by Smith, Skye
"You will not get close, not even into the town. You look like a Dane," she said.
"Then the women must dress me as someone else. Someone with business in the town. Perhaps a horse trader."
Klaes laughed a large rolling laugh. "The Normans are horse thieves. Why would they buy horses from a trader?"
"Then as someone else. But whoever I pretend to be, he must need a horse, for I will need my mare to escape them," stated Raynar.
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The Hoodsman - Frisians of the Fens by Skye Smith Copyright 2010-13
Chapter 6 - The Guard Captain comes to the Travelers Domus in September 1100
Darkness had just settled like a cool mist in the courtyard of the Travelers Domus, when there came a loud rap at the gate. Raynar rose from his seat in the garden and began to walk towards the gate. The watcher was just opening the barred window in the small door and looking out.
They both expected it to be the night watch with questions about the deadly fight in Temple Lane, but it wasn't. The watcher looked at him and told him that it was a captain of the guard from Westminster Palace. By this time Wyl was on the roof with the four junior hoodsmen, and he called down that Temple Lane was filled with horses and was blocked at each end by a dozen or more guardsmen.
There was more rapping at the gate, and this time Raynar looked through the small barred window. He saw the captain of the guard in mail with four men beside him, all taller than the captain. He looked at the captain's face, but it was partially covered by a helmet.
It was the face of a middle aged man, perhaps mid thirties, but still with a youthful healthy flush of someone who enjoyed the outdoors. He had seen that face before in the New Forest just over a month ago. On that day he had tracked down and killed King William Rufus with an arrow to the chest. This captain had been one of William's hunting companions.
He closed his eyes and brought back the scene and then groaned. This was William's brother, Henry, and therefore the new king. He swung the door wide open and stepped back. The watcher tried to step in the way of the four accompanying guards but Raynar told him to back away. He looked up at the roof to make sure that no one was nocking arrows. None were. He signaled to Wyl to come down to the gate.
"We are at your service, Your Majesty." Raynar bowed gallantly. "Ask for anything and it is yours."
King Henry pulled Raynar's shoulder to straighten him up and motioned his men to close the door after them. "Please do not bow. I do not want my identity known on this visit. How did you recognize me? Even some of my guards did not recognize me in this old mail."
"Sire, I have seen you before, but only as a man, never as the King. As I have never been presented to your majesty, I was not blinded to seeing Henry the man. I am Raynar Porter. I presume you are here to visit Master Gregos. He is this way."
Henry turned to the four guards that entered with him. "No one is to enter or to leave, save with my say. Temple Lane is to remain closed to any who do not live on it. Keep the watcher with you to identify the true locals. You, watcher, I am Captain Henry, nothing more, understood?” He turned back to Raynar. "Lead on."
Wyl met them at the corner of the first courtyard. Raynar gave him the old skirmisher hand signal for stillness and then made introductions. "Wyl is the Innkeeper. Wyl, this is Captain Henry from the palace come to visit Gregos. I will show him the way.” The junior hoodsmen were just coming down from the roof, so Wyl guided them away and towards the kitchen. He gave Raynar a hard stare, but knew he would need to wait for an explanation.
When out of earshot Raynar said, "Sire, you walk next to me without a guard. How do you know that you are safe at this Inn?"
"When attacked, Gregos made for here, not the palace" Henry replied. "Gregos has become my right arm. If he is so safe at this Inn, then so am I."
Raynar swung a door wide but quietly. "Gregos is here. The other man is his bodyguard, Risto. Both are drugged and resting. Do you wish me to try to waken him?"
"Try, but gently," whispered Henry. "He looks as white as a ghost. He usually has the deeper color of his race.” Gregos was a Greek from the hot Mussulman Caliphate of Al-Andalus.
"He lost a lot of blood. The wound was a deep puncture close to the liver. The physician cleansed the wound and stitched first the inside, and then the outside. He was confident that Gregos would live."
