English Knight

by Griff Hosker

  “Do I have permission to build a castle?”

  “Hmn, that is an interesting question. Needs must you may have to defend the river crossing for me but you were an outlaw.”

  “I have sworn an oath my liege and I am never foresworn.”

  The king looked at my father. There was something about Ridley of Constantinople that made men believe him. Honesty was etched in every line on his face. “Very well. You have my permission to build a castle.” He waved a hand at the cleric. “Brother John will give you the titles and deeds which you will need.” He looked carefully at my father. “There is an opportunity for a man with strength to build a position of power in those wild borderlands.”

  My father shook his head, “I have had power, my liege. I have commanded vast armies and wrested land from both Italian and Muslim warlords. I seek a peaceful land, a land for my son to come to love.”

  For the first time the king seemed to notice me, “Ah the fine knight who has such a deadly and lightning quick blade. Then do you seek power and land, Alfraed of Norton?”

  I was not used to such attention. I had to think quickly, “I do not know your majesty. All of this is new to me. This time last year my biggest worry was the style of my beard and the cut of my clothes.”

  All of them, my father included, laughed at that. “And so it is with all young men.” The king looked at me sadly, “My son, before he was taken from me, had much the same attitude. You two might have been friends.”

  I bowed. There seemed no response I could make to that. Instinct gave my tongue words. “I will try to serve you on your borders as your son might, your majesty.”

  For some reason, that seemed to please the king enormously. He embraced me, “You have spirit and you have honour. Our meeting was a good one. You will be my men in the north and help the Bishop to turn back the Scottish tide.”

  Brother John was a small fussy man but he was always smiling. At least in the time we saw him he always had a happy and cheerful countenance. He took us to his cell where he had maps. “If you are Saxon my lord then you know the area. There were Saxons both at Norton and Billingham but, as you may know, those people were all removed when King William chastised the rebellious earls.” I saw my father frown. His men had told me of the upset he had felt when he had heard of the slaughter. Many of his servants and friends had died. Brother John continued. “Your land goes from the river north to the borders of the Bishop’s lands and farms here.” He jabbed a finger at the map. “They go as far north as the land of the De Brus around Hartness and to the east as far as the marshes.”

  My father peered at the writing on the map. “Wulfestun, here, is that a separate manor?”

  “It was but no longer. King William incorporated it into Norton.”

  I ventured a question. “Will there be any dispute over ownership?”

  My father and Brother John looked at me curiously, “A strange question, my son.”

  I shrugged, “If King William cleared the land of the former owners and installed his own baron then will they not dispute our ownership?”

  Brother John nodded, “A fair question. They were raided by the Scots and the men slaughtered. The women were taken as slaves. There are no heirs to dispute the land.”

  “But the women.”

  “Have no claim.” Brother John shook his head, “Here Salic law rules. Women may not inherit. It is not like the East. Even if the slaves were freed they could not have any claim to the land.”

  The cleric spent some time refining the exact boundaries and giving us the number of farms on the land. He could not give us the names as they would be in the church on the manor. Seemingly satisfied the cleric told us that the documents would be ready the next day. “Are there any further questions?”

  His friendly attitude had emboldened me. “If the king’s son is dead then who will be the next king?” It was as though I had sworn in church. My father and his men glared at me and Brother John’s face fell. “We should know this father for we do not want to lose this land. The king might be dead already but for our intervention.”

  Now that he understood my question Brother John’s smile returned, “Another fair question. The king is young enough to marry again but he has made plans. His daughter, the Empress Matilda has been named heir. The matter is still raw because the young prince has only been taken from us recently. Even as you were leaving Constantinople his son was drowning in the English Channel.”

  Wulfstan said, “Wyrd!”

  Brother John made the sign of the cross and said, “The will of god.”

  “But she is a woman. This Salic law you mention means she cannot inherit.”

  “You have a sharp mind. As her father has named her as his heir she can but in all likelihood it will be her sons who reign.”

  “How many has she?”

  “None but she is but eighteen summers old. You will like her, young sir. She is clever and she has a witty tongue. Some say too witty for an Emperor. They have no children yet but she is young.” He waved an impatient hand having gossiped more than he had intended. “I must get on with the documents you need. It is good that you can read for many of those you will meet cannot!”

  We left the brother and wandered the mighty town of Caen. “We will buy two slaves here, Alfraed, we have done the difficult part of the journey. We do not need to travel as quickly.”

  We bought many items which my father thought we might need. Already, just since arriving in Caen I had noticed the chill winds which whipped off the sea. I was not used to such a climate. The cloaks we bought were thicker and warmer than the fine ones we wore to show off in the east.

  “When we reach England we will have some boots made. Your days of wearing sandals are over, sadly.”

  “Thank you Wulfstan, you are a constant source of good news.”

  He shrugged, “I never liked sandals anyway.”

  We also bought the pots they made here. They were of a better quality, or so Osric said, than the ones we would find in England. More importantly they would be cheaper.

