The Bastard's Crown

by H A CULLEY

  Viscount Peverel wouldn’t want to offend Edmund’s father, who was one of his more powerful vassals. Then he had a thought. His father’s squire was twenty and would soon be knighted. If Ranulph would take on Edmund as his successor then Hugo could re-join him as his squire once he had recovered from his ordeal. He determined to ride to Rouen, where the duke’s court was at the moment, and yelled for Edmund to get ready.

  ~#~

  Hugo’s parents were naturally delighted to have him back but his beaten and wasted body had horrified them. A barber-surgeon had applied salves to the most recent of his injuries and a proper diet would start to build him back up again. His mind was another matter. He whimpered and cried out in his sleep; the outgoing and slightly arrogant boy had turned into a timorous and fearful youth.

  Gilbert had come to see him earlier and the two were overjoyed to be reunited. Robert determined to encourage a relationship that he had disapproved of at Cuille. Tristan had also called in and, when he had boasted about killing Quincy, Hugo had hugged him and thanked him repeatedly. Apparently Rollo’s elder brother had been almost a cruel to Hugo as Rollo had been.

  After a few days Hugo started to put on a little weight and the injuries sustained from his most recent beating were healing well. He looked forward to Gilbert’s visits and they chatted animatedly about the past. Gradually Hugo began pushing his time at St. Laurent into the further recesses of his mind.

  On the third day he asked his father for a little sword practice. Instead Robert had given him exercises to do to strengthen his sword arm. Although the break had healed well the arm muscles were unused to wielding a heavy sword properly. Gradually his arm grew stronger and after a few weeks he was beginning to swing a sword with some power again. He felt ready to try his luck on the training field and sought out Tristan. At first he had great difficulty in defending himself against even the simplest of attacks but gradually he began to improve; however, after half an hour he felt exhausted and returned to the rooms that had been allocated to his parents to rest. But when he got there he found his mother pacing up and down.

  ‘Oh Hugo, there you are. I’m so worried; your father has been arrested again and charged with the murder of Sir Tormod.’

  ~#~

  For the middle of December it was an unusually mild day. When Guillaume and Edmund had ridden out of Caen it had been overcast but now the sun was making brief appearances and the knight was feeling contented. He was sure that his father would agree to his proposal about Edmund and the boy would serve Ranulph well, now that his skills had been honed over the past year. The boy was fifteen and had grown three inches since he had joined Guillaume as his squire. He was a good looking lad with a fresh face and dark hair worn a little longer than was normal for a squire. He reflected that Hugo also wore his hair long. The unusual Norman military haircut where the back of the head was shaved was reserved for knights.

  The road underfoot was muddy thanks to the mild temperatures recently. Often by this time of year the ruts would be frozen solid. Guillaume looked back at the two sergeants riding behind as escort. Despite the fact that the duke’s rule was now effectively established throughout the duchy there were still robbers and the occasional band of outlaws.

  Guillaume reached Rouen without incident, having stopped overnight at Liseaux, and rode into the castle courtyard which was bustling with activity. The duke’s court would be moving to Caen for the Yuletide celebrations soon and servants had started to pack carts in readiness. He dismounted and, handing the reins to Edmund, he strode up the steps towards the great hall where he expected to find his father.

  When he entered the first man he saw was the duke’s steward who was obviously surprised to see him.

  ‘Sir Guillaume, we weren’t expecting you I think?’ he said a trifle cautiously. ‘Wait here. Your father is conferring with the duke and Bishop Odo.’

  Guillaume’s heart sank at the mention of Odo, the duke’s half-brother and the second most powerful man in Normandy. He had been in Bayeux the last time that Guillaume had heard and he would have expected him to have gone straight to Caen from there. Rouen was forty miles the other side of Caen from Bayeux and there was only one reason he would have come here so urgently.

  ‘I demand satisfaction.’ Odo was red in the face and obviously in a rage. ‘Your son and his friends murdered my tenant and one son and abducted another.’ He drew a deep breath. ‘And on my land he bellowed.’

  ‘Calm down, brother.’ Duke William was looking irritated. ‘I have already said that I will look into the matter. I can’t believe that Ranulph’s son would go about the country killing your knights wantonly.’

