Baron's War

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Baron's War Page 12

by Griff Hosker


  Sir William coughed a little as the wine was poured into his mouth. He opened his eyes. “You have brought all your people?”

  “I have.”

  “Good. I feel sleepy. I shall just rest my eyes for a while.” His breathing was so shallow that I feared he might be dead already.

  My aunt held her husband’s hand and mine. I wondered if he would just slip away in his sleep. He was barely breathing. My aunt looked at me and gave me a wan smile. To break the silence I said, “Sir William barely knows me. I met him just a few times and yet he gives me that which my heart most desires, Stockton.”

  She patted my hand, “He knew your quality the moment he met you. He said you had something about you. In you was every distillation of the true knight. All of your actions from the moment you left us confirmed it. With each letter and deed his admiration grew.”

  “Even the death of the Bishop?”

  “In many ways that marked you as a knight with ideals. The Bishop had done wrong and it was right that he was punished. Sir William may not have approved of your method but he said that it took courage to do as you did.”

  I took those words in and looked at the old knight I had barely known. I am not sure how long we sat there. Time seemed to stop. The only sound we heard was his laboured breathing. Suddenly he opened his eyes and looked at his wife, “My love you are still here.”

  She leaned forward and kissed his brow. “Where else would I be lord save at the side of the man I have loved more than life itself?”

  “And for me I just regret that I did not meet you sooner. We were meant to be together and I am just sorry for whatever sin I committed which has caused this disease.”

  “You committed no sin. Now rest. Perhaps Sir Thomas’ arrival has helped you begin to heal.”

  It was a vain hope. His body shook in a final paroxysm of pain and he forced a smile, “Farewell my love I…”

  The old knight lay still. His breathing had ceased. We sat there for a moment and then my aunt prostrated herself on his body. I stood and left the chamber. Outside were the priest and my wife. The priest looked at me. I said, simply, “It is over.”

  He nodded, “I will go and say prayers for his soul and prepare for his burial. This is a sad time but welcome to the manor, Lord Thomas.”

  Margaret hugged me and then, as she pulled away said, “Lord of the manor?”

  I nodded, “Strange is it not? He adopted me and made me his heir before he died. The priest attested to the arrangement. This is our new home.” I looked around, “The children?”

  “They are in bed. The housekeeper and the steward were kind. We have fine rooms. My women watch them.”

  The door opened and Lady Ruth appeared. Wiping a tear from her eye she smiled, “You must be Margaret. My nephew has told me much about you in his letters. You are even more beautiful than I imagined. I cannot wait to see the children. I will move from my rooms tomorrow. You are lady of the manor.”

  Before I could say anything, my wife shook her head, “No, Lady Ruth. We are grateful for a roof. We would not dream of putting you from your room.”

  “Come then, we will drink wine and toast Sir William. We do not grieve for he is not in pain any longer and he was glad that Sir Thomas returned. This is a time for celebration and joy. We will bury him on the morrow and then we can hold a feast to welcome your people. Stockton needs this influx of new blood. Between them the Bishop’s nephew and King John were like leeches sucking the life from this town.” She raised her goblet, “To Sir William, a good knight and a better husband.”

  “Sir William.”

  We drank and each of us was silent. Lady Ruth thought of her husband and I thought of the tricks fate plays. I think my wife was taking in the change in our circumstances.

  Lady Ruth smiled and broke the silence, “Did you have a good voyage?” We told her of the attack and our experience.

  “You poor dears! That must have been awful for you.” She smiled, “Although I suspect Alfred might well have enjoyed the experience.” Margaret yawned and Lady Ruth said, “Go to bed. I have work to do. My husband must be prepared for burial.”

  She would not allow us to help her and so we went to bed. We had been given the room which I had occupied whilst growing up. It seemed smaller somehow.

