by Griff Hosker
Sir Philip rode out from his castle at Piercebridge to meet us. His castle had a fine view down the valley. As we rode towards Forcett I asked him what he knew of the manor.
“I never met this Sir Richard de Vernon. Until you said his name I had no idea he was lord of the manor. To be honest, Warlord, he just used the manor as a money pot. The manor house is falling down and the church lost its priest years ago. Most of the parishioners use my church even though it is a long walk. Last winter was a bad one and many of them would have starved had I not fed them. It is a good thing that Sir James has taken over the manor but he will need coin to make it the manor it was.”
James looked at me, “I do not mind, Warlord.”
“But you should. I will provide funds. We did well out of the ransoms we took in Brittany and Blois. There will be money coming from our siege at Chaumont. Fortify your hall and make sure that the people have enough food.”
When we passed the boundary of the manor I could see what Sir Philip meant. The huts were mean and ill kept. The people we saw looked thin and emaciated and this was harvest season when they should have had a glut. I turned to William, “We have a surplus?”
He nodded, “I will have the Steward send over some carts. This is unacceptable.”
The manor house was so decrepit that it was almost uninhabitable. I caught sight of James’ face. He was crestfallen. Then I saw his shoulders rise. He looked around as we dismounted. The manor house was built on a flat piece of ground. Close by was a slightly higher area. A small stream trickled away. He turned to me, “Warlord, what do you think of a new hall there?” He pointed. “The stream could be turned to make a moat. My men and I could live in the old hall until we completed the new one.”
I smiled. He had learned well. “It is a fine idea and I shall loan you some of our men when we return from Barnard.”
“You need not.”
“I know.”
A white bearded man came out of the hall. He looked worried to see so many armed and mailed men and then he recognised the banner held by Padraig, “Earl, this is unexpected.”
I walked towards him. I saw that he was younger than his beard might suggest. The running of the manor had aged him. “What is your name?”
“I am Ralph of Aldborough St. John, lord.”
“Well, Ralph, King Henry has stripped Sir Richard de Vernon of all of his lands. Sir James is the new lord of the manor.” I gestured to James.
The steward dropped to one knee, “I am sorry, lord. The hall is not what it should be. If you wish to dismiss me then I will understand.”
James showed how much he had grown. He raised the steward to his feet. “No, Ralph, we shall work together. Come, show me the hall.” He turned to me. “Thank you, Earl. My men and I will deal with this now.”
“First I need some questions answering.”
James nodded, “Of course, lord.”
I said, “Ralph, did Sir Richard ever visit this manor?”
“Twice Warlord. One was ten years since. He came to take the old lord’s horses and his mail.”
“And the other?”
“Six months’ or more since, lord. He came with some Scotsmen. They took the money we had gathered for the Sheriff’s tax collectors and they took some of the animals.” He dropped his head. “They also took two maids from one of the farms. We have not seen them since.”
Sir Philip looked shocked and said, “But why did you not say something to me. I could have helped.”
He shook his head and pulled up his tunic. Across his middle was a long angry scar. He had been slashed with a sharp-edged dagger. “His lordship did this and said he would be back in the spring for the next taxes. He said that if I told anyone…” Shaking his head he said, “I am sorry lord, I have a wife and a daughter.”
James put his arm around the Steward, “You have no need to worry now, Ralph. I am here. I have men at arms.”
“Lord, I do not doubt your intentions but Sir Richard had more than twenty men with him and there were thirty Scotsmen.” He shuddered, “They were wild men.”
I mounted my horse, “And the Warlord is back so that we shall have law again in the Tees Valley. I have been away long enough. My place is here. James, I will leave some of my men at arms here to help you build. You will need all the help that you can get.”
“Thank you, lord.”
As we headed back to Piercebridge William said, “Now I feel guilty. My attention was on the north. I neglected these lands.”
“Then I am even more guilty for I allowed a warband of over fifty men cross the river and I was unaware of it!”
“Hindsight is always perfect, Sir Philip. Let us learn from this. We both know that the river can be forded up and downstream from your bridge. Use small patrols and ask your people to keep watch. I believe that they might have seen these men but if they were as ruthless as Ralph suggested then they would shut their doors and hope that the angel of death passed them by. If anyone is at fault it is I. I have spent too long away. I remedy that mistake now.”
As we headed towards Sir Hugh’s castle William said, “We will not make it back to Stockton before night fall. I will send a messenger back. It would not do to worry my family.”
We rode in silence after Ralph of Nottingham rode back to Stockton. Each of us was lost in our thoughts. It was Samuel, inevitably, who broke the silence. “What happened to the two maids?”
I looked at William. This was a question a father had to answer. “You are almost a man Samuel and you should know that there are some men, including those who are knights, who are base. These men treat women like objects. They hurt them.” He looked back at me. I knew his wife’s secret. “The two girls may still be alive but, if they are, then they will be hurt. If we can we will rescue them and bring them home but I will not lie to you. They may lie rotting in some ditch.”
