Hoodsman: Forest Law

by Smith, Skye

  "Come, come now. Robert is a knight and well trained in weapons. He can defend himself,” Gertrude pointed out.

  "Against Raynar few men would last ten seconds.” replied Roas.

  "I agree with Roas,” stated the count. "I have seen him fight. I have seen him lead men into battle. I have seen he and his bowmen slaughter the finest of Frankish knights, the best heavy cavalry in Christendom, as if they had been teenage squires. Raynar did all of that for me at Cassel and since then there has been no threat on our borders by anyone's heavy cavalry.” He smiled at Roas to ease her fears, "The truth will save Robert. Go now and bring Judith here. No one else. Just Judith. She most of all and first of all, must hear the truth."

  * * * * *

  Judith was shown into the count's office by one of his clerks. Gertrude was already there. There was no one else. It was certainly not the court presentation that she was expecting as her entrance to Brugge palace.

  "You look well, Judith, despite the rough crossing,” Robert began as he gave the clerk a hard stare and closed the door firmly. "I have not seen you since before your marriage, when I visited your father to discuss my claim to this county.” Judith was the daughter of one of the neighbouring counts, Lambert of Lens, who was the younger brother of Count Eustace of Boulogne. Together those two counties created a buffer between Flanders and Normandy.

  "May I present my good wife Gertrude. She is regent here when I am absent, and I sometimes think that Flanders would be better run if I were absent more often.” The count held one woman’s hand in each of his own and led them to the long couch that ran along the far wall of his office. They all sat together with Judith in the middle.

  Gertrude took one of Judith's hands in hers and felt the roughness of the skin. On a whim she switched to the Frisian tongue and said "The ship and crossing were hard on your hands."

  Judith gave her a weak smile and answered in Frisian, "Barely a week ago I was knee deep in the river with all my women, washing out all of our bedding. How else would you use two days of bright sunshine after the endless rains we have endured."

  Gertrude smiled at Judith and then at her husband. She liked this woman for the same reason she liked Roas. She was useful. Rarely had she met a Norman who could speak Frisian, and never ever had she met a Norman noblewoman who would stoop to wash wool, no matter the need. She nodded to her husband to continue.

  "Roas dropped by a few hours ago and she mentioned your argument with your uncle William about marriage plans.” he began, "You are welcome here in Flanders, as are any folk who flee your uncle's violent hands."

  "Thank you, your grace,” Judith demurred, "Raynar has often told me of your skills at diplomacy and administration. He often blesses your skills for bringing peace and therefore abundance to Flanders."

  "I am glad you mentioned Raynar. I owe him much, perhaps my entire county. Roas also owes him much. She fears that Robert of Normandy will now ride here from Paris to claim you and his child.” He said it matter of factly. Judith drew a deep breath which hissed through her nose, and she lost her smile, but she did not interrupt. "Do you wish Robert dead? If you do nothing about his coming, then I fear that will be the outcome."

  "No,” Judith replied too loudly, "no, I do not wish that."

  "Tell us all, child, so that we may help you gain your wishes,” whispered Gertrude. "You are a widow hard pressed, and need our help. You must be honest with us so that our help does not go awry."

  Judith was slow to speak. She reminded herself that this man was the elder brother of Queen Matilda of the English, the wife of her uncle William. He would know now much about her family and her uncles family, so she must speak the complete truth, or risk being caught out.

  "Robert and I,” Judith began. She spoke to Gertrude, not to Robert. "well I was very young. I was visiting my uncle and your sister in Caen. Robert was my first love and we enjoyed the romance of youth that all young people have the right to. You have lived with the the Frisians, ruled them, so you understand and allow it. In Normandy no. At least not amongst we nobles. Robert was already experienced with women. I was, as I have said, very young. We were caught out and he claimed me for his wife. The duchess, your sister Matilda, had her midwives, er, inspect me, and they discovered that I was with child. Robert's child."

