The Bastard's Crown

by H A CULLEY

  Hugo raced back to York to bring FitzOsbern the news. William Malet was left to defend the castle - the second one ordered by the king had only just been started - and the earl led out the majority of the garrison on a wide sweep so as to come up behind the advancing host.

  The first that the enemy knew of FitzOsbern’s approach was when they were attacked from the rear by a formation known as the horns of a bull. Caught between the castle and the advancing Normans the English tried to flee but they were trapped. Quite a number did get away but the majority were killed or captured. Unfortunately the leaders, Edgar and Gospatric, were amongst those who managed to escape.

  Having broken the back of the resistance in the north, FitzOsbern left to join the king in the west, leaving William Malet in charge in York. Hugo and his men were free to return to Peak Cavern once more and a few days later they reached the castle high on its plateau above the village.

  ‘Congratulations my lord.’ Emery le Gros greeted Hugo with a grin. ‘It seems you are to become a father.’ Hugo rushed into the Solar where Rowena told him that the baby was due in September. Thinking of the death of his mother, Hugo was all solicitation and fussing until Rowena got so fed up with it that she banned him from the solar in the daytime.

  Spring was replaced by summer which began fading into autumn. Rowena was due any day now and so Hugo’s summons to re-join the king on his march back to York couldn’t have come at a worse time. Edgar and Gospatric had marched out of Scotland again but this time a Danish army under the command of Osbeorn, brother of the Danish king, had sailed up the Humber to join them. Hugo had thought that the two castles at York should be able to hold out until help arrived but William Malet had foolishly sallied out to burn the city. Many of the garrison had been killed and the rest captured, including Malet himself. By the time that the fires had burnt themselves out there was little of the city left; even the minster was a smouldering ruin.

  The Church was also in turmoil. The Archbishop of York was dead and Æthelwine of Durham had joined the rebels. Things had never looked so dire for the king’s control of the north. The day after the messenger arrived Hugo and his men set out for the muster point at Lincoln, leaving behind Rowena who had taken to her bed in readiness for her confinement.

  ~#~

  After Durham Baldwin had joined William Malet’s mesnie and so was one of those besieged in the new timber castle built on top of a large motte. The palisade to enclose the bailey had not been completed when the attack came but the large imposing keep defeated all attempts to storm it for the first few days. Then the messenger arrived in the night with orders to sally forth and burn the city.

  ‘That’s the daftest thing I’ve heard.’ He complained to his friends. ‘We are secure here, the English have no siege engines and the slope is so steep we can pick them off as they struggle up it. Why would we want to put ourselves at risk by leaving here?’ Baldwin had had quite enough of street fighting back in Durham.

  However, luck was with Baldwin and he and a few other knights were left with the archers to hold the keep whilst the rest rode out with flaming torches to burn York to the ground. By midday it was all over. From his vantage point high above the smoking ruin that used to be the city of York Baldwin could see the remnants of Malet’s men being rounded up and taken to the Danish camp a mile to the east. When the English and the Danes resumed their attack on the keep there weren’t enough defenders to keep them from battering at the gate with their axes until finally they won through and the Normans surrendered. Baldwin and his companions were disarmed and beaten before being tied up and led off to the Danes’ camp.

  To Baldwin’s amazement, instead of capitalising on their success, the Danes broke camp and, leaving York behind, marched back to their fleet at the Isle of Axeholme near Doncaster. The Isle was formed by four rivers – the Nene, Don, Trent and Idle. Baldwin and his fellow captives were not ill-treated but food was in short supply and so they were lucky to get a small bowl of gruel a day. This went on for two weeks until one afternoon the alarm was sounded and the Danes rushed out of camp to defend the Isle.

  Two Danes were left to guard them. They were scarcely more than boys, perhaps fifteen or sixteen years of age, and were obviously extremely nervous. The Norman prisoners were normally bound hand and foot but their hands were released so they could eat. As luck would have it they had just started their meal when the alarm sounded; the two youths discussed binding their hands again but couldn’t work out how to do it safely, so they contented themselves with waving their spears menacingly at their captives. They had the sense to keep their distance but when the sound of fighting started they were distracted and Baldwin managed to get into a crouch whilst they were looking over their shoulders towards the sound of battle. One looked back just as Baldwin launched himself at him. Whilst he was wrestling with one Dane his companions brought the other one down but not before he had speared one of the Normans. A minute or two later Baldwin had strangled his Dane and the others had killed the second guard.

  They cut the ropes binding their feet then Baldwin went to see if he could help the archer who had been speared; however he was already dead. Baldwin took one sword and the other knights took the two spears and an axe, which one of the Danes had been carrying on his back. Led by Baldwin they cautiously crept through the deserted camp until they found the larger group of Normans from the other castle, including William Malet. It was the work of moments to kill the four who had been left to guard them.

  Malet then took command and headed away from the fighting until they arrived at a river bank. The knights had been stripped of their armour shortly after capture so it was fairly easy for them to cross the river, those who could swim supporting those who couldn’t. An hour later the sounds of fighting had died away but they continued to head in that direction until they found the Norman camp, where they collapsed exhausted.

