Hoodsman: Queens and Widows

by Smith, Skye

  "No,” Margaret banged on the table. A serving girl across the room jumped up thinking she had been called and Margaret told her to sit down again. "Do not, either of you, start swapping warrior tales. I want to hear what Wulfstan is doing about slavery.” She wriggled her other full breast out of her bodice for the child and knew by the gleam in both the men's eyes that she had won her point.

  "He has banned slave markets,” continued Raynar, "Or at least he is trying to ban slave markets. The biggest in England is the one run by the Irish slavers in Bristol. Bond slaves are taken there and their bond is sold to an Irishman, and then the bond slave is put on a ship to Ireland. Once there he is treated like a true slave."

  "But what does banning slave markets do?” she asked. "I don't understand why he would bother."

  "If there is no slave market, then it is very difficult for a bond holder to sell a bond. Think of a turnip seller in the market by the docks. If there were no market, he would have to visit every house to find out who needs turnips. Hmmm, bad example, everyone needs turnips. Ahh, instead of turnips think of things more valuable. Your silk scarf. Without a market, the silk vendor would have to ride to every manor to sell his wares. The effort would eat away the profit."

  "So by making it harder, or even against the law, to sell a bond, then the bond slave and the bond holder must make the best of what is, and keep faith with the original bond.” Margaret waved to the serving girl to come and take the baby to bed, then she slowly and teasingly hid her breasts in her bodice. "This idea I like. I will discuss it with the bishop. Bond slaves become slaves too frequently in this kingdom, and that is about to stop."

  Malcolm groaned. "Your worldly knowledge is a dangerous weapon, Raynar. My nobles will despise me for this."

  "Perhaps, but your folk will adore Margaret for it, as will the church.” He watched as Margaret blushed at his words. When she blushed in this way he always imagined there was a naughty angel living inside her. "I can imagine what Cristina will say. Why didn't you do that ten years ago,” and he said it in a falsetto imitating a bitchy Cristina and all three of them began to laugh, and the laugh became infectious and continued in fits and starts.

  * * * * *

  When Malcolm crossed to Queensferry to ride part way with the small army he was sending to the Tyne, Raynar went with him. Malcolm was nervous about sending such a small force, but it was the most men he could muster on short notice. More would join them, but by then these first men may have already have faced Odo's cavalry.

  They rode up castle rock above Eiden's burg to better watch the column wind away south. From here they had a grand view of the entire firth. "Why haven't you built a fortress here yet,” asked Raynar. "You could keep your palace in Dunfermline and the headquarters of your army here on this side of the firth, and ready to meet Norman armies."

  "Mainly because until William took England,” Malcolm answered, "we were more worried about invasion from the north or from a fleet. You are right, of course, especially now that the Lowden has been filled with all the Daneglish fleeing the Normans."

  "If you are so worried about your own army, why don't we put some fear into Odo's army to make them less confident?"

  "I suppose this means that you have another cunning plan."

  "I couldn't tell you in the palace.” replied Raynar, "for the walls have ears and Odo has many spies. Hmm, perhaps we can use Odo's spies to our advantage."

  "Tell me."

  "You have ten ships in the firth that look like they are from Danish shipyards. What if they turned up in the Tyne flying Canute's pennants. What would the Norman's think about them?"

  "They wouldn't think,” Malcolm replied, "They would run, at least as far as York to prepare the Humber for a Danish invasion."

  "So what should we say tonight at the palace while no one is listening. Perhaps that Canute has heard that his Daneglish subjects are about to be harrowed again in Northumbria, and is sending his fleet to protect them."

  "No,” said Malcolm thoughtfully, "that is not subtle enough. Why not just say that I have given the Danish fleet permission to take on provisions in the Tyne. I will draft a dispatch to that effect. Perhaps I will finally find out which of my scribes works for the Normans.” He began to chuckle, but then stopped. "Since there are no ears about us, what are your intentions towards Margaret?"

