“What was that all about?” asked Alan.
“I would guess that he thought he had another two weeks to finish hiding the evidence of his theft,” replied Osmund dryly in Latin. “I’ve finished doing my figures for the last Quarter Day, Lady Day. He seems to have stolen two wagon loads of un-milled grain; ground flour- wheat and rye; four barrels of salt; firewood from the estovers- not a few sticks but whole wagonloads; about a dozen swine from the pannage; a dozen bales of wool and the list goes on and on. I estimate about 120 shillings.
“He cheated me as well, as he only paid me 23 shillings for my bribe, not the promised one third. Most of the goods have already been sent to Colchester and sold, but I think that the herd of swine are being hidden in a forest near Elmstead. I’ve confirmed the quantities of items delivered with the freemen concerned, and the quantities delivered into your store. I had your housekeeper Lynne count them with me as they were delivered. A good, honest woman that one, and very kindly with the youngsters. I’d suggest this evening would be a good time to visit Kendrick and search his house. I’ll arrange for Toland and his assistant Erian to be there, as well as Lynne and Baldwin.”
They met at the Hall kitchen at six in the evening, an hour or so before sunset and while most of the villagers were still busy in the fields. Erian had escorted Kendrick from the fields and together the seven proceeded to Kendrick’s cottage in the village. Barging in through the door the crowd they overwhelmed the small place, and Alan apologised to Kendrick’s woman Sunniva for disturbing her and the two children. She had been giving suck to a baby and it wailed in protest as she covered herself. Lynne suggested that Sunniva and the children might like to wait outside.
The cottage was small, just two rooms, and it took only minutes to find the hiding-place under the floorboards in the bedchamber. Sunniva was recalled before the cache was opened and denied all knowledge of it.
When the cut section of the floorboards was lifted a large hole was revealed, which contained several canvas bags. On being emptied out and counted on the kitchen table there was 137 shillings and ten pence. Another smaller bag contained items of gold jewellery. Alan believed Sunniva, who looked at the fortune in money stacked on the table in disbelief. From her own slatternly appearance and the clothing she had in a small chest in the cottage, clearly Kendrick had never spent any of his ill-gotten gains on her. She sat at a chair, leaned forward onto the table, knocking over a small pile of coins as she did so, and sobbed pathetically.
Kendrick looked more ferret-like than usual, his eyes darting around. “Judas!” he hissed at Osmund. “Do you know that this man has been receiving money from me?” he demanded of Alan. Alan and the others let him carry on his tirade until Kendrick finally realised that all he was doing was providing further evidence of his own guilt.
“Today is Sunday 22nd April. It’s fortunate for you that the Hundred court is due to sit tomorrow, St George’s Day, as I’d just as soon take you out and hang you now,” said Alan coldly. “You’ll be chained up in the tithe-barn overnight and tried tomorrow.”
Leofstan, the thegn of Great Holland and Little Holland presided over the Hundred court the next day, being the next largest landholder after Alan. This had previously been arranged as Alan was not due back from military service for two weeks and Leofstan was surprised to see him there, and even more surprised to hear the change to the court-list. “I never did like that slimy snake!” commented Leofstan in a true display of judicial impartiality.
Osmund quickly outlined the case against Kendrick and what the witness testimony would be as to goods delivered compared to those put in store. Osmund stressed that the current charge related only to the last Quarter Day, but that the mill and other records indicated that the defalcation had been occurring for years. The finding of the 137 shillings and gold in Kendrick’s cottage was in itself sufficient proof, as no honest servant could ever accumulate such wealth.
At that point Kendrick himself put an end to proceedings. “I claim amercement,” he said in his thin voice. “My wergild is 200 shillings, and if I pay that I am free to go from any charge that may be brought against me. You have received from me 137 shillings, and that leaves 63 shillings still payable.”
