Hoodsman: Blackstone Edge

by Smith, Skye

  Hereward clapped his hands smartly. "You must go and see him, immediately."

  "No!" barked Thorold, "I need him here to help with Sweyn."

  "Sire," this time he bowed to the older knight. "I am here and now, so I am at your service. However, I am interested to know how that message arrived from Repton as if it were sent by my old friend John."

  "It was handed me by a monk while I was walking the riverfront in Spalding," replied Thorold, "and the monk told me that the message was from a John Smith. There was no mention of a brother Tucker."

  "Then first I will help you with Sweyn and then I must ride to Repton."

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  The Hoodsman - Blackstone Edge by Skye Smith

  Chapter 15 - The Danish King arrives in Spalding in April 1070

  King Sweyn arrived that afternoon with his brother Jarl Osbard, and his sons Harald and Canute. They felt so secure in the Daneglish and Frisian part of England that they were escorted by only twenty guards. They had come with four ships which meant that almost two hundred Danes were now billeted in Spalding. Thorold had given orders in the town to feast them and entertain them, but not to get them drunk.

  It was such a pleasant day that they dragged tables and benches from the hall into the yard and sat in the sun. Sweyn was not the wild Viking everyone expected. A good description of him would include the word 'respectful'. He was, after all, the king who had built many Christian churches across his kingdom. He was also distrustful, so for instance, he had imported churchmen from the Danelaw for his churches rather than use those offered by the Bishop of Hamburg. He was known to have a violent temper when slighted, but hopefully no one here would see that side of him.

  One of the first things that Sweyn noticed about the folks greeting him, was that his son Canute had immediately latched onto a young man of the household who was about his own age. Hereward and Thorold noticed the same thing with interest. Their interest turned to wonder when Canute introduced Raynar to his father.

  "So this is the Raynar of Raynar's Rules," said Sweyn after the introduction. "Well met lad. Come and sit closer to me."

  It was explained to all that Canute and Raynar had spent time together in Scotland, where Raynar had told Canute a short list of do's and don'ts when fighting Norman cavalry. Canute had all his men memorize the list, which had since been called Raynar's Rules.

  The rest of that day was spent in discussion about the current state of the Danish subjects in England after such a disastrous winter of harrowing. Sweyn had problems comprehending the numbers of dead and dispossessed. The Jarl, whose acceptance of William's Danegeld had enabled the harrowing, sat brooding.

  Eventually Raynar went and got his map pipe and rolled out maps of the Danelaw and showed everyone the events of the harrowing and the paths of the refugees, and the areas where the most had died, and the areas that had been totally cleared of any villages and villagers.

  "The harrowing was an immediate catastrophe for those villagers, but it caused another catastrophe afterwards, because it forced your subjects to accept the serfdom that was offered by the Normans in return for food." This took some more explaining by Thorold.

  "And now there is a third catastrophe. If the villagers do not return to their land and rebuild their roofs within a year and a day, then William can claim their land for the crown and dole it out to his Norman vassals and to monastic orders." This was understood immediately by Sweyn, as Denmark had the same 'in common' laws from Knut.

  They finished the discussion by throwing ideas around as to how to get the folk to return to their land. Thorold had warned his own men not to offer their ideas yet, but to let the Danes explore the topic for themselves first.

  When twilight replaced the colors of the sunset, they dragged the tables and benches back into the hall and began feasting. As is normal at a feast, men were asked to tell epic stories, and it wasn't long before Hereward asked that Raynar tell them all about his adventures that winter in the Peaks.

  Without naming names, Raynar told them of Blackstone Edge. Raynar was becoming skilled at story telling and it took him an hour to do this one justice, during which time he had the rapt attention of every man and every woman in the hall. The story ended with a demonstration of the power of a Welsh Yew bow, and the ruination of one of Thorold's old battle helmets.

