by Smith, Skye
There was a heavy metalled door to one side and Brunt told them that beyond it was the stairway to upper and lower floors. Raynar walked over to the best dressed man in the hall and whispered in his ear. "I am the king's treasurer," he said, as if such were not evident by his clothes. "In the kings name, where is the castle's treasury?"
The man looked him in the face and played ignorant. "Who are you?" asked Raynar.
"I am the earl's chamberlain. I run the household."
"Then you have the keys. Come with us to unlock the doors," ordered Jeanne.
"I do not take orders from women," said the chamberlain, but then screamed in pain as Brunt twisted his arm behind him and up towards his neck.
"When the Lady Jeanne gives you an order, you obey. Do you understand?," Brunt growled into his ear. "Fair warning. The next time you disobey you loose fingers." He took a handful of collar and twisted it and used it to lift the chamberlain onto his toes, then he danced him to the door to the upper and lower floors. "Get your keys ready. First we check the upstairs and then the downstairs."
The floor above the great hall held the armoury and sleeping quarters for guards. Two men were found hiding in the corners, but they were simply dressers and were sent downstairs. Two bowmen were left at the top of the stairs as a guard with orders that only bowmen could use the staircase.
The next floor contained the earl's quarters. They were lavish. Two women were waiting for them. They were expensively dressed and bejeweled. One looked French and the other Flemish. When Raynar told them to remove the finery, he did not expect them to loosen the laces and drop the clothes to the floor and step out of them to stand naked in front of him.
Raynar felt himself blushing. "I meant change into normal clothes." he stammered. They giggled.
Gysel had to push through the bowmen who had stalled in the doorway staring. She stepped quickly towards the two women and slapped them both hard across their faces. "Cover yourselves, sluts," she said, "and take the jewels off."
The French looking woman held her cheek and pulled some linen from the bed to cover herself with. "We are the earl's courtesans. It is expected that we display ourselves to his guests."
"We are not his guests," Raynar said, still staring. If these beauties could so quickly stir and old man like him, he could imagine the state that the young bowmen standing behind him would be in. "The earl is a prisoner of the king. He is being taken south to be put on a ship to Normandy. Are either of you wives of any of his lords."
The Flemish one snickered. "Wives, hah," She had covered herself only with her arms and hands and was enjoying teasing the men. We are courtesans from the courts of Paris. "And these are my jewels. They were not gifts, I earned them."
"Where is the earl's wife?" asked Jeanne sweetly.
"You mean Countess Agnes?" replied the French one. "He keeps her locked up in his castle at Belleme in France. He visits her once a year to sire her."
Raynar forced himself to stop staring at the courtesans. "Chamberlain. There are two doors. Open them both."
"That one I can open," replied the chamberlain and after a quick look at Brunt he rushed to open it. "The smaller door is the treasury. The only key is with the earl."
Brunt told one of the men still gaping at the courtesans to go downstairs and return with some axes for the door.
Raynar walked passed the chamberlain and into the other room with Gysel on his heels. He stopped immediately and turned and blocked Gysel's entry. There was a woman’s cry from the room behind him and Gysel pushed passed him.
There were three women in the room, all diminutive Welsh women, all naked, all tied to pallets. Their backs and buttocks had been scourged by some kind of whip. Their white skin had small patches that looked like burn blisters. "Bastard," Gysel yelled and ran to the closest woman and used her small knife to cut the bonds. "Raynar, these women need your tending."
"I have other matters to tend to right now, Gysel," replied Raynar. "I shall send men to find the town's healers."
"Don't bother," said the beaten woman furthest from them, "we are the healers. Send instead for fermented milk. Sheep’s milk if possible."
Raynar backed out of the room and gave the quest to a bowman. The bowmen were so distracted by the courtesans that they barely reacted. "Jeanne," he said, "put the courtesans in the room with Gysel and close the door and guard it."
An axe had arrived carried by a giant of a man. "You have some axe work for me?" he asked. He was shown the door. "Fuckin' thing is oak and steel. Do you mind if I break the lockset instead of the door? That would be quicker than trying to get through this door." At Raynar's nod he swung the biggest of the axes and the head came down in the crack of the door just above the lockset. "One more," he said as he swung again, and sure enough there was the sound of steel clattering to the stone floor behind the door.
The big man was about to kick in the small door, when Brunt saw a strangely evil look on the face of the chamberlain. He grabbed the big man by the arm and stayed him from opening the door. "You do it." he said to the chamberlain. The chamberlain suddenly looked like a trapped rabbit.
"The earl sets traps." the chamberlain said with a shake in his voice. "I do not know what they are, but it would seem logical to have a deadly one for anybody who forced this door of all doors."
The big man hit the chamberlain with a ham sized fist and the man crumpled to the ground. "I'll use that bench," the big man said and he picked up a ten foot bench from against the wall and used it as a battering ram against the door. The door slammed open and everyone stepped back not knowing what to expect. Nothing happened. The big man swung the long bench back and forth in the doorway. Nothing.
Brunt shrugged and walked into the room. Suddenly he dropped to a crouch and moaned. Then he looked around and laughed. "You should see your faces. Can't a man pull a sliver from his foot."
