Hoodsman: Revolt of the Earls

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by Smith, Skye


  "Why Constantine? I know much of that emperor. I lived in his city and read Greek scrolls."

  "He was the last of the Roman Emperors, and the first of the Greek emperors," replied Gruffydd, "and all Roman Emperors were descended from the gods, and before him the Romans had many gods."

  "And afterwards," interrupted Raynar, "even after he made Christianity the Roman religion."

  "Did you ever wonder why he chose Christianity over the other single god religions?" Gruffydd had spent many years imprisoned and had spent the time reading. No one else at his court could speak with him on the histories beyond Wales. He was smiling as he spoke. "Especially since most had the same god, the desert god of Abraham." His question resulted in a shrug so he continued. "Why, Christianity was the only single god religion which had a demigod, a half-breed, who could be a source of magic bloodlines."

  "But you don't believe ..."

  Gruffydd interrupted. "I am Welsh. I believe in the spirits that you can see the works of. I have no faith in all these myth gods like this desert god of Abraham or the Norse gods. They are the stuff of children’s stories and superstition. They are imaginary friends for grownups."

  He wondered how he could attract Raynar to live at his court. "I do not believe in magic bloodlines, but I understand the need for the belief. How else can one man say he deserves a crown, or a title, or a rich privilege, any more than the folk that do his bidding. He cannot, especially if he is not well endowed in physique, beauty, and brains."

  "You mean to say that if a man is so rich, why isn't he smart. And you, my prince. You will doubtless be offered the crown of all Wales by Henry. Do you deserve it because of your bloodline. Are you of a magic bloodline."

  "Why of course I am, and our bloodlines are traced back before the Caesars. My blood will make me King of all Wales, and eventually one of my line will be King of all Britain, again," Gruffydd broke into laughter.

  "Why do you laugh. Because you tell me that the magic bloodlines are nonsense, and then use them to your advantage."

  "No," said Gruffydd, "because Henry, King of the English, is the son of a bastard and has little magic in him and yet he will be as powerful as his bastard father was. The nobles of Normandy are devout in their belief of magic blood and so they hate the Conqueror's family, both Robert and Henry. Especially Henry, for his queen will bear him a son with magic blood."

  "Well not for another year at least. Both Henry and I enjoy his new daughter, but we sorely wish she had been a he to settle the politics of this kingdom."

  Gruffydd gave him a strange look at these words. "Hah, I wished and prayed for his first to be a girl, else knives would have found Henry's back by now."

  "Mortain has already tried twice, and failed. The king refuses to admit the danger, whereas the queen fears it. Her wish is that I kill Belleme before he has a chance to kill Henry."

  "Do you need help?" asked Gruffydd.

  "Two weeks ago you were his ally."

  "His family," replied Gruffydd, "the Montgomerys, have caused the death of tens of thousands of my folk. It was an uneasy alliance at best. It served us both for a short time, but now Henry has made me an offer not so good, but more likely to come to fruit." He was interrupted by a knock at the door.

  He cracked the door to listen, give an order, and then he returned. "One of your men wished to take a message to the wolfpacks you left at the fork. I have sent him with an escort." A look of panic crossed Raynar's face. "Fear not, Raynar, the escort carries roast pork and strong ale, not weapons."

  "That will please them greatly," replied Raynar, "for they are very tired of eating horse stew."

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  The Hoodsman - Revolt of the Earls by Skye Smith

  Chapter 29 - The surrender of Belleme at Shrewsbury in September 1102

  The view from Bestune hill was remarkable. The towers of Shrewsbury could be seen off to the left, but in a horseshoe to the north and east there was a heavy ring of smoke from the morning cooking fires of the countless fyrdsmen. Gruffydd had brought an escort of less than fifty men. His army had already decamped from Stretton and was on the move towards the border.

  Raynar led three wolfpacks. None of the patrols along the highway to Shrewsbury were willing to challenge a hundred and fifty mounted bowmen, so without delays they quickly reached the cross with the highway from Bridgnorth.