  "In your rules," Prince Harold asked, "you say to bring down the horse first, yet that goes against our grain. The horse is a big part of the warrior prize for defeating a man. We try not to injure them."

  "These are Norman battle horses, sire," Raynar remembered his manners. "They are not like normal horses. They have been trained to be the enemies of men. For instance if you lie flat in front of a normal horse, it will dance around you trying not to step on you. A Norman battle horse on the other hand, will try to crush your crotch or your chest or your skull.

  The Normans they carry are heavily armoured and use weapons with a long reach. You cannot safely get close enough to the Norman to fight him so long as he is mounted on a battle horse. Once he is thrown from the horse, he is helpless. He will likely be injured from the fall, and the weight of his armour slows his fighting when on foot. If you ever meet such a horse in battle, back away and look for ways to cripple or kill that horse." Raynar was trying to pull the heavy arrow out of the helmet. He looked around at the tables of men and pointed out, "To gain a warrior prize you must first live to collect it."

  Most of the men would sleep in the hall, so the stories would continue all night for those awake enough to listen. Raynar had a more comfortable bed to go to, and the men complained loudly when he led the wondrous Anske away from her serving duties. The couple no longer had the women’s hall to themselves, but the women did not mind Raynar staying in their quarters. He had always been one of their favoured men.

  It took another day of discussions around the maps before Sweyn agreed to take some ships to Ely to see the lay of the island. Hereward and Klaes joined them as guides. This meant taking the four ships at Spalding back down the River Welland, south across the Wash through the sand bars, then south down the Great Ouse to Lynn. At Lynn they would leave two ships to guard the river mouth, while the other two continued on to Ely.

  Meanwhile Raynar risked his life by telling Anske that he must leave on a short errand to Derbyshire. Though he promised her it was to visit his old Abbey and nothing more, and nothing violent, she knew too well how dangerous the highways had become. She worried that he was going alone, and not with a dozen men. She even offered to ask Gerke and some of his men go with him, but he declined. "I have an old trusted friend to travel with, and we will be safer together than even Gerke could make me."

  The old friend of course, was his nag of a mare Abby. He dressed in homespun, like a farmer, and he rode on a farm saddle on Abby who looked like a farm horse. Together disguised as farmer and plough horse they had traveled hundreds of miles and had been ignored as too poor to be bothered by the Normans. He did, of course, keep a Welsh bow close to hand just in case he needed to show other outlaws that he was one of them.

  While he was with Thorold reflecting on what had been said with Sweyn, Lucy came running into the hall to get him. She led him out to the yard and pointed to the stranger on a farm horse. It took him a few moments to realize that the stranger was a woman in disguise, and then he laughed and went and pulled Anske from the saddle. "No love, even in disguise you are too interesting not to notice. You may as well dress in a white cloak and ride your black mare."

  "Stop treating me like a courtly hussy." she scolded, but she allowed herself be pulled off the horse and into his arms. "I can ride better than you, and can use a bow better than most men, and I know how to survive in the fens with nothing."

  "Another time, love. This trip I visit an Abbey, and they will not be pleased if I bring them a mate out of wedlock."

  "Then marry me." She kissed his nose and swirled around to take the old mare back to the stable.

&n
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  It was sixty miles almost directly west from Spalding to Repton, and half of it was across land that is soggy in April. He had planned his route carefully to keep him away from Normans. The dryer land was being tilled and he would purposefully route himself beside fields that were being tilled so that he would look like a member of a ploughing team.

  Though the farmers were doing much of the work in the field, the horse teams, and ploughs, and the armed men on watch were all supplied by Thorold. He new many of the guards personally. They were mostly Frisians. They were tall blonde men, quick to smile, quick of eye, and were all convinced that they were just as good as the next man in all things. He had fought shoulder to shoulder with these men, and there were no men he would rather have near by if there were trouble.