Raynar joined him inside the small room. There were chests stacked against every wall and a small table and bench in the center with a large candle holder. While Raynar counted the chests, Brunt checked to see if any were not locked. There was only one unlocked, one of the smaller ones, and quite ornate. Brunt made to open it, but Raynar’s hand pushed down on the lid to stop him.
"If I were setting a trap, it would be in that chest," warned Raynar. I suggest opening that one outside and with a long pole.
The big man was inspecting the damage he had done to the lock. "It's fucked," he said, "but the door can still be barred from the inside."
Raynar called to a bowman who was slowly walking around the sumptuous room looking at everything. He and the big man were told to stay inside the treasury room and keep the door barred. The door was not to be opened to anyone without the password, and none of the chests were to be touched.
Now came the task that no one was looking forward to, the lower floors. They took a dozen men with them with swords and torches. The first floor down was another guards room and looked well used. Stairs descended down from it beneath an iron grate that was lifted by pulley lines. They left four men to guard the open grate and descended into the rank smell below.
"Fucking bastard," whispered Brunt through his teeth. The torches revealed the stuff of nightmares. To the left, three men and a woman were impaled on large hooks swung from the ceiling. To the right there was an iron pen with a dozen faces looking out towards them. At the end there was a line of heavy benches with shackles attached. Two of the benches had women strapped to them with their naked bottoms in the air.
"Release them all, and take them all to the great hall," Raynar said choking back his rage.
"And the impaled ones?" asked Brunt.
"It is too late for them. Kill them quickly if they are not dead already and then pull the bodies off the hooks." There was a shuffling noise behind him, from beneath the stairs. A grizzly figure dragged himself out into the torchlight. He seemed to be unable to speak and just made gesturing motions.
Raynar followed him and found a narrow d
oor behind the stairs. It was locked. He told the chamberlain to unlock it. The chamberlain was still at the top of the stairs. "Come down, else I will have you kicked down," said Raynar.
"If it is locked, then some one has barred it from within," replied the chamberlain.
Raynar pounded on the door, "Open in the name of the king," he yelled.
There were sounds from the other side, and then the sound of a bolt being slid, and then the door opened. Four guards trooped out with their arms above their heads and no weapons in sight.
"Take these ones to the great hall and tie them and guard them," ordered Raynar.
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Hoodsman - Revolt of the Earls by Skye Smith
Chapter 31 - Sorting the Shrewsbury women in August 1102
It took hours and hours in the great hall to sort all the people. The kitchen staff were the first identified so that they could go about their duties as normal. The prisoners from the dungeon were next in order to see what care they needed to bring them back to health. A dozen of Belleme's henchmen were sent to the dungeon to await further investigation, including the four dungeon guards and the chamberlain.
Once the castle folk were sorted, Raynar had to make the rounds of the walls and ensure that the watch was organized for the castle gate, the burgh gate and the streets within the walls. Everything was peaceful, mainly because everyone had been ordered to stay by their beds while the new guard was set up.
He decided to get away from the hundreds of decisions that needed making and get some peace and quiet in the lords chamber. He climbed slowly up the stairs to the chamber, exhausted, and looking forward to perhaps an hours nap before returning to the great hall. It was not to be, for when he opened the door he found a room full of bickering women.
"Everyone calm down," he yelled. "I need some peace."
"She," said the French courtesan pointing to Gysel, "wants to send us down to the whorehouse to be ruled by nuns."
"It is no longer a whorehouse," replied Raynar, "and the nuns are there to make sure that the women are no longer mistreated until they can be sent to their homes."
"We are not whores," said the Flemish woman, "we are courtesans. We do not sell our asses, we entertain and intrigue. I speak five languages and can sing and dance and recite poetry and charm men with my looks and my grace. We were brought to this country town by Robert of Belleme to teach the ways of the finest courts to his country lords."
"Gysel, there is a difference between courtesan and whore," said Raynar, pleading with his eyes for her to drop this request.
"Apparently," Gysel replied, "though I suspect the real difference is price. You saw how quickly they stripped off their clothes when you arrived. If she acts like a whore and smells like a whore, then why call her a horse."
"We took off our clothes," explained the French woman, "because by the look of the men rushing into the room, we were about to be raped. Those gowns are of silk and precious stones and are worth a fortune. I doubt there is the like anywhere in this backward kingdom. We did not want them ripped off us and ruined."
"So Belleme brought you here from Paris to charm his men, not to warm his bed?" asked Raynar.
"The Earl slept alone, and for your information, his sexual tastes were disgusting. He liked to do bound women and whip them while he did them. Ask them." the French woman pointed to the three Welsh healers who were tending to each other's backs in a corner of the room.
"She speaks the truth," said the woman holding a pot of curds and applying the white salve to another’s back. "Belleme used his cock as a weapon to hurt rather than as a large thumb to caress."
This healer spoke English well so he continued in the same tongue. "Why you three? You are not the harlot type, you are not painted women, nor, forgive me for saying, are you particularly young or pretty."