I saw that, in Samuel’s eyes, the glory of being a knight was a little tarnished by his father’s words. Padraig had had a hard life in Ireland and he was a little older than my grandson. He offered consolation. “The human spirit is tough, Samuel. Perhaps they live and retain a little hope in their hearts. So long as they believe that they can survive then they will. Your grandfather is their hope. He does not give up.”
Hugh’s castle improved each time I saw it. When he had first occupied it, many years earlier it had been a temporary measure to keep it from the hands of the Scots. It had been Balliol’s castle. It was only when King Henry took the throne that he became secure. He had made it stronger. Embrasures now covered the fighting platform. There was a double gate at the main entrance. He had built buttresses along his towers’ bases. He would defy a siege longer than Chaumont had.
His sons were growing and I saw that they were both squires. One looked ready for knighthood. That was good for we needed new blood. I had decided to leave ten of my men with James and so we were fewer when we reached the castle. It would make accommodation easier.
After greeting his family Sir Hugh took us, our squires and his sons to his Great Hall. “It is good to see you, Warlord, but I know that when you visit me it is not just to pass the time of day. There is something on your mind.”
I smiled, “You are right but I can see that your son Ralph is now a man grown and looks to be ready for knighthood. What say you Ralph? Are you ready?”
“I am lord, that is I hope that I am.”
Sir Hugh looked gratefully at me, “You have been absent lord and Sir William has, oft times, been guarding the north….”
“It is my fault. We are holding a feast for my knights at Stockton two days hence. That gives you time for a vigil and to prepare your spurs. We shall knight you then.”
My son said, “And, Sir Hugh, when Robert is ready for knighthood do not wait until my wandering father returns from his travels. My castle is but a day away.”
“I will lord.”
“And now to business. You are right Hugh. I have been sent back to England by King Henry with a ta
sk to perform. A traitor, Sir Richard de Vernon, has fled Normandy and is in Scotland. From the information we have he may well be helping King Malcolm’s younger brother William. I intend to seek him out and punish him. What do you know of King Malcolm’s condition?”
“As you know, lord, we have been here on the border for some time. Many of the ordinary Scots, not the lords, regard us not as enemies but as friends. In the harsh winter we recently endured it was my wife, Anne, who went forth with alms for the poor and the needy. There are no castles close by and the lords of the manors are absent. Consequently, when they come to my market they talk. The King is dying. He is at Jedburgh and the monks there are caring for him. The healers cannot understand his illness. As he fell ill in Doncaster his brother is spreading the word that he was poisoned by the English. It fuels the bad feeling further north for King Malcolm is well thought of.”
My son said, “That makes sense. And it might have been a Norman who poisoned him.”
I turned, “A Norman?”
“This was last year when de Vernon was coming back from Normandy. We know from his Steward that he was in England at the same time and that he came from the south. I am speculating but does this not reek to you of a French plot? King Malcolm swore fealty to King Henry. That means the Scots cannot go to war with us so long as he is on the throne. His brother, William, hates Normans.” He shrugged. “It makes sense to me.”
“No, you are right and I can now see it too. That makes it even more urgent that we find Vernon and his protégé, William.”
Sir Hugh said, “I have heard nothing of this Norman but William is at Dùn Èideann. It is the centre of Scottish power.”
“Then I would have you keep a good watch here on the border. I will not use your men. With my men heading north you are needed to protect the valley.”
Ralph said, “But I could go with you, could I not, lord?”
I looked at Hugh who nodded, “Of course. It might be good for you to ride with my knights.”
He looked delighted while his brother, Robert, looked disappointed. All squires wished to be where there was action. A brave deed could result in a knighthood on the battlefield.
We headed back at dawn for Stockton. The land to the north of us, while ostensibly England was a debatable land. The border ran from Carlisle, north east, to Norham. William was thoughtful as we headed back. “Sir Hugh’s words made me realise that I have been remiss. I have only knighted Sir Harold’s son, Richard. It should be an annual ceremony. We are building here in the north and we need young knights who will follow on from those who have protected it up to now.”
“You have done what was asked of you. This is an omission at best. But you are right. Those young knights who were my squires now have sons of their own.” Harold had seen more than fifty summers; John and Leofric almost that many. Gilles, Tristan, Philip, all were men with families almost grown. “And how is Wulfric? How is my bear?”
“He is getting old.” My son looked hesitantly at me. “He looks older than you, father and yet I know he is younger. He drinks and eats well. It shows.”
That hit me hard. Dick was almost my age and yet he still looked hale and hearty. He looked after himself. He seemed to dedicate himself to archery. Wulfric had neither wife nor companion. He lived in his manor and did as he pleased.
We were approaching Sadberge when Samuel spied something. He pointed, “Father, over there, just off the trail there are circling crows and magpies.”
Padraig laughed, “There are always crows and magpies. It means nothing.”
I shook my head, “My grandson is right. It is unusual. The two birds do not flock together unless…”
My son finished my sentence, “Unless they feast on something.” He drew his sword and I drew mine. Our men were immediately on the alert. The ground rose steadily towards the small village. In Saxon times it had been more important than Stockton but the lack of castle and hall, allied to the Scottish raids meant that fewer people lived there.
