Poisonous Plots (Anarchy Book 17)

by Griff Hosker

  My men at arms were rwturned to me for James had built his hall. He also brought us more information about the two girls who had been abducted. It seemed that the Scots and Sir Richard de Vernon had not just taken and abused the girls, they had slain the father, a well-respected farmer and raped and killed his wife.

  James said, “I know I was not there when this happened, lord, but I was the lord of the manor. I feel honour bound to recover the girls.”

  “It would be hard, James. They are far beyond the border and even the King of Scotland would be powerless.”

  Nonetheless, Earl, when you go north to battle the Scots I pray that you take me with you. I owe it to the people of my manor.”

  “Of course.” He was now a lord of the manor and, unlike the Bishop of Durham, he knew what that entailed. There were responsibilities as well as privileges.

  A few days after we returned I raised the thorny issue of the spy in Stockton. I went with William to my gate where we could survey the gate and the town. “It has to be someone who has access to the castle and the town. It is someone who is hidden in plain sight.”

  “And as such almost impossible to spot.” My son stared at the town and the people who bustled in and out of the gate. To enter the castle, they had to pass through my north gate. It was adjacent to the western gate of the town. There were my sentries on my gate and the town watch kept a guard n their gate. No stranger could get by without scrutiny. He pointed and said, “It is simple enough, we stop all from entering the castle save those who live here.”

  “That would not work. Firstly, it would alert our spy that we were on to him and secondly, we would be cutting off our noses to spite our faces. The majority of those who have access to the castle are legitimate. I think we use Ralph of Bowness.” He was in the inner bailey and I shouted down to him, “Ralph, a word!”

  He joined us and we explained our problem. Like me he understood how difficult it was. “It seems to me, lord, that we have to let them spy on us and catch them in the act.” I waited for him to elaborate. “They only need to show themselves when you or his lordship makes a decision. It would be a foolish spy who reported when we sent a patrol out or when a visitor arrived unless that was an important man. What I will do is to watch for men who leave the town when a visitor arrives.” He suddenly stopped, “It must be someone who has a horse or a pony. Otherwise the message would take too long to go north.”

  I looked to the river and said, “Or a boat.”

  Ralph had lived at the castle long enough to have the rhythm of the town in his head, “Then it would have to be a number of men for the fishermen and those who use the river have crews of three or four. With respect, Earl, it is a man and he has a horse.” He paused, “I know that I am but a castellan yet this is my home. When decisions are made which might interest our enemies I will alert my men.”

  “Unless it is one of those.”

  My son shook his head, “We cannot think that. Once we doubt our warriors our enemies have won. We both know our men. Ralph knows our men. It is another.”

  They were both right and Ralph spread the word amongst his garrison. There were just eighteen of them and they were sworn to secrecy. All had been warriors and they kept their word.

  As the whole family would be in Stockton for Christmas Rebekah made great preparations. It was not a festival her faith celebrated but her family did and she could see nothing in the celebration of the birth of a Jew which might cause her problems. I knew, from my son, that her early life had been hard. It had been compounded by the massacre of her family. Since she had come to England the peace of my town had made her bloom into a stunning dark-haired beauty. My son was lucky to have had a second chance of happiness. He had had that which I had never had. Rebekah and Alice got on well and it was a harmonious preparation. It was a process which began when we lit the bone fire.

  The bone fire was an ancient custom. They would have practised it before the Romans came. The farmers culled every animal which would not make it through the winter. We saved more than most others. The skins and the hides were sent to the tanners. The sheepskins were also used. The flesh was taken from the bones and salted. Of course, we always ate well at the time of the bone fire. Any cuts of meat which would not preserve well were consumed. Then the bones were put to one side. In times past some had been carved and used as tools but as Alf’s sons could make stronger ones from iron that practice had ceased. Most of the bones were gathered on the open ground between my town and the Ox Bridge which crossed the Lustrum beck.

  We had a large number of trees which we copsed for firewood. Many lords of the manor kept those for themselves but my son and I shared nature’s bounty so that our people were warm in winter. The smaller branches and the piles of fallen leaves were added to the bone fire and then it was lit. It was normally at the same time as the pagan festival of Samhain. People drank warmed ale and gathered around the fire. I suspect that our ancestors had done much the same before they had been converted. When the ash had cooled farmers would take it and spread it on the fields. It improved the land and made for a better crop.

  It was after that event that preparations for Christmas began. In many ways it was nothing to do with the birth of Christ. It was another way of preserving what little food we had and feasting upon it during the shorted days of the year. Inevitably there was spoiled meat. It was minced and mixed with any fruit which was unlikely to last until the New Year. When mixed with some precious spices, of which we had plenty, and some of the older bottles of wine, it could be made into puddings which would be eaten at Christmas. The rest was kept in wine topped jars to be made into pies closer to the time. Nothing was wasted.

  I did not have time to think of preparations for Christmas. I had letters to write to Sir Leofric and to the King. Although I would send them by ship I would have to entrust one of my men with the task of delivering them. I was acutely aware that it was a dangerous task and I picked the man I thought would best be able to handle himself. I chose Alain of Auxerre. I wrote the letters and then told him an abridged version. He would go first to the King and thence to Sir Leofric. That done I sat with William and we planned a spring campaign.