"A physician left stitches inside. That is not possible. They would fester and poison the man," said a suddenly concerned Henry.
"The physician is a Greek from the island of Kos. The best I know of in London, in the kingdom. Here, this is his card. He is physician to many of the eastern embassies."
"Did Gregos say anything before he slept?" asked Henry.
"He dictated that note to you, in code, and then instructed us in how to deliver it. Then the physician fed him a tincture of the poppy. He slept through the stitching and still sleeps." Raynar bathed the old man's forehead with a cool cloth.
"Can I move him to the palace? I want to be present when he awakes."
"Impossible. I have been told that he should not be moved for as much as a fortnight. I will be sitting with him until his fever goes. What question would you ask of him?"
Henry faced Raynar and looked hard. "I would trust you with the question, but can I trust you with the answer? The answer will cost men their heads. I need to know it exactly. I would rather it be from Gregos's own lips."
"And the question is?" asked Raynar.
Henry took a deep breath and walked to the door and closed it. "This morning Gregos and his clerks and a few of my bailiffs secured London's largest mint. The minter is now in the tower. Gregos was checking the accounts and the stock of coins. He decided that there must be another set of accounts, so he had the guards search. He had them even pull up the floorboards.
They not only discovered the second ledger, but also letters arranging for an attempt on my life. Gregos was bringing the letters to me when he was attacked. There were guards enough with him to block the attack but no more. Thankfully the guards fought well enough to give Gregos the chance to escape. He was followed and set upon again. They took his scroll pipe that contained the accounts and the letters. Only Gregos knows the names on those letters. "
"You need the names from Gregos? There is no other way of knowing?" asked Raynar.
"I would be guessing," replied Henry. "I could guess wrong. The stakes are too high if I miss any or if I blame an innocent. You can be sure that the names will be of powerful men from powerful families."
"Or it could be the Hoodsmen," interrupted Raynar though he knew that no such plot existed with any of his brothers. He had posed the question to gauge the danger that Henry posed to the Hood.
"No, not the Hoodsmen." He looked into Raynar’s eye. "Not the brotherhood. My brother William did not die in a hunting accident as was announced. He was hunted and killed by a Hoodsman. In Winchester before I came to London, my last audience was with the verderer from the Yten Forest who brought my brother's body for burial. I gave him a house for his loyalty.
He told me that he had paced the killing ground carefully when they loaded the body onto the cart. He knew for sure that the killer was a Hoodsman, and that the man had stayed close by the body until the rest of us had left. The Hoodsman could have killed me there and then, but chose not to."
"I will deliver the names to you exactly as Gregos lists them. This I swear."
"You must also swear to protect the old man and his names with your life," demanded Henry. "They will try again. It is now life or death for them. Me or them. Gregos or them."
"I so swear." Raynar crossed himself in the Norman fashion, though he was not himself a believer in the desert god. "Though I think that you are in more danger than the old master. They must assume that he has already passed on the names to you. Take note of any nobles that are suddenly absent from the palace, and watch your back."
"Now you understand," Henry replied, "why it was safer for m
e to come here myself, than to stay in the palace. I have made many wealthy enemies in the past week, and assassins are cheap."
"You must have expected to make enemies when you told Gregos to clean up the corruption in the treasury and the mints. A lot of bankers will have lost a lot of wealth when you forced the minters to use a full measure of silver in their coins, and replace any of their coins that were not full measure. How many minters did you hang last week, six, seven?"
"Aye, and that is just the start. Gregos knows how to eliminate the banker's cut from every coin used to run the kingdom. I need this man to get well, and in a hurry. I need his experience at my shoulder. Even if my enemies didn't want him dead to keep the letters a secret, they will want him dead to keep him from reorganizing the treasury and issuing....." Henry stopped mid sentence. "I have said too much."
"Tally Sticks," Raynar finished the sentence for him. "Gregos sounded out the plan with me before he had his first audience with you."
