Hoodsman: Revolt of the Earls

by Smith, Skye

  "It came just now with a courier from Cambridge bailey. The stable lad just handed it to me," the maid explained.

  Judith did not need to ask which lad. She reached forward and pulled some straw from the maid's hair and brushed some from her back. "Just now, not a half hour ago?" she teased. "Does he know that I will force him to marry you if your belly swells?" Quickly she inspected the seal of the pipe, and sighed, and then opened it and pulled out the scroll and began to read.

  The maid was still giggling at the thought of being married to the lad, but then frowned as she saw the brimming slop bucket. "Raynar," she scolded, "next time it's that full, piss out the window. How I am to carry that without spilling it."

  "Carefully," he replied and was about to make a jest when he noticed Judith’s face turn grim.

  "Odo has had Walt beheaded," Judith looked up from the letter that had been in the pipe. With Raynar's patient teaching, her reading skills had improved but her eyes filled with tears and she could not read more, so she passed the letter to Raynar to have him read it to her. "That pig Odo. He waited until William was back in Normandy, so that a pardon or a stay of execution could not reach the court in time to save him."

  Raynar sat up in the bed, and an eerie dread settled on his gut. "It is over then. The Danes no longer have a noble on the ground in their largest province. The times of Knut's rule of law, and the freedom it allowed, is now finished. Britons ever, ever, ever shall be slaves." He held the letter up to a patch of sunlight from the window and focused his eyes on the script.

  "At sunrise on May 31st, 1076, in the faire grounds on Saint Giles Hill east of Winchester," he read out loud to her. "So no spectacle then, for they usually do such executions at noon," he turned the letter over but it was blank. "They do not say where the body was taken."

  "There is another paper," she said and handed a scrap to him.

  "This is a corner of scribe waste, but in the same hand. It says the body was dragged to the ditch at the foot of the hill and sod thrown over it," his hands turned into fists. "Bastards. I'll wager they didn't let him hold a weapon when they took his head."

  "They are Christians," she sniffed, "it is not our way."

  "The executioner will have been a warrior. It is the way of all warriors, no matter their temple. Even as Christians they insult him with the shallow grave," he growled. "The scribe must have felt it hateful, else he would not have risked sending you this scrap, even to the widow."

  He climbed out of her bed and pulled his silk shirt over his head and then stood in the window and yelled down to a lad with straw in his hair who was walking across the yard. "Your earl has died in Winchester. Go to the Anske and hail my crew. Tell them they will need horses and provisions for a ride to Winchester to fetch the body. We leave as soon as they are ready. Oh, and send the tillerman to me for more instructions."

  She was then beside him, wrapped in the bed linen. "Wait." she called to the lad. "Tell the crew to send a skiff to fetch Abbot Ulfkettle from Crowland Abbey. He will want to go to Winchester with us," she hugged his arm between her breasts and kissed his ear. "I am going too. He was my husband. They cannot deny me his remains."

  "The children..."

  "Are off my tit now. I am going," she threw the linen back onto the bed and skipped naked across the room to her largest trunk and began throwing clothing towards the bed. There was a time that she had been embarrassed by her own nakedness, but that was before she had worked the eel traps, and had harvested reeds with the Frisian women. The early summer sun had turned her skin from milky white to creamy brown, all over. She went to the door and called to the maid to return, once the slop bucket was emptied and then returned to her trunk.

  The maid returned without knocking and caught them in each other's arms. She giggled, not at her mistress’s nakedness, but at the tent in the front of his shirt.

  "Oh stop it," Judith hissed her annoyance. "I know that you spy on us when we couple. Now please go and tell the household that I am leaving for two weeks so if they need any decisions from me they had better ask them soon. And tell cook that I need two days of food for thirty, and then come back and fold the clothes on the bed and pack them."

  * * * * *

  They took the same route through Oxford to Winchester as they had taken the year before. The manors welcomed them as long lost friends, for there was peace again and hospitality everywhere for a countess who was also the niece of both the king and the regent. The way went faster this time, without the burden of children and maids, and without the need to scout the way carefully.

  Each of them led a spare horse, and each of the spares was a stunning Frisian yearling. One of Thorold's horse traders had joined them for the journey to Winchester in hopes of finding a new market for the finest horseflesh.

  There were still many wild men and outlaws in the forests along the way, but those men waved and hooted greetings, and did not try to stop the thirty hoodsmen despite the immense value of the horses they led. With the revolt of the Earls well behind them, and with folks busy with summer tasks, there was a peaceful feel to the villages and fewer guard posts and fewer garrison patrols on the highways.

  Despite the peace along the highways and new stone houses springing up near every cross road, the folk of the south were even more ragged and more skinny than before. The manors where Judith slept at night were luxurious in their comforts and their imported fabrics. Every bailey was being rebuilt in stone, as if the sheriffs did not trust the barons, which they didn't. There was, after all, no English nobles left who were strong enough to threaten even a wooden bailey, so the stone improvements were all to protect Normans from other Normans.

  On the last day of the journey they heard that Odo was in residence in Winchester, so they decided not to approach the court right away with a request for Waltheof's body. Instead they rode directly to their Winchester stable. Six months ago they had left seven men at an abandoned stable, but now the stable was a thriving business.

