The Bastard's Crown

by H A CULLEY

  A few days later Harold and his men were released from their chains and handed over to William at Eu. They were still captives, of course, but Harold was treated as an honoured guest. When he was reunited with Oswin and Wulfric he embraced both of them and promised them a reward for their loyalty and service once they returned to England.

  ‘Sir Guillaume, as it is thanks to you that news of Earl Harold’s predicament was brought to me so speedily, I would be grateful if you would act as the earl’s host whilst he is with us.’

  ‘Of course, my lord duke. Nothing would please me more.’ He bowed to the earl who nodded his head and smiled, though both knew that this really meant that Guillaume was now Harold’s warder.

  Naturally this meant that he and Hugo could no longer travel to Cuille for the wedding so Robert, Miles, Tristan and Roland set off again on their own.

  A few days later Guillaume came to find Hugo in a hurry.

  ‘Get everything ready for another campaign, we are leaving next week.’

  ‘Oh, where to this time, Sir Guillaume?’ Hugo had recovered some of his normal good humour now he wasn’t going to have to attend the wedding of his father and the Lady Millicent.

  ‘Brittany. The duke wants to make sure that Conan isn’t in a position to attack Normandy if he invades England.’

  It was then that Hugo recalled that Guillaume had something about William succeeding King Edward when they had been in England.

  ‘How likely is that?’ Hugo was still sceptical.

  ‘King Edward has no children and he promised, in that eventuality, that the duke’s uncle would succeed him when he was an exile over here in the time of Cnut. William has inherited that right.’

  ‘But I seem to remember Oswin and his friends telling me that the Witan choses the king from amongst the house of Cerdic - the athelings.’

  ‘Huh. The only atheling left in England is Edgar, a twelve year old boy, and William is also related to Edward as his mother was the duke’s great aunt. He will make a far better king than Edgar.’

  ‘I see; so what does he intend in Brittany? Conquest as in Maine?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. He needed Maine as a buffer state between Normandy and Anjou. He just needs to make sure that Conan has enough to deal with inside his own borders so he isn’t tempted to interfere in Normandy when the duke is away.’

  Two months later the Norman army marched into Brittany to relieve Dol-de-Bretagne, which had revolted against Conan of Brittany and which Conan was now besieging. Hugo suspected that the leader of the revolt was in the pay of William. The army’s route led past Mont St Michel which Harold was much taken with. As Harold’s party rode onwards they heard cries from their right where a flanking escort of several knights and mounted sergeants had ridden into quicksand and were now in some difficulty.

  Harold immediately turned his horse and rode towards them calling for someone to bring ropes. Hugo raced to the baggage wagons and, finding two coils, grabbed them and cantered after Harold. When he got there he found that Guillaume, Oswin, Wulfric and several others had already established where the safe ground ended but couldn’t reach the sinking men. Hugo threw out one rope and Harold the other. Two knights grabbed the end and, with the help of the others, Harold and Hugo pulled them to safety. They managed to save two more before the others began to sink beyond reach. Hugo tied a rope around his waist and started to crawl out over the soft sand using a swimming motion. He sunk a little way into the sand but continued to make progress until he reached the hand of a man whose head was already submerged. Hugo grabbed the hand with both of his and yelled for the others to pull.

  At first nothing happened and the pressure of the rope, tight about Hugo’s waist, was almost too much to bear. Then, with a sucking sound, the man’s head reappeared together with his other hand. He spat sand out of his mouth and started to breathe again. Five minutes later he and Hugo were safe. Everyone thumped Hugo’s back in congratulation then a hush fell over them and they moved aside.

  ‘That was one of the bravest things I have ever seen.’ Duke William shook Hugo’s hand with some warmth. ‘Well done, lad. What is your name?’

  ‘Hugo de Cuille, my lord duke.’

  ‘Ah, yes. I remember: the squire who was abducted to become a bondsman!’ He smiled, and then he struck Hugo a tremendous blow across the face so that Hugo staggered and nearly fell.

