by Smith, Skye
Though we are gathered in this great church to remember him, he was not a good churchman. He believed that God would not fit inside, or would not bother to fit inside the paltry structures of man. He therefore did not worship as a Christian, but instead he lived as a Christian. He worked tirelessly to bring peace to this shire, and then to keep the peace in this shire.
I therefore ask, that those of you who brought coin to leave in this church as an offering for Thorold, instead give it to your poorest enemy and tell him that it is a gift from Thorold to provide milk for his children. Thank you. Please leave me alone now with my husband."
The abbot jumped to his feet in anger at her words, which would cost this abbey dearly, but one look at the Frisian warlord Klaes who was helping the widow down from the pulpit, and at the wolveshead Raynar, who was holding the face of the weeping daughter into his chest, and he knew that speaking any words could easily be the last draw of his breath. Even with Ivo Taillebois, the current Sheriff of Lincolnshire, sitting in the front row, and angry words by him would be suicide.
The murmur of voices grew louder as the folk discussed and came to understand what she had said, what Thorold's last wish was. The service was finished. The words were said. Folk began to file outdoors. The coins that each man held in his hand ready for the collection boxes, were being returned to their purses or were being handed to others in the church. As more men handed coins to the poor, the murmur became a din that echoed around the stone walls.
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Any of the men at the table would have been foolish to stand in front of Klaes at that moment. He was on his feet in Beatrice's dining hall, with dagger drawn and ready to rip the throat out of the man who had just spoken. Luckily both Beatrice and Judith were sitting between Klaes and Ivo, and they both stood and stared him down. Only when Klaes had taken some deep breaths and looked around at the shocked looks on the faces of the other diners, did he allow Raynar to pull him back to their shared bench.
"Klaes,” Beatrice said firmly. "Sheriff Ivo has made a generous offer, and though it is perhaps a bit inappropriate to offer to marry a widow but days after a funeral, that can be excused because he must soon return to his duties in Lincoln."
"Klaes,” said Ivo in poor but passable English, "I meant no disrespect, but these are lawless times with the king and so many nobles gone for so long to Normandy. Beatrice is now a wealthy English widow, and we all know tragic stories about what happens to wealthy widows these days.” He looked at Judith for confirmation. "We do not need to wed immediately, but if we read the bans then she will be protected from other suitors. Since I am sheriff, she will be protected against even violent suitors."
"Protection,” exclaimed Klaes, "She does not need your protection. There are five hundred bowmen within a half days march of here who would protect her against the hounds of Hades."
"Our betrothal would have balance, for Thorold was a long serving sheriff of Lincolnshire, and so will I be. It will be acclaimed and not contested. Besides, English bowmen cannot protect her against Norman law,” explained Ivo, "or against Regent Odo. If Odo sends her a husband, and your bowmen kill him, his armies will rip this shire to pieces."
"They tried that once before,” muttered Klaes, "remember Ely. We don't fear your armies."
Beatrice banged her hand down on the table, "I fear his armies. I have nursed too many dying children. I never ever, ever want to see the effects of another harrowing. With Thorold gone, who would help the folk to rebuild their villages the next time."
Klaes looked at the man beside him. "Raynar, you are strangely quiet through all of this. Tell this sheriff to fuck off."
"I cannot, Klaes, for I have just spent two years watching Judith try to escape a forced betrothal, and she is William's niece, and she had a champion in Robert of Normandy, and still it had to be settled by lawyers."
There was silence around the table. At the first sign of anger, the maids had hurried the children from the room so there were not even small voices to break the tension.
"How was it settled, Judith?” asked Beatrice softly. "for you did not want to marry again, and though you are still a widow, no one approaches you with offers or force."
"A contract was drawn up between me and Simon de St. Liz, the man William betrothed me to. With Normans the issue is always the land ownership, so the contract gave me ownership until I die or until I marry someone else. My betrothal was switched to Maud but it cannot be consummated while I live and until she is of age. In other words, no one can gain my lands save for Simon, but he has no rights while I live."
"I am surprised you are still alive, then,” scowled Klaes.
"He is sworn to stay out of our lives until I die. It would be suicide for him to harm me. If Maud is still young when I die, then he becomes her guardian until she is sixteen, and then he becomes her husband."
"Do you now understand my reluctance to speak,” said Raynar grimly. "Even with Robert, the king's son and heir, as her champion, this, this bullshit, is the best they could do. Judith calms me every day by telling me that Simon is old and an adventurer and will never outlive her. However, in the meantime, it must be said that she does run her own lands and affairs, and can speak in court as a man."
"I cannot pretend that I am not interested in the land,” said Ivo, "of course it is about the land, but I have always admired you Beatrice, and I would cherish you as a wife. Besides, Winchester would never allow your lands to pass into Frisian or Danish hands, so you must choose a Norman."
"I cannot marry you Ivo,” replied Beatrice, "I can no longer bear children. I don't want to live in Lincoln anymore. I have no interest in the courts of nobles. I want to be left alone to run my lands and my villages, free to stand knee deep in the stream helping my women with the laundry if I so wish."
