by Diane Magras
Bairn (Scots language, pronounced BERN): “Child.”
Battlement: The top of a castle wall or tower, usually featuring spaced openings through which its warriors fight.
Beck (Scots language): A stream.
Bolt: What a crossbow shoots: a small, straight, cylindrical piece of wood with a metal point.
Caudle: A healing drink, often with made with oats, other grains, or bread, as well as eggs, and spices.
Crenel: The gaps between the stone merlons atop a battlement.
Crossguard (part of a sword): A horizontal piece of metal on the hilt above the blade that protects the hand on the grip.
Curtain wall: The defensive outer wall of a castle, made of stone and mortar. These were tall and usually seven or more feet thick.
Grip (part of a sword): The middle part of the hilt between the pommel and the crossguard; it’s what you hold.
Hauberk (pronounced: HALL-berk): A shirt of chain mail that covers the neck, shoulders, arms, and chest, and reaches past the hips.
Hilt (part of a sword): The entire top section of a sword (everything that comes above the blade itself).
Inner bailey: The fortified inner wall of a castle directly before the tower or keep.
Keep: The inner building or tower of a castle, protected by outer fortifications, and thus its safest place.
Merlon: The thick square pieces atop a battlement.
Midden: A heap of refuse (including rotting plants and human waste). A medieval compost pile, more or less.
Murder holes: Found usually around the entries or gatehouses of castles, these holes in the stone allowed defenders to dump rather horrible things upon the invaders below: from rocks to boiling water to, worst of all, hot sand, which would get through the chinks of chain mail and hurt considerably. (Dumping boiling oil on enemies is a myth, by the way; it was far too expensive for most British castles to care to waste it in this way.)
Pommel (part of a sword): The shaped end of a sword’s hilt, which sits above the hand, which serves as a counter-weight.
Postern gate: A small, fortified back door of a castle, built into the curtain wall, providing an emergency escape for defenders who needed to flee. The door was too narrow for an army to enter, so they were not of use for a castle’s whole garrison, just a handful of people, such as the lord and his guards.
Siege engine: A wooden or wood-and-metal structure like a trebuchet, mangonel, or battering ram used to siege a castle.
Solar: The safest bedchamber in a castle keep, usually built near the top, used by the rulers of the castle.
Surcoat: A long, loose, sleeveless garment worn over chain mail, reaching the knees, usually with a heraldic emblem on the front (Faintree Castle’s is a blue tree).
Author’s Note
In 1210, Scotland hadn’t reached what most people consider its most dramatic period of history. Yes, there were wee battles going on, and the Scottish throne would soon be challenged. But in about a century, the Wars of Scottish Independence would be at hand with Robert the Bruce, the famous Scottish warrior king, at the helm. In Lord Faintree’s day, however, the Lowlands of Scotland—along the Borders and up a bit—was a somewhat quiet place, which is why I chose this political setting for Drest’s story. I wanted to avoid the drama of Robert the Bruce’s times in order to delve deep into my own characters’ worlds and allow their adventures to thrive—and not be limited by the happenings of important wars.
A Lord’s or Lady’s Role
This period had many things in common with other times of medieval Scottish history. It had feudalism and rule of law. As in other places in Britain in the early thirteenth century, feudalism meant that a leader like Lord Faintree or Lady de Moys could demand annual goods or services from the people who lived on the swaths of land that the lord or lady owned. Goods came in the form of grain or crops. Services sometimes came in the form of men for battle, which is why Emerick is so distraught when Grimbol demands service from Phearsham Ridge. Demanding such a service was a lord’s privilege—and Grimbol had no right to require it.
Demanding service from the men of a village was one way to amass an army. Villagers would have been armed with weapons like homemade spears and armor of leather, but never swords (more on that later) or chain mail (which was extremely expensive). During times of war, a lord or lady would compose a good chunk of his or her army from such village soldiers. But they could also keep a significant army of hired soldiers at hand, if they had the money. Knights without land would also serve at the castle. A distinguished knight like Sir Reynard was no doubt paid well for his service, which involved living at the castle and working closely with the army.
Powerful Women
While Lord Faintree has some means, he has very little in comparison with Lady de Moys. That lady is not only very wealthy but also the most powerful person in this book. It wasn’t uncommon for someone connected to Scottish royalty to also have connections with French royalty; for centuries, the Scots and the French were allies of varying levels, brought together against the common enemy of the English. It was unusual, though, for a woman to have the kind of power that Lady de Moys has—unusual, but not entirely unheard of. I imagined Lady de Moys as a brilliant statesman, able to command loyalty from her home army in Scotland but also her husband’s army in France. During her husband’s life, she would have grown to know the men of her armies, its leaders but also its trained soldiers. She would have shown herself a good listener, and brave, and able to stand the sight of blood, perhaps even tending wounds when the men returned from battle. After her husband died, she would have been generous to his supporters, rewarded his most loyal men well, and listened to them. In that way, I can imagine her winning them over.
