Medieval II - In Shadows of Kings

by Kevin Ashman

  ‘I am,’ said Tom, ‘who is it?’

  ‘A friend,’ said the man, ‘come with me if you value your life.’

  Tom needed no further invitation and followed the two men back across the cloisters and into the grounds. The first hooded man had tied and gagged the Monk and soon did the same to Evans.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he said and they quickly left the abbey behind them as they disappeared into the forest. Five minutes later they stopped in a clearing and turned to face Tom.

  ‘There is a horse tied to a tree a few yards further on. In the pack there is food, a waterproof cape and a few coins. Ride North, Tom for there is no longer any future for you here. As soon as they find those two they will raise the alarm and seek you out. You have to ride hard and do not stop until your horse can take no more.’

  ‘Who are you?’ asked Tom, ‘and why are you doing this?’

  ‘It matters not,’ said the man, ‘let’s just say we have mutual friends.’

  ‘You talk of the Fletcher?’

  ‘Say no names ever again, Tom for innocent men may be accused. Just be thankful you have a chance. Now, be gone and never look back.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Tom, ‘and whoever it is that put you up to this, thank them also.’

  ‘We will,’ said the man and together the two rescuers walked into the forest leaving Tom alone with the horse.

  ----

  Two weeks later Garyn stood outside the manor house waiting to be seen along with many others of the village who had issues to air. Some were petty squabbles, some had requests for work and there were even those asking permission to marry outside of the parish but all had something in common, they needed the Lord or Lady of the manor to resolve their issues.

  Eventually they had permission to enter and were shown into the hall where three seats stood empty behind a long table. A rope was draped between two statues of hunting dogs limiting how far each person could approach. Rumour passed around the audience that Lady Elisabeth was bed ridden and that her daughter would judge in her name. Everyone waited nervously until three people entered the hall and silence fell as they made themselves comfortable in the chairs.

  ‘Citizens of Brycheniog,’ announced an usher, ‘pray silence for audience with her Ladyship, Suzette Cadwallader, daughter of Elisabeth Cadwallader, Lady of this Manor, esteemed Knight, Sir Gerald of Essex and the honourable Abbot of the order of St Benedict, Father Williams. This audience is now in session.’

  ‘Bring the first case,’ said Gerald and one of the ushers brought forward two elderly men.

  ‘My Lady,’ said the usher, ‘there is an argument between these two plaintiffs about the ownership of a pig.’ He turned and pointed out each in turn. ‘A deal was made to sire this man’s sow with this man’s boar. The coupling was successful with thirteen piglets born. Each man has had six piglets but dispute the ownership of the thirteenth, claiming their own animal was the most important in the union. They respectfully seek judgement.’

  Suzette looked at Gerald nervously, unsure how to proceed. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear and she nodded quietly before clearing her throat.

  ‘My finding is this,’ she said, ‘each man will look after the pig for six months, at the end of which, the pig will be slaughtered and cut down the middle with each plaintiff receiving one half.’

  The two men mumbled but bowed their heads in acceptance before leaving the hall. One by one the ushers brought cases before the panel until eventually Garyn stood at the rope.

  ‘My Lady,’ said the usher, ‘Garyn ap Thomas is the village blacksmith and brings complaint that his business has been unfairly curtailed by the laying of a new ford.’

  Again Suzette turned to Gerald but the young man’s eyes never left those of Garyn.

  ‘My Lady,’ said Gerald, ‘I know of this situation and beg permission to judge in your name.’

  ‘Granted,’ said Suzette.

  ‘Garyn ap Thomas,’ said Gerald, ‘your concerns are recognised but the needs of one man cannot be put before the needs of the many. The new road will shorten travel distance for traders and travellers alike. Indeed, those seeking pilgrimage to our abbey will find the journey that much easier as soon as the ford is finished and the village will benefit from better trade. The Lady Elisabeth signed the order herself.’

  ‘I can see the benefit, My Lord,’ said Garyn, ‘but question why a family of long standing within the village must be made destitute without recourse to the law of the land.’

  ‘Are you saying she acted illegally?’ asked Gerald, a dangerous smile playing about his lips.