“No,” said Leofstan. “The money and gold found in your cottage I deem to be the property of Alan, either from this Quarter Day or previous amounts you misappropriated from him or his predecessor. You can’t pay wergild using your victim’s money. You may pay wergild, but it must be full amount and from your own money.” Again, all present knew that an honest cheorl would not have 200 shillings and that even his frithbogh, the tithing of ten men to their mutual pledge to obey the law to which he belonged, would find it difficult to produce that amount.
“The money will be here in the next week,” said Kendrick with a scowl.
“Very well, in that case if the wergild is paid to Alan before the next Hundred Court Day you’ll be free to go, but must leave the Hundred and never return. If it’s not paid by the next Hundred court date of… 21st May, your case will be called back on and I expect you’ll be swinging in the wind by mid-day. Your woman and children may go or stay as they choose. Next case!”
Next day the swineherd dispatched to Elmstead returned with a dozen grown and fat pigs belonging to Alan. At mid-afternoon a villager called Landry arrived at the Hall with several large canvas bags and stated that he had payment for Kendrick’s wergild. Kendrick was released and brought to the Hall and sat and watched as the money was counted. When counted out in piles of silver pennies, there were exactly 200 shillings. Alan gave Kendrick a long flat look of dislike. Clearly there had been other caches of money kept outside the cottage. Kendrick returned his look with a smirk. Alan made a hand-motion of annoyance and said, “Very well, you’re free to go, but if I ever see you again you will be hanging from the nearest tree within moments. Have your nydh?mestre and children out of the cottage within a week. They can meet you outside the Hundred.”
“Why would I want that cifes whore and her brats with me? I can do better than that, and she can come and share your bed with your cifes Edyth.” He stood and continued, “Good day, my lord. I’ll see you in hell one day!” and then strode from the Hall.
Osmund had taken the liberty of recruiting a new steward, ready to take over from Kendrick when Alan returned. His name was Faran and he was from Fordham in Lexden Hundred. He’d been steward there for five years until the new Norman lord took over several months ago and decided that he wanted a Norman steward, putting Faran out of a place. After a discussion with him Alan was satisfied that the man knew more both about running a household and a manor than he did, and seemed to be honest. Faran was middle-aged but single. When he found Sunniva and her two children still in occupation of the steward’s cottage he made no complaint and settled in easily with them.
Later that week Alan watched the fyrd at practice and winced at each mistake that would have killed them on a battle-field. However, he was heartened by the progress of the men who had been in the program since January, who were reaching the point of being reasonably competent. He just hoped that the others would rapidly reach that standard.
By contrast, the performance of the archers, although now only training for three hours two days a week, was excellent. Most of the men had prior experience with the bow and they had combined that capability with the discipline and tactical training as a unit they had received over the last four months.
The weekly training of those of the fyrd armed with spear and sword had provided some improvement, both in individual skills and working as a team, but watching them blunder around the practice field with sword and spear Alan hoped they would never have to meet an enemy. Something would have to be done to teach them the more advanced skills of the art of war.
That evening Alan met with the men of the cavalry, now twenty strong including the recent recruits, in their barracks in the partly built fort at Thorrington. Most sat on the beds next to the living area on the bottom level o
f the barracks. Ainulf, Edric, Alfward, Ledmer and Acwel, his companions from the recent expedition lounged in the background.
Alan looked about him. “You men are doing well, all things considered.” With a sigh he continued, “You have had to learn in a few months what Norman knights learn in eight years. You men we took on in January are now reasonably competent, but more training is always good. You can never train too much. The others need to do some catching up quickly. What you don’t have is a name, an identity.”
Alan picked up a bundle from the bed next to him and threw it to Edric, who was the closest of the men he knew well. Edric unwrapped it and held up an adult wolf pelt, made into a cloak, with the skin died dark green and the fur on the inside. “You are ‘The Wolves’- mean, vicious and sneaky creatures who take what they want and fight when they choose. We have eight qualified men at the moment, and the others will get their skins when they qualify.” Alan had placed a standing order with the furrier at Colchester. He raised his mug of ale and shouted, “To the Wolves!”