Noblewomen, even ones like Lady de Moys, didn’t typically don armor and go to battle, but a woman might lead her men in a battle, though she’d keep in the back when the fight began. By being charismatic and courageous, a woman leader could make a difference. The courage of such a leader has been known to inspire an army to victory. A few such experiences like this would have bonded Lady de Moys very closely with her army.
Marriage and Power
Unfortunately, most noblewomen—in particular, young noblewomen—were at the command of their older male relatives when it came to the men they married. Neither Celestria nor Oriana had a choice. Marriages were alliances meant to strengthen the family. And as Emerick described, lords like the old Lord Faintree (and Lord Harkniss, Oriana’s father) would use their children’s marriages to attain a position of importance for themselves. Sometimes this could go far: When there wasn’t a clear successor to a throne—and you never knew when an heir would die in battle or from illness—the people closest to the throne would have a chance of reaching that throne (that’s what happened with Robert the Bruce). If not that, they’d at least receive more lands, which meant more power. It really was a brilliant strategy on the old Lord Faintree’s part to marry off his two children to people with such links to the French and Scottish thrones as Lord de Moys and Oriana Harkniss. Too bad for him that Celestria wasn’t about to stand for it, and that old Lord Harkniss saw Lord de Moys as a better catch than the four-year-old Emerick.
Allies
Marriages could lead to powerful alliances, but old friendships could as well. Emerick is fortunate that the Harkniss and Faintree families have always been friendly even without a marriage. Thanks to Celestria, Oriana considers him a close friend and ally, and is willing to lend him her men. Usually an ally wouldn’t be willing to assist in what was essentially a family dispute. Most would have waited to see who would end up on top, Emerick or Oswyn.
Medieval Law and Order
This period in medieval times saw laws much like laws today, prohibiting crimes like theft or murder. And there was law enforcement. For small towns like Phearsham Ridge, the community as a whole or its leader (someone like Arnulf) enforced laws, and wo
uld come to a consensus if the crime was small and could be easily settled. If someone had committed a serious crime, the perpetrator would be taken to the town’s lord or lady, who would serve as judge. A lord or lady heard complaints, then convicted (or not), and sentenced. This was the point of Lady de Moys’s Petition Day; often, a lord or lady would admit his or her people into the castle at set times to hear disagreements, requests, and cases. If the crime was committed against the lord or lady (such as stealing from the lord’s forests or lands), the punishment was dire: Thieves could expect to lose a hand for poaching, or even be hanged if the stolen goods were valuable (such as a horse). Sentences were entirely up to the lord or lady.
A wolf’s head was a dire sentence. It was also rare; lords would use it only for the most dangerous and elusive outlaws. It meant just what Emerick described: that anyone who saw the person thus sentenced had the right to execute that person (medieval law prohibited people from going about slaying each other, so this was quite unusual). A wolf’s head didn’t always come with a generous reward; Sir Oswyn was clearly putting everything he could into slaying a person he deemed as the most dangerous in the lowlands (at least to his interests).
Scottish Currency
In 1210, Scotland didn’t have a currency that was widely used. Later in the thirteenth century, kings would stamp and issue their own silver coins, but in the time and place depicted in this book, people commonly used English silver coins. The currency was the pound, determined by a literal pound of silver pennies. It was common in Scotland, especially in rural areas like the setting of this story, for people to trade goods for other goods rather than use coins.
But for those who did use coins, thirty pounds was a lot. It was what a lord would pay to buy a fine horse, for instance. (Think of it as akin to the price of a really fancy car.) That’s an unusual bounty on a girl’s head, but, like the wolf’s head sentence, just shows how much Oswyn viewed Drest as a threat, and how much he wanted her slain—and how much he worried that a lass who could escape his castle’s prison might well elude all his men.
Knighthood
Knighthood was bestowed in three different ways: on a battlefield after a courageous act, before a battle as a means of giving a young and untested man courage, or in a lavish ceremony. No one inherited a knighthood during this period: Even a knight’s son had to earn it.
But a knight’s son would be led toward a knighthood from a young age. At seven or eight, a boy would become a page at a castle and serve the lord and lady; then at fourteen or fifteen become a squire and still serve the castle, but also start practicing battle techniques (fighting with practice swords and shields, jousting with a target, riding a horse with a weapon, and working up the muscles to be able to mount a horse in full armor); and then at twenty-one (though sometimes a knight would be younger) he would undergo a ceremony.
