by Wayne Grant
“I see he was bred true!” Roland said to Griff. “Tell your master it is a wonderful gift and remind him that he will always find friends on this side of the Dee.”
Roland turned to Sir Roger who was standing nearby.
“My lord, I have never been suited to fighting atop a horse. Even your daughter could not make me a decent cavalry man. A horse with this spirit would be wasted on a clumsy rider such as myself. I would be honoured if you would take him, as I believe your previous mount has been retired.” Roland took the reins from Declan and offered them to Sir Roger.
He took them and the colt shied away, but the big knight held them firm, looked the young horse in the eye and spoke to the animal softly but firmly.
“There’ll be none of that, now, young one. It appears you are to be mine, like it or not.” He stepped forward, keeping the reins taut, and reached out with his free hand to gently touch the stallion on its nose. The horse jerked its head back once, but seemed to settle then as Sir Roger spoke quietly into its ear.
He turned back to Roland and Declan, his eyes shiny.
“It’s a fine gift, Sir Roland,” he said. “I thank you.”
Roland nodded and felt a tightness in his throat. He loved Sir Roger de Laval, not simply for having saved him when he was a hunted boy, but for what the knight was. Tuck had begun that lesson, but it was Sir Roger who showed him that a man must be judged by his actions, not by what tribe he was born into. He had arrived at Shipbrook hating Normans, but Sir Roger had given the lie to that hate. Roland had found a new home at Shipbrook, but now everything was changing. He had been summoned by Earl Ranulf in the days before his wedding for a private meeting. The Earl was blunt.
“In four years, the Earl of Derby will return from exile. I was surprised once by that ass and will not let that happen again. I need a loyal man out along my border with Derbyshire to keep an eye on de Ferrers. I think a nice, small fortress by the Weaver ford might be in order, with a platoon from the Invalid Company posted there under your command. The Danes will be settling near there. Who better to help them make a new life for their families than one of their own?”
He hadn’t known what to say. His mind saw the logic in this, though his heart would have been happy to stay at Shipbrook.
“I am the sworn man of Sir Roger, my lord,” was all he could muster.
The Earl nodded.
“I’ve not made this offer without speaking to your master first. He agrees with me.”
Roland rode back to Shipbrook and found Sir Roger and Declan labouring beside a score of farmers and men-at-arms as they hoisted a huge roof beam into place with pulleys. The burned-out keep of Shipbrook was rising from the ashes. Millie and Lady Catherine stood under an awning that shaded them from the afternoon sun and were supervising the preparation of the evening meal.
The two men paused in their labours as he rode up and dismounted.
“My lord, there is no one I would rather serve than you.”
Sir Roger gave him a sympathetic smile.
“And there is no one I would rather have in my service, Roland, but I’ve known, even in those earliest of days, that you were meant for greater things. I am content with Shipbrook, but it is too small a stage for you, I think. And besides, our Earl needs you elsewhere and I will still have good men in my service. Sir Declan here has agreed to be my Master of the Sword.”
Roland turned to his closest friend and slapped him on the shoulder.
“Well done, Dec! I trust you will not go easy on the squires under your instruction.” He pointed to the sky. “Sir Alwyn will be watching!”
Declan nodded happily.
“I will do my duty, but how will you get along without me? Millie may keep you proficient in sitting a horse, but without me, you will not know which end of a sword to grasp.”
Roland grinned at his friend.
“Oh, I’ll muddle through, but I will miss you, Dec. We will always be clan.”
“Gad, Roland, we will only be a long day’s ride away, once you settle up there along the Weaver.”
Roland had only seen the land the Earl was offering him twice, when he had passed that way with Sir Edgar and when he had been fleeing from mercenaries, but he recalled that it was a good place for a fort—and a home. He gazed around at Shipbrook. It was hard to say goodbye. He turned back to Sir Roger.
“Then I am to give my oath to Earl Ranulf?”
“Aye, lad. If you are willing. I have served the Earls of Chester for twenty years and have not regretted that service.”
Roland took a deep breath.
“Millie?”
“She’s known of this since you rode out this morning. She will go where you go.”
