A Man of Value

by Anna Markland

  The magnificent Arch of Trajan in Beneventum is a testimony to the ancientness of these towns we’re passing through. The Earl seems to have made an ally of the Archbishop here in this Papal stronghold. He has gifted us with some of the fine wine from this region. We’ve packed it well and the Earl hopes we can get it back to Ellesmere safely. He wants his Countess to taste it. He talks about her as much as I talk about Agneta.

  I’m developing a taste for olives.

  ~~~

  Ram and Caedmon and Baudoin had many hours to get to know each other and their respect and liking for each other grew. The conversation one day turned to the Battle of Alnwick where Agneta had found Caedmon wounded on the battlefield.

  “I must tell you, my lord Rambaud,” said Caedmon, “Sometimes I wish I’d never regained my memory of that event. I can still hear the screams of the injured and dying. I’ll never forget the fear. It’s not very Norman of me to reveal such a thing to you.”

  Ram shifted in the saddle, and it was a while before he replied. “Caedmon, a warrior who says he has never been afraid is a liar. I can tell you that during the Battle of Hastings, I was terrified all the time. At one moment I thought my head had been severed and I was looking into my own dead eyes. Then the horror struck me that the blow had felled the knight who rode at my side.”

  It suddenly occurred to Ram he’d never told anyone about his near decapitation before. But Caedmon had fought and fallen in an equally horrific battle.

  “The memory of that day has haunted me all my life. But courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s acting in spite of the fear. When you made the decision to flee the abandoned ruin and sail for help, were you not afraid?”

  “Aye, I was afraid. But you’re right. I had to act in spite of the fear. Though I could hear Turkish voices in their camp, I kept going.”

  “That makes you a man of great courage,” Ram answered proudly. “You saved thousands of lives.”

  “But I was a coward when I first found out you were my father. I ran away from my fears then,” Caedmon lamented.

  Ram was thoughtful for a while, contemplating the landscape around them. “My belief is that when we experience a tremendous shock of some kind, violence, bad news, something completely unexpected, our bodies have a number of ways to react. Yours chose to forget when you were at Alnwick. When you understood you were my son, it chose denial and flight. After Hastings I chose to try and overcome my emotional turmoil, and the frustration of losing the confrontation with a Welsh rebel, by seeking solace with your mother who was also in need of comfort. She’d suffered a loss and was faced with a future filled with fear.”

  It was the first time the two men had ever spoken about Ram’s coupling with Ascha.

  Caedmon was silent for long minutes and then said, “I’m ready to hear the whole story.”

  Starting with the preparations for the invasion and omitting nothing, Ram told his son the story of how he’d come to be, ending with his discovery of Ascha’s flight to Scotland. He didn’t try to make excuses for what he’d done.

  “You were not conceived in violence, Caedmon. In fact, I recall it as a brief time of beauty amid a sea of despair and horror. I didn’t love your mother, but we filled a desperate need in each other. It was a mutual joining. Neither forced the other. I took care of her afterwards, made sure the manor was safe.”

  “But when you recognized the moment you saw me that I was your son, you didn’t choose to fight, or flee, or deny. You immediately chose to face the reality and embrace it.”

  “That’s because, my dear boy, I’m much older, and thus wiser than you,” Ram replied, smiling. “And I’ve had the great good fortune to be that most unusual of things—I’m a nobleman married to a woman who loves me and who has helped me see that without love, life means little.”

  “I would wish for such a love from Agneta, but I doubt she’ll want to see me when we get home. This is the second thing I’ve done to give her unbearable pain.”

  He told Ram about the attack on Bolton.

  “Do you love her?”

  For a few minutes, Caedmon couldn’t speak, then he swallowed hard and admitted, “She’s all I’ve thought about during this long odyssey. In the midst of the hardships, the stupid quarrels between the different groups, the mayhem, the slaughter, it was the memory of Agneta that kept me sane, kept me going. She was my beacon of hope.”