Judith clapped her hands and hugged her friend. "Oh Beatrice, I said the same thing to Robert. We are happy here, running our villages. Why won't everyone just let us get on with it."
"Then I will have some lawyers copy Judith's contract and put our names on it,” offered Ivo. "I will sign such a contract and will be joyous to have Lucy as my wife when she is of age. I will swear before the Pope himself, that I will help you to live a long and peaceful life as the countess."
"Klaes, shush now,” said Beatrice, "Thank you for your offer Ivo. I will think long and hard about it, and discuss it with my friends.” she gave stern looks to all her guests, "may I have the children brought back now?"
When Lucy came back she walked up to Ivo. "Are you going to be my new father?"
"No,” said Ivo softly, "but if your mother ever dies, I would be like a father to you."
"Well I don't need you,” she said and ran to her own seat. "Klaes and Raynar are already like fathers to me, and they take me riding and let me steer their ships."
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The Hoodsman - Queens and Widows by Skye Smith
Chapter 16 - Robert leaves for Caen from Cornwall in October 1103
Henry and Ranulf joined Captain Raynar on his ship when he towed Robert's huge cog out of Tamara Sound to where it could catch the wind for it's crossing to Caen. They had extra oarsmen aboard to spell each other off in shifts, as they needed to tow the cog somewhat against the wind.
"That is Saint Michael's island,” Ranulf mentioned as they passed by a rugged, rocky island that during yesterday's sea battle had almost cost them the cog and Raynar's other ship.
"Perhaps I should have a monastery built there,” Henry replied. He owed much to the monastery of Mount Saint Michel in Normandy, for it had given him sanctuary in the bad old years when he was alone and defenseless and being hunted by his brothers. He waved to the cog, to his eldest, now his only brother.. He had never liked the little prick. Worse than that, Robert was incompetent, so he had no illusions that he could trust him to rule Normandy. Especially not now that both the Bellemes and the Mortains had fled England for Normandy.
"There is already
a monastery of Saint Michael in Cornwall,” said the local navigator who was standing nearby at the steering oar. "Ours is built on a rocky hillside on a low and fertile valley just this side of Land's End, or at least it used to be a valley. The year before your lordship was made king, the valley was washed away by a giant wave. Quite terrible it was. The villages were all swept away in an instant, and with no warning save that first the sea pulled far away from the land like the lowest tide imaginable, and then the sea came back with a merciless flood."
"Hmm, of course,” replied Henry with a nod of thanks to the man for the knowledge, "yes, I have heard something like this before. And now, after the terrible storm on Saint Lawrence's day, how do the fishing villages of Cornwall fare?"
"They are in ruin, ain't they,” replied the navigator. "It was in August and without warning and much too early for the warm southern blows. Drowned many a man and his boat. Worse, the fishing villages were swept away by the floods. You see, all of the fishing harbours in Cornwall are at the mouths of rivers. The rivers had mighty floods from that storm. I heard tell that the sheep drowned in the rain because they were so stupid that they looked up at it."
Raynar was pacing. He was worried about Edith and her children, including her new baby William, the heir, back in Winchester. Duke Robert had told them last night that Launceston Castle had been almost deserted when he reached it, and had flung their gates open to him. This meant that news of Mortain's flight to Normandy was old news to the folk of these parts. He wondered how many of Mortain's spies and assassins that should have been captured at Launceston, were instead on their way to Winchester.
There was a whistle from the bow to catch their attention, and then a call of "fair winds.” They all looked behind them at Duke Robert's cog, and sure enough, there was activity with the sheets and sail cloth.
"Keep rowing until she gains on us to loosen the tow lines,” Raynar yelled out. That turned out not to be until a mile further on, but then the tow lines were slipped and the tow ship raised her own sail and swung out of the way of the cog. The oars made the tell tale sounds of thunking and scraping as they were drawn inboard, and then the oarsmen all took a rest by leaning back against the oars shipped behind them.
Henry waved fare-thee-well to his incompetent brother, and then called out to the navigator, "Lets use the fair seas and fair winds to show me the rest of the sound, especially any fortresses or harbours."
The navigator looked towards Raynar for the nod. Henry may be the king, but he was not the captain. On a ship you only jumped to the order of a captain.
Raynar did not mind exploring Tamara Sound and it's many inlets. This was a wonderful harbour, and strategic, and one that the king should keep for himself and not honour it out to a baron. Unfortunately they were seeing it at it's worst. The horrific wind and rain of August tenth had blown apart roofs and buildings and docks, and had flattened all crops just before harvest. There was a sparsity of boat traffic on these waterways, whereas the villages around it normally would be well connected by boat.
Henry looked at a castle they were coming up on and asked, "Do you suppose that if I got some of Mortain's men that we captured yesterday on the cog, and took them with me, that the castle would surrender without costing more lives."
Raynar gave Ranulf a look of panic at these words. Ranulf must have shared the same fears for he was quick to say, "Sire, those men we captured were close to Mortain. They were his henchmen. I do not trust any of them not to be a spy or an assassin. I don't want them anywhere near you, never mind freed from their chains. Let them cool their heals in a lockup for a month to ponder their fate."