  "These Normans will shave the coins they pay their workers with, but they spare no coins when it comes to caring for their horses," Much explained. "As soon as we spread the word that we wus open, we wus fully busy."

  While Much and Raynar were talking, and the men of the stable were hugging cousins, the horse trader was reorganizing stalls to make room for his yearlings. Judith climbed the stairs to the sleeping quarters and peered inside. There were women's voices from inside and she called to them. Two young Saxon women came to the door and were brash with her.

  "Oye," Much yelled up to the women, "you be polite like. That is the owner you are speaking to." He heard an immediate change in tone of the women's voices and then relaxed and turned back to Raynar. "They are local Saxon widows that needed a roof. They keep house for us in return for protection and room and board."

  "So two widows shared by the seven of you?" asked Raynar with a cocked eyebrow.

  "Three widows. We take turns. Polite like. Not like whoring. They keep us polite. Besides, when they first came there were only five of us 'cause the carpenters had found other work, but they are back now. They didn't like working for Normans. To many orders and not enough thanks."

  Judith called down. "They are preparing a bed for us. Come and see the view of the city from the roof."

  "Oh, aye," said Much quietly to Raynar, "a good view. Clear for shots all around, and no easy way up save that stair case which can be lifted by those pulleys to be out of reach."

  "Hmm, you've done well Much. I like the wall and the gate. Is it all around?"

  "It is, though we haven't needed it. I keep a barrel of ale near the gate in case the local watch are thirsty at night. We have the best watched gate in town."

  "I doubt that Judith or I will be staying long. If any of the seven want to be replaced and return to the fens, have them speak out." said Raynar slowly "How is the purse?"

  "More full than when you left it," replied Much. "I wasn't jesting about what a Norman will pay to have his horse c
ared for. Before the lady leaves however, I need her mark on another parchment." Much pulled Raynar out into the road and pointed to a tumbled down wreck of a mill a quarter mile away along the river.

  "I've made an offer on that mill," continued Much. "The mill deserves a good fire, but we need the water meadow about it to graze the horses."

  "But that land is too wet for beasts. Their hoofs will rot," replied Raynar.

  "That is why the mill is being sold for taxes. The stupid fuckers don't realize that if you unblock the mill channel that the meadow will be dry except in winter. We've been saving for the purse cause we didn't know when you would be back, but the holdup has been the lady's mark on the parchment, not the coin."

  "In the morning we will visit the bailiffs," offered Raynar. "Keep your purse intact for the next purchase. I have some useless gold coins to be rid of, and Judith is the only one that can spend them without the constables being called out."

  "Don't ya wanna see what you're buying first?" asked Much.

  "Why? Am I supposed to know more about a mill than a miller's son?" he slapped Much on the back and laughed aloud. "Will you burn the mill, or rebuild it?" It was unnerving to be speaking of milling and horse sales with a man who had helped him to slaughter so many knights.

  Much obviously did not share the strange feeling, for his words tumbled out describing his plans for the mill. "It was a corn mill, but the word on the street is that the Norman lords have the only right to mill corn. Mill wheels can power other things though, like hammers for forging and fulling, and craftworks for tanning and shaping. You know who we need down her. John Smith. I can rebuild the mill and the wheel and the race, but to turn it to other work, I need John's know how."

  They were interrupted by an impatient Judith repeating her call to come and see the view from the roof. Much did not see either of them again until Raynar slipped out of the gate with his horse about an hour before sunset. He was on his way to scout Saint Giles faire ground.

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  The Hoodsman - Revolt of the Earls by Skye Smith

  Chapter 39 - The body at Saint Giles fairground, Winchester in June 1076

  The next morning was spent paying bailiffs and inking parchment for the mill. Two of the Frisian lads wanted to go home to visit their families, but three others quickly volunteered to stay in Winchester. When Raynar, Judith, Abbot Ulfkettle and their escort mounted for the short ride to Saint Giles, they were packed for the ride home. This because after his scouting, Raynar was unsure that they would not be forced to steal Waltheof's body and therefore leave Winchester with some haste.

  They said as much to Much, and told him not to make trouble if the watch came looking for them at the stable. Then they rode directly to Saint Giles faire ground. In the small church, the countess made a substantial offering and in return, the priest there showed her to the area where she would be most likely to find her husband's corpse.

  It was low marshy land caused by the run off from the hill, and it was putrid from the waste that ran to such low land. The priest did not know the exact location, and so Raynar yelled to the folk around that there was a five shilling reward for the person who unearthed the body of Waltheof, the earl who had been beheaded on the last day of May.

  This caused a scramble to find spades and picks, and there was a near riot as men who thought they knew the place fought for the digging rights to those places with others. Eventually the disturbance caused two men-at-arms to be sent out from the closest gate of the city. They were not pleased to find thirty mounted bowmen and a mob of locals arguing and armed with spades. They sent a signal to the gate for more guards to ride out.

  The guards stopped all digging and all fighting, but even that required the threat of unsheathed steel. Eventually the captain of the gate arrived and before Raynar could speak, Judith was speaking. "I am the Countess Judith, niece of the king, and widow to Earl Waltheof, whose headless body was thrown into this bog. I have come to collect it."