Now that we had seen there was something unusual we looked for signs and we saw them. There had been an orchard of sorts in times past. The farm which had been used as a hideout had fallen into disrepair. A horse and rider, perhaps two, had ridden through the trees. There were more windfalls between two of them. The hoofprints could be clearly seen heading for the flocking carrion. When we reached them, they took off in a screaming feather filled flight. I saw rats running for cover too. There was a body.
“Spread out and look for others.”
I dismounted, and walked across to the body which was face down. When I turned it over I saw that it was Ralph of Nottingham. He had been killed and then disfigured.
“What treachery is this?”
John of Chester shouted, “Sir William, look here!”
We rushed over. John of Chester was eighty paces from us. I saw, as we ran, that there was a great deal of dried blood on the grass and the leaves of the trees. John of Chester was standing over a body. From his garb and his hair, he was a Scot. He had been wounded and crawled here to die.
John of Chester pointed, “I think that others were wounded too. See the hoofprints of the horse are deeper than they were. It is carrying double. And the horse belonged to Ralph of Nottingham.”
“How do you know?”
“He marked his hooves. See,” he pointed and we could see that there was a distinctive mark. It looked to be on the right foreleg. “We all mark our own. If we are captured it makes us easier to track.” He suddenly looked back at the body. “That is Ralph of Nottingham?”
“It is.”
He kicked the body in the head, “Bastard Scots!”
“We take Ralph’s body back. Search the Scot and see if there are any clues to his identity.”
“You think he might be one of the Scots with de Vernon?”
“He could be.” We started to walk back to our horses. “This could be a coincidence. If the Scots had a bad winter last year then there might be some brigands around here. On the other hand, if this is one of the men with Vernon then it is more sinister.”
As we mounted John of Chester said, “He had nothing with him. They strippedthe body anything of value, including his boots.”
The lack of a message from me had set my town and castle into a state of panic. There was relief when we arrived. Once the garrison heard of the death there was an outcry. Ralph was very popular. With my three scouts in the north we would have to search for enemies ourselves. Harold of Hartburn, Wulfric of Thornaby and Tristan of Yarm were the nearest knights to Stockton and I sent two riders to each to ask them to search their lands for Scots or Brigands. That left Norton, Thorpe, and Wulfestun. I sent Richard of Stockton to Norton, my son William to Wulfestun and I went with Dick and his archers to Thorpe. There were forests which stretched almost from Hartness in the east to Coatham in the west. Harold would be searching from the Tees to his own manor. I thought it unlikely that any Scot or brigand would take shelter south of the river. Yarm and Thornaby were unlikely hiding places. Thorpe, on the other hand had often been riddled with bandits. We had scoured it many times.
Most of my men at arms were with Sir James but I still had eight I could take and with twelve of Dick’s archers I was confident that we could rid my land of any bandits. As we headed north, up the Durham Road, I hoped that it was bandits or brigands. If this was a band of men sent by the Scots then it was much more worrying. We rode without helmets. We needed to see and to hear. We spoke with the farmers we passed. They confirmed that they had seen tracks on the ground. The recent rains clearly showed them. They also reported the odd sheep being taken. That was more worrying. If this was bandits then they would take more than one or two. They would have stolen the flock. It sounded like someone was watching us.
The forest through which we rode was riddled with streams, small valleys and hidden dells. My archers dismounted and their horses were led by my men at arms. With nocked arrows they examined the ground. Tomas ap Tomas found the sign. It
was a hoof print. He waved us over. I dismounted and saw that the horse was Ralph of Nottingham’s. We had found them. Dick looked at the trail. He used signs to tell his men what to do. This was his sort of war. He would find these men. He held his finger up to test the wind and nodded. It would take our enemies’ smell to us. The archers simply disappeared. Dick smiled and pointed north west. He too disappeared. I waved a hand and my men spread out to the left and right of me.
The ground was falling away. We walked through dark patches which seemed more the underworld than a forest and then were almost blinded as we rode into clearings. After half a mile or so Henry Warbow rose like a wraith and pointed north. The trail had changed direction. I drew my sword and waved it around my head. My men all drew their swords. Henry Warbow disappeared.
After a few hundred yards more, I smelled smoke. Others had even keener senses than I did. We peered into the gloom of the trees. We kept moving forward. We could not do so completely silently. Some of my men were leading four horses but the noise would be hard to detect. This would be especially true if they were in a camp and talking. We were now more than three miles from where we had picked up their trail. They would be confident that no one would be looking for them.
Then I saw the flash of white. It was flesh. We did not charge towards the camp. We rode steadily and slowly. My men dropped the reins of the archers’ horses. They would not wander andmy men would need their hands free to fight. We were actually within a hundred and twenty paces when we were seen. There was a cry of alarm and men ran for weapons. I spurred Skuld and he leapt forward. The clearing was large enough for more men than we saw. One warrior hurled a spear at me. I pulled my shield around and it bounced off it. To hit a horseman with a hand thrown spear was difficult. I brought my sword around with the flat of the blade and struck him hard on the side of the head. I wanted a prisoner. He fell in a heap. Four others fell to my men at arms and the rest tried to flee. A flurry of arrows greeted them.
