towards Worcester, the Temes River feeding into it from the west. Both of them were good sized, fast moving rivers that no horse could easily swim, and the bridges across them had been destroyed, making them obstacles now.
“Here they come Charles,” Buckingham said, his spyglass aimed at the Severn. Charles immediately swung his own in that direction and frowned. A large body of red coated figures were slowly making their way north along the west side of the river.
“That’s Fleetwood, bringing the boats. Tough fighter.” Wilmot said, also considering the scene. The men of the New Model Army struggled and tugged at the ropes they had tied to the large boats they were hauling against the current of the waterway. Pontoon boats – large enough for horse troops to cross over and there were almost two dozen of the things following the first. It was slow going, but they were making headway against the current; their method was working well.
Charles saw Pitscottie, leader of the Royalist forces closest to where the Temes and Severn met already stirring his men, several blue coated scouts at the very junction of the river. That was good; Fleetwood and his boats had already been spotted. Puffs of smoke told him the scouts were already taking shots at the red coats. He lowered the glass and noticed that three brigades of men on the hills just east of town were suddenly following one lone horseman, a man clad in grey and green, who was leading them away from the hill, obviously headed towards Fleetwood and the River.
“Cromwell’s moving men off the hill.” He said and the other two both lowered their glasses and looked surprised.
Charles thought. Three brigades was a lot to withdraw at one time. It meant there were that many less men on Red Hill and in Perry Wood just to the east of the town. He had three brigades already at those gates ready to enter the field upon hearing the word.
“Harry, it appears to me that Mr. Cromwell just expects us to sit and wait for him to finish helping Fleetwood before we act in any form. What do you say we ‘upset his expectations’?” he asked. Wilmot gave him a wicked grin and laughed lowly.