This ceremony would start with an overnight vigil in the castle’s chapel during which the knight-to-be would meditate on the great responsibility of being a knight—a responsibility to his lord, to God (this was a Christian ceremony), and to his family’s honor. In the morning, he’d take a hot bath, then dress in a long white tunic, symbolizing cleansing and purity, a kind of rebirth. The ceremony would take place in front of the entire castle and would include language much like the kind that Emerick uses. At the end, a knight would receive a sword and a pair of spurs.
Women did not receive honors like this. They acquired titles like “lady” through birth or marriage. It would have been highly unusual for anyone to knight a girl, but I like to think that a lord could have done it if he’d wanted. He’d make a great many knights angry, though, because knighthood was a serious and elite honor.
Swords
I promised more on swords earlier, so here’s a bit about the sword in relation to knights: Only knights were permitted to carry swords. Men-at-arms carried long daggers, battle-axes, or spears. Even squires weren’t allowed to carry a real sword in battle until they were knighted. That Grimbol has trained all his children to fight with swords and given them real swords shows his flagrant defiance of this rule of medieval life.
Literacy
It may have surprised some readers that Tig, the cleverest person in the book, can’t read or write. Neither can Drest or her brothers, or Grimbol. Literacy was an elite skill. Castle pages were taught how to read. Some villagers might have their children taught by the local priest, but during this time, most didn’t. This is one example of the differences that Tig, Drest, and her family will find between themselves and the other castle warriors-in-training. But it’s a skill they’re all going to learn.
Acknowledgments
This sequel to The Mad Wolf’s Daughter has evolved as a whole new quest. Just like in the book, I’ve been accompanied by many of my companions from the last time, as well as some new friends.
One of my most crucial companions, the Tig to my Drest, is my son, Benjamin, whose advice on every draft ensured that the plot made sense, the language was clear, and the story moved swiftly. It’s meant a lot to have you as my first editor and also my most enthusiastic fan—and I love that I’ve written much of this novel with you here in the same room, quietly reading, always ready to put down your book to listen to and critique a sentence. Many thanks also to my husband, Michael, who has been an incredible support every step of the way: reading drafts, listening to me talk over plot points at dinner and breakfast, and simply being proud of this book and of me. You’re the Emerick to my Drest.
Thank you to my editor, Kathy Dawson, whose brilliant touch has helped me yet again take Drest’s story to new heights. Your advice, suggestions, and blunt challenges are like Drest’s brothers combined: You helped me figure out how to make this tale shine as it always should have. (I don’t know how I’d have reached this point without you!)
Thank you to Antonio Javier Caparo for another piece of incredible cover art, this time with all the characters I love most on the front and back! They’re perfect, and I’m lucky to have you as my ally in this endeavor. Thank you also to Maggie Edkins for your fantastic work on the design—and to Sophie E. Tallis for drawing another marvelous map.
So many people in publishing helped with this book. Thanks especially to the Penguin Young Readers team: my marvelous publicist Lily Yengle, who seems to always know exactly what’s going on everywhere at every time; Susie Albert, Judy Samuels; and to Regina Castillo and Mina Chung, who both did so much to make these pages beautiful. And to my agent, Adriann Ranta Zurhellen: Thank you for being there when I needed you most.
I’m also grateful to the students, teachers, and school librarians I’ve presented to (in person and by Skype) who have been such champions of my work: Julia Colvin at Mast Landing Elementary, Monica Moorman at Orange Brook Elementary, Katie Reilley at Blackberry Creek Elementary, Meg Rooks at Lyman Moore Middle School, and Alison Snow at Creek View Elementary. Also many thanks to the bookstore staff who have shown such enthusiasm for my work (with special thanks to Gibran Graham at The Briar Patch, Kenny Brechner at DDG Booksellers, and Stephanie Heinz at Print: A Bookstore).
Thank you to the medieval scholars who have made researching this book so pleasant with the fascinating resources you’ve made easily available in print and online.Many thanks especially to David Santiuste (University of Edinburgh) for his work as well as his help with a last-minute query about currency.
Finally, thank you to all my readers. I hope that this chapter in Drest’s adventures entertained, delighted, and inspired you. Thank you for joining me on this journey.
DIANE MAGRAS grew up on Mount Desert Island in Maine. She is the editor, writer, and chief fund-raiser for the Maine Humanities Council. She volunteers at her son’s school library, and is addicted to tea, toast, castles, legends, and most things medieval. The Hunt for the Mad Wolf’s Daughter is her second book and the companion novel to The Mad Wolf’s Daughter.
Find Diane online at www.dianemagras.com and
@DianeMagras
/DianeMagrasBooks
@Diane Magras
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