by Griff Hosker
“And you?”
“Of course, I would, but that was not meant to be. God decided that I would be barren and use other skills. I have another purpose.” She stared at me. “And is that it? Have I had all of your news?”
I felt her eyes boring into me. Was she reading my mind? “No, Aunt, there is something else but it is terrible to speak.”
She put her hand on mine, “Then I will save you the pain. I know what they did to my mother’s grave.”
“You know, how?”
“We are not isolated here. My women go into Stockton to trade and to get that which we cannot produce. And there are townsfolk who come to see me. I knew within the hour what that evil man did. He was afraid of my father during his life and could never best him.”
“I have sworn an oath to have vengeance.”
She stood and jabbed a sword like finger at me, “No! It would cost you your life! He is not worth it! He will be punished in the afterlife. You have a life! Live it!”
I said nothing. I would not argue with her but I would not be foresworn. The bishop would die by my hand.
She sat and drank some wine, “So what are your plans?”
“I will go to Bolsover Castle and speak with Prince John.”
She shook her head and snorted, “A waste of time and your breath. My father knew him to be a weak and pathetic excuse for a man. His brother, Richard, is a mad man and hot headed but at least he has honour. Prince John should have been drowned at birth. At least that is what my father always said. However, you are like my brother, you will do things the honourable way. You had best be careful on the road. It is almost as bad now as when the civil war was on. The Warlord would be turning in his grave at some of the things which are going on.”
“I will be careful. I have men.”
“Six I believe.”
“Possibly seven.” I stared at her, “How did you know?”
“I told you I know everything which goes on in Stockton. I know that Sir Richard is a good man but the others are as venal as Prince John and Puiset! You need more men.” She said it simply. “More ale?”
I realised that I had finished it. “Yes, please.” She disappeared. William grinned, “I have never seen anyone like your aunt, lord!”
I nodded, “She is special. I hope she stays safe.”
She came back with a jug of ale. “Did you find your father’s things?”
I nodded, “And grandfather’s and his father’s.”
“What do you intend?”
“I cannot leave them in Stockton. Could I leave them here, in your care?”
She looked relieved, “Of course, for that means you would have to return and I would get to see you again!”
“I will return, I promise.”
“If you have just six or even seven men to guard you then that is unlikely.”
“When I was coming home I hoped that some of my father’s men might still be around but I heard that many of them died trying to stop the desecration of my grandmother’s tomb and the rest are outlaws living in the forest.”
She shook her head, “They live in the forest but they are not outlaws. They live in my forest and they guard travellers on the roads. They are here.” She smiled, “I may not be a man and I may not be a warrior but I share the same blood as my brother and I do not abandon oathsworn.” She clapped her hands and the door opened.
I looked up as the twelve of them came in. They looked as I remembered them save one or two had greybeards now. I had grown up with some of them for they had followed their fathers as I had followed mine. Most were descended from the archers and men at arms who had served my grandfather and, in one case, my great grandfather. Some had chosen to have children late in life when the valley became a little more peaceful.
I recognised them all. The men at arms: Jack son of Harold, Alf Smithson, Rafe son of Roger, Ridley the Giant and Walter son of Wilson. The archers, powerful men with thick arms and broad chests: Will son of Robin, Thomas son of Tom, Gruffyd son of Tomas, Mordaf son of Tomas, Garth son of Garth, Dick One Arrow and Cedric Warbow. The two sons of Tomas were twins and I could still not differentiate between them. Ridley the Giant was the son of a Varangian who had come all the way from Constantinople to serve my grandfather. Each had his own story and now they stood before me.
“I am sorry that you suffered and neither my father nor myself were here to help you. Thank you for what you tried to do for my grandmother.”
Alf Smithson had always been the one who would speak up, he was the eldest. The son of the smith who had made so many swords and so much armour he, alone out of Alf’s sons, had chosen the way of the sword. He shook his head, “No, lord. We failed your family. We were charged with protecting the castle. We hesitated for these were priests and a man does not kill a priest.”
Jack son of Harold was like his father. He was a wild man in a fight and he growled, “If I had that bishop before me now I would show him that I have changed. If a priest can do as they did then he deserves to die.”
There was a murmur of approval.
My aunt said, “My nephew goes to speak with Prince John to try to get back his lands.”
Rafe son of Roger shook his head, “I fear it would do little good, my lady. The
Prince wants the coin that this valley generates. It is not a surprise that the people are poorer since the Prince and his bishop took over the manors. They are bleeding the people dry. They will never give it back peacefully. It would have to be taken by force.”
I looked at them. This was insurrection and treason that they spoke. “You would be outlaws?”
Rafe shrugged, “We are outlaws now, lord. If we are found we will be hanged. The Bishop of Durham drove us hence.”
Alf looked at the others. They nodded. “If you would have us, lord, we will follow your banner. It may lead to death but it will be an honourable death. Your blood is that of the Warlord. All men die but it is the manner which determines how they are remembered. We would rather die with you doing something honourable rather than eke out a life as outlaws.”
