Baron's War

by Griff Hosker

  As we rode down the road we saw some of the Scots who had succumbed to their wounds. Edward was right. Some were bare chested and barefoot. Richard had said that the Scots had been camped at the River Skerne. We saw where they had left the road. Their trail led across fields. We were getting close and so I drew my sword.

  “Spread out. Our priority is the recapture of the captives!”

  I spied a hedgerow ahead and saw a gate. The trail led to the gate. I headed for it and saw below me the animals they had abandoned. Just a mile away and heading north west were the remnants of the warband. There looked to be thirty or so Scots. They had more than sixty captives. They were mainly women and children. Even as they saw us the Scots began to run, driving the captives before them. It was futile.

  “After them. Fótr, take three men and protect the captives!”

  “Aye lord!”

  Skuld opened hr legs. I saw the Scots beating the captives with the flat of their swords. It was to no avail and the Scots pushed them to the ground and ran. My men had their blood up. The sight of the warband hitting women and children with their swords was too much. Even as we chased the men on foot I realised that there were no horses with them. Where had the squires gone? The released captives huddled together as we thundered by. I could rely on Fótr. The captives would be cared for.

  I swung my sword to hack into the skull of the Scotsman who had no idea how close I was. The second one did hear me and he crouched low. It was to no avail. I leaned from the side of my saddle and brought my sword across his side. Ahead of me I saw a Scot turn. He had a spear and he was thrusting it at me. I rose and, jerking Skuld to the right, I stood in the saddle and took the top of his head as his spear hit my shield and slid off. I reined in for Skuld was tiring. She was not as young as she once was. There was little point in damaging her for bandits.

  My men slew those within sight and then, like me, reined in. I saw that the men we had killed had little with them. Perhaps their lords intended to pay them when they returned north. They would now have nothing. I reined in when I reached the captives. As I dismounted a priest abased himself, “Lord, you have saved us. Did the Bishop send you?”

  “No, I came from Stockton. What happened to the Lord of Fissebourne?”

  The priest shook his head, “We have had no lord for these last three years. The Bishop sends each year for his taxes and that is all that we know.”

  “And all these are from Fissebourne?”

  “No, lord, some came from Kelloe. It is not far north of here.”

  “There are none from Bishop Middleham?”

  “No lord. There are armed men there for it is a residence of the Bishop.”

  “Then I leave you to ensure that the rightful animals are returned to their owners.”

  “You leave us lord?”

  “Fear not, my men will ensure that the Scots do not return. As for me I have to go back to Stockton. I will be back here in two days’ time and then I would have you come with me to Durham. Would you be willing to do that?”

  “Of course, lord.”

  Aimeric of Durham

  Chapter 11

  Leaving Edward and the bulk of my men to ensure that the captives were safe, I returned with Fótr and Henry Youngblood. We passed the men who had come from Wulfestun on the road and I sent them to aid their lord. We picked up two horses from Wulfestun. We reached home after dark.

  “Where are the rest of the men, lord?”

  “Do not fear, David of Wales, they are all safe and we have scoured the land of Scots. I returned for Father Roger and to speak with my aunt.”

  “That evening, as we ate, I told my wife and aunt of the skirmish. Alfred’s eyes were wide. He wished he had been there. Then I questioned my aunt about what she knew of the area north of Wulfestun and about the Bishop of Durham. Satisfied that I knew all that she did I told them my plans. I was happy that they met with my aunt’s approval. I had learned that she was a shrewd woman.

  With Father Roger and two of my archers we headed north for Fissebourne. We reached it before dark and we stayed in what had been the hall of the lord of the manor. I gathered that the priest had been using it. It was poorly furnished and decaying. The villagers showed their gratitude by cooking for us. My men found supplies which had been left by the Scots. I realised that they must have raided further north. Sir Edward told me what they had discovered.

  “Many of the men fled.” I raised my eyebrows. He nodded, “I know lord it seems cowardly but look at it from their point of view. Had they stayed they would have died. The Scots do not take prisoners. During the night they returned. Their wives and mothers gave them the sharp edge of their tongues. When we took the captives back to Kelloe we found it was the same story. Kelloe never had a lord of the manor. The Steward of Bishop Middleham dealt with the running of the village. I think it was just seen as a source of income.”

  Ridley the Giant shook his head, “I cannot understand it, lord. Even in Anjou the lords did not abandon their people.”

  I nodded, “Welcome to the Palatinate. I had a long talk with my aunt and now understand the situation. Tomorrow we take the priest…” I looked at Edward.

  “Father Michael.”

  “And Father Roger. We will visit the Bishop although, from what I have heard, he is in London. Still we can speak with the one who is supposed to be in charge, his nephew. From what my aunt tells me he is the source of the problem. This may work out better for us. We shall see.”

  I drank some of the ale which the priest had produced. It was not good. I guessed that they did not have enough of the ingredients. The manor appeared to exemplify all that was wrong with England. From the King down, they took from those below them. The ones we had rescued were at the bottom. They were the ones who were providing those above them with the food and the comfortable life. My aunt had told me of barons whom I could trust. They were the ones who were opposed to King John and his ways: John FitzRobert de Clavering, Eustace de Vesci and Richard de Percy were three. De Percy was related to the royal family and, as such, he appeared to be in greater danger than the others. As Arthur and the Fair Maid of Brittany discovered to their cost, it did not pay to be in any way an heir to the throne.