  Gertrude put an arm around Judith and pulled her close. Judith continued, "Robert was forbidden my hand. We are first cousins. The priest called our joining an abomination and threatened us with excommunication. Waltheof was at the court at that time, looking for favours. I was given to him. Wedded to him. I fought him off so he raped me. I always fought him so he always raped me. I don't know if he knew. About my being with child already, I mean. Perhaps he did. It would explain much about how badly he treated me.” She had to stop and dry her eyes and blow her nose.

  "They were wrong." Judith continued. "The priests and the midwives were wrong. Our daughter Maud is not an abomination. She is beautiful, she is smart, and by God she is complete. Perhaps the midwives were wrong. Perhaps she is not Robert's but Waltheof's. I must meet with Robert, and soon. I have never known Robert as an adult. He will have changed as I have changed. For God's sake, I have mothered three and I am now widowed. Until we meet, until we hold each other, until we talk, we will never know if we have a future together.

  What do I wish? That was your question. What do I wish? I wish to be safe and happy. Since Waltheof was imprisoned I have been living as a Frisian woman in Huntingdon. I have known much happiness there. Will I be that happy with Robert? I don't know, but he is the best ally I have if I want to return to Huntingdon without fear of betrothal to another pig chosen by my uncle."

  "Calm yourself now,” Robert said kindly, "and let me tell my story. It is about my sister Matilda, now Queen of the English. She was always small. When she was young she used her small size to her advantage by pretending to be younger than she was. She was pretty and young looking and kept her hair in two long blonde braids like the teens do in Frisia.

  She played the part of a young teen until she was past twenty. By then she was near to being an old maid and still not married and still pretending virginity. She refused all matches, and in Flanders a father often indulges a refusal. Our father doted on her. Like all older men, he was blinded to her real age by her teenage looks.

  Matilda was a beauty though, and older men did look, and lusted after the vision of virginity. She was no virgin. Virgins are rare amongst Flems and Frisians. One spring, Gerbod of Saint Omer let lust belay his senses and he abducted her and ahh, took her. William, your uncle, was visiting Brugge at the time. He was young then, and a new Duke, and had come to ask my father to be his ally.

  William was enraged by Gerbod's effrontery to my family and he hunted him down. Or perhaps he was just trying to impress my father. Gerbod, once hunted down, claimed it was not rape, but an honourly betrothal by rape. William challenged him, but Gerbod refused to fight William for Matilda. He, William, brought her back to Brugge and their journey back here took days longer than it should have. When they did arrive, William claimed her as his own bride based on them already having shared a marriage bed.

  This time it was our father who refused the match. Young William was a bastard child, and not likely to hold his duchy for much longer. Matilda, meanwhile, had been swept away by the romance of being rescued from a fate worse than death by a knight in shining armour. William pretended to leave the palace without her, but she slipped passed the guards, and with only the clothes she was in, her nightgown at that, she leaped up behind him on his saddle and they rode off together."

  It was a good story, and true. Everyone in Flanders knew it, though few in Normandy. He could see that Judith was too distracted to be patient through the longer version of the story, so he cut it short and got to the point.

  "Robert,” he announced, "is Gerbod's child, not William's. My family knows it. Gerbod's family knows it. Matilda knows it, and by now, even William must know it. Robert perhaps does not k
now. You and Robert are cousins in name only, not blood. That is why your child by him is perfectly formed. William will never agree to your betrothal, for to do so would mean admitting that Robert, his heir, is a bastard like himself."

  Judith was stunned. She did not trust herself to speak.

  "If you do not believe me,” said the count, confused by her silence, "I can arrange for you to ask Gerbod's son, who is also named Gerbod. He is my prisoner. Well actually he is Raynar's prisoner on behalf of Rachilde of Mons. Umm, He, ahh strangled her son, my nephew, Arnulf during the battle of Cassel. The pope is now involved. His plea is for me not to cut off the hands that did the strangling, but instead to send him to a monastery."

  It was the wrong thing to say. "You are telling me that Raynar holds Robert's half brother prisoner until death,” Judith cried out before she turned her face into Gertrude's shoulder and wept heavily.