“The Wolves!” came back the reply in a roar.
CHAPTER NINE
WIVENHOE LATE MAY 1067
Alan was roused by the sound of shouting outside the Hall, the call of the guard outside the Hall and the guard’s knocking on the door to gain his attention. It was pitch dark in the middle of the night as Alan disentangled himself from the arms of the still-sleeping Edyth and slipped naked out of bed.
Quickly slipping a tunic on over his head he cursed the coldness of the bare stone floor on his feet as he hurried out into the Hall, where extra torches were being lit and placed in the sconces in the walls and posts. Baldwin, still brushing sleep from his eyes, was sitting next to the remains of the fire, head close to that of a roughly-dressed cheorl.
Seeing Alan’s approach Baldwin rose and said, “This is Aeglaeca. He’s ridden as messenger from Edward of St Osyth. A little after dark a shepherd at Point Clear saw ships in the estuary, rowing north. The wretch couldn’t count them but said that there were more than he had fingers- he probably had his shoes on. It sounds like a Danish or Norwegian raiding party,” he said. “Edward has gathered his men, is fording Brightlingsea Creek and warning Edsel, the King’s Reeve at Brightlingsea, to collect more men and march up the coast, keeping an eye on the ships.”
Alan nodded his understanding. Trading ships didn’t row anywhere. “Rouse all of our men and get them into their chain-mail, and get all the archers here. Ring the church bell, that’ll bring people running! Requisition every horse in the village. A messenger is to ride to Robert fitzWymarc at Colchester at once. That’s probably where they’re heading. Se3d riders to Great Bentley, Tendring, Little Bentley, Cliff Mistley and Bradfield. One rider can do that as they are all in the same direction. Another for Alresford, Frating, Bromley and Elmstead. One for Wyley, Thorp, Kirkly and Clacton. One to Oakley, Ramsey and Dovercourt. I want 100 men at Wivenhoe by dawn, and every man in the Hundred who can carry a spear, sword or even a pitchfork there by mid-afternoon. Move!
“Otha! Hot food for all the men now and trail rations for breakfast. You have half an hour!”
Within minutes the church bell was ringing and men were streaming into the Hall. Some stood shrugging their way into chain-mail vests, others in leather or padded armour. They helped each other with the fastenings and with buckling on arm and leg guards made of boiled leather.
Alan hurried into the Solar, where Edyth helped him into his padded gambeson jacket and then tied the lacings at the back of the chain mail hauberk he slipped on over the top. Alan slipped his poniard knife into his belt and draped the baldric carrying his sword in its leather scabbard over his shoulder. Edyth bound the leather thongs over his woollen trews while he pulled on his riding boots. His green-painted shield, a single handed battle-axe and a green cloak completed his martial array as he strode out into the forecourt.
The forecourt was as active as a nest of ants kicked over. Grooms were leading horses out of stables, some with saddles and tack in place, others still to be attended to. Men dashed back and forth, many still stumbling from either the effects of sleep or the ale that they had drunk the previous evening.
Just 45 minutes after the alarm 68 men rode north. Others were to follow on foot as soon as possible.
It was early on the Wednesday 30th May. The moon provided sufficient light for them to find their way on the dirt track that ran through forest and meadow, the pathway taking them about five miles. As first light began to illuminate the sky at about 3.30am they were 115 strong, including the men collected at Frating and Alresford.
A little over a mile south of Wivenhoe they saw that two of the longships were in the process of beaching themselves on a mudflat while another fourteen continued to row north, oars dipping regularly as they headed into the narrowing estuary towards Colchester on the Colne River. Alan sent a rider hurrying on ahead to raise the alarm at Wivenhoe and to bring all available men able to carry arms.
Alan had his men and horses briefly rest, hidden behind a small rise in the ground, as the raiders began to disembark and wade through the mud towards the shore. Alan dismounted and stood with the rising sun at his back as he surveyed the scene.
