by Smith, Skye
"Have no fear from the constable on our account," said Raynar. "We were outlawed long ago for standing up to their ways."
"If it's outlaws you is, then you is welcome in our camp" She swung around to the children. "Oye, none of your thieving. Return everything to where you got it."
"We thank you for the invite, but the day is still young and we have miles to go." He wondered if they had any food. They were ragged, but they did not look unhealthy. "Are there any men at your camp?"
"If our men joined us, we’d be rousted for sure. The sheriffs got a hate on for Danelaw axemen and our men give them back the same. There's murder on both sides. In Nottingham they call our men wolfmen because they hunt in packs. They are dead men if they are ever caught."
"It must be hard here without your men," said Anske. "Do the Norman men pester you. You know. Force you."
"They used to , but not anymore. Not us," broke in the second woman, "they get their fill nearer home now. There are so many hungry and homeless. They can have the pick of the younguns for mere table scraps. No need to pester old mothers like us."
"Did you know that the lords in Lincolnshire are asking that folk move back to their farms." Anske said. "They have organized plough teams, and seed corn, and soon there will be breeding pairs of sheep. If you are all from one village, perhaps you should start to move north away from the next war."
"We're not from Lincolnshire. We're Yorkshiremen," said the oldest boy proudly.
"Aye and that's the sad truth," said the woman. "with no men, and no tools, we'll not be seeing Yorkshire again in a hurry."
"I still think you are better making for the Fens than staying here," Raynar advised, "There could be armies marching through here within the month." He looked closely at the careworn and aged face of the woman and realized that she had not yet seen thirty. "Even if you do not go, please tell other villagers from the north. If you do not rebuild a roof in your village before winter, then the Normans will claim the land for themselves."
Anske was again dressed as a boy, and had moved between the two older boys and hugged them to her chest. "Promise me that you will not touch a woman again in that way unless she asks you to." They promised her, and then she kissed each on the forehead.
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Hoodsman - Blackstone Edge by Skye Smith
Chapter 20 - Showing an Angel around the Peaks in May 1070
They may as well have stayed in the safety of the women's camp considering the meager miles they made after leaving the woods. Twice they had to hide for an hour while patrols came into view, rode passed, and then went out of sight. They did not even use the time to be playful, as they had just learned the folly of not being watchful.
There was no moon today and clouds on the horizon, so as soon as the sun went down the night was black. They were still at least six miles short of Repton Abbey when they gave in to the blackness and begged a roof at a tiny forest priory. Then there were more problems as Raynar tried to keep Anske from giving away her sex.
The incident with the boys had heated her blood and she was in a teasing mood. As a Frisian woman, she had no respect or understanding of celibacy in men or women, and being a worshipper of Freyja, the earth goddess of fertility, she had no patience with the Christian 'shouldn’ts' and the monkly 'mustn’ts'.
Perhaps it was because Raynar knew her as a woman, and a fetchingly feminine woman, that he could not believe that the monks could not see through her flimsy disguise as a boy. Perhaps it was because the monks in this lonely place were so long away from the company of women, or perhaps they did see through the disguise but were too embarrassed to admit it. In any case, they were given beds in the same cell, and luckily the cell was mostly sound proof otherwise the monks ears would have dropped off from the sounds of Anske being shameless and wanton under that holy roof.
* * * * *
Brother Tucker was not in Repton, but they caught up to Tucker at the Abbey's mine and rolling mill in Wirksworth and stayed the night there. He could not keep Anske's identity a secret from his old employer and mentor. Tucker was not troubled by it. The mine and mill was a secular community with few monks resident except for those like him here on business. There was even a prosperous Inn, come alehouse, come whorehouse where they shared an evening meal.
Tucker had a wider girth each time Raynar saw him, and he tended to lick his lips at any mention of ale or meat. The good brother was dismayed at the news from Peterburgh, and at Raynar’s description of the new abbot with his lust for young flesh and his preference to warriors over monks. Most of all he was dismayed that the voting of the monks to choose a new abbot had been overruled by the King. How dare he impose someone who was in no way qualified to be the abbot of such an important abbey.
Brother Tucker hushed his voice when he told them that the abbot's men had yet to come and collect the deposits left at Repton abbey. A few widows and sons had come to redeem their deposits, and the Abbey's treasury was eager to help them, but the redeemings were few. Tucker feared that the owners of most deposits were deceased or living in exile, and their families had no knowledge of the wealth stored at Repton Abbey.
Before the couple retired to their room at the inn, Tucker asked if they would marry before God before sharing the bed. Their refusal neither surprised him, nor bothered him, but it was his duty to ask. Anske told him that Christian style marriages were rare in her village, and in any case, in her village no vows were binding until after there was a healthy child.
Tucker had business in Grindel with the carters and porters that worked for him there. The two old friends talked for the entire ride, and the one patrol they saw waved in recognition of the good brother. Repton Abbey was wealthy and powerful in Derbyshire, and Tucker was the abbey's business face, and generous with the abbey's ale.