  At the cross a Marquee had been erected but it was surrounded by Belleme's guards. Gruffydd sent a message to the Earl with one of the guards and the Earl came forth from the huge tent and looked towards him. With some of his shieldmen in front of him, the Earl walked cautiously towards the prince. Gruffydd waved his own guards back, and then dismounted. He signaled to Raynar to join him. Together they walked towards the Earl.

  "I have nothing to say to you, Gruffydd," announced Belleme. "you have betrayed my trust."

  "We had an agreement, Robert," replied the prince, "but there was never any trust in it. I kept the agreement for three weeks, until I saw something from my grandfathers time. The raising of the English fyrd. Have your spies told you the numbers?"

  "Perhaps fifty thousand," replied Robert, "and apparently they all want my blood. Who is the tax collector?" Robert pointed to Raynar who was now dressed in his treasury clothes.

  "Allow me to present Raynar Porter, the queen's man who hunts Mortain."

  "Ahh," said Robert, "I have heard of you. Mortain is in Ludlow, so why are you here?"

  "My wolfpacks caught him on the road from Ludlow," replied Raynar. "He will not be joining you today." He purposefully stopped short of saying whether Mortain lived or died, and gave a warning look to Gruffydd that this was done on purpose.

  "I cannot fight such numbers," said Belleme. "You were wise to change sides. Who would have thought so many English would answer the call of the son of William the Conqueror?"

  "Only the lords answered the call from Henry," replied Gruffydd. "The English answered the call from his queen. You may thank Raynar here, and his hoodsmen, for that."

  "Now I remember you, hoodsman, wolveshead, assassin." growled Belleme.

  "The English answered the call of their queen," Raynar stated, "but since then Henry has ridden with them, and walked with them, and eaten with them, and sat talking across fires with them. They came as the queen's fyrd, but they will go back to their villages as the king's."

  The light wind changed directions and was filled with the smell of putrefaction. "Enough," spoke Raynar. "Before we talk further, Robert, I advise you to order your warning poles removed." He pointed to the rows of impaled cadavers that marked the main crossroad behind the earl. "If the fyrd see them, no power on earth will stop them from sweeping through this shire and impaling every Norman they find."

  The Earl stared daggers at this peasant who dared to call him by his first name, but then he motioned one of his knights forwards and murmured orders to him. The knight rode away towards the crossroad.

  Once work had commenced on removing the grizzly poles, Raynar spoke again. "There are three possible outcomes from this day of armies, and you have the choice of outcomes. The fyrd want you and your henchmen impaled before sunset. The queen wants me to slaughter you and all your lords with heavy arrows. The king, for some reason that escapes me, wants you to live. Attainted and banished to Normandy to be sure, but still alive. The question you have to ask yourself is, do you want to live?"

  Robert looked around at the men that faithfully followed him. It was not just his life, but theirs. He had honors in Normandy and in France. Churches and castles were being built on his order and from his purse in both places. He looked back to Raynar and Gruffydd. "Life, I choose life."

  "Then you and all your men must drop to your knees when Henry approaches and beg him for life. When he grants it, you will not bargain. You will stay kneeling and pray that he has enough power over the fyrd to stop a massacre."

  "So be it." agreed Robert, once the mightiest Earl in the kingdom.
r />   * * * * *

  The scene at the crossroads in front of Shrewsbury was not what Henry had expected. He had marched forward with his English bowmen in the lead and his most trusted knights and cavalry beside him. Around them in a huge crescent that spanned miles marched the fyrd. The fyrd were keeping time with the march by slamming weapons against weapons and weapons against shields. The din was unnerving, and made the spectacle as surreal as a nightmare.

  In front of Henry, two hundred lords and knights including Belleme were on their knees. To the left Raynar and Gruffydd stood with over a hundred bowmen, who were standing at ease but with arrows nocked. Behind the Earl's men, the braver of the townsfolk were huddled in groups watching.