  The next day was not the first day I had envisaged. Instead of taking my son and my men to explore the town and the manor we crammed into the tiny church to say goodbye to Sir William. Most of my men had to wait outside. Sir William had, apparently, planned his own funeral. He was to be buried outside the church and not with my family. It was the mark of the man. He did not wish to intrude, even in death. The stonemason had already made the stone which would lay on top of it and we stood around the grave in silence.

  My wife and her ladies stood with Lady Ruth. They comforted her. As Sir Edward and I led my men to return to the hall, David of Wales said, “Lord what is this?” He pointed to a stone in the graveyard.

  “Dick was my great grandfather’s archer. If you speak with those in the town they still remember his name. He came with the Warlord when a young man. He had been an outlaw in Sherwood.”

  David nodded, “And yet he is buried here amongst the great and the good.”

  I nodded, “And he was knighted although the great man did not use his title.”

  David of Wales nodded, “The great men never do, lord. It is only the weak and the venal who hide behind titles.” He looked around. “Lord, this is a fine manor. I take it that this will be our new home?”

  “It will.”

  Ridley the Giant had been standing nearby and he joined us. “Then we need a new hall lord. Last night we slept in the stables. They were large enough but we cannot use those as our quarters.”

  I had not known and he was right. “Then our first task is to build a hall.” I looked around. There had once been a mighty gatehouse facing the north. That had been the focus of many Scottish attacks. I led the two of them to the ground where it had stood. Using my dagger, I scraped away the top soil. The blade rang on stone. “It is as I thought, the foundations remain. As I remember this was a gatehouse with double gates. We have good foundations. There is no reason why we cannot build a hall with two floors; one for the archers and one for the men at arms. We can build it with a fighting platform and a door which emerges from the second floor.”

  Ridley frowned, “Why not build it with crenulations and towers? We could make it a second keep.”

  “I have yet to visit the Bishop of Durham but I do not think he will allow us to build what amounts to a castle. We will have to be clever about this.” I smiled, “What think you, David of Wales, should we dig a ditch around it to the river? It will drain away the water for this ground will flood in winter.”

  He smiled, “Of course, lord and we can build a bridge. That way we could remove the bridge if we had to.”

  I nodded, “Precisely. There is a mason in the town, or there was. His sire, William, helped to build the castle. I will ask my aunt.”

  “And the stone?”

  I looked around. There was some but nowhere near enough. “There is a quarry west of here. Do you remember, Edward?”

  “Aye lord it lies between Piercebridge and Barton.”

  “Then ask Captain Henry to take you and some men thence. I will give you coin to buy the stone.”

  He nodded and looked around, “Lord when I left to join you I thought that Stockton had fallen far. This is even worse than I thought. I do not think it can go much lower. There is precious little money in this town. How will you earn an income?”

  “I know not but my great grandfather came with less and you know what he managed to build up.” He nodded. “Ridley, leave Godwin in command of the men. Have them begin work on the hall. I want you and David to ride with me to Whorlton. I must speak with Sir Ralph. We have much to tell him.”

  “The horses are still unsteady after the journey lord.”

  “I will take Skuld. She is hardy. Choos
e the best of the rest. It is not far.”

  When I reached the hall Fótr hurried off to prepare my mail. I knew not what lay between Stockton and Sir Ralph’s manor. Lady Ruth and my wife entered. Alfred was holding his great aunt’s hand. She smiled, “Your son is a delight, Thomas. Sir William would have loved him.”

  “He has his moments. Aunt I have asked my men to begin to build a hall for them. I would use the old gatehouse. Do we have a mason?”

  “Leofric. He is the grandson of William. He is the one who carved Sir William’s grave but there is precious little stone left. It was taken away when the castle was dismantled.”

  “I am sending Sir Edward to the quarries by Barton. He will buy some. I go to Whorlton with Fótr, David and Ridley.”

  Alfred shouted, “Can I come?”

  “No, my son for with Edward and me away I need you to watch the ladies. Besides you need to explore your new home.”