Tucker stopped at Grindel, but the couple continued up the valley to Hathersage to see John Smith. John was not at home, and the forge was cold. His father could no longer work the hammers since losing an argument with some thieving Normans. John's parents were cold to Raynar now. They blamed him for John's friendship with outlaw bands. Raynar did not ask to stay, nor were they invited.
In the hopes that John was at the Porters Glade along the porterway to the mines, they continued up the valley to Raynar's boyhood home. Anske had been entranced by the scenery since they had approached the Peaks, and now in this deep valley she was in complete wonderment. She had lived her whole life in the low and flat lands of the Fens. She had never seen anything so large as the wild hills of the Peaks, or so deep as the valleys, or water moving so fast as in these rivers.
Raynar was still recognized by some of the folk at the glade, but not many. It had been created by the Welsh mining brotherhood as a spa to help heal the sick and injured workers from the mines. Folk had always come and gone as their kin got better or died. The porters and travelers stopped here for food or a roof and the earnings from them were used to support those that were ill. The healer and her daughter, who had been as family to Raynar, had now both returned to Wales, and their skills had not been replaced. There was no word of John.
Raynar felt deeply saddened that his boyhood home was both familiar and yet strange to him. The glade looked the same and yet the constant turn over of residents had made it seem like he no longer belonged there. Luckily the glade was doing well. The lead mines, the porters, and the porterway were busy because of the Norman building boom in the south. Those that earned from the mines had not suffered the hungry winter that the rest of the north had. They were neither farmers nor shepherds so they had not lost any stock nor their harvests.
They ate and slept with the other travelers under the guest roof and paid little to do so. Raynar had stashes of coin in the forest near here, but he did not have a need for more coin so he left them be. If he was ever on the run, this would be where he would run to first, so the stashes were still well placed.
They were woken before sunrise by the bustle a
nd calls of porters and herdsmen. They fetched and saddled their horses and made it to the high point of an old Roman street just before the sun peeked over the eastern ridges. The ancient street was a lovely and easy ride in the early morning sun. Anske had heard Raynar tales of the treacherous weather in the Peaks, but there was no sign of any today. They descended a bridle path into Tideswell and Raynar was pleased that the folk seemed happier and more at ease than he had remembered. He recognized one of Alan's outlaws sitting outside the alehouse and he pulled up to talk.
He was glad he had seen the man. The Peaks outlaws were mostly living at home again. The Normans were fearful of leaving the towns and their baileys, so these outlaws were no longer fearful of being captured at their farms or villages. The Norman priests that had replaced the English priests in the local churches had become fearful of possible vengeance for the harrowings and had fled for the safety of the garrison towns. The folk, at least the men folk, were greatly relieved to no longer have such spiteful spies in their midst.
The man at the alehouse sent a boy to find Alan, and when Alan came, they had a wonderful reunion at the alehouse. That night they spent in comfort in Alan's cottage, and they talked until late into the night.
With the clarity of morning minds, Alan admitted that it may be difficult to convince the Peaks outlaws to follow him to Burna. Life had returned to normal in the Peaks forest, and the men were enjoying the normalcy. Alan agreed to come. As for other men, he would have to let each decide for himself.
Alan did know where John was. He did know that he was moving his bowyer craft works from Alan’s camp near Tideswell to Rodor's camp in Sherwood. He did know that the men of Sherwood were still hungry, still outlaws, still living in the forest and were still hounded by Norman patrols from Nottingham.
Once Alan had finished explaining, Raynar asked, "The last time I was here, your men stole a dozen horses in a twinkle of an eye. Any chance of that again? We know there are no horses in Sherwood so it would help me to take some to them."
"Sorry, but there are no horses to steal. There are damn few Normans around here any more. They don't have enough men left to patrol the highways and they fear vengeance for the harrowings so they have left us be. Especially us. I will ask the men about horses, though. They may know of spares."
Over the next few days, Alan himself was surprised by the number of horses that were brought into Tideswell by the outlaws. They had all been stolen from the Normans over the months, but with this new peace they had become a risk to the safety of the horse thieves and so had been hidden in the forest and were never being used.
* * * * *
Reaching Sherwood with eight mounted riders and a string of ten extra horses turned out to be more troublesome than moving a hundred men by foot. The horses drew notice everywhere along the way. They not only attracted any Norman patrol that was about, but also farmers and carters and travelers and the hungry. There seemed to be a lot of coin about to buy stock. The old saying that you can't eat coin was certainly true in this spring or shortages.
They stuck to the Peak trails as long as possible, so they entered Sherwood Forest from the north. At least once they were in Sherwood they were safe from the Norman patrols, but that danger was replaced by another, the new outlaws of Sherwood.
The old outlaws had all been organized by Rodor. They were a mixture of bowmen and farmers and thieves, but once Rodor had organized them, they had kept the highways safe for the folk, while taxing the Normans and the rich. Taxing was the best word for it. They had learned not to kill or maim and to only take half of each purse, otherwise there were reprisals. They had learned to let the king's couriers through unscathed. They had learned not to kill or steal animals they did not need for immediate food, as they had no place to keep them, and animals were easier to track than forest men.