  Sir Morgan was now a knight and he had taken over the vacant manor of Seamer. It had no castle but it had a manor house. Harold’s youngest son, Walter, was his squire. I had plans for another manor for him but Seamer would allow him to learn how to be a lord of the manor. Consequently, it was just Sir Richard, and our three squires who sat in the Great Hall and planned.

  We made lists of the knights we would take from the valley and the ones we would use who were already in Northumbria. Then we estimated numbers of men at arms and archers.

  “We will have to leave sufficient men in the valley.”

  I nodded, “True, Richard but it is unlikely that there would be any greater danger than the Scots trying to retake Northumbria. Besides we have Ralph and our Stockton garrison.”

  My son asked, “And the levy? Do we raise the fyrd?”

  I smiled, “What do you think?”

  He laughed, “We both know that the fyrd are willing but they are best reserved for standing on Stockton’s walls and fighting off foes here.”

  Samuel said, “Why do we have to wait for an attack? As soon as King Malcolm is dead we should attack them in their land!”

  My grandson had the mind of a general. He understood strategy. His was the right plan but for one thing. “That would break the peace. If we break the peace then no matter what this William does we will be at fault. In fact, I would go further, I expect Sir Richard de Vernon to engineer something which tries to make us invade Scotland.”

  William smiled at Samuel, he also appreciated his thinking, “You see Samuel, King Henry and his Empire are unpopular. The Pope and the other Kings, Dukes, Counts and princes, are suspicious. They see our King as an Empire builder and they do not like that. The Holy Roman Empire is almost gone but they would rather have that power for it resides in Europe and
not on this little island. They would love to censure King Henry. Scotland would appear as the poor, innocent victim of England’s aggression. Your grandfather is the King’s representative and he has a hard task.”

  I nodded agreement, “What we will do is to leave for Hexham as soon as the winter snow disappears.”

  I could see that I had surprised my son. “Why Hexham? Surely the New Castle or Morthpath would be better as gathering places. Perhaps even Norham.”

  I took the map which had been added to over the years. “Northumbria is large. In the north there is Norham. It has a good castle and a fine castellan. If you come down the coast you can see other well-built and strategically sited castles. We have improved them all since the civil war ended. There is Bamburgh, Alnwick, Warkworth and, of course, the New Castle. Any one of those castles will hold up invaders. Suppose, however, they avoid them. What if they come south the same way that we did and cross the river at one of the old Roman bridges? They could attack the New Castle from two sides.”

  Sir Richard frowned, “You are gambling that they will attack that way, Earl Marshal?”

  “No. That is what I would do. Perhaps they have not thought of it. But Hexham is the best place to intercept a Scottish army. It is no more than thirty odd miles to all of the castles from Alnwick to the New Castle. There is only Norham and Bamburgh which are more than a day’s ride.”

  Samuel peered at the map and then took out a bow string. He began to measure. We said nothing but watched. He had a wax tablet and he wrote down figures. Finally, he said, “But if we based ourselves along the Coquet valley we are less than thirty miles from all of the castles save Norham and on the line of approach the Scots would take.”

  I had not thought of that and I stared at the map. My son said, “And there is a tower at Otterburn and an old motte and bailey at Rothbury. We could split our men between them. I think it is a good idea.”

  They all looked at me. I smiled and said, “I am not too proud to recognise that my grandson has a quick mind. The Coquet valley it is.”

  Once we had made that decision the rest became easy. I would visit with the Sheriff and then ride to the castles to explain our strategy. We would have to move quickly when we moved and each castle would have to be able to be self-sufficient, at least until we could get to them.

  My mind was full of the plans and, unlike the rest of the castle, I could find no joy in the celebrations for Christmas. I still brooded on the death of Dick. I was alone in my solar when there was a tap on the door. “Come.”

  It was Ruth, “I wondered why you were alone grandfather. You do not join in the feasting. Are you sad?”

  “A little; I have lost an old friend.”

  She came and sat on the stool next to my chair and rested her head upon my leg. “You have lost many people have you not, grandfather?”

  “Aye.”

  “My grandmother, the girl who would have grown to be my aunt, all the men you fought alongside, the King and now the Empress too. How do you bear such losses? My little dog died last year and I still cry each night. I never see you cry. Is that because men do not cry?”

  “Men cry. I cry. I saw your father cry when his first family died. Now I cry in private. I weep inside.”

  “But why are you sad? Are they not in heaven?”

  “I believe that they are but they were all taken too soon. Your grandmother would have loved to have met you and Samuel. My father always wanted a daughter and he had none. You would have made his world.”

  “Really? Would he not have preferred a boy?”

  I picked her up and put her on my knee, “Of course not.”

  “Yet everyone makes a fuss of Samuel. I wish I was a boy!”

  I held her tightly, “Now listen to me, we all love you as much as Samuel.”

  “Then why is he allowed in here with you and father planning the war?”

  “Would you like to sit with us when next we plan?”

  “Yes!”