  The captain had the good manners to dismount and bow to the countess, and the good sense to be polite to a woman who was so well escorted. "Do you have permission from the palace to remove the remains?"

  "Permission, I need no permission. I am the widow. The corpse is mine."

  "He was a traitor, and beheaded by order of the highest court. I either need to see the permission from the court, or a writ stating that you need no permission."

  The crowd around was growing, and growing angrier at the delay. The original diggers were complaining for now they would have more competition for the five shillings. The merchants were complaining that on that day of Waltheof's beheading they had been cheated of execution day sales because it had been held before sunrise. Those arriving to prepare for tomorrow's faire day were angry because the growing crowds were in the way of them setting up stalls.

  The captain finally lost his temper and yelled at the crowd, and then unthinking turned and in the same harsh voice yelled at the widow to go and get permission. There was a sudden silence all about him. Partially because no one, even his own men, could believe that he had yelled so at a grieving widow, but mostly because suddenly twenty arrows were nocked and aimed at him and his men.

  The captain slowly backed away from the widow keeping his hands away from his sides. "I apologize, your grace. My anger was meant for this unruly crowd, and not for you. Forgive me, and please ask your men to ease the spring from their bows."

  "Captain," Raynar asked, "who was in command on the morning that her husband was beheaded?"

  "Why, I was," admitted the captain, for his men all knew it, and to deny it would show cowardice.

  "Then you can tell these men where to dig. The faster the corpse is removed, the faster this crowd will disperse, and the less chance that you will end your days looking like a hedgehog."

  The captain almost tripped himself in his eagerness to retrace his steps from that evil morning and look down at the low land from the hill. "There," he yelled pointing. "No there, next to the boy with the blue hat. Yes, there."

  Raynar walked over to the boy. "Lad, which of these men with spades were standing here when you came?" The boy pointed to three men in a group of a dozen, and got a copper coin for his trouble. "You three can dig. The rest stand back and wait to see if they were right."

  It took but a few spades full to prove there was a body there, but a much longer time to uncover it with the care it deserved since the widow was watching, and to identify it as the earl's. The missing head was the final proof, and to find it took much more digging. Abbot Ulfkettle moved forward to save the countess the duty of identifying the corpse. He said some Latin magic words over the corpse and then suddenly dropped to his knees in prayer, and wailed to the sky for mercy.

  "What ails you monk?" asked the captain.

  "Can't you see," said Ulfkettle in a panicked voice, "there is no corruption, no worms, no maggots, no rat bites. This poor man was wronged and the lord God has preserved him as proof of it."

  The crowd was now pressing forward, and had grown some more, as folk arrived ahead of the faire. There were shouts of a miracle and everyone wanted to see it.

  "Monk," cautioned the captain, "I warn you to say no more for it was Bishop Odo who condemned him, and he will not be pleased with your words."

  "I fear Odo," said Ulfkettle, "but I fear my God even more. I must pray for this man's soul and spread the word of his innocence. Others have become saints for less. Here, you men, carry the body to the church, but before you enter, wash it off in that horse trough."

  Judith made to speak, but Raynar pulled at her arm. "No, love, let the abbot clean him and prepare him. He will travel the better for it." He counted out two silver coins for each of the three diggers, and they nodded in appreciation of his fairness.

  It was a mistake to wait for the cleansing and not to have kept an eye on the captain's men. Before the corpse was prepared, another troop of men arrived from Winchester, and this time Bishop
Odo was in the lead. "Woman, if you are grave robbing I will have you excommunicated and hung," Odo said the instant he arrived.

  The captain rushed forward yelling "Nooo" for he knew what to expect from her escort. His worst fears came true in seconds. Twenty arrows were suddenly pointing at the regent of the kingdom. To his credit, Odo did not show fear or even piss himself. He must have believed greatly in his own immortality, for he was but a whisper from certain death.

  "Tell your men to back away and keep their hands away from their weapons, or you will be dead on the ground before they draw them." Raynar told Odo in French and then English, and in a voice loud enough that all could hear. There was much pushing and shoving in the crowd around them as some wanted to flee a possible slaughter, while others wanted to witness the killing of the odious Odo. "Now very politely, ask for the countess's pardon."

  The bishop's men had backed away and were holding their hands away from their sides. The bowmen eased their draw in good faith. Most slowly switched their aim away from Odo and towards the other leaders with the guard. Raynar did not ease his own draw and his arrow, if loosed at this range, would lift the bishop from his saddle. "Abbot, come here and attend your bishop," he yelled. "Tell him of the corpse."

  Ulfkettle came forward and told the bishop of the miracle, and his feeling that it was proof that Waltheof had been wronged. The bishop listened unmoved and unbelieving.

  "The countess has come to fetch her husbands body from this bog and give it a Christian burial. Nothing more." Raynar said while he still sighted along his arrow at the warrior bishop's throat. "Now, instead, the abbot has proof that an innocent man was executed on your command. My lady. You may take your vengeance now. A word from you and the good bishop will be with his maker, burning forever."