  He spent his first night hidden in a thicket on the edge of a wood. Abby stood watch, as she had been trained to do. She woke him with a nudge of her nose sometime in the black of night. He closed his hand on the hilt of his sword and rolled onto his knees and then listened. He could hear footsteps, but they could have been from any large animal. He spent the rest of the night sitting with his back to a tree trying to stay awake. Nothing came of it, other than that feeling of sickness you get from an interrupted sleep and a too early rise.

  He traveled five miles and came to a new alehouse built for the custom of the increasing traffic on Fosse Way. He approached carefully, and as he saw no horses or carts, he stopped for a hot meal and a gossip. The innkeep was a pleasant enough man, but down in the mouth.

  Traffic was way down on Fosse Way this spring. Very few Normans and churchmen with ready coin were traveling. Two couriers a day so far this week. The migrations of folk and lords moving north or south had stopped with the snows of winter and had yet to start again. The innkeep stayed open with the hopes that all small merchants share, and from lack of anything better to do.

  The land became dryer as he rode further west, and there were many more villages and fields, but few were being plowed. The sheriff of Nottingham was a Norman ass, and had probably yet to realize that all the plough animals had been eaten. A few times he was hailed by rough looking men who were sitting idle beside fields that needed ploughing. He would show his bow and wave but he was careful to keep his distance from them. He reached Repton Abbey well after dark, and hoped that Brother Tucker was not out at one of the mines. He had kept himself moving by promising himself a safe and long sleep at the Abbey.

  The Brother was at the Abbey and welcomed him with both arms and led him to the kitchen where a very rotund monk happily set about feeding him. Tucker showed him to a cell which contained a bed, a stool, and a cross, and then left him to answer the next call to prayer. He did not stir until was shaken awake at first light.

  With the excuse of showing Raynar the new cart wheels that John Smith had fitted to their carts, Tucker spoke at length. "Our abbey, all abbeys, are storing treasure and land deeds on behalf of English families who have been displaced by the Norman invasion. Many of those families have disappeared. Certainly those that were dispossessed or murdered did not tell the new Norman lords of what they had stored at which abbey."

  "Our abbot is old and when he passes on he will be replaced by a Norman. Our parent Abbey in Peterburgh now has a Norman abbot. Last month my abbot received notice from the new abbot in Peterburgh. He wants a detailed accounting of all treasure and deeds being kept on behalf of English families. I have discussed this at length with my abbot, and there is only one reason for such a disclosure. We are going to be asked to surrender the wealth that we hold in trust, to the Normans."

  "So what do you expect of me?" asked Raynar.

  "We would like to tell all the families to come and get their treasure before it is taken by the King's collectors. Since most priests are now Norman, we can no longer spread such a message through the church. Since the sheriffs and courts are now all Norman, we cannot use a civil notice. This leaves the porters, carters, craftsmen, and markets. Using my mining contacts, I have already started the word spreading through Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire, but it needs to travel much wider than that."

  "Can the King do that, just take what has been deposited with you?" asked Raynar.

  "Violent men can do anything they want in this kingdom right now. There is no rule of law any more, just rule of might. We cannot hold off armed men for long, and they know that we will have an accounting of the items. Perhaps what you actually meant to say was 'Is it legal?' We have discussed that in chapter. The high court, meaning Bishop Odo, will choose to interpret the Escheat laws to their advantage. If the family has not possessed their treasure for a year and a day, the crown will be allowed the right of trusteeship."

  "And if a widow wants to claim a treasure that her husband deposited with you, what then. Is that possible?" asked Raynar.

  "Oh certainly. When the deposit was made we gave the lord a code word and he responded with one of his own. Any agent of the family can free the deposit so long as they know the person and date of the deposit, and the two code words."

  "The wealthy trust the church that much?" It was difficult for Raynar believe that anyone would trust the church.

  "They used to trust us that much." Tucker looked embarrassed and humbled. "I doubt they do anymore, not since William has been appointing warriors as churchmen. We were trusted to keep the treasures safe, but because of the code words, we did not need to trust in the honesty of lords."

