Hoodsman: Saving Princesses

by Smith, Skye

  "Humph," breathed Agatha, "what are those other scrolls?"

  "They are Raynar's too, but they are not maps. They are diagrams, but they would be useless to Edgar as he has not translated them from Greek."

  "So the lad finds his true way in life," Agatha sounded satisfied. "He will become a clerk or a monk."

  "Oh mother, you are so thick. Raynar is like a finely sharpened sword made from steel that cannot shatter," replied Cristina. "Edgar should do everything he can to keep him close to us."

  "He has tried. We have tried." replied Agatha. "We have offered him land and position. He politely refuses each time. "

  The sisters looked at each other and smiled. Cristina spoke, "Offering land to Raynar is like offering a cage to a hawk." Her smile became sly. "Keep him fed and he will stay. Feed his stomach, feed his mind, and feed his sex.” Margaret laughed aloud at Agatha's shocked look.

  "You will not," the mother sputtered, "neither of you. You will not. I forbid it. You are about to be presented to the Scottish court. There are nobles a-plenty there in exile from Wessex and Mercia and Northumbria, as well as those from Denmark and Flanders and France. Even nobles from the Germanies and other duchies of the Holy Roman Empire." Her voice was rising in emotion as both her daughters were chuckling at her rant. "Remember the empire, where you were born." She stood to leave. " I forbid you. I will see him dead first."

  Margaret grabbed her mother by the wrist and twisted it to force her to come back to the sister's work table, "We are not young girls anymore to be spoken to in such a way. In most courts we would be on the verge of becoming aged spinsters. If you want us to pose and parade at the court in Scotland, then you will retract what you just said, and vow to Mary, mother of God that you will never harm him.” She twisted harder and could see the pain in her mother's face. "That man has saved your life three times, no, four times now. Now on your knees and retract it."

  Agatha looked to Cristina for help, but Cristina pushed her down onto her knees. She thought of calling for help, but then the servants would know, and then the gossip would fly through entire fortress. Both sisters were pushing her head down and they were not gentle. She crossed herself. "I swear by Mary that I will never seek harm for Raynar Porter." She tried to rise but was stopped, so she continued "and that the choice of my daughter's partners is theirs and not mine." Her daughters helped her to her feet, and each kissed a hand.

  "Calm yourself mother," Cristina spoke quietly as she straightened her mother's hair and clothing. "Neither of us have any intention of bearing his child, no matter what else we desire from him."

  Margaret looked at her sister with eyes wide and a question on her lips, but it would wait until her mother had left them alone together.

  * * * * *

  Late that night, Raynar was enjoying the silence of the house at the writing desk. The area around the writing desk was curtained off to keep in the warmth of the brazier. The nights were too long and he was in the habit of going to bed early but rising before the household and wrapping his cloak around himself and creeping to the writing desk. In the early morning before others woke, he could concentrate on copying the maps and the diagrams without interruption. He had an urgency to copy as much as possible before he lost access to the Bishop's books.

  Usually he combined two or more of the original maps into one. He purposefully made his copies smaller so they would be easier to use without tables to spread them out on. Most of the maps he had chosen to copy had been commissioned by Knut and so would still be accurate. He had looked with interest at the more ancient maps, but they were clumsy to envision and there was no concept of scale. He considered them works of fancy rather than useful tools.

  On this day he was looking at an ancient map that was different. It was obviously a copy of a copy of a copy to have survived so long. He had shuffled it aside many times over the weeks, but yesterday it had dawned on him what the code to the map was. All the maps he had copied to date had been maps to help him move around the kingdom, by street, by river, or by sea.

  This map was very different. This was a map of Roman mines in the Pennines. This map could make someone very rich. If only one of the coded marks on this map was no longer populated with miners, then this map could lead to a windfall. The tiny code strained his eyes, and he started dozing despite himself.

  He dreamed of the deliciousness of sex with the Frisian women. With them he had explored the caressing of the senses and the utter rapture that built in the other person as they were caressed. He often had such dreams after spending the days with the sisters. They often mocked his refusal to stand after they had been working close to him.

  If standing with a piece of wood between your legs was embarrassing, walking with one was even more so. When alone with him they teased him to the point of cruelty. The dream changed from the pleasure of the Frisians, to the pleasures he dreamed of with Margaret. He knew that he would wake soon because his guilt of being carnal with her always woke him.

  This time he was not waking. The dreamily delicious sensations continued. And then he realized that he was no longer dreaming, and there was a warm smooth face against his thigh, and his member was being kissed and caressed. Fears flooded his mind.

  'Oh please let it be a maid,' he thought, 'oh please let it be my lovely Margaron and not Cristina.' He was too far gone to pull back. He was a slave to the deliciousness of the sensations. He pushed his hand hard over his mouth to squelch the girly noises that he had started making. Light filled his mind and he was there. Whoever had pleased him so, was busy swallowing, for it would be much easier to swallow than to clean up afterwards.