  Henry motioned for his guards to stop and he alone rode forward towards Belleme. He noticed that the closer he got to the earl the further stretched were the wolfpack's bowstrings. He knew the men of these wolfpacks now. He had ridden with them, he was one of them. They protected each other's backs. Any misstep by he, or by any of the Earl's men, would send three hundred arrows a minute, well aimed heavy arrows, into the Earl and his men. There would be no escaping such a rain of death.

  Henry stopped his stallion and slowly, very slowly, twisted in the saddle and motioned to the callers he had marching with his English bowmen. "Callers, I will translate for Belleme. I want all my words, and only my words, to reach even the furthest of the fyrd."

  Though not fluent, Belleme understood both English and Welsh. He chose to speak in French so that his own men could hear his words. "Sire, we have come to confess that we have wronged you. We have been led by the fates down the path of traitorous treachery. We surrender to your will. We regret our wrongs. We ask your pardon. We plead for our lives and for the lives of our kin."

  Henry turned to the line of a thousand bowmen who stood in front of his cavalry and said in English. "The Earl of Shrewsbury surrenders. He wishes to live. He claims the pardon promised in my charter, the same pardon that so many Englishmen have marched here on this day to claim." The callers spread the words like echoes across the fields of men. There was a murmur in the ranks that turned into a roar of "Death, Death, Death."

  Henry turned back to the still kneeling Belleme. "Will you freely accept attainder and banishment for life?"

  "We do." replied Belleme.

  Henry turned to the bowmen and the callers and said in English. "The Earl renounces all claims to anything in this kingdom, and will leave this kingdom and never return."

  The roar came back but not so loudly "Death, death, death."

  "Robert, you and your men will not return to the castle. Your women and children will remain in residence there until you are in Normandy, and then they will be sent to you. You will travel with what you have now with you, and you will be guarded for your own safety to my ships. Do you swear that you will not try to escape and that you will keep the peace?"

  First the Earl, and then all his men replied, "I so swear."

  Henry turned to his callers. "Men, he has sworn to leave directly for the coast and never return." He paused while the message echoed. "Men, I have a problem that can only be solved by each one of you." He paused again. "The pardon promised by my charter was for all men. The law promised by my charter was for all men. This last year we have learned that a king's pardon means nothing if all men do not honor the pardon."

  Now there were discussions in the ranks, but the sound that came back was of agreement. "Men, you stand here today in front of a humbled castle because you believed that the pardon must be honored by all." Again there were discussions, and then a rolling thunder of voices began "by all, by all, by all."

  "If that is your wish, men," said Henry, "then from this day you have made my charter the law of this kingdom and all men must honor it and all men must pardon each other."

  These words spread across the host and a giant cheer erupted. Henry let them cheer a while, and then he held up his arms to quiet them. "Now you understand my problem. How can I uphold the pardon of my charter as the law of the land, and yet kill these men."

  The crowd noise dropped to an eerie silence, where the only sound was of horses and coughs and an occasional clatter of clumsiness. A voice shouted from the ranks of the bowmen. "Then pardon the bastard and let's be rid of him." Another voice picked it up and yelled, and another, and another, until the words became the decision of the masses.

  "You have spoken. So be it," yelled Henry, "The charter of liberties is now law." The rounds of cheers lasted and lasted and lasted, but eventually died down so that Henry could speak again. "I thank you all for bringing peace to our kingdom. But the peace will not last if we have a hungry winter. Go now, return to your villages. Bring in the harvest smartly so there is no hunger. And.... And on your way home, take care to keep the peace, for the pardon is for the evils of the past, not for new evils done from this day forth."

  Henry ordered his bowmen to surround the earl's men to protect them while the fyrd men were on the move. The fyrd, seeing this, joined with others to form village groups and began their long walk home.

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  The Hoodsman - Revolt of the Earls by Skye Smith

  Chapter 30 - Sorting Shrewsbury Castle in August 1102

  The orders being given by the bowmen at street level echoed off the stone walls and along the walkway that ran behind the crenellations. Robert of Belleme's castellan and his garrison had been disarmed and were being marched under guard to join their Earl's column of men. Raynar could see by the puffs of dust that the column was already moving, on it's way to Portsmouth and the ships.