  I felt happier now that I had two archers with me. They could scout and they afforded all of us better protection. I needed more such archers but the ones I had brought were all that I could afford and it took time to train men up to be archers. Had the Lord of Fissebourne trained the men of the manor each Sunday then perhaps the outcome might have been different.

  The two priests walked. Neither felt comfortable on a horse. It meant the journey took longer than it should. The ten miles which should have taken a couple of hours took us half a day. We arrived at noon and it was market day which meant that the gates were open. Even so we were stopped.

  “Who are you, my lord and what business do you have here?”

  “I am Sir Thomas of La Flèche and my business is for the ears of the Bishop.”

  “He is not here, lord. His nephew Aimeric commands.”

  “Then it is him that I need to see.”

  The two sentries looked at me and the men I led. Ridley the Giant was behind me and I saw the fear in the sentry’s eyes. Father Michael said, “These are good men, my son and mean no harm.”

  Reluctantly we were admitted. Taking just Sir Edward and the two priests we were admitted to the Bishop’s chambers. The last time I had been here I had killed the Bishop. It felt strange to be returning. Much had happened in the intervening years.

  The priest who asked us to wait outside gave me a strange look. I could see him trying to work out how he knew me. The last time I had been here I had been younger and with a skin burned by the sun. I had changed. He seemed reassured by the two priests who accompanied me. He said, “If you wait here my lords I will find out when Lord Aimeric can see you.”

  We had to wait an inordinately long time. I guessed it was to increase the man’s feeling of self-importance. T
hat was confirmed when we were admitted. Aimeric was young. I had him at no more than twenty-two summers. He had a neatly trimmed beard and he smelled like some of the lords I had known in the Holy Land.

  “How may I help you? I am a busy man. My uncle, Philip of Poitou, Bishop of Durham, is in London and he expects me to run the Palatinate in his absence. It is a great responsibility.”

  I nodded, “I understand, and I would not have come were my business also of great importance.”

  “You are Sir Thomas of La Flèche?” I nodded. “That is close to Angers is it not?” Again, I nodded. “What business can Anjou have here in Durham?”

  “I have been given the manor of Whorlton. However, since my return I have been adopted and left the manor of Stockton.”

  “The manor of Stockton? How can that be? Sir William was childless!”

  “I was adopted by him. Father Roger can attest to the fact.”

  Father Roger stepped forward, “Yes lord, all was done properly. Sir Thomas was adopted by Sir William and bequeathed the manor on his death bed.”

  Just then the priest who had taken us in recoiled and pointed an accusing finger at me. “You are the Bishop killer! Sir Thomas of Stockton!”

  Aimeric had heard of me and he too recoiled. “What is this? Murder?”

  I smiled and took out the parchment. “Yes, I killed Hugh de Puiset but I have done my penance and been forgiven… by King John. Read this document and all will become clear.”

  He read it; three times as though he was trying to find a flaw. He could not. “I find this distasteful. You are stripped of your manor and by this,” he waved the parchment, “you regain your land!”

  “Nonetheless it is legal.”

  “Very well. Is that all?”

  “No for I was called upon to help rid the Palatinate of Scottish raiders and recover the animals and the captives they had taken. This is Father Michael. He was their priest.”

  “It is true my lord. If it were not for his lordship then we would all be captives.”

  “Then I thank you. Have a safe journey home.”

  “I have not finished. The Bishop is responsible for this land. There is no lord at Fissebourne. There was once; Sir John of Stockton kept it free from raiders. When he fell at Arsuf, fighting for King Richard, his heirs were dispossessed. We need a lord at Fissebourne.”

  He was lost for words. “It is for my uncle to make the appointment.”

  “Then until he does I will take responsibility for ensuring the safety of the manor.”

  “That is kind.”

  “Kind but not generous. You have been milking the manor of Stockton. Until you appoint a new lord then Stockton will be as Sadberge and we will have a Liberty.”

  “You pay no taxes?”

  “That seems fair. Who else will protect the land from Scottish incursions? You? What is required is the appointment of a lord of the manor and a tightening up of the borders of the land. Had I not intervened then Wulfestun would have been destroyed… for a second time and Stockton, which no longer has a castle, would have been attacked. These are the responsibilities of the Bishop of Durham. The rights are that when we pay taxes we should have his protection.”

  I saw smiles playing about the lips of the two priests I had brought. Aimeric looked bereft of words. He nodded, “I accept this document and the word of your priest but I am not the Bishop. When my uncle returns then he will make a decision. I will write to him this day.”

  As we left the castle Father Michael said, “You have an interesting way with you, my lord. You look young but your words are sage. Did you mean what you said?”

  “That I will protect you?” He nodded. “Yes. Sir Edward here will send men each day to visit your village. If your people can keep watch for danger then there will be men at arms who could be at your village in half a day.”

  “Half a day may be too long, lord.”