  ‘No longer a squire; you know your knightly vows I’m sure. That’s to make sure you remember them. Congratulations Sir Hugo.’

  Hugo was dumbstruck. A knight! He had hoped that he might receive the accolade next year when he was twenty one but there was no guarantee. And to be knighted by the duke himself was a great honour. He scarcely noted that William also knighted Harold of Wessex for his prompt action, though he thought later that the motive here might have been more of a diplomatic one.

  Hugo felt another hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Well done Hugo. I am immensely proud of you. Even if I am a little annoyed that I’ll now have to find another squire.’ There was genuine warmth in Guillaume’s smile. ‘The duke has asked me to let you know that he will furnish you with your armour and you may choose a destrier from his stables. My gift to you is the palfrey you are riding.’

  ‘I am overwhelmed Sir Guillaume. Thank you.’ Hugo was in danger of becoming emotional.

  ‘Not more Sir, just Guillaume from now on.’ He turned to go, then stopped.

  ‘You will need a squire yourself now, I presume?’

  ‘Now my father has no more need of him, I intend to ask Roland. But I must also find a lord to employ me.’

  ‘No need; I am sure my father will allow you to join my conroi.’

  ~#~

  Sir Hugo stood watching the fire arrows rain down on Dinan. Duke William had already left the army and taken Harold with him. The rumour was that he had asked Harold to swear to support his claim to the English throne before he was released to return home. Harold, having little option, did so then found out that the table before which he had taken his oath contained holy relics. Hugo doubted if Harold would have taken the oath had he known as it was a far more serious matter to break a holy oath rather than just a promise made under coercion. He supposed that Harold, Oswin and Wulfric were now safely back in England and wondered idly if he would ever see his friends again.

  The next day the town surrendered but Conan had fled. It took another three months before a truce was concluded under which Conan promised not to attack Normandy. After that Sir Hugo was allowed to leave for Cuille. He still had no squire but Giullaume had allowed him to share Lyle, the fourteen year old son of one of his father’s tenants. He couldn’t spare Lyle to accompany Hugo to Cuille so he set off on his own. He reached Rennes on the first day and Vitre on the second. As he neared the border he thought of that time seven years ago when Gilbert and he had fled the Angevins and first met Guillaume.

  He rode up the last mile to Cuille in increasingly heavy snow so that, by the time he arrived, he looked like a white ghost. A man-at-arms he didn’t recognise challenged him when he reached the gate in the palisade.

  ‘Who are you and what’s your business here?’ the man challenged gruffly. He was stamping his feet and looking thoroughly disgruntled at being on guard duty in this weather.

  ‘My name is Sir Hugo de Cuille; now go and tell my father that I am home.’

  The man was taken aback but before he could respond there was a cry and Roland came slipping and sliding across the icy yard.

  ‘Hugo, is that really you? What are you doing here?’ Roland was nearly seventeen but he was as excited as a twelve year old.

  Hugo dismounted and gave the reins of the palfrey he was riding, his destrier and the pack horse to the man-at-arms before embracing his friend. The man-at-arms was not used to horses and struggled to control them.

  ‘Well, it’s Sir Hugo for a start. And I’m looking for a squire.’

  ‘But you’re not twenty one until next year.’ The youth looke
d puzzled. ‘And how would you find a squire here… Oh!’ He beamed with pleasure as he realised. ‘Sir Robert was only saying the other day that he had to find another knight soon who needed a squire.’

  The annoyed man-at-arms gave the reins to two stable boys who had come running up when they realised that there was a visitor. At that moment his father appeared at the door to the hall followed by a girl who was heavily pregnant.

  ‘I see you wasted no time in replacing me as heir, father.’ Hugo couldn’t resist teasing his father as soon as they were inside.

  ‘Oh, er. Yes, well.’

  ‘It’s alright, father. I am happy for you both.’ Hugo smiled. ‘I have grown quite used to it now. I’m only sorry that I missed the wedding. When is the baby due?’