  The next day Baldwin watched as Robert, Count of Mortain, another of the king’s half-brothers, met the Danish leader, Osbeorn, to negotiate the terms on which the Danes would leave. Count Robert then marched back to York, or what remained of it.

  ~#~

  King William had arrived at York the previous day to find that Edgar and his supporters had fled back to Scotland. But no sooner had he arrived than a messenger arrived to say that Staffordshire had risen in revolt so, sending Count Robert to deal with the Danes, he had promptly set off again across the country. Hugo felt mild relief that malevolent de Belleme would be on his way to Staffordshire now. He had enough things to worry about with Rowena.

  Ralph sat engrossed in the never ending task of cleaning Hugo’s armour so he wasn’t aware of the boy creeping up behind him until he felt a blow on the head. He fell to one side half stunned and looked up into Siward’s eyes grinning down at him with malevolent pleasure.

  ‘Thought you had got rid of me did you? Well, you haven’t. I ran away and joined the baggage train. Your precious Sir Hugo stole my betrothed so I want revenge. I know he cares about you so I hope he grieves when you’re dead.’ The boy aimed another blow at Ralph’s head but he had left it too late. Instead of speaking he should have been acting. Ralph’s head felt as if it was splitting and he was groggy but he managed to raise his arm to take the blow that was intended to kill him. The force with which the boy brought the cudgel down was surprisingly strong for one so young and he heard his forearm break.

  The pain was excruciating when it came but in the second or so before it hit him Ralph managed to punch Siward hard in the gut with his other hand. The boy doubled over with a whoosh and fell to the floor badly winded. Ralph closed his eyes and concentrated on overcoming the agony he was experiencing sufficiently to pick up the sword that he had been in the middle of cleaning. With a final effort before he fainted he thrust the sword point down, smashing though Siward’s ribcage into his heart.

  The attack on Ralph and the death of Siward were reported to Count Robert who absolved Ralph of any blame. Hugo was vastly relieved at the ou
tcome but he didn’t look forward to telling Cerdic about his son’s death. Ralph would take a couple of months to heal so he decided to make the thirteen year old Sweyn his second squire. Naturally the boy was delighted. From being an unwanted younger son of a poor Saxon churl he was now a squire to a minor lord with the prospect, albeit remote, of becoming a knight.

  The next day Hugo received the news he was desperately waiting for. He was now the father of twin boys and Rowena asked what names they should be christened. After a moment’s thought Hugo sent back to say that he had chosen Robert in memory of his father and Tristan in memory of his friend, and Ralph’s brother, who had died at Senlac Hill. A week or so later he obtained permission to return to Derbyshire and, leaving Roland in charge of his men at York, he rode south with Sweyn proudly leading his destrier and the packhorse as Ralph rode a rouncey beside him nursing his splinted arm.

  ~#~

  In October the king returned and issued orders to lay waste the whole of the north. Baldwin followed William Martel out of York and started the systematic destruction of the crops and the villages. Most of the population fled but those who were found were either killed or sold into bondage. The villages were set ablaze and on some cultivated areas near the sea salt water was spread to poison the land. The harvested crops were taken south and everywhere the Normans left desolation in their wake. It wasn’t something Baldwin felt comfortable about but he still burned with anger about the massacre of his companions at Durham so he stilled his conscience and got on with what he was required to do. They fired the inland villages and arrived near Bridlington at dusk having covered thirty five miles in two days. Behind them as they rode north plumes of black smoke started to dot the horizon.

  As they approached the fishing village a large crowd armed with gutting hooks and the like blocked their way whilst the women, children and the elderly made their escape in the fishing boats. As Baldwin watched two of the boats collided and capsized in their haste to escape and he suspected that most of the occupants then drowned.

  Martel signalled the charge and the villagers were knocked aside like chaff. One managed to lodge his gaffing hook in Baldwin’s wooden saddle and was pulled off his feet to be trampled under the hooves of the following horses. Two more had been cut down by swords and, as the knights wheeled to charge again, the villagers broke and headed off in different directions. Martel didn’t stop his men riding in pursuit so they cut them down as they ran; none escaped.

  Tomas, the knight who had escaped Durham with Baldwin, trotted up to him.

  ‘I have a feeling that your heart is not in this.’

  ‘No, it is not. When I was a child all I ever wanted was to be a soldier, now I just want to live in peace. But this isn’t soldiering.’ He shrugged. ‘Nevertheless we have a job to do so we must get on with it, however distasteful it is. The wind is blowing from the south so we’d better fire the village from that end. Come on, let’s get it over with.’

  When they left there were no buildings left standing, even the fish smokeries had been destroyed. From the safety of their boats the women clutched their children to them and shrieked curses at the knights.

  The inhabitants had managed to escape but, without food and shelter, Baldwin suspected that they would find survival difficult in the cold. When Martel’s men got to Scarborough they found a blackened ruin, though some attempt had been made to start to rebuild the town after it had been destroyed in 1066. But that was Harald Hadrada’s handiwork before the battle of Stamford Bridge, not the Normans.’ They fired the few re-built houses and pressed on northwards.