  He nodded. I saw my aunt smile. Alfred would be as close to a grandchild as she would ever have. He would replace her dead husband. He would not want for fuss. When I was dressed I went to the quayside to pay off the other captains. As they headed downstream I handed over more coin to Sir Edward. The small chest Fótr had carried was now empty. Edward said, “Soon, lord, your coffers will be empty.”

  “Then, Sir Edward, we will find some way of filling them. When I return, tomorrow, from Sir Ralph, I will have a better idea of our finances.”

  As we crossed the river on the ferry I wondered about Wulfestun. My aunt had held that manor. I wondered if she still did or would that be another argument I might have with the Bishop of Durham? The three men with whom I rode had never seen this land. To me it was familiar. We passed Thornaby. The church remained but Sir Wulfric’s castle was gone. My aunt had told me that the manor was so poor that it was not a lord who held it but a reeve. He was a man who ran a manor for a lord. I would need to speak to him.

  The ride was but eighteen miles. We passed through the manors of Maltby and Hutton. Both had churches but I saw that there were no castles. When my father had been lord of Stockton there had been no need for castles here. His castle stopped any attacks from the north. As we passed through them I could not help notice that the villagers appeared thin and gaunt. Life was not easy in this land which was mismanaged by King John and his Sherriffs.

  We had passed through Hutton after watering our horses in the Leven and Ridley asked, “Who is lord of this land?”

  I shrugged, “No one of importance else there would be a fine hall or a castle. The Sherriff of York is King John’s man.” I could see that the three of them were confused. “Sherriffs were a useful tool in times past. They helped the King to manage the many manors in this land. Under old King Henry they were dispensers of justice. When King Richard went to war and John became Regent, they changed. King John used them as a way to increase his power. He could do little about the barons directly but by appointing the Sherriffs he was able to control them indirectly. He uses taxes as a weapon. The Sherriff has a garrison of men at arms. If barons oppose the Sherriff then they oppose the King.”

  They nodded and then Fótr, who had grown more thoughtful as he grew older, said, “What if the barons rebelled?”

  I reined in Skuld, “This must go no further. I would not have Sir Ralph know this but the barons did rebel. The difference was that it was not like Normandy. They did not combine. It was minor acts of defiance. It is what got Sir Ralph’s father killed and why Sir Richard remains in Anjou.”

  I saw the scales fall from their eyes as all became clear.

  “I will remain silent on the matter, lord.”

  Whorlton was well named. The hill upon which the village and castle stood was on a whirling hill at the edge of the moors. The land below was fertile while the moors were desolate. Patches of forest and woodland dotted the west facing hills. Sir Ralph had done well in the short time he had been here. There was a wooden castle. It looked like Sir Ralph had recently deepened the ditch and improved the defences. The Dowager Queen had told me that permission had been granted to build a castle. This looked like the original one. It would need to be built of stone. We had been spied from afar and were greeted at the gate. “My lord. It is good to see you.” He looked around. “Where are the rest of the men and your family?”

  I dismounted, “I have much to tell you. First let me walk the walls of your castle and you can tell me of your situation.”

  As we walked he confirmed that the manor was run down. There was a fine church with an avenue of yew trees and there were a dozen or so crude houses but the people were poor. It seemed they eked out a living growing little more than what they needed. We looked east to the moors. “That is part of the manor, is it not?”

  “Aye lord and we hunt in the woods and use the timber but that provides little.”

  “What about sheep?”

  “Sheep, lord?”

  “They are hardy creatures and require little more than that for grazing. We could export the wool to La Flèche. There is a market there. If we built a few walls to enclose them it would provide an income. They just need a shepherd and would use land which is otherwise wasted.”

  “That is a good idea, lord.” He turned to look at me. “Then you do not return here with your family, lord?”