  ‘Indeed, my lord, I am sure that there is a simple explanation.’ Ranulph was worried and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Guillaume, of all his sons, was the most level-headed. He couldn’t imagine what was behind this. Odo had arrived in a rage claiming that Guillaume and three others had stolen into St. Laurent and murdered its lord and his eldest son before making off with the younger. Non-one seemed to have a reason for this peculiar behaviour. It made no sense.

  The steward opened the door cautiously and indicated to the duke that he needed to speak to him urgently. William crooked a finger at him and the man crossed to where he was sitting and whispered in his ear.

  ‘It seems that an explanation will soon be forthcoming. Sir Guillaume has just arrived.’ He turned to the steward. ‘Bring him in.’ Then he looked Odo sternly in the eye. ‘And don’t start bellowing at him, give him a chance to tell us what happened.’

  When Guillaume entered he bowed to the duke.

  ‘Good afternoon my lords. I didn’t expect such an august audience. I merely came to consult my father about something.’

  He was slightly taken aback but Odo’s reaction. ‘I bet you did you blackguard. No doubt trying to devise some crafty excuse for your murdering ways with Peverel here.’

  ‘I have not murdered anyone, my lord bishop. You refer to the rescue of Hugo de Cuille from St Laurent where he was being held in slavery, perhaps? Even so I only killed Tormod St Laurent to stop him murdering a knight who had disarmed him in fair fight.’ Guillaume retorted a trifle more hotly than was perhaps wise.

  ‘Silence, both of you.’ The duke waited for a long moment before continuing. ‘I will not have raised voices in my presence. You will both contain your spleen and be quiet unless I ask you a question. Sir Guillaume please tell me what happened at St Laurent on the night that both Sir Tormod and Sir Quincy were killed.’

  ‘My lord. Hugo de Cuille has been my squire since he saved my life in Brittany three and a half years ago. In January this year he disappeared. It wasn’t until his father, Sir Robert de Cuille, arrived having escaped from the Angevins in Alencon….’

  His voice faded away as Odo bellowed ‘God’s teeth, we don’t want your life story..’

  ‘Odo, I have told you before – be silent. You will have your say in a moment.’ The duke glared at his half-brother in exasperation. His support was invaluable but his short temper irritated the duke beyond measure. ‘But Odo is right, get to the point.’

  ‘Yes, well.’ Guillaume noted the warning look his father gave him. ‘We discovered that Hugo de Cuille had been abducted by Rollo St. Laurent and his brother Sir Quincey. He was being held at their manor where he was forced to work as a ploughboy and lived in squalor, so Sir Robert, my cousin Miles and his squire Tristan set out to find him.’

  ‘Concentrate on what happened at St Laurent’ Ranulph interjected, conscious that the duke’s patience was wearing thin.

  ‘We arrived and learned Hugo was living in the barn. When we got there we were attacked by Rollo and his family. Quincey tried to shoot Robert de Cuille with a crossbow but Tristan put an arrow in him first. Sir Robert and Sir Tormod fought fairly with swords whilst Miles and I disarmed Rollo. Robert defeated Tormod who submitted but the man then tried to kill Robert with a dagger when he wasn’t looking so I stabbed him with my sword as the only way to p
revent his foul deed.’ Guillaume was conscious that Tormod hadn’t actually submitted but he had been disarmed in fair fight. To attack someone after submitting went against the knight’s code so he felt that the minor distortion of the facts should help their case.

  ‘Brother. Do you wish to ask anything?’

  ‘You lie sir.’ Odo glared at Guillaume. ‘The bailiff saw the whole thing. Tormod never submitted. True his lost his sword but was continuing the fight against de Cuille with his dagger when you foully slew him from behind.’

  Guillaume was taken aback. He had not been aware of anyone watching the fight by the barn.

  ‘I never saw the bailiff or anyone else. Where was he standing?’

  ‘I don’t know, what does it matter. You lie, Peverel, and I demand your banishment and that of your fellow murderers’ Odo sneered triumphantly.