  ‘I’m sorry; where are my manners. You two haven’t met. Lady Millicent, may I present my son, Hugo?’ She smiled prettily at him and said how pleased she was to meet him at last.

  ‘I trust you won’t expect me to call you Lady Millicent.’ He held up his hand as his father was about to protest. ‘And I won’t expect you to call me Sir Hugo.’

  ‘When were you knighted?’ Robert asked in surprise.

  ‘Last summer at Mont St. Michel and by the duke himself.’ He told them briefly what had happened and tried to sound modest.

  He stayed at Cuille for a week, renewing old acquaintances and enjoying his restored relationship with his father. He also got to know Millicent and found that he liked her. She wasn’t as empty headed as many of the girls her age he had come across, barring Rowena, of course. In fact she could read and write and knew quite a lot about managing the manor. Hugo felt that she would be a great help to his father. He met the new bailiff and was unimpressed. Perhaps it was just as well that Millicent could help to keep an eye on things.

  Snow still lay on the ground when Hugo and Roland set out for Rouen but the sun was shining and the thaw had started. The countryside glistened from the sunlight reflected off the snow and water dripped from the trees. Hugo felt at peace with the world.

  All that changed when they reached Rouen and were met by Gilbert.

  ‘Hallo Gilbert. What are you doing here?’ Hugo dismounted and smiled at his friend.

  ‘Hugo, it’s really good to see you again. But I have some bad news, I fear.’

  ‘What is it?’ Hugo asked perfunctorily. He was more interested in Gilbert’s unexpected presence. ‘And you haven’t told me what brings you here.’

  Gilbert looked at Roland as if to question whether he could speak in front of him.

  ‘Oh, sorry this is Roland, my squire. We have been through a lot together and I trust him as I trust you. Roland this is Gilbert, a boyhood friend from Cuille who is assistant to the steward of Caen Castle.’

  ‘Not any more. I am now the assistant steward to Viscount Peverel.’

  ‘Congratulations. How did that come about?’

  ‘It’s a long story and it will have to wait until another time.’ He grimaced. ‘I think that Sir Guillaume more or less promised you a place in the Viscount’s mesnie?’ Hugo nodded.

  ‘Well, I fear that the two have fallen out. Ranulph named his fifteen year old son Hamo as his heir in place of Guillaume and, to make matters worse the other two younger sons, William and Payne, are given precedence over Guillaume. It seems that Duke William has promised to give Guillaume well over a hundred manors once he has conquered England. Lord Ranulph has therefore said that Guillaume doesn’t need to inherit any of his existing holdings in England or any of his land in Normandy. Of course, the real reason is that, by doing this, Duke William has all but formally acknowledged that Guillaume is his son.’

  ‘Oh. I see.’

  ‘That means that Guillaume no longer has any influence with the viscount and therefore you are without an employer.’

  ~#~

  The duke thumped the table and glared at his council. They were discussing King Edward’s deteriorating health and beginning to make plans for the invasion.

  ‘It is not acceptable that my vassals won’t follow me overseas. If they won’t, then I will replace them with lords that will do as they are told. I also want word sent throughout France, Germany and Italy that there will be rich pickings after we have conquered England. Reports from Normans living there lead me to believe that there may be as many as four or five thousand manors and many of these will be given to my followers.’

  ‘Do you then mean to displace all the Anglo-Saxon and Danish nobility?’ Asked William FitzOsbern, one of Duke William’s most influential barons.

  ‘Those that fight against me will certainly lose their lands; as to the others, that depends on how loyal they prove.’

  ‘That would certainly provide a compelling motive for landless knights and younger sons of the nobility to join you. What about the counts, viscounts and barons though? You will need their support.’

  ‘Yes, we need to find a way to make them pay for the hundreds of ships I will need as well as providing me with men, horses, weapons and provisions.’

  ‘I suggest we start by drawing up a list of those on who we think we can count, those who will need some persuasion and those who will probably oppose the venture.’ The Bishop of Bayeux ventured.