There was a clearing some 200 paces wide with stands of trees and thick bushes to each side, on the north and south. The ground rose slowly until it reached the summit of the small mound on which he stood. The village was about a mile to the north, most of that distance covered by forest. It appeared that the raiders wanted to take the village by surprise with a massed charge.
Alan ordered 10 of his light cavalry and 20 archers into the forest on each side of the clearing, together with 15 spearmen and swordsmen on each side in support. Hugh took the right flank and Baldwin the left. This gave Alan 25 men, mainly thegns and their armoured men-at-arms that he had picked up along the way, to hold the front until the men from Wivenhoe arrived. Alan had them place themselves on the reverse side of the slope, lying down to hide their presence. There was muttering and dissent at this, the warriors wanting to stand and challenge their opponents in the traditional way, but Alan insisted on silence, stealth and ambush.
As the raiders struggled out of the mud by the water and onto firm earth the first of the men from Wivenhoe began to arrive in twos and threes and were put amongst the line which was to confront the enemy. Alan had four crossbowmen, who he stationed along the 50-pace wide frontline, when he noticed a thin man of medium height and dark complexion carrying what seemed an unusually long bow and arrows a full yard long. Alan walked towards him and greeted, “God Hael! That looks like a fierce grim weapon! What’s your name, and what can you do with that weapon?”
“As to my name, I’m Owain from Cardiff. As for my friend here, well your crossbowmen can shoot a bolt 200 paces, and if they are good can shoot two bolts a minute. At 200 paces, with no wind like this morning, I can ask you which eye you want me to put this arrow through, and shoot every five seconds.”
Alan clapped the Welshman on the shoulder. “You sound like the answer to my dreams! When we start, I want you to kill every Dane who looks like a leader or who is issuing instructions. Then kill the rest. Kill every mother’s son of them! How many arrows do you have?”
Owain smiled ruefully as he looked at the 100 or so Danes now forming up and starting to march up the clearing. “Not enough! Never mind, I’ll do my share!”
Just then Alan noticed Anne riding up accompanied by ten men. He hurried over, “What in God’s name do you think you are doing here? This is men’s work. You two, take your lady back to the village. You others, join the line.”
“Nay, Sir Knight!’ said Anne with spirit “This is my land and my people. I’ll stay.”
“Goddamn stupid woman!” muttered Alan under his breath, but obviously not quietly enough as Anne flushed with anger. Several of her accompanying warriors scowled; several others nodded agreement with Alan. “Right! Get over there in the trees,” he pointed behind and to one side. “Four men to protect yo
u. That’s four men less I have in the line to fight the Danes. Move! Go now!”
Turning back to the developing battle, Alan saw the Danes were moving in four groups each about 25 strong; they were bunched together and were half way along the clearing, walking as if they hadn’t a care in the world, talking and laughing as they went. Alan moved to kneel on one knee next to Owain. “I want that one with the red cloak at the head of the lead group first, then pick your targets well.”
He raised a trumpet to his lips and blew once. A hail of arrows rose from the forest on each side of the clearing, striking down the unsuspecting raiders. Owain’s first arrow took the leader in the throat and he dropped like a marionette with the strings cut.
Volley after volley of arrows hammered into the ranks of the Danes, who in response turned outwards, resulting in a large inverted V-shaped formation. Owain carefully shot down any man who was trying to organise resistance and the Danes stood shocked and confused, crouching behind their shields. Because there were archers on both flanks the Danes’ shields were little protection as each group facing the trees was vulnerable to attack from behind and many fell with an arrow in the back.
To close the range the archers had stepped out clear of the trees and stood 75 paces away carefully and almost arrogantly selecting their targets. With a hoarse shout about 20 Danish swordsmen broke from the right flank to attack the archers who were galling them from that flank. After shooting two more salvos into the advancing Danes, the archers turned and jogged back into the trees, where their supporting troops were waiting out of sight. The 11 men still remaining from the Danish charge disappeared into the tree-line and were not seen again. Two or three minutes later the archers reappeared and the hail of arrows resumed.
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