  "I have none. Margaret is well pleased with her daughter. Her heart is full to overflowing and she wants no man near her bed for now. I am content with just her company. I was always content with just her company. She is the most educated woman I have ever met."

  "Good, then after you lead my ships to the Tyne, you may return and be welcome.” Malcolm pointed the last of the army column disappearing into the trees below.

  "I never said I would lead your ships,” Raynar objected.

  "Ah but you must. I am a king. I could never take the liberty of raising another king's pennant. Only a raider like you would throw such a brazen insult at the King of Denmark. I will have my captains set their sail makers to making the pennants immediately, for you must be away soon."

  "Very soon. The faster I am to the Tyne, the less time Odo will have for harrowing the folk."

  * * * * *

  "Get your heads down,” yelled the ship's captain at Cristina and her nuns. "The ruse will be ruined if you are seen from the shore.” They were closing on Tynemouth and nuns were as curious as any women. "Bloody women. Do they expect Odo himself to be riding watch on the river mouth. What is there to see save sand bars and cliffs."

  The plan was to sail south of the Tyne and then return to it, but not to enter the river until the signal flags told them to. They needed to be sure that Norman's scouts had seen the ships and the pennants and had ridden to report to Dun Holm. Until the scouts rode south, only the Anske was to enter the river.

  Cristina had fumed that she was refused passage on the Anske with Raynar, but neither he nor Malcolm were too fond of the modification to their original simple plan that Margaret had forced upon them. The Scottish ships were not loaded down with warriors. They were loaded down with food and cooking pots and tents and a hundred nuns.

  Not your well bred convent nuns, mind you, but women who had been widowed by the Norman harrowings and had taken to the cloisters for their own protection. Nuns who were not afraid of a little hard work, like cooking and cleaning and healing. Nuns who had take vows of poverty, and vows to help the poor. They had come to handle the refugees that were expected to flow across the bridge at Gateshead to escape Odo's army.

  The signal did not come until morning. By that time many of the nuns were heaving their guts into buckets due to the swells around the mouth of the river. A large fishing craft came out to meet them, and put a local pilot on each ship to take them through the bars and up the river.

  Once the river narrowed, they could see men on the south bank, and the nuns again ducked out of sight, but the pilots told them that there was no need. Odo's men had run for Dun Holm as soon as they saw the ships. The men now on the south bank were either Scots or Daneglish making sure that none of Odo's scouts had remained behind.

  The Anske was already at the dock at the Gateshead bridge when the nun's ships reached there. Raynar strode down the dock and told Cristina to swing herself over the gunnels and he would catch her. Once in his arms he carried her through the throngs of men who had come to unload the ten ships. Some of the battle-axe nuns were already taking charge and taking measures to limit the pilferage tithe.

  "You can put me down now. I do have legs,” Cristina told him and she wriggled in his arms.

  "Not yet, love,” he said softly into her ear. "I so rarely get a chance to hold you, and it does feel good."

  She relaxed in his arms and stopped wriggling. It was just as well for the track from the dock up the bank had been churned to mud by porters and pack horses and carts. "Our plan for the refugees is not exactly going as planned,” he told her when they were away from other ears.

  "Oh
no, has that devil Odo slaughtered them all?"

  "No, or well, we don't rightly know. There are many fewer refugees than we were expecting. I was talking to Eadulf, one of our men from Dun Holm, and he says it is because Odo rode quickly and almost non stop to relieve the fortress at Dun Holm. It means that he did little harrowing while moving north. Now he has left a stronger garrison at Dun Holm and his army is moving back south, but at a slower pace. It likely means that they are harrowing as they move south."

  "So where are the refugees?” she asked.

  "The refugees that are here were the folk that fled north in front of Odo. Not many did. Most hid. Odo's harrowing is now driving the folk south, away from us. I should have realized that would be his plan. Why destroy food and roofs until you no longer need them. Hopefully most of the folk stayed hidden from him. In any case, for now, you have some refugees to tend, but you must hold your supplies in reserve in case there is a flood of folk once they come out of hiding."