  ‘My Lord, I am sure the Lady Elisabeth acted in good faith with the needs of many in mind but my father was held in high esteem by Lord Cadwallader himself and I don’t think this situation would have been allowed to happen if Robert Cadwallader was alive today.’

  ‘Perhaps not,’ said Gerald, ‘but he is dead and I would advise you not to besmirch his name. The ford is going ahead and the decision will not be reversed.’

  ‘My Lord,’ continued Garyn, ‘the new road isolates my land and prevents trading. My family will become destitute and I respectfully request recompense for the loss of our livelihood.’

  ‘Recompense,’ said Gerald with a quizzical look on his face. ‘Young man, I think you misunderstand the situation. The land upon which the new road is being laid belongs to the manor, as does the location of the new ford. The old way which is to be fenced off also belongs to the estate and as such, the law does not require us to pay any recompense. The fact that your father chose such a stupid place to build his forge is of no consequence.’

  ‘He chose the existing ford to take advantage of the existing traffic,’ said Garyn.

  ‘Then he was a fool with no vision,’ said Gerald. ‘Anyone of sense could see there was a better route to the village, it just needed someone such as I to make it happen. There will be no compensation.’

  Suzette leaned forward and spoke into Gerald’s ear and after a whispered conversation, Gerald turned to face Garyn again.

  ‘Garyn ap Thomas,’ he said, ‘my whim is to have you thrown out and whipped for insolence however, Lady Suzette is of a kinder disposition. Out of the kindness of her heart she has authorised me to offer you a deal which will help you settle your family elsewhere.’

  ‘What sort of deal?’ asked Garyn.

  ‘We will buy the land from you at a fair rate,’ said Gerald, ‘and turn it over for grazing the manor’s flocks.’

  ‘How much?’ asked Garyn.

  Gerald turned and talked quietly to Father Williams before facing Garyn once again.

  ‘We will pay ten pounds,’ said Gerald, ‘a generous price I think you will agree.’

  ‘Ten pounds,’ said Garyn in disbelief, ‘it’s worth ten times that.’

  ‘With full access, I would agree but as you have said yourself, it will soon be isolated and no use to any man.’

  ‘That is not a fair price,’ said Garyn and turned to face Suzette. ‘My Lady, I beseech you to intervene and pay a fair price.’

  ‘The Lady has authorised me to act on her behalf,’ said Gerald loudly, ‘and I would thank you not to offend her ears with your begging. The price will be ten pounds and no more, take it or leave it.’

  ‘This is brigandry,’ shouted Garyn, ‘you cannot do this, I won’t allow you to.’

  The hall gasped in shock at the outburst and silence fell as Gerald got to his feet.

  ‘Your outburst is an insult to this manor, blacksmith and I will not let it go unpunished. With immediate effect your lands are hereby confiscated in the name of the King and will be administered by the Lady Suzette of the Cadwallader estate.’

  ‘You can’t do this,’ shouted Garyn.’

  ‘Furthermore,’ shouted Gerald, ‘you are condemned to a week in the village stocks with no succour from man or shelter. The rest of you, take notice. Before this month is out I will be wed to the Lady Suzette and will reside permanently in this house. Let th
is be a lesson to all, for when I become master of this estate, I will countenance no insolence of nobility or station, whether it be Lord or King. Guards seize this man and take him to the stocks, this audience is concluded.

  The armed men around the hall ushered the remaining people out as two guards dragged Garyn through a different door. Suzette left the room and when the hall was empty, Gerald turned to Father Williams.

  ‘I expect you are happy with the outcome?’ he asked.

  ‘More than happy,’ said the Monk, ‘he unwittingly played his role perfectly and the result is exactly as I hoped.’

  ‘So,’ said Gerald, ‘I get the land and you get to see him humiliated before his village. What exactly did he do to you that was so bad?’

  ‘He humiliated me before Longshanks himself,’ said Abbot, ‘and denied me possession of the holiest of relics. His death will be a gift like no other.’

  ‘Death?’ asked Gerald. ‘He is going to the stocks, not the gibbet.’

  ‘Anything can happen over five days,’ said the Abbot, ‘who knows what assassins or brigands may take advantage of his predicament.’