  ‘Really, my lord bishop? It was a dark night and no-one was close enough to hear what was said, or even see clearly what transpired. It was as I have said. They abducted Hugo de Cuille and made him a bondsman; we were merely rescuing him and they died in fair fight. Sir Robert and Sir Miles will back me up.’

  ‘They are under arrest so we will see.’ The duke waved his hand in dismissal. ‘You will be placed in the custody of your father until we reach Caen where I can conduct a proper trial. Rollo St Laurent has been charged with Hugo de Cuille’s abduction and released into the constable’s custody. But I warn you I will not tolerate these petty feuds and will deal severely with any who I find at fault, no matter who their father may be.’

  Three days later Guillaume, Miles, Robert Tristan and Rollo were led into the main hall at Caen under armed guard. The imposing main gatehouse had been completed a year previously and work had started on the great stone donjon of the castle. At the same time as the gatehouse a new great hall had been constructed from stone and this now replaced the previous wooden building as the centre from which the business of the duchy was conducted. The large vaulted main room normally served as the workroom for the officers of state, the constable, the steward and their clerks. It was also the courtroom for trials heard by the duke himself or, more usually, the viscount of Caen on his behalf. On this occasion the duke had decided to preside himself. He sat on a raised dais with his scrivener at a table below him. The nobles and knights sat on wooden benches with the commoners standing behind them.

  Guillaume was called first and repeated what he had told the duke and then Sir Miles supported what he had said. Tristan had been charged with Quincey’s murder and pleaded self-defence. He had to admit that his life was not threatened but he pointed out that he had acted to save the life of Sir Robert. Robert himself confirmed all that been said but when it came to the death of Tormod he confessed that he had assumed Tormod’s submission as he had hung his head after being disarmed. He had not actually heard him say ‘I submit.’ Guillaume muttered to Miles that Robert was being too honest for his own good.

  Next Hugo was called who gave a brief account of the background to the feud with Rollo and then went on to describe his abduction and the torment he was subjected to.

  ‘When my father and his friends landed to rescue me Rollo came to the barn and tried to kill me with his dagger. I managed to hit him with my ox whip and ran away. I made for the beach where I was reunited with my father.’

  ‘So you weren’t a witness to the fight at the barn?’

  ‘No, my lord.’ The duke nodded and Hugo sat down.

  ‘Call the bailiff of St Laurent.’ A sly looking man stood up who the duke took an instant dislike to.

  ‘Did you see the fight at the barn?’

  ‘Yes my lord duke, plain as day.’

  ‘But it wasn’t day was it? Where were you? How dark was it?’

  ‘I was by the door of the hall. Sir Tormod, Rollo and Sir Quincey had rushed out when the look-out came and reported the landing of four men up to no good. The two knights made for the beach but Rollo headed for the barn. A few minutes later I saw Sigmund the ploughboy run out and then a while later Rollo staggered out.

  ‘Sigmund?’ queried the duke.

  ‘That boy there, my lord.’ He pointed at Hugo.

  ‘You know his name is Hugo de Cuille, why do you call him Sigmund?’

  ‘That’s what I know him as, my lord. I never knew his other name.’

  ‘It’s not another name, it’s his name. You are being obtuse.’ The duke’s temper was beginning to surface. He had other things on his mind and he wanted this trial over and done with.

  The bailiff swallowed nervously. ‘Yes, my lord. I’m sorry. I was going to see what was amiss when Sir Tormod and Sir Quincey came back and spoke to Rollo. Just then three men and a youth came up. The youth had a bow and shot Sir Quincey without any warning.’

  The duke held up his hand. ‘Did Sir Quincey have a crossbow?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘And yet three knights say that he tried to fire one at them at close range. I very much doubt that you could see clearly from where you stood. How far away is it from the barn; and remember I can get your answer verified. Woe betide you if you lie.’

  ‘Abbbouttt three hundreddd yards’ he stuttered.

  ‘Humph. Too far to see clearly at night. You are dismissed as an unreliable witness.’

  ‘William, I protest. He hasn’t given evidence as to the slaying of Sir Tormod yet.’ Odo got up from his seat and gestured at the hapless bailiff.