  "Put me down,” she commanded but in a soft voice. He lowered her feet first but she held on around his neck until she had gained her balance. Even then she was slow to release his neck. She kissed him on the cheek. "Did you ever wonder how it would be?"

  "Many times, love, many times. The fates keep throwing us together, and duty or faithfulness keeps us apart. It is the fates jesting with our hearts."

  "Mmmm,” she said with longing while rubbing her chest against his. Then she broke away and stood alone. "Things to do. Is there a barn where we can store and guard the supplies? Do we make camp in the tents or are there houses for us? Where did the refugees camp? Who is in charge here?"

  Raynar called to an older man with a pot belly and a small throwing axe in his belt. "Eadulf, come and meet Abbess-Princess Cristina. The nuns are hers, as are the supplies.” He turned to Cristina, "Eadulf will help you. He is a respected ealder. I have to go and hear what those scouts crossing the bridge have to report."

  * * * * *

  The scouts were of the clan Nesbit. The rest of them were tracking Odo south. If he doubled back, they would ride here immediately.

  "Where is Gregor?"

  "He was wounded trying to steal Odo's battle stallion. He is poorly."

  "Do you know Barrasford?” asked Raynar.

  "The village on the North Tyne, near to Dere Street?"

  "That is the one. Can he make it that far. The women there know well the healing arts. Dere Street crosses the Tyne just south of there at Corbridge. A part of Malcolm's army should be camped there by now."

  "Aye, good idea, and the army is in Corbridge. We have been running scouts south from there,” the scout yelled to his clansmen in a strange language akin to Welsh, and two of them turned their mounts and rode quickly south back across the bridge.

  * * * * *

  Once the nuns were housed and the ships unload, Raynar's commitment to Malcolm was finished. He had his second from the Anske go to each of the Scottish ships and gather Canute's pennants. Malcolm had told him to burn them after the ruse, but instead he was going to keep them safe on the Anske.

  "You cannot leave,” complained Cristina. She had followed him through the mud, onto the dock, and then up Anske's gang plank. "I do not trust the other ships to wait for us if you leave. Do you think I wish my nuns to march back to Dunfermline?"

  Raynar shrugged his shoulders. "My work here is done. My promise to Malcolm is fulfilled."

  "Dammit, man, I need you here. I trust your bowmen to guard my women. You, yourself, know enough about healing to put any of my women healers to shame. I order you to stay.” She regretted the order as soon as she mouthed it. "Oh, that was wrong of me. You are not Malcolm's man that I can command you so."

  "I am not Malcolm's man, but I am Margaret's. Ask me again, but this time ask me as Cristina, not as some noble woman."

  She stood stock still and looked at him. Anger and command slowly left her face. She stepped closer to him and rested her forehead against his chest. "Raynar, please stay and help me to help the refugees.” He put his arms around her and hugged her to him. She felt him turning his head to look back at the Anske. She felt him place his hands over her ears as if she were a little girl and he were trying to protect her from profanities.

  He whistled shrilly, first low then high then low. The men onboard all looked towards him. "New orders, lads. Tie the Anske up and grab your bows. Your new duty is to protect the nuns from harm. Don't kill anyone if you can help it, and don't bed any nuns unless they ask you to."

  Cristina stayed in his arms and whispered "Thank you."

  "You are welcome, love, but next time you need me, just ask. Save your bossiness for if I ever actually refuse you."

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  The Hoodsman - Queens and Widows by Skye Smith

  Chapter 21 - The Lady of the Bridge at Gateshead in July 1080

  The Anske had been tied up for almost two months. The needs of the refugees, especially the women and children, were never ending. Five of the Scottish ships had been sent back to Margaret for more supplies, especially winter cloaks, for many of these folk had fled in summer clothes. The other five ships were tied up behind the Anske, just in case the nuns themselves needed to flee.

  Raynar did daily rounds with some of the nuns to help the injured. The most important work that Cristina's nuns were doing, however, was in reuniting families and finding the kin of all the orphans.