  ‘You are a vicious man, Father,’ said Gerald, ‘I’ll have to remind myself not to cross you.’

  ‘You do that, Gerald,’ said the Abbot, ‘it may be the best decision you ever make.’

  ----

  Chapter Twelve

  The New World

  1276

  For weeks the column headed westward through the forests and into the rolling plains beyond. At first the going was tough but eventually it got easier and the routine soon settled into one of ease and shared adventure. Those allocated to hunting parties roamed far afield and started to learn the habits of the indigenous animals. Deer and the black feathered birds made up their staple diet and after each day’s march ended, the evenings were taken with setting up camp and eating the meaty broth that Spider made in the giant cooking pots. Fruit and berries were eaten straight from the bush and strange plants were tried carefully to check if they were poisonous before adding to the quickly growing range of food they were gathering.

  After a particularly difficult day, Tarian called a halt and the men fell gratefully to the ground to rest. Some of them were tasked with building the fire and Spider hung the communal pot on an iron frame while others butchered the large deer the hunting party had brought back that day.

  ‘I should have the choicest steak,’ shouted Marcus for all to hear, ‘it was my arrow that brought him down.’

  ‘I hear the animal threw itself at you,’ laughed Geraint, ‘and any man could have had the same success. You were in the right place at the right time, no more.’

  ‘But is that not a skill in itself?’ asked Marcus, ‘it is true the beast did not flee but my arrow still needed to be true and it pierced the heart as good as any tournament winner. Perhaps my future lies in winning prizes around the castles of England.’

  The men groaned at his words for he had been boasting since he returned with the deer.

  ‘My Lord,’ cried Geraint, ‘allow this man a steak I beseech thee, for all our sakes.’

  ‘If it stops him crowing,’ said the Knight, ‘he can have the choicest slice.’

  The men laughed and continued to set up the camp as the food cooked. Night fell and they started to gather around the fire, their mouths watering at the smell of the pot contents. Finally Spider shouted the words they were all longing to hear.

  ‘Food’s done!’

  Everyone gathered around and filled their tankards with the potage and each was allowed to spike a piece of meat with their knives before they returned to their sleeping space.

  ‘Where’s my steak?’ roared Marcus, much to the mirth of all present.

  ‘Alas, beneath the heavy hide your beast was but a scrawny one,’ said Spider, ‘and there was not enough meat to spare a steak. However, there is meat aplenty on this.’ He reached into the pot and withdrew the thigh bone of the deer.

  Marcus mumbled in disappointment but took the leg nevertheless. There seemed to be quite a bit of meat still attached and besides, he knew the bone would be full of marrow. He walked over to sit alongside Geraint and both ate in silence, relishing the hearty meal at the end of an arduous day.

  ‘I feel I will sleep like the dead tonight,’ said Geraint, ‘my body is exhausted.’

  ‘Me also’, said Marcus, draining the tankard and reaching for the leg bone, ‘do you want some of this?’

  ‘No, you can take it,’ said Geraint, ‘it is your kill, I’m going to get more Cawl.’ He returned to the pot and nagged Spider to issue a refill before returning to sit alongside Marcus but as he approached, he could see his friend was holding his mouth in pain.

  ‘What ails you?’ asked Geraint.

  ‘I’ve broken a cursed tooth,’ said Marcus.

  ‘How did you do that?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ snapped Marcus, ‘probably on a bit of detached bone.’

  Geraint picked up the leg bone and examined it, his fingers probing into the flesh where something was lodged.

  ‘No wonder you broke your tooth,’ he said eventually, ‘you bit into an arrow head. That’s why the animal didn’t run, it was already wounded.’

  ‘Impossible,’ said Marcus, ‘besides, my arrow found the heart and I extracted it intact. I will have no other man claiming a share of my kill.’

  ‘I don’t think there is any chance of that,’ said Geraint quietly, opening his hand for Marcus to see, ‘this arrow head is made of flint.’

  ----

  Within five minutes the camp was a hive of activity as Tarian marched about, issuing his orders.