  “I believe it is written that the lord helps those that help themselves. If your men trained each Sunday after church with the bow then they would not need to run away. If you put up a palisade and dig a ditch then the Scots would struggle to overcome you so quickly. They raid you because they can. They do not raid Bishop Middleham. There, they have a wall and they defend themselves. Until you cease to be sheep then you will continue to be shorn.”

  Father Roger nodded, “Sir Thomas is right. You must be the shepherd to your flock and help his lordship to protect them. Trust me, he will.”

  It was after dark when we returned home. My men were glad to be back in their unfinished hall for it had a roof and they had hot food. They had good ale and they had warm fires for the winter had returned. The Christmas would be a white one and that meant that the Scots would be unlikely to return. They had raided when they did to gather supplies for the winter. They had failed. They would return but it would not be until the new grass grew.

  My aunt was delighted with the result but she was, generally, in a good humour. Christmas was coming and, for the first time in her life, she would have children around her. She would have a family and she threw herself into the preparations. She used her own coin to buy what we needed to make it a memorable feast. We were lucky. When we had come from Anjou we had brought dried exotic fruits and spices. The puddings and cakes we would enjoy promised to be the finest ever.

  My wife had had time to make our quarters more to her liking. The goods we had brought made it feel like La Flèche. The married men I had brought with me had been able to take over abandoned huts and houses. Before the winter had set in they had improved them. Stockton was filled, once more, with the sound of children for many of my men had families. Ridley the Giant had the largest family. Seven of his children had survived. Soon the eldest, Petr, would be ready to serve as a warrior.

  I said to Ridley. “If you wished I could train him as a squire. Fótr will soon be ready for his spurs and I have need of a second squire.”

  “Lord, that would be a dream for me. When I joined you, I thought to end my days as a man at arms but I see that my son has the chance to be elevated. Sir Edward has shown me that. My son is a good lad and he is keen to learn. He is strong and has skills with a sword.”

  “Good. Can he read?”

  Ridley hung his head, “No lord.”

  “No matter. My wife and Fótr can teach him. He will be my squire!”

  Sir Ralph sent messages that although the snow had been severe the preparations they had made meant that neither the garrison nor the village would suffer. I had yet to find the sheep for the moors but I would. The taxes I would save would pay for them and for more cattle. The Scottish raids over the years had depleted the herds which my father and grandfather had built up. We were starting with nothing. Whatever we produced would be our work. We were still short of horses. We also needed more archers but we had survived our first few months and I was hopeful that we could continue to make our lives better over the winter.

  Christmas was joyful. I invited Sir Edward and Sir Ralph to join me. Sir Ralph declined. I admired him for that. It showed he was serious about being a true lord of the manor. Sir Edward came with Gilles, his squire. Gilles was now fully grown and a handsome man. Like Fótr he would need a bride soon but there were precious few women of the right age for them. The Scottish raids had seen to that.

  I invited my captains too and their families. The rest were happy to organize their own festivities in the newly completed hall. They were all single men and I think that some of the unattached women from the town were invited. It would not be seemly for my wife or Lady Ruth to witness what went on.

  I had never seen my aunt as happy as that Christmas day. She bounced Rebekah on her knee. Now that she was older she could understand much more and Aunt Ruth sang silly songs and danced with her. Alfred was bemused but jealous enough to ask to be part of it too. That delighted my father’s sister. I sat back and watched. Sir Edward also enjoyed himself. It was a night without responsibilities for him and he drank heavily. He could always hold
his ale but he was still drunk enough to require David of Wales and Ridley the giant to carry him to bed. When everyone else had retired there was just Lady Ruth and me left.

  I could tell that she was reluctant to go to bed. “You enjoyed this night?”

  She nodded, barely able to speak, “My sadness is that William was not here to witness it but I am certain he looks down from heaven and feels what I feel.”

  “And what is that?”

  “I feel complete. I never had children of my own but this one night has shown me what I have missed. I will try to make each day like Christmas for Alfred and Rebekah and when your new child is born then that will be even more joyous. I am so happy that you have returned.”

  “As am I.”

  She suddenly became serious, “Thomas… Tom, I have to warn you that while things have gone well hitherto there will be storms to face. I cannot see the Sherriff being happy at your return and you have tweaked the Bishop’s nose. I hope that does not come to haunt you.”

  “I must be myself. I cannot be another. I have accepted that John is King. I am not happy but I accept it. However, I will not accept they he should not be questioned. He should be accountable. He has lost Normandy, Anjou and Maine. Phillip is greedy and John is in danger of losing England. I will make this land safe and secure and then find other barons who are of the same mind.”

  “Take care, my nephew. You are precious to me.” She hugged me.

  I helped her up the stairs for she had drunk well. I was up early the next morning. I had not indulged as some of the others had. I ate well. I ate alone. I was surprised when Edward appeared at the door. “I thought you would have been sleeping off the drink.”

  He shook his head, “I enjoyed the ale but it did not make me drunk. I was just happy.”

  I laughed, “Tell others that, Edward son of Edgar, but I know you better.”

  He tucked into the food and, when he had finished said, “I think I will go and find where the ale came from. I would have a barrel or two at Wulfestun.”