  “I will tell you more when we eat. Now about these wooden walls. We can make them of stone. To the south the nearest stone castle is Helmsley and to the north, Durham! I cannot build a stone castle at Stockton.” He gave me a surprised look. “I will tell you all later. If this is made of stone then we can control a larger area.” My aunt, when we had been watching Sir William die, had told me of the many incursions from the Scots. Now that the manor of Stockton had no castle they often ravaged the valley. Hartburn, Elton, even Norton had all been ransacked. “The Scots will raid south of the river if they can for the Bishop of Durham is indolent. You can spy their raiding parties from here. You can see all the way to the Tees.”

  “My men have but six horses and two of those are poor.”

  “Then you will find or breed more. Horses are the key to controlling this land and to beating the Scottish raiders.”

  “Where will I get stone, lord?” he hesitated, “And how will I pay for it?”

  I swept my arm around me. “Unlike the Loir and the Tees this is not a river valley with clay. You have rocks all around you. Hew rocks from close by and use those. This needs not be a pretty castle. It needs to be a rock. You remember how we built the towers at La Lude?” He nodded. “Then use the same technique. The better stones on the outside. Large stones on the inside and then infill with whatever waste stone you have.”

  Ridley said, “Lord, you can plaster your walls on the inside and that will cover much of the roughness.”

  Sir Ralph smiled, “I confess lord, I thought that I was caretaker for you. Now that I know this is to be my home I can have a better idea of how to build.”

  I nodded, “And build for a wife and family, Ralph. You are a bachelor knight now but will not always be so. I need you to make new knights whom my son can lead.”

  The next day, as we left I could see that I had given him much to think on. “Thank you, lord, for your advice. It is sage. I just wish my uncle was here. I miss him.”

  “I do not think he will visit. There are many reasons. I will be sending my ship there regularly. Write him letters and I will send them.”

  When we reached Stockton, I could see that my men had cleared the soil from the foundations. There was no sign of my ship. I did not expect to see it. It would take time to bring the stone from the quarry to the river and then to load it.

  That evening I told my aunt and my wife of my plans. “You will need to speak with the Bishop of Durham. You will need to take Father Roger with you.”

  “What about Father Abelard? Will he have a position here?”

  I looked at my wife. I had forgotten my priest. “I have had much on my mind, wife. I will think about him when I have time. Aunt
what about Wulfestun? Is there still a hall there?”

  “There is. It still belongs to me for I bought it. I have a couple of retainers who keep it for me. The last Scottish raid killed the men there and took the women and girls as slaves. Why? Do you wish me to return thence?”

  I shook my head, “No, my lady. That is the last thing on my mind. I have brought many men with me and Wulfestun lies north of here. I thought to put Sir Edward there. He can be our sentinel who watches for the Scots when they come.”

  “That is a wonderful idea.”

  “Then Sir Edward can build a church and Father Abelard can be the priest there.”

  My wife beamed, “You are a clever man, husband!”

  “And I thought to have him and his men help mine to make a cut in the Tees. If we link the two bends close to Norton and Billingham we can speed the journey to the sea for our ships and increase the ground we can farm. My captain believes that a shorter journey will increase trade. If we can get sheep for Sir Ralph then we can send the wool to Anjou. We need trade through our port!”

  She patted my hand. “You are so much like my father. He was always looking to better the lives of his people. When I think of where we were and now this nadir…” Her eyes welled with tears and she shook her head.

  My wife smiled and held Lady Ruth’s hand. “My husband is resourceful but he works too hard. We will barely see him until Whorlton is built, the cut is made and we are secure.” Lady Ruth nodded. She was unable to speak.

  “I needs must visit the Bishop and I will have to travel to York. Other than that, my love, I will be a home bird until our nest is built.”

  She smiled, “Good for we have another chick which will be here in six months.”

  “You are with child?”

  “I am!”

  My aunt rose and kissed my wife on the cheek. Joy returned to her face. “Then it will take an army to take me hence. It will make me young to see three children growing up in this hall.”

 

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