My aunt shook her head, “Let us talk of living and not dying. Nephew will you take them?”
“Of course, I would be honoured.”
“Then what would you do after you have visited Prince John?” She held up her hand, “Think before you speak, Thomas. I know what is in your heart. If you do harm to the bishop then you will be hunted down and killed.”
She was right. You cannot undo an oath. Once sworn you must follow it else it eats at your heart and you die from within. I had sworn to kill him and he would die but I could not drag these men to a death for such a creature.
I nodded, “We are warriors all. I know of a war where we could hire our swords out. It is an honourable war for it is against the enemies of Christ, barbarians.”
My aunt was intrigued, “The Holy Land again?”
I smiled, “No, Aunt, another war and I will not speak of it yet for Prince John may yet choose to be the kind of man his father hoped he would be.”
She shook her head, “I met him and knew him when he was a child. He was a nasty little boy. Rafe is right. He is a mean little man but I have more hope than when you arrived.”
“Then we will return to Stockton. I have chests to fetch here. I will return on the morrow and then we can set off on this quest. It may be doomed to failure but the Warlord fought the whole country for the Empress Matilda and her son. We will do the same for this valley.”
Ruth smiled, “You remind me of my father. You will do, nephew, you will do.”
As we rode back to Stockton William said, “Lord, forgive me for speaking out of turn but you intend to kill the bishop do you not?”
“I do but keep that to yourself.”
“How do we kill him and escape with our lives?”
“I have yet to work that out but we have a long journey to Bolsover and then the same journey back to Durham. The road is a good place for a man to think. At least I have hope now. Wh
en I saw the desecrated grave, I was as low as a man could be. Those twelve men have revived my belief.”
When we reached the hall, I saw that my men were waiting and that Edward son of Edgar was with them. They were wearing surcoats with the gryphon on. Henry Youngblood said, “When we loaded the chests we found these, lord. There are another ten. I hope we have not offended you by wearing them.”
“No, and we will be leaving soon. Have our horses saddled. I will speak with Sir Richard. William, take charge and do not speak with the men at arms from the castle. I trust Sir Richard but not the others. I fear they may be the bishop’s spies. If you are asked where we go then say nothing. If it means being rude then do so. We are now in a land of enemies.”
Sir Richard awaited me. He nodded, “You did not stay overnight.”
“No and I beg a word in private, beyond any ears!”
“Then let us walk to St. John’s Well. Since the wall was demolished I find it a peaceful place and it is deserted at this time of day.”
The remains of the curtain wall could be seen and then the river. We sat on the stone of the well, “I am leaving and taking my chests. I tell you this for I know you to be an honourable man. I will leave my chests with my aunt. She is a strong-willed lady but she and her women live alone. I would be happier knowing that she was protected.”
“And I swear that she will be. Until you returned I had no idea that she lived so close. I will visit her.”
I smiled, “She will surprise you, lord. I have never met a woman like her.”
“And then, Sir Thomas, what will you do?”
“You are an honourable knight and we have fought in the same battle. I will not compromise you. Let us say I go to speak with Prince John and what else follows is in the hands of God.”
He nodded, “Do not waste your life eh?”
“I will not. You have my word.”
“And leave the carts with your aunt. I will fetch them when I go to speak with her.”
When we reached my men, they were ready. The horses were tethered in a long line and the two carts were loaded. There were many people watching us leave. I waved the line forward and we headed past the gates to the town and west. This was familiar land but if things went ill this might be the very last time I would see it. I took in every blade of grass and every tree. I would cross the Oxbridge and take the greenway to Hartburn. If there were spies then I would confuse them. I knew the ways and tracks like the back of my hand. There was a trail which led to Wulfestun. It passed along a valley which had no farms for the ground was subject to flooding. It might take a little longer to reach our destination but I wanted to do so unseen. If we had travelled further north then the bailiff at the Bishop’s Garth might have seen us and I wanted to remain hidden from him.
It was dark when we reached Wulfestun. My men joined the others and camped. My aunt had prepared food. William and I ate with her. She asked about the new lord of the manor. “Can you trust this Sir Richard?”
“I believe that I am a good judge of character. He was a Hospitaller.”
She nodded, “My father gave Aqua Bella to the Hospitallers. Perhaps this was meant to be. We had better have your men bury the chests which can be buried.”
“The weapons, mail, surcoats, shields and arrows we will take. We shall need them.” She gave me a sideways look. “Do not worry I will not slay Prince John no matter how much he deserves it. My father’s warhorses I will leave with you. I am not certain when I will get to ride them. I will need to take gold with me. We will have expenses and I have men to pay.”
“If you need more then I have coin. Our father was generous to both Samuel and me.”
“I thank you but you have been more than generous.”
She noticed the signet ring on my finger, “I have not seen that since father died. I thought it had been buried with him.”
“No and I have this too.” I took out the seal of Aqua Bella.
“Then you are meant to have them both. There were ten such signet rings. I wonder how many are left?”