  There was not a great deal of choice at the slave market. I was more used to the huge bustling markets of Constantinople than the one in Caen. There seemed little variety of skills. I left it to my father and Ralph to make the decisions. They knew what they wanted. They just watched without making a bid. Others went to examine teeth, hair and arms but the two of them just stood. We bought some of the local wine and sat at a table to watch.

  Eventually Ralph went over to a woman. She looked to be younger than Wulfstan but older than me. She appeared to have all her teeth; that was always a good sign. It was hard to judge her age accurately but she looked to be thin. It looked as though she had not had a good life. They brought her over to us. “This is Faren. She is English and she can cook.”

  “How do you know?”

  My father looked at me, “She told me.” I was about to ask how that was proof but I saw Wulfstan give a shake of his head and I held my tongue.

  They went back to the slave market. There were far fewer of them left now. They eventually approached a youth of no more than fourteen summers. He was thin and wasted. I wondered if he would even last the journey across to England but my father seemed satisfied, after speaking with him, and he paid the money and brought him over. “This is Aiden. He will look after the horses. He was born in Ireland but raised here.” He turned to the two of them. “You are now my property. I am Ridley of Norton and this is my son, Alfraed. We will be travelling to England in the northern marches. If you serve me well then I will be generous and may even grant you your freedom for I am not a cruel man. If you try to run then you will be blinded.”

  My father’s voice and face were so honest that even strangers trusted him. I saw the two slaves nod eagerly. Perhaps they were used to being threatened with blinding. They looked to me to be the runts of the litter but the others seemed happy enough. When I became the holder of the purse strings I would buy better slaves than these two.

/>   My father anticipated that the deeds and titles of Norton would be ready on the morrow and we arranged passage on a cob which was travelling to London. The ‘Maid of Rouen’ looked nothing like the ships we had in the east. She was almost round in shape and had no oars. However my father assured me that her capacious and empty hull would accommodate the horses and Ralph had negotiated a good price as she was bound for London anyway and this would save the captain taking on more ballast. The high tide would not be until noon the next day and I hoped that my father’s judgement of Brother John was a correct one.

  The documents were ready by first light and my father insisted that I be there when they were presented to him. “You will be the lord of the manor once I die. You must be there when they are presented in front of witnesses. I want no dispute over the claim to the land. I lost the manor of Coxold. I will not lose this one too.”

  There were a host of clerics and officials when we returned. The king, it seemed, had gone to visit his newly acquired estate. The estate of Fitzwaller might lie in Anjou but it was owned by King Henry. I had learned that he had acquired Normandy by first defeating and then imprisoning his elder brother Robert. Anjou was ruled by Fulk of Anjou. He was however in Jerusalem carving out a kingdom for himself there. His son, Geoffrey Plantagenet was only eight years old and the duchy was ripe for plunder. Henry had his beady eye upon this juicy morsel already.

  The Bishop of Caen performed the ceremony conferring the title of Baron of Norton and the deeds to the manor of Norton on to my father and his heirs. My father and I had to swear fealty to the King and to promise to supply knights and men at arms should the king require it. As we left my father said, “How many knights and men at arms would be required by the king?”

  Brother John smiled, “The king understands that you do not know the land. It is just three knights and twenty men at arms at the moment.” He lowered his voice, “However if I were you Baron Ridley, I would have more available. The northern march is a danger place.”

  As we boarded the ship to wait for the tide I asked. “We only have two knights, father; you and me, where will be get the third?”

  He pointed to Wulfstan. “Wulfstan is a fine warrior. He will be the third.”

  “Can you do that? Can you make an ordinary warrior into a knight?”

  ”I am the Baron of Norton. Subject to the king and the Bishop of Durham I can do whatever I wish. Remember that Alfraed. This is your road to power. We have been lucky or perhaps it was just wyrd but our meeting in the forest with the king has given us a path to a home in England. When we left Constantinople I knew not how it would come about but it has and we should take advantage of it.”

  As soon as the ship left the estuary I began to vomit. The huge waves we saw terrified me. They seemed to tower over the ship and threatened to send us to the bottom. Each wave drenched me to the skin. How could men sail in such a storm? By the time I was retching drily Wulfstan had fetched me some water. “This storm is an omen!”

  He laughed. “This is not a storm. The waves you see are the normal ones for this stretch of water.”

  My eyes widened and I forgot the sickness, briefly. “Truly?”

  “Truly. You will get used to this. It will take the better part of a day and a night to reach the safety of the mighty Tamese.”

  I could not endure this ship for half a day let alone a day and a night. I suddenly remembered something Brother John had told me. “Is it true that William Adelin, the king’s son, perished when his White Ship foundered in these very waters?”

  “I believe so.”

  “It is an omen.”

  I sank to my knees and rested my head over the side. That way I could be ill without too much movement. The less movement I made the better. I heard Faren’s voice and it sounded gentle. “My lord if you drink this it will make you feel less ill.”

  She proffered a pot beaker. I shook my head. “Thank you for your kindness but I could not keep anything down. The water I just swallowed to cleanse my mouth has rejoined the sea.”

  I saw her smile and realised she was not as old as I had first thought. “Trust me, my lord, it will work. I promise.”