  ‘You will call me my lord in this court, bishop. Nor will he. The man is discredited. Now sit down. Rollo St. Laurent, where are you.’ For William to speak to his half-brother in such a brusque fashion showed how irate he was getting.

  ‘Here my lord duke.’ Rollo’s face drew gasps from those who had not seen it before. The puckered scar ran from just under his left eye across his cheek and down to his chin, just missing his mouth. When it had healed it had dragged the skin under the eye downwards and that close to his mouth upwards giving him a perpetual leer.

  ‘Did you abduct Hugo de Cuille and force him to serve you as a ploughboy for ten months until he was rescued?’

  ‘Yes my lord, it was in revenge for….’

  ‘I am not interested in your motives, only your actions. Did you try and kill him with your dagger when you thought rescue was on the way?’

  ‘Yes.’ Said sulkily and with bowed head.

  ‘I didn’t hear you. Speak up.’

  ‘Yes.’ Said louder but Rollo still hung his head in misery. He could see where this was going.

  ‘I would advise you to adopt a more respectful tone and to look me in the eye when you speak.’

  Rollo glared balefully at William. ‘Yes, my lord.’ He spoke loudly.

  ‘Yes, well - don’t overdo it. Did you see your brother killed.’

  ‘Yes, my lord. That little rat skewered him with an arrow.’ He replied pointing at Tristan.

  The duke pursed his lips. ‘And was that in defence of Sir Robert de Cuille’s life?’

  ‘No.’ Rollo spoke defiantly ‘Yes he was holding a crossbow but only to threaten a party who had invaded our land. He wouldn’t have fired unless he had to.’

  ‘But you knew why they were there, didn’t you? You had told Hugo that they had come to rescue him.’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘Did Sir Robert or anyone in his party attack you first; or were they just looking for his son.’

  Rollo paused, debating how to reply. ‘I expect they just wanted to find him.’

  ‘So they weren’t the aggressors, you and your family attacked them.’ The duke looked across meaningfully at Odo who shrugged.

  The duke told Rollo to sit down and sat there for a moment and then beckoned Odo across to confer with him. Hugo had the uncomfortable feeling that this was all for show and William had already made his mind up.

  ‘Guillaume Peverel. I find that you and the others in your party had just cause for the actions you took and that Tormod and Quincey St. Laurent were slain to protect your ow
n lives. Rollo St. Laurent, you are guilty of abducting Hugo de Cuille and holding him prisoner for ten months in degrading circumstances for one of his birth. Nevertheless you have lost your father and brother and deserve some recompense for that’ William paused. ‘I will not have dissention amongst my knights and you all need to be taught not to take the law into your own hands.’

  Hugo had almost allowed himself to believe that justice would be done but now he wasn’t so sure.

  ‘The bishop of Bayeux has graciously agreed that Rollo St. Laurent may inherit the manor from his father.’

  ‘No!’ Hugo could not contain his rage. ‘That man degraded and tormented me for ten months. He deserves the axe not a reward.’ He stared at the duke as if daring him to disagree.

  The duke narrowed his eyes dangerously and spoke with some vehemence. ‘I am sorry for all you have suffered unjustly at this man’s hands but I will not be lectured by the likes of you. Be very careful before you say another word.’ The duke returned his stare; eventually Hugo’s eyes dropped to the floor and he sat down shaking uncontrollably with emotion.

  ‘Good.’ The duke turned his eyes back to Rollo. ‘You will pay twenty marks compensation to Hugo de Cuille and you will not molest him again on pain of death. I hope that is clear?’ He waited for Rollo to nod and went on ‘you will also pay twenty marks to your overlord, the bishop of Bayeux, as punishment for the abduction. You have five years to complete these payments otherwise you will lose your manor and be banished from Normandy.’

  Guillaume thought what a clever judgement this was. Rollo had no chance of paying off the forty marks he had been fined in five or even ten years from the spare income that his small manor could hope to generate. So he was being punished quite severely as he would eventually be landless and destitute if he couldn’t find a lord to employ him as a household knight. At the same time the greedy bishop of Bayeux had been appeased as he thought his vassal was being let off with a fine, half of which would go into his own pocket. He was startled out of his reverie when he heard his own name mentioned.