“I will use it. Who knows, it may gain me an audience with the Prince. If he refuses…”
“If he refuses then you know where you stand. You return here. This land needs a knight to protect the border.”
My plans were already made. When I returned from Derbyshire I would tell her of my plans to go to Stock Holm. That would be some time in the future. We would need a ship and, if all went as I planned, we would need to leave quickly. I was aware of my father’s sister staring at me. I smiled.
“I know that look, Thomas. You look like my brother. You are plotting and planning. You are the last family I have. Do not throw your life away. You are the last of a line which goes back to the days of King Harold. Remember that.”
Chapter 7
We left four days later. We took just two sumpters with supplies. Each of my men carried their own weapons. I estimated it would take us six days for I wished to avoid too much attention. We did not use the Roman Road which went south and through York. I knew that there would be many who would try to stop me. I was certain that the Bishop of Durham knew that I had returned. It would be in his interest to have me stopped. As I had committed no crime he would have to use others to do me harm. There were twenty of us. Each of us was an experienced warrior. If we were attacked then we would defend ourselves. I wish to avoid such confrontation until it was absolutely necessary.
The journey south was an opportunity for me to become reacquainted with my father’s men and for the new men to get to know them. They had much in common. Within two days there were new friendships. David of Wales was happy to have other archers with whom he could talk. One of the chests had yielded five hundred arrows. We would need to make or buy more at some point but we had enough and that pleased my archers. They had divided them equally.
Edward son of Edgar had inherited many of the skills of his father and uncle. They had both been scouts under the legendary Aiden. Sir Richard had not known of his skills and he had just been used as a man at arms. I had him riding ahead with Will son of Robin Hawkeye. He too had skills in scouting. They became inseparable. The twins were also good scouts and they rode just behind them. At the rear, with the two sumpters I had Phillip of Poitiers and Ridley the Giant. As unlikely as it was the huge Ridley and the much shorter Angevin got on well together. Phillip rarely shut up and Ridley was a gentle and almost silent man. I knew that our rear was in safe hands.
I rode with William for I was aware that I had neglected his training as a knight. I was glad now that I had given him the fine sword which I had taken from the dead lord of Aqua Bella. He now had a decent mail shirt. His had gone to Robert of la Flèche. Four of my men at arms were without a mail shirt but they had leather jerkins studded with metal. At least every man had a shield, helmet and surcoat. My banner remained furled. I would not advertise myself until I was closer to Bolsover.
We bought food in the towns we passed. I avoided visiting the towns with castles. Prince John had been ruthless about destroying strongholds of potential enemies. Any castles which remained would be held by staunch supporters of John Lackland. There would be many, such as I, who would have returned from the crusades only to find that those who had not heeded the call were now men of power. My great grandfather had fought for Prince Henry and his mother and now his son was throwing away that which had been gained. The further south we went the angrier I became.
I spied the castle in the distance. “Now, William, it is time to show the banner.” I had not had the banner repaired. There were rents and cuts. The staff still bore the marks from the spears and swords of Ayyubid warriors who had tried to kill me. It looked tattered but that told a story. I wanted those who had stayed in England and lived off the blood which had been spilled to see it.
Bolsover Castle had a commanding position on a piece of high ground. Built towards the end of the civil war it had become Prince John’s and he had made it a solid bastion. The road wound up to the gatehous
e. I could see that it would take a mighty army to subdue it. I saw the prince’s banner. He was within the castle. I was stopped at the gatehouse. I had expected as much. My spurs and my banner marked me as a lord. I took off my helmet and William followed suit. I lowered my ventail and coif.
The sergeant at arms held up his hand, “I cannot allow you in with such a force of men lord. What is your business?”
“I am Sir Thomas of Stockton. I am recently returned to England from the Holy Land and I am here to speak with the Prince.” The authority was in my voice.
The sergeant at arms looked nervously behind me. “I can admit you and your squire, lord, but not your men.”
Turning I said, “David of Wales, make camp by the river. I will join you when my business is done.”
“Aye lord and if you are too long then fear not. We will come to fetch you.” He glared at the sergeant at arms. My men feared no one.
I smiled at the sergeant as I entered. I said, quietly, “And he means it! These warriors did not sit at home, they fought Turks and Scots.”
He looked at them and nodded, “Aye lord.”
Once in the inner bailey servants ran to take our horses. I took a silver penny from my purse, “Give them feed. They are good horses.”
“Yes lord.”
A chamberlain greeted us before we reached the Great Hall. “What is your business lord? It is unusual for a knight to come here unannounced.” The criticism oozed from his mouth.
I smiled, “I am Sir Thomas of Stockton. I am recently returned from the crusades and I am here to petition the Prince. Is that so unusual with his brother held hostage in Austria? I rode with King Richard.” He did not look impressed. I took off my glove and showed him the signet ring. “And I wear this!”
He nodded, “If you will wait, lord, I will pass your request to the Prince but he is busy.”
I knew that we would be in for a long wait. I saw a servant, “Fetch us ale or wine; whichever is drinkable!” He hesitated and I just glared at him. He scurried off.