  Walcher's old garrison at the fortress of Bamburgh had finally surrendered to the siege by the Daneglish exiles who had followed the Scottish army south. The terms included safe passage to Dun Holm.

  Meanwhile the Nesbit clan was keeping an eye on the garrison at Dun Holm. When that garrison went foraging, they did so in great force for their own protection. The Nesbits would ride in front of them warning the folk to clear out of the way before the garrison ever reached them.

  Malcolm visited his army only once. He came with the next load of supplies. He did not like to see the effect that Norman armies, any armies, had on women and children, and soon left to go back to Dunfermline. Just after he had left, a large party of Norman scouts arrived at the south end of the bridge and demanded to cross. The captain of the bridge guard sent them on their way to bring back someone in authority to do the asking. It was these same Norman scouts who first told them that Robert of Normandy, William's eldest son, was leading the Normans.

  When Robert and his knight commanders reached the bridge under a white flag of parley, the only person standing on the southern end of the bridge was a tall, straight woman dressed like a nun. Cristina.

  "Let us pass, woman,” ordered Robert in poor English. "I am regent here. Stand out of the way."

  All the woman did was raise one hand and immediately a score of bowmen stood up from behind the bulwarks of the bridge. Cristina replied in perfect French, "The other regent, Odo, bravely slaughtered women and children. How will you fare against trained bowmen."

  Robert backed his horse behind his knight commanders and ducked low. He had seen longbows like these used in Gerberoi on the border between Normandy and France. He suddenly felt naked in his costly armour. Raynar, amongst the bowmen, also backed behind his men. He really did not want to be recognized by Robert.

  Another woman's voice called out for men to get out of her way, and a quick step pony pulled around the knights and moved towards the bridge, "I am the Queen Matilda of the English. Your bowmen do not frighten me. Who are you, woman, that you would block my way?"

  "I am Cristina of Wessex. My sister, Queen Margaret of Scotland, has sent me here with a hundred nuns to tend the women and children that your Odo has harrowed. Is Odo with you, for if he is, I will surely order my bowmen to shoot him down like a mad dog."

  "These are my lands,” replied Matilda. "You are here without my permission."

  "These are no mans lands,” replied Cristina, "for Odo has turned them into waste land.” Despite the hostility between the two women, Cristina reached forward and
helped Matilda dismount. The queen came barely up to her shoulder. "I forget myself, your majesty. Would you like to sit and rest with wine and bread."

  "Yes I would, thank you.” There was no fear in Matilda's voice. She knew enough about the men that carried such bows that they were more likely to protect her, a woman, than to harm her. Besides that, almost everyone else on the north side of the bridge were nuns and other women.

  Cristina stood tall and looked towards Robert. "Go east along the south bank and you will come to the ruins of a church. That is Gateshead, where Bishop Walcher died. You may camp there and wait for your mother.” She did not wait for a reply, but instead took the older woman's arm and walked her north towards the line of nuns who were nervously looking on.

  She motioned Raynar, who seemed to be hiding his face, to come with them, but he shook his head in refusal and in his place he pushed his second forward.

  She purposefully led Matilda the long way to her quarters, so that she could see the numbers and the dire straits of the refugees, and the sorrowful wounds that some of the children carried. When they passed two young girls and a young boy sitting on a bench in the sun and just staring without seeing, Matilda asked "And why have they not been put to work?"

  "They have lost their minds. They watched their father slaughtered, and their mother raped and then slaughtered, and then Odo, himself, used them horribly. Just for their sake, without all the others, I would order my bowmen to spit that devil."

  "Yes, I have seen bowmen like these in action in Normandy,” said Matilda and motioned the second to catch up. "Have this one join us for drinks."

  Once they had washed and settled at a plain wooden table, and were sipping some warmed wine, Matilda asked, "So what really happened to Bishop Walcher, for I have heard many conflicting stories."

  Cristina turned to the second and said in English, "You were at the church that day. Answer your queen. How did Walcher die?"