  Ram nodded, glad his son had found a great love. “Have you told her you love her?”

  “No. I knew when I asked her to be my bride that she could never love me, because of my part in the raid. I was willing to settle for the passion we share.”

  Ram laughed. “This sounds remarkably like history repeating itself. Mabelle and I spent many years trying to deny the fact we love each other. It took a cruel kidnapping and separation to make us see that without the other life meant nothing.”

  When Caedmon looked at him questioningly, Ram told him the story of Mabelle’s kidnapping by Rhodri. Baudoin rode up to travel at their side while Ram told the tale.

  Caedmon suddenly reined his horse to an abrupt halt. “Rhodri ap Owain? It was he who kidnapped your family?”

  Ram halted his horse, as did Baudoin. “Oui, why do you have such a surprised look on your face?”

  Caedmon shook his head. “You won’t believe this, but Rhodri ap Owain saved my life.”

  He told Ram and Baudoin the story of how Rhodri had rescued him from near-drowning.

  “It’s strange the twists and turns life sometimes takes, isn’t it?” Baudoin remarked. “Papa, tell him the rest of the story about Rhodri and Rhonwen.”

  They set the horses in motion again. “Rhodri ap Owain and I have a sort of tacit understanding. He hasn’t attacked any of my lands since the kidnapping.”

  “Part of the agreement for the ransom?”

  “Non. He married Rhonwen Dda, the healer from Ellesmere who was kidnapped with my wife and sons. Rhonwen was like a daughter to my wife. Though we call our daughter Rhoni, her name is Hylda Rhonwen, and Rhodri’s eldest child is named Myfanwy Mabelle. Rhonwen has visited us numerous times at Ellesmere, often bringing her children. They have five now, three boys and two girls. Baudoin can likely tell you their names.”

  Baudoin smiled. “Oui, besides Myfanwy Mabelle, there’s Rhys, Rhun and Rhydderch, who are twins, and Carys. Rhodri taught me useful raiding and defense tactics during my captivity. I liked him.”

  Caedmon had been nodding as the account was told. Now he smiled. “Rhys helped rescue me, and Rhodri told me about his wife Rhonwen and her friendship with your wife. No wonder he looked at me strangely when I told him he would be welcome at Shelfhoc. Come to think of it, he told me then I reminded him of you.”

  Ram shook his head and laughed. “The wily old fox has probably already guessed your parentage.”

  “Rhodri actually saved all our lives by killing Phillippe de Giroux as he was about to behead Robert,” Baudoin said. “I for one will never forget that experience.”

  Ram added, “Rhodri could easily have finished me off at Ruyton, but he chose not to.”

  “You didn’t mention the name of the rebel you fought with at Ruyton. I didn’t know it was Rhodri.”

  “Oui, anyway, the first thing I told Robert and Baudoin when I saw them again, after the ransom was paid, was that I loved them, and I discovered it wasn’t that hard. Fortunately, Mabelle wasn’t abused during her captivity, but if she had been, it wouldn’t have made a difference in my feelings for her. If you want a father’s advice,” he winked at Caedmon, “You’ll tell Agneta you love her.”

  “What if she doesn’t love me in return?”

  “You keep telling her. Over and over. Show her you love her. I barely know Agneta, but I think you’ll find she cares for you deeply. A woman may say she’s only marrying for passion, but—perhaps Agneta was as afraid as you to avow her love, fearing you didn’t love her in return.”

  I’ve much to learn from the Earl—should I be calling h
im Father?

  I was impressed by his demeanour during our encounter with Bohemond, who is engaged in recruiting a large army, mostly Normans, to join the next Crusade. This giant of a man, son of the celebrated Duke Robert Guiscard, appears to have been overcome by the zeal to crusade. He abandoned the siege of Amalfi he was embarked on when he encountered the hordes of Crusaders passing through. He was interested in what we had to tell him of our adventures since he plans to cross the Adriatic, as we did, and go on to Constantinople.

  However, my Father is of the opinion Bohemond’s true purpose is to carve out for himself an eastern principality. He and Alexius have a history. Alexius won’t be glad to see him.

  I’ve seen a volcano for the first time, the mighty Mons Vesuvius. They say it hasn’t erupted for two score years, but it’s a daunting sight. Dramatic clouds of smoke still rise from the mouth of the beast.