  He yawned to catch his breath and to stifle his moans and kept his eyes closed half fearing who he would now find under the table. The woman emerged from under the table, being careful of the glowing brazier, and stood beside him and pushed his head back and kissed him full on the lips. She tasted of him and he opened his mouth to her tongue, and then opened his eyes and sighed with relief. It was his Margaron, his pearl.

  "I could not resist," she whispered, "you were sleeping and your cloak had fallen open."

  "You shouldn't have," he whispered back, "so I thank you even more."

  She opened her own cloak and pulled his head towards her chest and softly massaged his eyes with her breasts. She thought to herself, 'I could not resist, for if I had not, then Cristina most certainly would have.'

  The next few weeks spent waiting for the sea weather to calm and for the winds to become more southerly, were some of the happiest they had ever known. They had found a way to be closer without breaking the ultimate taboo. She was gentle, and he was skilled, and the limits of their joy were the limits of their privacy. They searched out places in the fortress where they could pleasure each other without their moans giving them away.

  As the weather calmed and the sea calmed, Margaret became more anxious. He was eager to see Scotland, but she was irritated each time he mentioned the trip or the place. "If I could return to the convent I would. I prefer the convent to Scotland. I always have," she often said without explanation.

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  The Hoodsman - Saving Princesses by Skye Smith Copyright 2010-13

  Chapter 12 - Losing a Princess at Dunfermline, Scotland in April 1069

  Edgars company had sailed on fair winds from Amble. There were two ships, which more than doubled the security. When the big Cog arrived, and was readied for the sail to Scotland, Edgar split his men. The bowmen sailed on board his Cog, while the infantry rode and herded horses north to meet them in Scotland.

  Prince Cospatrick had a smaller Cog, though still larger than the Frisian Cogs that young Raynar had crewed on in the Wash. The Prince had left most of his shield men at Bamburgh with his wife and young family and his own treasure. Edgar's tales of the effectiveness of bowmen against a raiding longship in the Wash had convinced him to also bring all of his own bowmen onboard his ship.

  They stopped first at
Lindisfarne to deposit Bishop Aethelwine's chests and treasures with his monastery there, and to tell the good brothers to prepare for the return of their relics. At that point Cospatrick switched passage to the larger Cog, and Raynar was asked to take his place on the smaller one. This was Edgar's idea. He wanted the smaller Cog to be free to harry any other ships that may approach them, and this would be better done if Cospatrick were not aboard it.

  Cospatrick had challenged the choice of Raynar over one of his own huscarls, but Edgar made two undeniable points. Raynar had crewed on the Frisian Cogs that had played this role in the Wash, and Cospatrick's bowmen on the cog had been trained by Raynar, and would follow his orders without question.

  A quick tour of the smaller cog pleased and amazed Raynar. It was of a newer design than Edgar’s cog. It had the ability to both row and sail, as did the smaller Cogs of the Wash, due to the watertight covers that could close the oar ports. What's more, it had a rudder fixed to its stern, which was far superior to the steering oar on the other Cogs. More remarkable still, it had leeboards, which were boards that could be swung down from the leeward gunnels of the ship to stop the sideways drift cause by the wind in the sails.

  The captain was well pleased with the replacement of Cospatrick by Raynar on his ship. Cospatrick could never accept the distinction between the powers of Captain and those of Owner when on board. Raynar on the other hand, was a game hand, and eager to learn everything about the craft.

  The captain was more than pleased to show off the sailing power of his ship. The leeboards not only allowed it to sail closer to the wind, but they increased the forward speed of the ship in any wind. They ran astern of Edgar's cog first under sail and then under oar to train the bowmen to the feel of them. It was a barge to row, but under the combination of sail and oar, it was fast enough.

  The captain told him that the ship had been built in Friesland, in Harlingen, and he was mighty proud of her. Raynar, on instinct switched into his limited Frisian and was rewarded with a broad smile from the captain. What followed was the common traveler talk trying to find the names of people they both knew. Compared to the grizzled captain, Raynar felt like he had been nowhere, seen nothing, and knew nobody on this Sea.

  They hugged the coast as they sailed, and Raynar spent much time making notes on his maps of the landmarks along the coast, which lent his maps the knowledge of the sea view. The Captain was engaged by the maps. He showed Raynar his own navigation bible, his rudder. A scroll with pictographs of the main headlands and bays, with visible clues to locations noted in his own shorthand.

  "The knowledge I keep in this rudder is worth a ship to traders on the North Sea,” the captain told him. When Raynar looked skeptical, he added, "I suppose it is more correct to say that the lack of this knowledge is worth a ship, because many ships are lost to reefs and tides in these waters."

  Once the bowmen had proven themselves worthy of their oars, Raynar took each aside, one by one, and taught them the timing of loosing arrows in a rolling sea. They had to learn the patience to wait to loose until that moment when the ship stalled still on the top of a wave.