  “Then you shall. You may find it dull but you are more than welcome to sit and join in the talk.”

  She threw her arms around my neck, “Oh thank you grandfather! You are the best grandfather!”

  I did not say that I was her only grandfather. I had to do the work of two. “You shall help me now for you have numbers do you not? And you can read well?”

  She jumped off my knee and sat on the stool again, “I can read better than Samuel! I can read Latin!”

  “Good. Then I will tell you how many men we have and you will total them.”

  It was sometime later that Rebekah found us. Ruth was asleep on my knee. “We wondered where she had gone.”

  “She was feeling left out. She helped me to work out the numbers of men we would need.”

  William appeared behind her. “You knew that already.”

  I smiled, “It was good to have my numbers confirmed. I am not as old as I thought. Thank you for your daughter. She is a delight.”

  William picked her up and took her out. Rebekah took my hand and kissed me on my cheek. “I think she has much of her grandfather in her. Thank you. I do not know what we would do without you.”

  “It is I who must thank you for you have given me a second life.” I pointed at the cloak left by Ruth, “I have given too much time to Samuel. I must make the time for Ruth. Who knows how long I have left.”

  My son’s beautiful wife leaned over and kissed me on the forehead, “The long nights and the winter induces this melancholy. You will live a long time, father.”

  Christmas came and went. It was wonderful. Thanks to my granddaughter and daughter in law I could not remember a happier Christmas. After everyone had gone to bed I went to the walk way. The sentries smiled; they had all been allowed a good drink. They wished me merry Christmas and I did the same. I stood and looked south, across the river. The sentries had given me space and so I spoke. I spoke to the spirits and I spoke to the dead. “Adela, father, Dick and Maud, you have left behind you a fine family. If I died tomorrow I would be a happy man for I have a good family and a secure manor. I hope that you look down and see what a joy they are. I cannot believe my luck. I pray that God grants me more time amongst my family and my people, but, if not, then I am content for I have done all that I swore I would and no man can ask more.”

  I stood in silence and waited for a wind or a breeze to gainsay me. I heard nothing save the peace of the valley. The spirits were content. I was content. I headed back, down the fighting platform. My men waved cheerily to me. I did not see their faces. I saw the faces of the dead. I saw Dick and the Knights of the Empress. I saw Ralph of Nottingham, Edward and Wulfstan. I saw the men at arms and archers who had perished following my banner. I was resolved. The Scots and the traitor would be defeated. I would make it so.

  I took my squire and ten men at arms when I left at Epiphany. The snow was not as thick as usual and I took a chance. By travelling up the coast I would avoid the worst of the weather. Samuel was most upset at being left behind but, after my conversation with Ruth, I would not bring him. Padraig was my squire and not Samuel. I took Edgar with me. I wished him to scout out the land to the north. He left us as we neared the Tyne. He would meet us back at Stockton.

  It was a cold and uncomfortable journey but necessary. We wrapped up as we rode from castle to castle. First, I headed to the New Castle. I explained my plans to the Sheriff. He was a powerful noble but he deferred to me. I was Earl Marshal. Then I headed to Morthpath. The castellan there had fought alongside me before. He needed no persuasion. His men would be vigilant. Warkworth and then Alnwick showed me that my barons knew the dangers from the north. All of them understood the implications of a King William. My last call was Norham. I was made most welcome at the last outpost of England.

  Sir Robert had held Norham since it had been returned to us after the peace we had negotiated. He knew that he was in the most dangerous place of all yet he seemed quite happy about it. “This is a well-built castle and the site is perfect. My m
en at arms and knights ride each day. We brandish our swords at the Scots from Berwick and they do the same yet they know that to take it they would have to fight their way across the river and try to scale the rocks and the walls. Even the Scots are not that foolish!”

  I nodded, “I do not think that you will be the first point of attack but when they strike further south the Lord of Berwick would be a fool if he did not try to take this jewel of the north.”

  “You are right and I thank you for the warning. We will be vigilant. Spring is when you expect an attack?”

  “That is what I think but you may know first. If you hear that the King is dead then lock your gates and send word south for that will be the start of the storm.”

  It was almost the end of February when we returned south. A late flurry of snow had made travelling even more uncomfortable. There had been a thaw and the snow had fallen on soft ground making the trail slippery and slick. The twelve of us had grown close during the ride. Those lords who did not get to know their men at arms were fools. By eating and sleeping together, by sharing the same hardships it was as though our armour was strengthened. We had left Warkworth and were heading for Morthpath when Geoffrey FitzMaurice, who was riding ahead, stopped and held up his hand. Immediately all of us became alert. To any who were waiting it would not appear so but I saw the stiffening of shoulders and the tightening of knees on horses’ flanks. We had not yet donned helmets but we all slid our swords in our scabbards. When there was frost a blade could stick. The two at the rear, Henry and Tom turned their horses to watch behind us. We waited.

  Geoffrey slid from his horse and walked her back to us. He stopped as though to examine a fetlock. When he reached me, I dismounted and I knelt as though to examine the horse’s leg. “Lord there are tracks and I think that, in the stand of trees, men wait to ambush us.”