  "May they be loaded on horse ferries for the crossing." cursed Brunt. Raynar had sent to Hesleie for the man immediately. As the son of a mason who had built these walls, he knew the burg and the castle and it's secrets. He had also sent for Brunt's tough sister Gysel to help him deal with the women of the castle. Her bruises and scratches had healed and she looked ten years younger. She had brought Jeanne with her as she feared to leave her alone in Hesleie with so many wild men ranging.

  "May a great storm swallow their ship." cursed Raynar and spat to show the fates that he was serious. The others joined in the spitting.

  Henry, guarded by a wolfpack, was riding in a wide tour of the fyrdmen saying his thankyous in person. He had split his lords and their cavalry into small groups and sent the groups in all directions to patrol the highways to make sure the peace was kept while the fyrd made their ways home. They expected no trouble from the fyrd so long as no Norman lord stood in their way or made demands, so their task was actually to ensure that no Norman played the fool.

  The men-at-arms of the lords and knights had been sent to garrison the forts along the Welsh border where they would serve a useful purpose while at the same time, be removed them from the influence of their normal leaders. Henry put trusted Alan FitzFlaad in command of them, and he was to center the forces out of Oswestry. Gruffydd had sworn to Henry that he would keep the peace on the border, and to entail upon the Welsh not to raid across it. During the oathing, Henry had addressed him as King Gruffydd in front of both Welsh and English witnesses.

  Henry did not trust his own barons in range of Belleme's sly tongue, so the ex-earl's column was escorted by five hundred English bowmen. Belleme's men were still armed, though shed of armour. The bowmen's orders were clear and simple. Anyone who broke their oath and tried to escape or broke the peace was to be immediately wounded. If those men persisted, they were to be killed.

  Since Henry's right hand man, Robert Meulan, was fully busy sorting the newly fallen castle at Bridgnorth, Henry assigned the task of sorting Shrewsbury to Raynar. It was his easiest decision, as there was no one else he trusted with the great treasure that must lie within these castle walls. Somewhere.

  Raynar had acted immediately. He led three of his wolfpacks and two hundred of the Royal Archers and took immediate control of the gates and the walls. With the walls under his control he had ordered the prior garri
son rounded up, disarmed, and sent on their way to catch up to their master. His next orders were to secure every street and courtyard. The folk were ordered to their own beds. Looters would be shot. Rapists would be shot.

  Some fools had locked themselves in the keep and the town elders were currently begging them to open the gates. Raynar was patient. No one was going anywhere. He understood their fears of the unknown during such rapid changes to life in Shrewsbury.

  Eventually some priests and monks within the keep threw the bolt and the gates opened. Raynar and Brunt looked down at the elders before the gate, and Raynar voiced his thanks for their help. Then he ordered the bowmen not to enter until he ordered it. Instead he took Brunt as a guide as well as the two young women so that his party did not look like raiders.

  The staircase down led them beside a large building that Raynar took for an Inn, but Brunt told him differently. "This is the garrison whore house," he said.

  "You, monk," Raynar yelled at one of the monks coming out of the keep. "Are there nuns about?"

  The monk was panicked by the question, and must have had visions of nuns being raped by the mob of commoners that had taken the castle walls. Raynar saw the look on his face and said "This whorehouse is closed by order of the king. We need chaste women to take control of it until the women can be sent back to their villages."

  With relief the monk bowed and ran off saying he would carry the message to the abbess. Brunt ordered five men to guard the door. No woman was to leave and no man was to enter.

  Raynar and Gysel were the first to enter the keep, but were followed closely by Brunt and Jeanne and one wolfpack.

  "The monks and the servants are free to go to their beds, but search them at the gate to ensure there is no theft," ordered Raynar, and then in a very loud voice, "Remember that looters and rapists are to be shot." There was much rustling of clothing and metallic sounds as would be looters changed their minds. "All other men are to be tied to the benches in the great hall until we can question them."

 

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