  As Baldwin halted on the hills above the town of Whitby he looked across at the ruins of the Abbey, destroyed some two hundred years previously by the Vikings. The town itself was bustling with life. He estimated that there were above a hundred people visible and probably a whole lot more in the houses, warehouses along the quay and in other buildings.

  William Martel camped out of sight of the town and called his conroi commanders together after they had had something to eat.

  ‘Right. We wait until dark and then set fire to the buildings on the edge of town. If the wind stays in the north it will quickly spread through the rest. If people try to escape towards us we cut them down. They will be disorientated and disorganised and so should not prove too much of a threat, despite the numbers in the town.’

  Luckily there was a new moon that night so the attackers could see each other and those fleeing. Things went as planned at first but then the numbers swelled and until there was a large mob of them. At first they swarmed round the Normans and Baldwin saw one of the sergeants pulled from his horse and killed; then several pairs of hands grabbed a knight and tried to unhorse him as he laid about him with his sword, then Tomas joined Baldwin and they managed to beat off the attackers before riding clear of the mob. Malet organised his men into a wedge and they charged into the mob scattering them like chaff. When the horsemen turned round to charge back again the crowd started to break up and flee.

  As they perused the fleeing men Baldwin saw a child running across their path. Tomas didn’t see them until too late and rode them down just as the moon went behind a cloud. When Baldwin dismounted he found it was a little girl of perhaps eight; she had been crushed to death. At least it would have been over quickly.

  At dawn the next day Martel gave the order to return to Whitby to finish the job. The road leading to the town was littered with bodies, mainly men but there were several women and the occasional child. Quite a few locals had returned and so there was something of a running battle until they were driven out. The Normans buried their dead in the grounds of the old Saxon abbey and fired the rest of the town before moving on. Baldwin was thankful that Whitby was the last settlement they had to destroy. When they reached the River Tees they found that others had been there before them. A pall of thick smoke lay over the area and even the woodland had been burned down.

  At York the king celebrated Christmas and made various land grants but the havoc wrought was so thorough that only a small percentage of the original population would survive the winter. It would be years, if not decades, before the land and the population would recover.

  In the New Year Hugo re-joined the army at York bringing with him Ralph and Sweyn as his two squires. He had loved playing the proud father for the past three months and was quite reluctant to leave again at the end of the Yuletide celebrations. The one sadness had been that Emery Le Gros had died quite suddenly at the end of November. He had left Roland to take Emery’s place as commander of the garrison at Peak Cavern so he now needed to find a replacement. He decided to go and ask William Martel if there was anyone he could recommend.

  ‘Well you might have a word with Baldwin. He is one of the survivors from Durham and I have been quite impressed with him.’ He was told, so he went in search of the knight.

  Hugo introduced himself and explained that he only had a small mesnie and, as he had a vacancy, he needed a replacement as soon as possible.

  ‘Why me, Sir Hugo?’ Baldwin wanted to know inspecting the handsome man in front of him who didn’t look to be more than mid-twenties.

  Hugo shrugged. ‘You come recommended and, to have survived Durham, you must have a good brain in your head as well as a strong sword arm.’

  ‘I would be happy to join you, of course; but I would be loath to part from Tomas, the other knight who escaped Durham with me.’

  ‘Let me think about it.’ Hugo only needed one more knight to meet his knight’s fees for his manors and they cost a lot of money to maintain.

  The next morning that particular problem was solved for him when FitzOsbern sent for him. When he entered the earl of Hereford’s tent he was surprised to see Gilbert and two more clerks sitting with him.

  ‘Ah, Sir Hugo. I have some good news for you I think.’ Gilbert and Hugo clasped hands, pleased to see each other again. He turned his attention back to the earl.

  ‘Over Yuletide the king has been confiscating estates in
Yorkshire, Durham and Northumberland from the rebellious Anglo-Saxon lords. He has now finished allocating them to his loyal barons. You are to receive several more manors in Northumberland in exchange for four more knight’s fees. They are the honours of Cheviot, Wark, Alkeld, Kirknewton, Redesdale, Otterburn and Harbottle. I’m afraid that you won’t be able to visit your new manors just yet though as we march on Cheshire – the last county to hold out against King William – in two weeks’ time.’ Gilbert looked up from the scroll he was holding.

  ‘The good news is that these manors were largely untouched during the march back from Berwick via Hawick last month.’ Gilbert added. ‘Though I am told it is very wild country.’ Gilbert was referring to the king’s march north to sack the Scottish town of Berwick upon Tweed in retribution for the Scots’ support for Edgar and Gospatric. William had then gone on to subdue Northumberland.

  Hugo was stunned by the news. He now held a dozen manors and Gilbert had told him after the meeting that the area in Northumberland he had been granted was vast, although under populated compared to the south.

  ‘Wark and Redesdale run along the border with Scotland so you will need to build more castles I fear. The magnate holding the border to east of you and to the north of Cheviot is to be the new Bishop of Durham – Walcher - or should I say Prince-Bishop Walcher as this is to be a secular as well as a religious appointment in future.’

  Hugo went and engaged both Baldwin and Tomas but he still needed three more knights to meet his military commitment to the king for his new manors.