  ‘Good idea, Odo. I’ll leave that to you.’

  ‘How many ships will we need?’ Another asked.

  ‘That will depend on how many men I can raise for the invasion. We will need specialist vessels to ferry the horses and to carry several castles as well as those for the men.’

  ‘Castles?’ William de Warenne asked, a little bemused.

  ‘Yes, William. Wooden castles to protect the landing site and our land base. The English have protected towns called burghs but there are few castles. My strategy for holding the land, once we have seized it, is to erect wooden motte and bailey castles as quickly as possible and then to start replacing them in stone later. We will take several with us ready-made so that they can be erected quickly.’

  ‘But my lord however many men you manage to take with you across the Channel will never be enough to defeat the whole English Army. We are bound to be severely outnumbered.’ One of his council objected.

  ‘I agree; which is why we need to use a little cunning to reduce those numbers. Harold Godwinson of Wessex and his brother, Earl Tostig of Northumbria, are increasingly hostile to each other and the Earl of Mercia is jealous of the power of the Godwinsons. With a little help I believe that we can use this dissention to remove Mercia and the North from Harold’s control. Furthermore both Harald Hadrada of Norway and the king of Denmark have a claim to the English throne and we can make use of one or both of them to weaken the English first.’

  He looked around the room and noted those who were nodding in agreement, those who looked unconvinced and those who had the glint of avarice in their eyes. This category included his half-brother, Odo.

  ‘Finally I propose to enlist the support of the Pope so that our campaign becomes a holy crusade. It shouldn’t be too difficult, the English clergy opposed various reforms demanded by the Catholic Church and so I am sure the Pope will support any move which will bring them under the control of Rome.’

  An hour later various preparatory actions had been agreed and the meeting broke up. Odo took the opportunity to have a quiet word with the duke as he was leaving.

  ‘William, have you had a moment to think about Ranulph Peverel?’ The viscount had been a notable absence from the council ever since he had disinherited Guillaume.

  ‘It is his choice not to attend, not mine.’ William spoke impatiently and Odo realised that he was on delicate ground.

  ‘He is a wealthy noble and we need his support though, brother.’

  ‘Yes, I realise that. What do you suggest?’

  ‘Well, he holds a dozen or more English manors in right of his wife. You could offer to confirm his title to these after you become king and perhaps add, say, fifty more. That should bring him to heel.’

  ‘Umm. Yes, I think you may b
e right. But I am not about to go to him with a begging bowl.’ He paused. ‘You have my blessing to negotiate with him. I don’t expect him to join the invasion but he is to provide me with five ships, two conrois under the command of Sir Miles and two hundred foot soldiers and archers in return. Oh, and I have heard very good reports from my constable at Caen about a man who is now Peverel’s assistant steward. I’m sure he can lend him to me to help organise the fleet.’ He was referring to Gilbert.

  ‘One last thing.’ Odo plucked at the duke’s sleeve as he turned to leave. ‘What about Guillaume Peverel? I know he has the promise of manors in due course but he is without a patron or source of income at the moment.’

  William sighed and replied very quietly, making sure no-one else was within earshot. ‘I have enough sons to plague me without my bastards doing the same. But he has been a faithful servant.’ He looked at Odo for a moment. ‘Do we have an appointment I could give him?’

  ‘You are sending the Archbishop of Rouen, to Rome, aren’t you? Perhaps Guillaume could be in charge of the escort?’

  ~#~

  Hugo was in a quandary. He only had enough money for lodgings and food for Roland and himself and the horses for a couple of months so he had to find employment as a knight within that time. First of all he tried to find Guillaume and Miles but he found out that his former master had just left Rouen for Rome and would be away for months. Miles was also not contactable, being in the mesnie of Lord Peverel at Vengeons Castle.

  During the following week he received two messengers. The first was from his father letting him know that he now had a baby brother named Richard. He send back his congratulations, naturally, but he did so with a heavy heart as it finally dashed any hopes he had left of inheriting Cuille.