  "Judith,” he said gently, "listen to me. There is one person who may be able to help you with both Robert and Raynar and calm everything until you rediscover Robert and decide the direction of your futures. I will send a letter to Philippe of France and ask him to send our daughter Bertha here to visit with her mother. I will suggest that Robert lead her escort. Where Bertha goes, Gesa goes, and Gesa may be able to help you."

  Gertrude was waving for him to stop talking. Judith sat up and asked, "So who is this Gesa?” Gertrude waved even harder to gain his attention and make him stop talking. Men are so stupid.

  "Gesa is Bertha's best friend, and her bodyguard,” he replied "But more important, she is Robert's current mistress, and before that, while she was in Brugge, she was Raynar's mistress."

  It was the wrong thing to say. Judith erupted in open tears, and Gertrude grabbed at her so that she would not slide onto the floor. "You knuckleheaded Flem, go away. Leave us. Go. And don't you dare send for Bertha. Philippe won't let Bertha leave Paris now in any case. He is bouncing her all over the palace trying to get her pregnant. He certainly won't let her ride here with a ready lance like Robert."

  It was the wrong thing to say. The count crept through his hidden doorway to escape the illogic of women, and the endless sobbing of Judith.

  Gertrude rocked Judith gently in her arms. She was mother to many, and motherly to all. Once the sobbing stopped she whispered, "All this heartache and mischance caused by secrets and lies. You live as Raynar's wife. You know him better than me, but I think you must tell Raynar the truth, the whole truth of this. Robert I don't know. How much you tell him is your choice, but tell Raynar all."

  Judith’s head was nodding, so Gertrude whispered more, "Ask Raynar to stay in Oudenburg while Robert visits you in Brugge, and make sure Hereward and Klaes know to keep them apart. The widow in the house next to Roas in Oudenburg often plays wife to Raynar when he is in port. He can stay with her again."

  Judith began sobbing again, so Gertrude chose not to tell her more truths at this time. Truths such as that Gesa had born a daughter by Robert a year ago, or that Raynar had bought that house next to Roas and had given it to Captain Ulkse's widow when the man's ship was lost at sea, or that the widow had been ten years younger than her husband and was one of the most handsome women on the Frisian coast.

  * * * * *

  "So all these tears and tempers are not my doing. They are not my fault then.” Raynar told Judith, trying not to show his relief by smiling.

  "You can read his letters if you wish. They are there on the table,” Judith sobbed, "Oh Raynar, I am so sorry, but there is no other way. Even if you and I marry in a church, William will not accept it and will, at the very least, strip me of my honours and then my villages will be at the mercy of a new Norman Earl."

  "But you are not angry with me. It was nothing I did,” he could not believe his luck. He had been wrung through women's emotional insecurity before and he would rather charge into a shieldwall than repeat the experience.

  "You must promise me that you will not harm Robert. Maud is his birth daughter. Harming him will harm her. Please just stay with your old widow in Oudenburg and pretend to be just the sea captain who brought me safely away from England."

  He hid his smile from her. She was condemning him to the most coveted bed in Oudenburg and ordering him to be himself. He had stretched his cheeks by yawning to remove the smile before he turned back to her to speak, "I will try my best, love, and I promise no harm to Robert."

  She noticed that he had turned away and hoped the anger he was trying to hide from her would soon cool. She had only one more boon to ask, so she asked it. "And Gerbod, you must not harm Gerbod, for it may be that he is Robert's half brother."

  Raynar grimaced at the mention of that slime bucket Gerbod. "I have washed my hands of Gerbod. His future or lack of a future is at Rachilde's pleasure. So long as he is not freed he need not fear me.” He took a breath and softened his tone, "Love, we have both lived as a Frisian couple. Our time together was the Fates doing, and I will never regret it. Your time with Robert was also the Fates doing. Their weaving of the threads of irony in all of this is unmistakable."

  "We were young lovers, you see, and confused. The count has told me that our love was not a sin. He is not my blood cousin. There is probably nothing left of our young love, but we won't know that until we meet. My greatest hope is that William will be swayed by his heir and withdraw my betrothal to Simon. And if not, then the worst case is that he refuses and so, no change."

