It could be seen for miles because the topography in this area wasn’t as hilly as it was in some parts of Northumberland. It was flat moors with an occasional rise now and then. Therefore, there was a wide field of vision and the great bastion of Blackpool Castle was easily seen.
That did not mean that it was vulnerable however. Quite the contrary. Castles along the Scottish Marches all tended to be built the same way – heavily fortified, with massively thick stone walls, stubby and compact, as if they were burrowing down into the earth to gain a foothold against the Scots.
Carlisle Castle was a perfect example of a fortress looking as if it were hunkering down, preparing to take an onslaught. But then there were castles like Northwood and Questing and Berwick, that were massive places, soaring above the land with four and five-storied keeps, or in the case of Questing, sitting atop a big hill. Breaching it was impossible because an attacking army had to mountain climb in order to get to it, and once they reached it, the walls were twenty feet high.
It was a great deterrent against attack.
Blackpool was much in the same vein as the rest of these Marcher castles. It wasn’t sitting atop a big hill and it didn’t have a soaring keep, but it was built from the beige sandstone that was so common to the area, reinforced by gray granite. It had an enormous curtain wall that was eighteen feet high, being twenty feet thick in some places. Having been built by William Rufus, it also used an ancient man-made structure to its advantage: the wall across the northern part of England built by the ancient Romans.
At this section of the old wall, it was still several feet tall and had what they called a gatehouse, or a mile house, built into it. It was essentially a fortified gatehouse. When William Rufus had built Blackpool, he’d used this ancient wall to protect his fortress by adding on to it and making it encircle his new garrison. Therefore, an army had to pass through the ancient Roman gatehouse before it could even arrive at the fortress itself. All of that protection was exactly why Scott de Wolfe had purchased the property.
It was a sight to behold.
And it belonged to Tor for the most part even though, technically, it belonged to the Earl of Warenton. Scott had given it over to his second son to command and Tor had taken to it immediately. He had reinforced the fortress by having his army dig a moat around the eighteen-foot walls, something that had to be carefully engineered so the walls wouldn’t collapse, but Tor was brilliant that way. His army had dug out the moat in a little under six months and the massive walls were as steady as they ever were. The moat was fed by a small river called the Black River, hence the name of the fortress.
Blackpool Castle had become one of the more formidable castles in Northumberland.
Tor derived great satisfaction from the sight as he and Enbarr trotted down the road, drawing closer to the outer ancient wall. Already, he could see movement in the outer gatehouse and as he rode up to the thick, squat gatehouse, his men were more than happy to open the heavy iron gates. He passed through, greeting his men, as he continued on to the second, and main, gatehouse.
This gatehouse was thick and impenetrable, two stories tall, with a platform on top of it so the gate guards had easy access to unruly visitors. It was a simple thing to position archers atop the gatehouse for just that purpose but, in this case, the double portcullises were lifted, admitting Tor into the courtyard beyond.
There was only one courtyard at Blackpool, but it was a big one. Surrounded by those tall walls, it was well-protected. In addition to a three-storied keep, there were separate living apartments built by the former owner, a separate great hall, kitchens, and a stable yard tucked into one corner. In the vast space between the fortress and the ancient Roman walls, there was a larger stable and a vast garden to supply the fortress with fresh produce.
“Welcome home!”
Tor turned to see his second in command approaching. Christian Hage was his cousin, the youngest son of his aunt, Katheryn, and her husband, Alec. Christian was named for two dead uncles, a brother to his grandfather and then also brother to his