"Look around, Henry,” said Raynar. "You have bigger problems than taking a castle. What does it matter who holds the keep, if the folk all around it starve and freeze this winter. That bloody storm hit Cornwall and Devon much harder than Hampshire. You need to help these folks. Once they see you helping them, they will follow your banner rather than Mortains. All Mortain ever did was take from them."
"What do you suggest?"
"Well for one thing, you have to do something about the army you brought here. Right now they are making things worse for these folks. They are eating what is left of their food, and taking up what is left of their roofs, and are a constant reminder to the folk that at anytime they may be looted. As a result the folk are keeping their tools and valuables and women hidden and not doing a lick of the work that needs to be done before winter. If you hurry with some good orders, there is still time to turn that around before winter."
"Turn it around how?” Henry asked. "I have no choice but to travel about and secure the parishes under my charter, and authorize the moot courts. I need the army close to me while I travel through the villages. It is the way of armies to be like locusts as they move."
"Your Norman style cavalrymen are all as useless as tits on a bull,” Raynar replied, "but the rest of your army is not. They are village lads and have other skills besides bow and pike. Send them out in patrols to help the villages. Begin with the fishing villages. They are missing boats and men, and yet it is their fish that are needed to feed the shire until the farms recover. Order the patrols to offer their backs and their skills to help the fishermen. Help rebuild roofs and docks and roads. Help drag the blowdown trees from the forests to the coast where they can be used in the rebuilding. Have them help rebuild the fishing fleets."
Henry had a quick mind, and already it was way ahead of Raynar's thoughtful words. "Of course, and while they are helping to get the folk ready for the winter, they can scout every village and take word of my charter and help empower the elders who must form the new moots. That would leave me free to concentrate on the troublemakers and the market towns. What do you think of this Ranulf?"
Ranulf smiled. "My wife is Lucy of Spalding from the Fens. They still have a strong sense of communal in the Fens. Whenever there is trouble like this, Lucy snaps her fingers and useful men mount up, or march off to help with the fixing. Whenever I travel with my own court across the North, Lucy provides my escort. Useful men with powerful bows who are eager hands whenever help is needed."
"And what of my cavalry?” asked Henry. "As you say, with Mortain fled and his henchmen already in chains, there will be little fight left in the rest of his men. I won't have much need of my cavalry. Without a fight to keep them busy, they will range about and do much damage for naught."
"Send them North with me,” replied Ranulf, who was Henry's governor of the North. "If the northern shires need to feed the southern shires this winter, then there will be endless carts using the highways and endless temptation for footpads. I will split the cavalry into small patrols and they can keep the highways safe for those carts."
"Why is it that I can meet for days with my lords and commanders and no decisions will come forth save for the decision to eat or drink, and yet a short discussion held while leaning over the gunnels of a ship, will set a plan in motion for an entire winter."
There was no answer to the question, so they all gazed out at the scenery floating by. Inside, however, Raynar's gut was churning as he continued to worry about Edith's safety, far away in Winchester. Why was it that whenever one of his women was at risk, he was always far away.
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The Hoodsman - Queens and Widows by Skye Smith
Chapter 17 - With Queen Edith in Winchester in October 1103
Raynar puffed up the pillow on his seat and then sat down on it again. His arse hurt from too long in the saddle returning from Cornwall to Winchester. Although he had agreed that Henry had more need of his two fast ships than he did, he still hated that this meant that he had been forced to ride so far at his age. There was no alternative to horseback, of course, because most of the roads still had not been repaired from the great flooding rains of that damnable August storm, so by cart it would have taken weeks.
"Would you be more comfortable laying down?” asked Edith with a smirk. The words sounded more li
ke the cliché of a courtesan bent on seduction, than those spoken by a good wife to one of her fathers.
A good looking though diminutive lass, one of the queen's ladies in waiting, offered, with a Welsh accent, to go and get another pillow for him. Raynar watched the lovely teen dance out of the room, but caught her silhouette through her silk gown as she went through the door. "Is she with child?” he whispered to Edith so others would not hear.
Edith was sitting beside him at the table, and now leaned closer to his ear. "Yes, though she hides it well. About five months now."
"So her wedding is soon then?” he asked, but her stare back was not amused. "Oh. Who is the father then?"
"Need you ask? She was the prettiest of the ladies attending me when I became too heavy with little William to share a bed with Henry. Five months means that he must have bedded her the same day I refused him. Now I will have yet another of his children to care for."
He looked away from her so she could not read the thoughts on his face. It was well known that her husband was easily seduced by young and comely women. This was not news. Henry had two children by mistresses who were almost teens. To her credit, Edith had taken them all to her heart, and into her household, and treated them as befitted any child of her loving and loved husband.
When he could trust his face again, he asked, "So who is she. Her voice and look seem to be Welsh, but I suppose that means she could as well be from Cornwall or from Brittany."
"Welsh,” Edith muttered trying to get back to her writing. "She is Princess Nest of Deheubarth, and the last of that line."