  ~~~

  Leaving Naples they followed the coast, heading north. In Roma, the Earl sought out members of the powerful Frangipani and Pierleoni families. Afterwards, lounging in an opulent chamber provided by the Frangipanis, he explained his ideas to Baudoin and Caedmon.

  “I’m pleased with our talks with them. They’ll make excellent contacts. The world is changing. The Crusades will open up trade and commerce like never before. Look at the three of us. Like thousands of others, we’re crossing lands we’ve never visited before.”

  He got a pear from a bowl of fruit and sat down again, rubbing his knees.

  “I have to start eating more fruit. Too much rich food in Constantinople. It made my rheumatism worse. Travel doesn’t help, either. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yes. People used to live in one place and never leave it. The wealth of these two patrician clans comes from trade and commerce, not lands. We need to make allies of such people. Then England and Normandie can take advantage of the new trade routes which will open up.”

  Caedmon watched his father trying to ease the pain in his knees. “This city has recovered well from the sacking the Normans carried out over ten years ago,” he replied. “I never understood what that was about?”

  Baudoin jumped into the conversation. “Alors, Guiscard and his men set fire to Roma after the populace revolted against his army’s cruelty. The Duke had gone there to rescue Pope Gregory from the Holy Roman Emperor.”

  He turned to his father. “I understood Frangipani and Pierleoni are bitter enemies.”

  Ram put his forefinger on his lips and whispered with a smile, “They are. That’s why I met with them separately. However, they both understand the power of money. It’s ironic the Pierleoni family, descendents of Jews, are the strongest protectors of the Popes.”

  Rome has risen from the ashes like the phoenix in the myth of old. Will I be able to rebuild my life with Agneta, after destroying her hopes and dreams?

  ~~~

  The weather turned cold, windy and wet as they crossed Tuscany, through Siena and on to Firenze, where they attended mass at the Basilica di San Miniato al Monte. They came out into the bright sunshine and were watching artisans and masons working on high scaffolding on the exterior of the neighbouring Baptistery. Baudoin wandered off to explore the other side of the renovations.

  “This is incredibly decorative work,” Ram commented to Caedmon, his hand shielding his eyes from the glare.

  “Aye. It is indeed.”

  Their attention was suddenly drawn by a frenzied shout from high above them. A portion of scaffolding had collapsed and a large slab of marble had tumbled from it. Baudoin was directly below.

  Caedmon sprinted towards his half-brother, waving his arms. “Baudoin!”

  As Baudoin turned, Caedmon leapt forward, knocking him out of the way of the falling marble. The block shattered on impact, inches from where they lay, and shards sprayed over them. Caedmon shielded Baudoin and a sharp sliver struck him on the shoulder, embedding itself in his flesh.

  “Mon Dieu,” Baudoin gasped. “Qu’est-ce qu—”

  “Mes fils,” Ram shouted as he reached them. “My sons, grâce à Dieu, you’re safe. Godemite, Caedmon, you’re hurt. Your shoulder is bleeding.”

  “What?” Caedmon said with a chuckle.

  Ram looked at him strangely. “What is amusing?”

  “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you utter a Saxon word.”

  Ram laughed. “You’re right. Here’s another. Oli Crosse, we must get that taken care of.”

  Caedmon hadn’t felt anything until he looked at the wound and then he swooned. By now a frenzied crowd of animated Florentines had gathered, making apologies, offering assistance. Several of Ram’s men had also run to the scene, ready to protect their lord from harm.

  “Vite,” Ram ordered one of his men. “Fetch our own physician.”

  “Oui, milord.”

  ~~~

  “I owe you my life, Caedmon.”

  “You would have done the same, Baudoin.”

  Caedmon had been dozing in a giant bed in the opulent villa of a Florentine nobleman who had witnessed the incident. He’d offered the Earl and his family his hospitality, and the Earl had expressed his delight at the establishment of another good ally in Italy.

  “Let’s hope that’s true.” Baudoin wandered around the room, picking up ornaments and examining them. Then he turned back to Caedmon. “This is the first time you and I have had the opportunity to be alone together. To speak our minds.”

  Caedmon turned to lean on one elbow. “Speak it now, Baudoin. We should have no misunderstandings between us.”