"Ah, good, then that means you know the importance of keeping him safe."
"He is my old friend. I would keep him safe regardless," Raynar replied and then went thoughtful for a moment. "Even with ladders it will take your enemies time and men to breach these walls. I will post a watcher at the end of the lane. If we are attacked in force, he will have instructions to rush for help from Captain Henry at the palace. If anyone approaches the palace gate asking for Captain Henry, a troop must be dispatched immediately to this inn."
"Agreed, I will arrange it with my guard," replied Henry.
"We took one of the attackers prisoner. He has been attended by the physician and he will not die from his wound. Do you want him?" asked Raynar.
"Need you ask?"
"He is yours then, but he will say much and know nothing," warned Raynar.
"Then he will die."
"He was spared by Risto, Gregos’s bodyguard, for reasons only Risto knows. His life belongs to Risto. Risto is deep in sleep." Raynar pointed to the man in the other bed.
"So be it. He will not die until Risto has spoken for him," conceded Henry.
"Then is our business concluded? May I offer you a safe bed for the night, or perhaps some non-poisoned food and drink?"
"I cannot stay, although I agree with you," replied Henry with a grimace. "Until I know those names, I am likely safer here than at the palace. "
Before they left the room and locked the door, Raynar left a shutter ajar for fresh air. He pointed the way back to the gate. "Perhaps you should surround yourself with Englishmen. They seem to like you more than your own people. Something to do with the promises in your Coronation Charter."
"You are not the first to tell me this. I have just learned that my brother Robert is back in Normandy and he was welcomed by the nobility, and he has much sway over some of my own barons. I hold most of the garrisoned castles there, but for how long?" Henry shrugged his shoulders. " I have no choice but to recruit Englishmen into my army in case I need to meet my brother with force. I especially need archers. Men already trained in the Welsh bow would be a God send."
"I had meant that you surround yourself with English lords, but surrounding yourself with English bowmen would be a good start. I will spread the word," offered Raynar. He looked out through the dark night. "I think you should stay the night. By morning Gregos may be awake."
"I am tempted. No one knows that I have left the palace except for the captain of the guards. I could use a good night's sleep." Henry thought about it some more. "No, it is impossible. My chamberlains will report me missing by first light, and my disappearance may trigger the very revolt I am trying to stop."
Raynar led Henry back to the gate and then took two of the guards to get the prisoner. He and Wyl watched from the roof as all the guards mounted and filed out of the narrow lane and turned towards Westminster. When they were out of sight, Raynar asked Wyl to come with him to sit by Gregos for they had much to discuss.
When they were settled in chairs drawn close to Gregos, and with a goblet of wine each, Raynar told Wyl who the palace captain had been and why he had come.
"Gregos, I might have know," Wyl hissed. "on his first day here you told me that he was a merchant from Al-Andalus in search of sheep stock to breed with his Merinos. Now you say that he is King Henry's wizard of finance. It was not enough that he forced the mints to issue coins of full measure, thus making him the enemy of half of the richest merchants in this city, but now you say that he is installing tally sticks as a method of paying taxes, thus costing the bankers their bite.
So that is the other half of the richest merchants in this city. And it is not enough that so many powerful men wish him dead, " Wyl played with his goblet, "no, it is much worse, for his face is now known to everyone at court. That is to every enemy of the king. Raynar, tonight he put the Domus and its tenants in grave danger by making for here instead of the palace. It would be better if he were no longer a tenant, and no longer here."
"As the innkeeper your words have wisdom that cannot be denied, Wyl," replied Raynar. "But as a founding member of the Brotherhood, they are nonsense. Gregos has access to the inner cabinet of the palace and he speaks freely to us of the happenings, save when he is sworn to secrecy." Raynar sipped his wine. "The tenants are few and wealthy and can leave if they are afraid. The Hood are many and mostly poor. If we can help Henry become the assured king, then the Coronation Charter may be turned into law. The lives of every one of our brothers will be better for it. Better by tenfold.