  ‘I want every man to form a perimeter,’ he shouted. ‘Form a circle around the carts at twenty paces distance. You will lie in pairs with weapons to hand. Each will take it in turns to rest and may God help any I find sleeping who should be awake. Spider, refill the pot and stoke the fire, I want tomorrow’s food done and the fire extinguished before it turns dark.’

  He turned to face some of the Lancers.

  ‘Place two men on each hill but do not expose yourselves to prying eyes. As it gets dark, bring the horses inside the cordon and take your place in the defences. We have no idea who these people are. They may be friendly or they may be hostile but when we encounter them, we will not be found wanting.’

  Men formed a line at the wagons and retrieved their weapons. Archers donned their gambesons while lancers pulled on their chainmail shirts. Pikes were handed out to the foot soldiers while an extra bundle of arrows was issued to every bowman. Finally they were in place and as it fell dark, the horses were tied to the wagons, the fire extinguished and the camp fell silent.

  Geraint lay alongside Marcus and both faced outward toward the treeline.

  ‘Do you think this is a bit much?’ asked Geraint.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Marcus, ‘but it doesn’t hurt to be wary. For all we know there is a huge army out there with Calvary untold, just waiting to run us down with lances.’

  ‘We would have surely seen something by now,’ said Geraint.

  ‘Perhaps they are laying up inside their fortresses.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Geraint, ‘though I have my doubts.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘That arrowhead was made of flint,’ said Geraint. ‘Only the poorest of peasants back home resort to such things, Iron has been used for as long as anyone knows.’

  ‘Perhaps there is a shortage of iron ore in these lands.’

  ‘If that is so, then we can hope to meet an inferior force, for no weapons of wood or flint can compete with those of iron. Tarian displays caution and that is good, but I think he fears unduly.’

  ‘Geraint,’ said Marcus, ‘you have forgotten one thing. We are but two hundred men in a strange land. Who knows how many there are and if their numbers are great, it matters not if they attack us with flint tipped arrows or just their bare hands, eventually we will be overwhelmed. Tarian has taken fair precaution.’
>
  ‘It is a point well-made,’ said Geraint. ‘You get some sleep, Marcus, I will take the first watch.’

  ----

  The night passed uneventful, as indeed did the next few days. Rations were cut as the hunting parties stayed close to the main force and often came back empty handed. Eventually Spider approached Tarian and voiced his concerns about the food stocks.

  ‘My Lord, the barrels of meat are three parts empty. We need to bring in some game lest we will be eating grass within the week.’

  ‘I understand,’ said Tarian. ‘I will send out a strong force on the morrow. We have to be careful of those who use the flint arrows but hunger is no less a foe. Leave it to me.’

  The following morning, Tarian assembled a foraging group consisting of ten lancers and ten archers. Only bowmen able to ride were selected and they too were issued with horses, a situation usually unheard of but it was essential the group were able to range far if they were going to be successful. Geraint had been given command of the hunting party and sat upon one of the animals as did Marcus but all declined their gambesons as it was essential they were as unencumbered as possible when they started tracking.

  ‘We are going to hunt, not fight,’ Geraint had said, ‘and if we are close enough to be struck by arrows, I feel we will have bigger problems to worry about.’

  The group set out making good ground as they headed into the unknown territory. Soon they were amongst tall forests and though there was plenty of spoor, their efforts were unsuccessful and noon passed without anything being caught.

  ‘Our luck is cursed,’ moaned Marcus as they rode, ‘It seems this forest laughs at our efforts.’

  ‘The deer certainly seem more wary,’ said Geraint, ‘and that is a concern. Perhaps they have encountered men before.’

  They crossed a small stream and Geraint called a halt to rest and water the horses.

  ‘I’ll carry on a while longer,’ said Marcus, ‘and see what lies beyond this hill.’

  ‘Take David of Caerleon with you,’ said Geraint, ‘no man should ride alone out here.’

  Marcus summoned the young man and together they rode ahead beneath the widely spaced trees. The rest of the men dismounted and gave their horses the bundles of grass they had collected whilst crossing a valley earlier that day. Each man had a small portion of salted beef and they chewed quietly while taking advantage of the fresh water supply.