  Baudoin perched on the edge of the bed. “When I first learned of your existence, I shared my brother Robert’s misgivings and resentments.”

  Caedmon shrugged, but shouldn’t have. It hurt. “I can understand that. It was a natural reaction. Look at me. I came close to destroying myself with resentment.”

  Baudoin shook his head. “But I decided quickly that harbouring those resentments in the long term would only harm our family.”

  Caedmon bit his bottom lip. “You’re a wiser man than I, Baudoin.”

  His half-brother hesitated, then went on, “But—still—I never thought I would come to like you, love you even, like a brother.”

  Caedmon felt his face redden and his heart race. “You don’t have to—”

  Baudoin stood. “Non, Caedmon. I’m not saying these things because you saved my life. Time after time as we’ve journeyed, I’ve found myself drawn to you. You’re a man to be respected, and I’m honoured to have you as a brother.”

  Caedmon was overwhelmed. “The honour is mine, Baudoin. Merci.”

  They clasped hands.

  “The physician says you’ll be ready to travel on the morrow. How do you feel? It won’t be easy travelling with your arm strapped to your body.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Four days later they were in the seaport of Genova. The physician from Montbryce examined Caedmon’s shoulder, and declared it sufficiently healed to allow the removal of the bindings.

  “You’re lucky, my boy. You seem to heal quickly,” the trusted Norman said.

  “Like most of us in the Montbryce family,” Ram remarked. “I remember when Hugh was wounded at Hastings, he recovered remarkably quickly. He accompanied me to Ellesmere the first time I ever went there. What a shock that was, I can tell you. The castle the Conqueror had granted me was a derelict earthwork.

  Anyway, enough reminiscing. I seem to do a lot of that these days. As I was saying, ostensibly it’s the Bishop of Genova who rules here for the Emperor, but Frangipani told me that merchant families like the Adornos have the power. This city has one of the largest and most powerful navies in the whole Mediterranean.”

  I wish Agneta could see some of these places. The Mediterranean isn’t like any body of water I’ve seen before. It evokes memories of Heysham, though I doubt this sea is as cold! I wonder if Leofric and Coventina have married yet.

  The Romans arrogantly called this Mare Nostrum, ‘Our Sea’ but where is their empire
now? The Normans should pay heed.

  They continued to follow the coast, passing through the Genovan colony of Monoikos before heading inland. This way they hoped to avoid the rigours of crossing the Alps. Still, it took four days to get to Arles, from where they struck out for the north, hugging the banks of the Rhone to Lyon, the Massif Central looming to the west and the mighty Alps to the east. They were cold, wet and hungry by the time they arrived in Lyon. They located a lodging house with a large communal bathhouse and took advantage of it to get warm.

  Ram admitted, “I was tempted to break open the wine from Beneventum as we struggled along against the wind. In fact, we should have brought a bottle in here to enjoy, instead of this swill.”

  Caedmon and Baudoin agreed, but they kept on drinking the inferior wine.

  “It’s a pity we weren’t travelling in the other direction. We could have let the vicious Rhone current carry us down to the sea,” Ram jested, relaxing in the hot water. He let out a long sigh. “This is good for my knees. Now if I had your mother here, Baudoin, to take care of my other needs, I’d be a happy man.”

  Baudoin glanced at Caedmon and reddened. “Given both your tendencies to mal de mer, it’s better we’re going the other way,” he teased them both. “How’s your shoulder, Caedmon?”

  “The cold makes it stiff, but it’s healing. The hot water does help.”

  The route became flatter and easier and in a sennight they’d reached Alensonne, where they intended to stay with Ram’s brother, Antoine, who now governed that castle on Ram’s behalf.

  “A lot of memories here,” Ram observed as they approached the castle. “First time I came here, Antoine and I were faced with solving the mystery of the sudden death of the seigneur—my wife’s half-brother, Arnulf. I’ll tell you the tale later.”

  “Does Antoine know about me?” Caedmon asked as.

  “Robert told him when he came back to Normandie.”

  “What will be his reaction?”

  “Antoine will be accepting. He’s a compassionate man. I could tell you tales of him and my other brother Hugh, whom you’ll meet in a few days at Domfort, but I’ll leave it for them to tell.”