Gregos has the King's ear, and serves as his right hand for finances. If we expect to use him, then we must expect that he will use us. Well, right now he is using us. We would be fools to deny him." He looked into Wyl's eyes and knew the inn keeper was balancing the effects on the income of the Domus. "Wyl, In one short month, Gregos has become the most powerful banker in the kingdom. The crown's banker. There will be no shortage of coin in exchange for his safety and our help."
Wyl laughed aloud and reached over and ruffled Raynar’s thinning hair. "We have come a long way from the two boys that followed Hereward's skirmishers to spy on the Norse army at Stamford. You, an abbey's porter with a strange bow, and me an innkeeper's son who had never drawn blood. Now the fate of kings and kingdoms rests in our hands."
He looked down at Gregos, who was sleeping fitfully. "I will take the first watch here at his bed. I will call you if there are problems. You go and set up the watch of the walls. The lads brought their bows but they will need a supply armour-piercing arrows. And then get some sleep. I will wake you when the moon finally rises. Go."
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Risto woke at dawn in pain and in a foul mood. Raynar hushed him by pointing to Gregos still asleep in the next bed. He asked a passing orderly to bring a thin porridge from the kitchen, and then he helped Risto to sit up in the bed. While they waited for the food, he replaced the salve and the bandages from each wound.
They were all as healthy as could be expected for new raw wounds. The stitches were neatly done. The salve smelled strongly green. Risto had received two major slashes and eight minor cuts and punctures, all in the front of his body and mostly on or around his sword arm. "They were trying to disarm you by hurting your sword arm." Raynar spoke to him in Greek. English was not easy for Risto and he was too weak to think in translation.
"They would have been disappointed," smirked Risto, "for I am almost as skilled with my left hand. And Gregos, will he survive? He took a deep cut."
"He will survive, but at his age it will take weeks to mend. You, however, we will have to strap down so that you do not re-open your wounds through your restlessness."
"The men that attacked us," sniffed Risto, "were professional assassins. From France perhaps, going by their calls to each other. They will try again. Friend, I would have my sword in bed with me, and a horn to blow an alarm with."
Raynar pointed to a hook beside the bed. Both were already there. "The King has your prisoner for questioning. He has promised to leave him alive
for you."
Risto grimaced as the next bandage was pulled off. "I took him for questioning, nothing more. Let the King do his own dirty work."
Risto sipped at his porridge but refused more poppy tincture. "The pain will keep me awake, and alive. That small crossbow you keep in your bow collection, I would like to borrow it. Please load it and place it on that chest within my reach."
"Perhaps later, when the drug has worn off. In your present state you are more likely to shoot one of the orderlies, or your own foot, than an assassin.” Raynar finished the last of Risto's bandages and then turned to Gregos to do the same.
Afterwards he walked into the garden and found young Sikka waiting for him, eager to here more tales of the homeland he had never seen, the Frisian Fens.
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The Hoodsman - Frisians of the Fens by Skye Smith Copyright 2010-13
Chapter 7 - The Sheriff of Peterburgh, Northhamptonshire in September 1067
The rim of the floppy hat kept falling down over young Raynar's eyes. He impatiently pushed it up for the twentieth time. He stood taller than the women around him. They were inspecting his load of woven rush mats all rolled and laid out neatly, and arguing with his prices.
Meanwhile he was looking over their heads and inspecting the growing crowd in the market square that were pushing forward to see the half-naked and whimpering Normans being led along by the village watch. By the time the strange procession reached the center of the square, there was nowhere else for them to go. People were rushing into the square to see them and all streets were blocked by townsfolk.
He took some coins from one of his customers and she snickered and left with two mats, believing that he had made a mistake with his price. If only she had known that the only reason for these rush mats was to get him through the burgh gate, she could have had three for the same price. He was prepared to ride away from his mats in an instant, if need be.