The new outlaws were the destitute villagers displaced by the harrowings of Yorkshire. There were entire villages of folk living hand to mouth in the forest. Though there were few men, and few good weapons, the sheer numbers of desperate folk made them a danger to travelers. They needed food and warm clothes and boots, and they would kill to cover their deeds, or kill without warning so they would not risk injury in a fight. They most often preyed on simple folk like themselves rather than the Normans and the rich who were armed and dangerous.
Between the old outlaws preying on the Normans and the rich, and the new outlaws preying on the folk and the workers, the traffic on the highways through Sherwood had almost completely stopped. This meant that both old and new outlaws were forced to harvest the forest, and so the forest had been depleted of all easy food.
Three times in ten miles the group of hoodsmen was forced into a showdown with the new outlaws. All three times they were forced to loose warning arrows and hurry passed through ambushes. Each time through, Raynar had lingered and yelled to the ambushers that they should go back to their villages in the north where labour was needed for planting, and that they would lose their land forever if they did not rebuild at least one roof in their old village.
The answer back from the forest was always the same. They had almost died on the walk south, so they would surely die on the same walk north. The last thing Raynar would yell to them was that it was winter that had almost killed them. It was now spring. There were fresh greens in every hollow and fresh rabbits in every copse.
Exhausted and jumpy they were eventually ambushed by some old outlaws, who asked them their business before showing themselves. These men led them to Rodor's latest camp. The old ones had been so over crowded during the winter that the paths too them were no longer hidden and secret. Rodor welcomed them and hoped they had come to help.
"On the contrary, Rodor. We have come seeking help. I need men and horses for a worthwhile endeavor in Peterburgh."
"Look around, Raynar, the camp is empty. The men are guarding our villages from the new outlaws of the forest, while the farmers are ploughing and planting. What few horses we have are pulling ploughs."
"What of the Norman patrols. We saw many around Nottingham. Do your men not fear capture?"
Rodor had all the news from north and south. News was part of the payment he demanded for services in the forest. "Our bows are for hire for any needing protected passage through the forest. Even the bastard sheriff pays our price. His patrols have orders to defend travelers and chase thieving bands, but not to the point of risking ambush or costly fights."
"Then you have an open dialog with the sheriff, ummm, Peverel?"
"It's not Peverel anymore. He is in York trying to rebuild the city and to get the fields ploughed that feed York. The new sheriff in Nottingham is Baldric, though he too is now in the north. I have dealings with his chief constable Ranulf. Ranulf has given us Sherwood. If we protect the carters on the highways then we are free to live in our villages again and help the farmers.
He fears a worse famine this winter than last, if the fields aren't planted soon. It is the same reason the sheriffs are in York. The death toll from last winter has scared them badly, and the slaughter of the French infantry that retreated from the Pennines has all the Norman knights sticking close to the baileys."
"Then why don't they help the Yorkie villagers back to their villages. That would solve Nottinghamshire's problems and Yorkshire's."
Rodor laughed and his men that were listening all laughed with him. "You are expecting Normans to be helpful, to be useful. All they know is bullying and broadswords. The folk run and hide from them. The Normans can't even get close enough to them to ask them to go back to their villages."
"Then you help them back to their villages, and the Normans can protect your folk while you are gone."
Now the laughter turned snide and then to anger. "You would have us use wolves to guard our hen houses. You are a dreamer Raynar."
"I would agree with you if this were harvest season, but surely you could trust them to guard the planters. You would be back within the month. If the Yorkies don't get back to the
ir fields soon, it will be too late for planting."
"They wouldn't go. The Yorkies. They wouldn't go," croaked a voice.
Raynar turned towards the croaking voice and said, "They are mostly women and children. They fear a repeat of their long hungry walk here. If they were guarded by bowmen, and had food, then they would go. If they do not rebuild their roofs before winter, they will lose whatever right they had to their land."
"It might work," admitted Rodor. "It has to work, else they'll all starve this winter. There's nary any venison left in the forest." He motioned to two of his men to come close. "Go to the Priory at Ravenshead and pass the word that I would meet with Ranulf there tomorrow."
* * * * *
Their night in Rodor's camp was comfortable enough but the food was thin gruel of spring greens and little else. There were less than twenty for the meals, including the eight travelers. The men of Sherwood were thin though still well clothed and still fit enough. Raynar was about to offer to put the meat they had brought from the Peaks Forest into the pot, but Alan stopped him with a shake of the head. "We will be needing that for the journey. There will be little enough to glean once we leave this forest."
Rodor and five men, plus Alan and Raynar chose the worst of the horses for their short ride to Ravenshead. Ranulf would have a guard, and there was no sense in parading stolen Norman horses before them.
The Priory at Ravenshead was a poor place, a forest chapter in ancient Saxon buildings surrounded by stony fields and thick forest. They helped the monks fix a sagging stable roof while they waited for Ranulf's arrival. Ranulf arrived with a guard of ten, and motioned them into the church without delay.
"What is so urgent?" Ranulf asked impatiently without waiting for introductions.
Rodor explained the plan of helping the destitute in the forest to go back to their own villages, the role the bowmen would play, and the role Ranulf's men would play. "But it would have to be soon," he finished, "otherwise they will have missed the planting season and we will be feeding them here for another year."