  "And if a widow or a child can prove who she is but does not have the codes?" asked Raynar.

  "That becomes difficult. If the depositor has left instructions with us in lieu of his will, and if she can prove he is dead, then she may inherit. I cannot remember ever hearing of such an incident, but then these are unusual times."

  "And this is the same in Peterburgh?"

  "Yes, the same in all Benedictine chapters," replied Tucker.

  "Brother, what is the penalty for stealing from an Abbey?"

  "If it is theft by stealth, and nothing more, it would be a civil matter. If there was violence, then the civil judgment plus excommunication," replied the good monk.

  "And yet the Normans risk this in their search for yet more gold."

  "Ahh, I have noticed that it is the Norman way to ask forgiveness, not permission. They usually receive that forgiveness, for a price. That is why there are so many churches in Normandy. Each one was the cost of a forgiveness."

  "Have you told all this to John Smith?"

  "I have indeed," replied the monk, "and he promised to spread the warning, but he is tied to his forge. He suggested that I tell you, because you follow the birds north and south."

  "Never underestimate John."

  "Oh but Raynar, I would never underestimate either of you, despite your penchant for weapons and revenge. Now, I think that since you are eating our bread, you should join us in prayer. Afterwards we will visit the abbot and you can tell us of the latest madness in the secular world."

  The abbot and the monks of Repton were hungry for news, and were loath for him to leave. They delayed him an extra day while he explained how Thorold had managed the volume of refugees in Selby, how he had rebuilt commerce by getting the carts moving again, and how he was handling the current shortage of draft animals for the ploughing.

  They were politic enough to allow him, an outlaw, to leave the Abbey before they sent for the local constables to pass along the suggestions about supplying plough teams to the farmers who should be planting.

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  The Hoodsman - Blackstone Edge by Skye Smith

  Chapter 16 - Feasting with the Danes in Spalding in April 1070

  Raynar's bum hurt. The two day ride back to Spalding seemed to take forever. There were still six miles to Spalding and through the soggiest of land. If he didn't make it through this fen bridle path before dark, he would have to stop. There was too much risk of getting lost or stepping into a bog.

  He was impatient to be back
in Spalding, not because Anske was waiting for him, and not because he had important news from Repton to tell to Thorold and Hereward, but because he now knew why Cristina's letter from Scotland was so clumsily worded. It was a message in code, and he had left her letter in Spalding.

  It was dark by the time he got to Beatrice's manor, so the gates were locked and the watch was obstinate. "They told me no one, and that means no one!" yelled back the toothless old man through the peek hatch. "Not even you."

  "Go and ask someone then," said Raynar mildly. The man had his orders.

  There was a look of indecision on the mans face, which told him all he needed to know. No one of authority was at home. It was no use asking this man where they had gone. He wasn't fool enough to admit that there was no one home.

  "Is Hereward back yet?"

  "Oh aye, he is in Spalding at the dock," replied the old man.

  Raynar turned Abby and made for the dock. As he looked towards Spalding the sky above it was aglow as if roofs were burning. He immediately felt sick to his stomach. The close end of the village was empty of folk, but there was a hum of many people up ahead.

  When he pulled into the common next to the docks, he realized that there was a festival going on, and a huge bonfire. Relief swept through him and he suddenly realized how much he cared for the folk of Spalding and the folk of the Fen villages that surrounded it, and how much he feared the calculated violence of Norman vengeance.

  As relief swept his worries and nausea away, so it also brought on his exhaustion. He dismounted and found he could barely walk. He patted Abby and whispered promises of treats into her ear. She nudged him and he was lucky to keep his balance, what with the numbness in his legs.

  He was just trying to decide whether it was Abby's breath or his homespun that stank so badly, when he was surrounded by three young beauties dressed in little more than brightly colored ribbons and chains of flowers. They sang a sweet song to him, which included his name, and created a posy ring around him and began to dance him towards the fire.