  She was a slave and if she displeased me I could have her whipped. She might be telling the truth. “Very well.” I dared not look at the liquid in case it brought on the retching again. I lifted it to my lips.

  “Drink it down in one and then look out to the horizon. That helps too.”

  This sounded like witchcraft to me but I had little choice and I complied. There was a brief moment when I felt my stomach churning once more but, as I stared at the horizon I began to feel better. My stomach stopped hurting. I smiled, “Thank you Faren. It works. I shall go below decks and see my father.”

  Both she and Wulfstan shook their heads. “Better to stay on deck and stare at the horizon. We will keep you company.”

  I was in their hands and I did as I was bid. That, in itself, was something of a miracle. I rarely listened to anyone for advice. I was however, ignored for the two of them chattered away. I suspected that the slave was taking advantage of my good nature for she was not working while she and Wulfstan spoke. However I allowed it for their presence made me feel much better.

  Chapter 6

  By the time we reached London I had got what Wulfstan laughingly called my ‘sea legs’. I had even managed to keep down a little stale bread. As the horses also looked well when we landed them I concluded that my father’s choice of slave had been good. Aiden had cared for them well.

  We landed n the early hours of the morning before dawn. The walls of the city were still closed and so we headed north directly. We had no reason to enter the city. There was a Roman Road which ran from London all the way north to our new home. The others were all in good spirits for they were home. Ralph and Garth actually kissed the ground when they landed. I was just disappointed. Apart from the white tower I could see next to the river the buildings looked mean and small. If this was the capital of this land what was the rest of this godforsaken land like?

  We were well north of London when we met our first travellers. They were heading south for London. It was what we would have called, in Constantinople, a caravan of merchants. There were armed guard surrounding the pack horses. In truth I could have taken them with the old men of my father but they viewed us with suspicion and the guards nervously gripped their weapons. I almost laughed as they tightened their grip on their shields and poorly made spears. Perhaps my father was correct and this was a land of opportunity.

  What I had noticed was that it was a land of cold. It was only late summer but I was colder than during the worst winter in Byzantium! Even when the sun came out it did not warm the bones. You were always chilled. The wind whipped through your clothes. I almost contemplated putting on my armour to protect my body from the elements. As I looked at my father I could not believe the change in him. From the moment we had seen the coast of England he had been different man. During the journey through Frankia he had stooped less but now he looked stronger. He seemed to be taller. How could that be? He looked more like the warrior who strode around the Varangian barracks with a confident gait. What was there in this land to inspire him so?

  He spoke to me, when we stopped at an old Roman mansio on the northern road for food, about England. “This is the road that we marched up with Harold Godwinson in five days to fight the battle against the Vikings and traitors just outside York. We will not do it in five days but I fear that particular march cost Harold his country. Many Housecarls lay dead at Stamford Bridge and Aelfraed and I were wounded. Had we been at Hastings then William’s bones might lay upon the field and not Harold.”

  Osric had been listening. “And yet, my lord, had you not gone to Constantinople and fought with Aelfraed of Topcliffe then you would not have met young Alfraed’s mother and he would not be here. You would not be returning now a rich man. Perhaps this is wyrd.”

  My father looked at me and smiled, “Perhaps you are right. We had t
o march north to face Tostig and Hadrada. Who knows, if we had not been wounded and marched south, then we would have died there at Hastings.” He laughed and slapped Osric about the shoulders. “You are right and we may not make York in five days but we shall not dawdle.”

  The road was neither friendly nor hostile; it was just empty. There were inns which had grown out of the deserted mansio left by the Romans. They had some of the original stone but repairs had been made in wood. Still they provided food and shelter and they speeded our journey north. They were not, however, welcoming and the further north we went the more warnings we received of the dangers therein. The forest around Nottingham and Sheffield, called Sherwood by the locals, appeared to be particularly dangerous and then, we were warned, there were dangers from Vikings and Scots. The castle on the Don appeared to be the last safe place we would find before we would have to risk the forest and the men of the woods as the outlaws were known..

  My father, of course, laughed such things off. “This is my land and we will be safe there.”

  I felt intimidated as soon as we saw the huge green swathe stretching out on either side of the road as far as the eye could see. Even the others like Wulfstan were a little apprehensive. “Let us, at least, put on our armour. It does look like a place of ambush.”

  My father had looked mystified, “Who would ambush us? We are in England.”

  “In the last mansio someone spoke of the hooded men who rob travellers upon this road.”

  Strangely that seemed to make my father chuckle. “Very well but it will not be necessary.”

  I certainly felt better once I was in my armour but, of course, it meant we walked more than we rode. Once we entered the forest I saw that it was less dense than I had expected. These trees were ancient oak, beech and elm. It was lighter than some of the thick forests of Frankia. Perhaps my father had been right. I almost began to breathe easier. The arrow which thudded into the shield of Ralph led me to believe otherwise. I had my shield around to protect me in an instant. I noticed that Athelstan protected Aiden while Wulfstan put his shield before Faren. We were under attack; it had to be the outlaws.