***
Roland Inness stood perfectly still in the shadows of the deep glade. He saw a hint of movement out of the corner of his eye, but did not stir. He had found a well-used game trail here two days before and had come to this place well before dawn. Now there was something on the trail. He waited.
He saw the antlers first, as a large fallow buck lowered its head to browse on some berries along the trail. Moving with elaborate slowness, he nocked an arrow. The deer, engaged with its breakfast, did not see the longbow rise slowly as Roland drew the bowstring back. The animal was only fifty paces away. He let his breath out slowly—and the deer bolted.
Roland could not find a clean shot as the animal’s rump disappeared back up the trail. He looked back and saw that a hare had blundered onto the path right in front of the fallow deer and had startled it. The hare seemed unconcerned by all the excitement and sat there, chewing on a little sprig of greenery.
Roland lowered his bow—no venison for supper tonight. He looked up at the sky, now showing a touch of gold as the sun rose, and started back toward the small forest lane that lay a mile behind him. It was a beautiful autumn day and it felt good to be in the woods, but there was work to do back by the River Weaver.
An hour later, he left the forest behind and walked through fields green with new winter wheat. Just ahead on a small bluff, a wooden palisade was rising. The structure would look more like Bleddyn’s rude fortress in the Clocaenog than Shipbrook, but he and Millie had already envisioned replacing the logs with stone one day. The new fort looked down on the ford where the road crossed the river. Out of sight, in the valley beyond, he could hear the sound of axes felling trees.
On the bluff, he saw three men, his brother Oren among them, muscling a log with a sharpened point into its place in the new wall. Sir Roger had offered Oren a position as squire, but the young Dane had chosen to return to farming. He had claimed a good patch of ground a few miles away from the ford.
Roland started up the gentle slope and saw Millie emerge from the small house that was serving as their home until a more proper keep could be built. A small, golden-haired girl trailed behind her. He and Oren had ridden together to Saint Oswald’s Priory to fetch Lorea six weeks after the battle on Watling Street. The brothers at the priory were heartbroken to see her go, but in Millie, Roland had found the ideal guardian for the child. The two had formed an instant kinship and were practically inseparable. Lorea waved and Millicent called to him as he drew near.
“No meat for the table, my lord?” she said with a smile.
“None, my lady. I could have taken a fat little hare that ruined my shot, but I feared it would distress Mistress Lorea,” he said, laying a gentle hand on the girl’s head. “She has a soft spot for rabbits.”
The girl blushed at that and disappeared around the side of the house. She had been raising a baby rabbit in a hutch back there since spring.
Roland slipped an arm around his wife’s waist and looked down into the river valley. He could see where men were downing trees near the banks. Sir Edgar would be there, the finest axeman of them all. He had agreed to be Roland’s Master of the Sword and like everyone at this new outpost, he lent his hand to building it.
Millicent leaned against Roland.
“This is a
good place to make a home,” she said, looking out over the valley, its sides a blaze of autumn colours. “Do you think we’ll be happy here, Roland? Will we have peace?”
He turned to look at her. Over her shoulder and twenty miles away was the border with Derbyshire. In four years William de Ferrers would be back. Four years…it had been four years since he had killed the deer on Kinder Scout. It felt like he had lived a lifetime in those four years. He looked into Millie’s eyes and thought that four years of peace, with Millicent Inness by his side, would be worth whatever came after. He pulled her close.
“Yes, Millie. I think we will.”
Peace finally comes to England with King Richards ransom, but across the border in Wales a vicious civil war continues. Prince Llywelyn calls in an old debt owed him by the Earl of Chester. In payment he wants Sir Roland Inness and the Invalid Company. Follow the new adventure!
Order on Amazon, Amazon UK and Audible
Historical Note
Many of the events depicted in The Ransomed Crown are fictional, but this story was built around a core of real events. The period from King Richard’s departure on Crusade in December, 1189 to his return from captivity in March, 1194 was truly a time of troubles for his kingdom.
Prince John, rightly maligned down through the ages, did try mightily to usurp his brother’s throne. Queen Eleanor did have to fight a two front war—against Philip of France and her own youngest son to keep the kingdom whole. Richard was captured and ransomed for thirty-five tons of silver. Castles were besieged, towns sacked and mercenary armies hired.