"Belleme had a disease of the skin," said the healer. "He feared it was leprosy from the Holy Lands. He brought us here one at a time to tend it. It was skin fungus, nothing more. We all said the same, and gave him a balm made with hot spring salts to cure it. He evicted the," she looked at the courtesans, "whores from that room and locked us in. He thought we were lying to him hoping for the leprosy to worsen. He was holding us until our cure was proven. Those whores would raise the lust in him and then he would come onto us to sate it."
"The man had a sickness," said another healer, "but it was not of his skin. It was of his mind. Look what he did to me." She pointed to the burns on her breasts. "He could not grow hard unless he was hurting me. That is why he never mounted those whores. They were too costly to ruin with rough treatment."
Raynar turned his gaze once again to the two courtesans. They were now dressed in smocks of a simple cut, but of silk. The silk clung to their shapes and he found himself staring. They caught his stare and played to it by reaching up to their hair, which brought the silk taught against their nipples and made their breasts wobble.
He quickly looked down at the floor so that he could gather his thoughts away from watching their bodies. "So what now for you two? Do you wish to follow Robert to his castle at Belleme, or return to Paris, or would you rather visit Winchester or London before you make that decision?"
"So we have options, no?" said the French one "We thought we were prisoners, and that our guard was that kitchen girl from the brothel." She pointed a long finger at Gysel.
"Once Belleme and his men are in Normandy," explained Raynar, "their households are to be sent to them. In the meantime the households are to travel to Winchester in expectation of a sailing date. Do you consider yourselves part of his household?"
"Pah," said the Flemish woman, "We are well free of the man. He brought us here under a two year contract. After only six months I hope never to see him again. We certainly have no wish to stay in this mud hole of a town. We will travel to Winchester with the households and make our decision once we see the palace there."
Raynar groaned to himself. Edith would not be pleased to have these two vamps descend into her court.
"I still say send them to the whorehouse and let the nuns decide their fate," said Gysel.
"Oh, stop all this nastiness," interrupted Jeanne who was sitting by the window using the light to mend one of the ornate courtesan gowns. "I think we are all stuck in this room together for a week while the armies march home, so we may as well learn to get along."
"Not us," said one of the healers, "If you will give us decent clothes and assign us an escort we will go to our homes today. Each of us lives within the burgh."
"Are you well enough to help others?" asked Raynar, "The reason I ask is that the prisoners from the dungeon are now in the great hall and need tending, but they need more than a wash and food. They have sores and wounds."
"I am well enough," replied one of the healers. "If you will send to my hut for my medicine basket, I will try to help those poor souls." She looked at the other two healers, but they shook their heads, no. "They were abused by the Earl for longer than me. I suffered him for only two days."
"The escort for the two going to their homes can bring back the basket," said Raynar. "Gysel, when they are ready, go with them to the floor below and arrange for their escort." He looked around the room at the various women. "Now please let me rest for an hour. I am so tired."
He never did fall asleep. The chatter of the women never ceased, though at least they were thoughtful enough to whisper. His mind was too busy trying not to forget a hundred things that he must remember to do. Eventually he gave up trying to sleep. When the healers went downstairs to leave, he went with them. One of the healers was in much pain and he arranged for one of the escorts to carry her on his back to her home.
In the great hall the ealders from the burgh were still listening to the stories of all the folk in the castle to sort out who were household, who were visitors, who were of interest to the courts, and who were waiting for other folk to vouch for them. Those of interest to the courts were sent to the du
ngeons with brooms and mops to clean it, for that would be their lodgings until a moot could make decisions were made about them. They were actually relieved that they were not to be bound or chained.
There were piles of bones and bowls on the tables, so the kitchen staff must have served food for all. Raynar marched Gysel into the kitchen and called the staff together and told them that she was in charge of the household, and that her orders were his orders. He then whispered to Gysel that he was hungry, as would be the guards on each floor, and the women in the lord's chambers. Gysel looked at her new charges in the kitchen and gave her first orders.
With responsibility for the running of the household thus delegated, he was free to go back to the great hall and listened to the ealders make their inquiries. They were very thorough and were not easily fooled. He intervened only once, on behalf of a Welsh prisoner. "He is of no interest to the king," he spoke out to interrupt an ealder. "Let him eat his fill, stay the night in safety, and then he may return to his home."
"But he has an outstanding charge for horse theft," argued an ealder.
"Was there any violence." He repeated the question in Welsh. The answer was no. "Then he is lucky that we have more important things to deal with. I free him under the king's pardon." He stopped talking because a kitchen girl arrived with a plate of food for him. Other staff were making for the stairs with steaming cauldrons and armloads of bowls. He waved across the room to Brunt, who came to him directly.
"The burgh is quiet now," said Raynar, "Have the guards on the walls and on the streets break themselves into three watches, and have two of the watches report here to eat and rest."
Brunt walked across the hall to send the message with ten of the bowmen standing in the back of the hall. Once they were on their way, he returned to wait for more orders. As each watch came and sat to eat, Raynar and Brunt joined them and questioned them about what they had seen happening in the burgh. The answers were similar. The folk were all scared of their shadows and keeping to their homes. They had opened the gates to very few men, and only to those that had good reasons to be about.