  "No, the worst case is that Robert becomes the Earl of Huntingdon and your people will still be at the mercy of a Norman Earl. The worst case is that he bonks you all over Brugge, and when he has filled you with another child, leaves you again.” He immediately regretted his words. She was already too upset to hear more truth. "No, don't cry,” he kissed her tears. "I enjoy being a father to your children, and I would be as loving to another."

  It was the right thing to say, and he was well rewarded in their bed. All the while that she was in his arms he wondered if he should tell her of Robert's mistress Gesa. Especially since Gesa and Robert now had a daughter. A daughter who Gesa had named after her mother, Inka. Inka, the Frisian seer who was burned as a witch in Ely by the Conqueror's priests. Many times he began to tell her, but could not. He did not want her in tears again. Instead he would remind Gertrude about Gesa, in case she arrived with Robert.

  * * * * *

  "It's done. She's ready,” the old shipwright told Raynar, "May I ship with you again?"

  "Of course. Go and tell the nobs to get aboard. We are loosing the ebb tide.” He looked over the bobbing heads of his crew. "To the oars men. Lets show the nobs what she will do.” The old man had replaced the splintered wooden wrist pins that secured the rafting spars, with well greased iron pins. The twinned hull was ready to sail again, only this time there were no storm waves. Just a good stiff off shore blow.

  Klaes, Hereward and Count Robert leaped aboard, along with five other captains and a few of the Count's barons. Raynar gave the orders to cast off and then to do a tight turn in the channel. On his order, the oarsmen of one hull backed while those in the other hull dug in forward. She spun like a top. Raynar suddenly felt glum. He had taken enormous risks with this ship to save Judith from a Norman husband, but she would still likely end up with a Norman husband. The son of his blood enemy. He felt like cursing the fates, but no seaman would do something so foolish while casting off.

  Instead he looked a the sky and called to it, "You've had your fun, now let me have mine. Give me fair tides, fair wind, and let this ship fly."

  And fly it did. With no waves to speak of and a steady wind, they raised first one and then both sails. By keeping all of the men in the windward hull, the spars connecting the hulls remained absolutely flat to the ocean. The water hissed between the hulls. It did not wallow or lunge or sway so there was little feeling of the great speed.

  The other captains were inspecting every part of the rig. One asked the shipwright what speed he thought they were making. "Twenty, maybe more.” They la
ughed at his jesting. The old man reddened and then pointed to the point on the distant horizon. "That point is twenty miles away. You all know that. See if we don't beat the turn of the hourglass to the point.” He stomped up to the steering post and gave Raynar a grimace. "Fuckin' skippers. The gods' gift to sheep."

  They turned back at the point, well before the hourglass emptied, and headed back towards Oudenburg. Now everyone wanted a turn on the helm. They had a conference about the ship, there and then.

  Klaes was keen. "Finally a ship that is stable enough to let us carry horses for trade. No longer do I have to risk the theft of my best stallions along the highways. And think of the interbreeding I could do with Frisia proper."

  Hereward was also excited, "The speed, and the seaworthiness have been proven. She would shorten each one way haul from Spalding to Oudenburg by a day. You can carry more cargo because there is no ballast weight. We can extend the shipping season by a month on either end, assuming we have crews brave enough."

  "And if William the Conqueror copies the design,” grumbled the Count. "What then, eh? Ships like this one will allow him to move his heavy cavalry up and down this coast faster than we could track him.” A stony silence met his words. The gleeful chatter was stilled, smothered by reality.

  "Enjoy flying her home, lads,” said Raynar. He turned to the shipwright, "when we get to Oudenburg, pull the pins, slash the lashings, separate the hulls, and put the spars in a boat shed. This is her last flight unless we have need of her."

  "Agreed, cap'n,” replied the old shipwright. "damn the Conqueror to hell, but there is nothing else for it. We must pretend that this ship never existed."

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  The Hoodsman - Forest Law by Skye Smith