In The Ransomed Crown I have tried to tell a good story about one young man caught up in this fratricidal war. In telling that story, I’ve tried to stay faithful to the basic events of the time, but have taken license where I thought it necessary. Here are some key points on what is fact and what is fiction in this final chapter of Roland’s story.
Richard did tarry overlong in the Holy Land and was shipwrecked on his voyage home. He was trying to find a route overland to Saxony when he was captured by his archenemy, Leopold of Austria and essentially sold to the Holy Roman Emperor. He was eventually ransomed for one hundred and fifty thousand marks, but the final fifty thousand marks were forgiven. The one hundred thousand marks equalled thirty-five tons of silver and was stored in the crypts of Saint Paul’s before being shipped to Germany.
Prince John was granted the revenues of the Midlands by Richard to try and keep him loyal, but part of a kingdom was never going to be enough for his younger brother. John used his revenue to hire a mercenary army that dominated the Midlands and beyond from 1191-1193.
To my knowledge, Chester was not besieged during this period, nor was the town of Sheffield sacked, though many towns were. The depredations of John’s mercenaries were quite real.
John actually did homage to Philip for all of the Plantagenet lands on the continent in a desperate bid to gain his support to grab the crown from Richard. Philip managed to gain Gisors and the Vexin region before Richard could return and defend his realm. He also had an army prepared to land in England, but decided it was too risky.
William Marshall and Walter of Coutances were Justiciars during this period and were instrumental in keeping John in check. Walter of Coutances actually went to Germany and agreed to be one of the hostages required as guarantors of payment after the King’s release.
Queen Eleanor who was in her seventies (an extraordinarily old woman for the times) fought to keep the kingdom whole for Richard throughout his absence and was the true hero of this bit of English history.
The battle described outside of Towcester was fictional, but was intended to be a foreshadowing of how the longbow would eventually (in 150 years or so) be used so effectively by English armies against the French.
To my knowledge, there was no unit of wounded Crusaders known as the Invalids, but there should have been.
I will concede that Robin and Tuck are fictional, but they have thrilled millions of fans for hundreds of years and that makes them real enough for me.
A final note on the actual historical characters referenced in these books:
I found no evidence that my villain, William de Ferrers, was any more evil than any other nobleman during that period. He just happened to be Earl of Derby during the period of this tale, so was, more or less, in the wrong place at the wrong time. In an interesting irony, when he finally married, he was wed to Lady Agnes De Kevelioch, sister of Earl Ranulf of Chester.
Archdeacon Herbert Poore was not a spymaster for the French—that I know of.
The Bishop of Beauvais was King Philip’s spymaster.
Books by Wayne Grant
The Saga of Roland Inness
Longbow
Warbow
The Broken Realm
The Ransomed Crown
A Prince of Wales
Declan O’Duinne
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Wayne Grant grew up in a tiny cotton town in rural Louisiana where hunting, fishing and farming are a way of life. Between chopping cotton, dove hunting and Little League ball he developed a love of great adventure stories like Call It Courage and Kidnapped.
Like most southern boys he saw the military as an honourable and adventurous career, so it was a natural step for him to attend and graduate from West Point. He just missed Vietnam, but found that life as a Captain in an army broken by that war was not what he wanted. After tours in Germany and Korea, he returned to Louisiana and civilian life.
Through it all he retained his love of great adventure writing and when he had two sons he began telling them stories before bedtime. Those stories became his first novel, Longbow. The picture above was taken outside the Tower of London.
The rest of The Saga of Roland Inness, which includes A Prince of Wales, and Declan O’Duinne are now available on Amazon. The author is working on the final Roland Inness adventure to be published in late summer, 2019.
To learn more about the author and his books check out his website: www.waynegrantbooks.com or his Longbow Facebook page: www.facebook.com/Longbowbooks/
You can also follow him on BookBub: www.bookbub.com to get information on when his books go on sale and on Goodreads www.goodreads.com.
If you think these books have merit, please leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads. For a self-published writer this is the only way to get the word out. Thank you!