  The fair weather did not just entice Edgar to sail to Scotland, but it also enticed every other ship along this coast to sail, including the traders, the fishermen, and the raiders. They were followed many times by small coastal ships, but each kept their distance when they saw that the large cog had a smaller and faster escort. Usually all that was required was to run the oars out, and the coastal ships would turn away.

  Twice ships made to cut the large cog off but the smaller cog chased them off using the speed of combined oars and sail. Once they even got within bowshot, and Raynar had some bowmen stand and stretch their bows, and the coastal ship veered away immediately.

  * * * * *

  It was a fast run to Scotland. They rounded the Isle of Fiodra on the third morning and then caught a good tide up the firth to a small natural bay near the fortress of Rosyth.

  There were other ships in the bay, and many rough men were gathered around these, but the men who wandered towards the newcomers seemed to do it out of curiosity. Raynar did not know much about Scotland or Scots and was surprised that the common language in the bay seemed to be Danish. He went ashore with the captain and once on shore they joined the high borne passengers from the large cog.

  The captains went to arrange shore transport for the guests and their belongings, but they were told that they must wait. All transport was already busy with the ships already unloading. They asked after King Malcolm, and were told the same. Malcolm had met the earlier ships and was now accompanying those passengers to Dunfermline palace. Neither Edgar nor Cospatrick liked the rough and violent look of the crews of the other ships, and so they decided to wait with the ships until a message to the palace brought forth an escort.

  Margaret had been irritable and anxious since they had embarked on the ships at Amble. Now she was frustrated beyond reason by the delay. Everyone ignored her when she declared angrily that she would walk to the palace herself with the message. She wrongly assumed that the looming Rosyth fortress was the palace and set off while the earls and the captains were busy with the problems of security and anchorage.

  When Agatha learned what she had done she dropped her cloak and her dignity and ran to the smaller cog, to Raynar, and pleaded with him to go after Margaret and bring her back.

  Raynar was the wrong person to send to persuade her to return to the ship, since they had been separated for some days on different ships. Once he overtook her, instead of returning, they pressed on in a spirit of adventure that was private between just the two of them. At the crossroad of the fortress, some rough-looking Danes told them the truth about the fortress and gave them directions to the palace.

  Halfway to the palace they found some privacy near some large stones carved by the ancients, and used this relative privacy to reacquaint themselves with each other's lips. They had no peace however, because the bridle path was quite busy, so they pressed on to the palace. She introduced herself at the palace as a Princess of the Holy Empire in need of the King's assistance, and was ushered through to a greeting room where the King Malcolm was already entertaining a Prince from Denmark.

  Malcolm watched as the young beauty entered the room, crossed towards him and curtsied. It was as if the Danish prince had ceased to exist. When Malcolm heard that Edgar and Cospatrick had arrived and were waiting at their ships, he began bellowing orders to his men. There was much hustle and bustle as Danish cargo was removed from a dozen carts and the carts sent back down the hill to the bay.

  "Come with me, my dear," Malcolm said gallantly, "and let me show you what quarters I have to offer your family. You will have your choice." He took her arm and made to walk her around the palace grounds. When Raynar moved to follow, the King signaled him not to.

  Margaret's beauty had also attracted the eye of the Danish prince, who immediately struck up a conversation with Raynar to find out more about her. Before long they were swapping news instead. The prince thought that Raynar was yet another exiled English lord, so he talked long and convincingly to him about a venture he was planning.

  He was Prince Canute, a younger son of King Sweyn of Denmark. King Sweyn had been the blood enemy of Harald of Norway and they had fought for control of the northern seas for fifteen years before Raynar had killed Harald at Stamford near York. Norway's loss of its navy in the Humber had been a windfall to Sweyn.

  Denmark was now secure from attacks from the north. This gave Sweyn the first chance in his reign to rebuild the empire of Knut the Great. He meant to take back the control of the lands that Denmark had lost due to the stupidity of Knut's son Harthacnut and his conniving Norman mother. This year Sweyn's navy would visit all those lands and make his claim known.

  Canute had only three ships with him. He was here on a diplomatic mission to discuss Sweyn's plans with Malcolm and to recruit exiled English lords to Sweyn's cause. Meanwhile, his uncle Jarl Osbard had taken almost thr
ee hundred ships south and by now would be raiding Kent and destroying as many Norman ships in the Manche as they could. Sweyn well knew that he must weaken the Normans before he could rebuild Knut's empire.

  "My father is furious with William and the methods he is using to conquer the Danelaw," said Canute. "The Danelaw is not his, and never will be his. It is a part of Denmark and has been since ancient times. If he withdraws now we will allow him to have Wessex. If not, we will allow him only the Valkyries."

  * * * * *

  Canute talked continuously until Margaret and Malcolm returned. The palace was not one building, but many. She had chosen a manor on the southern edge of the palace grounds. Some of the buildings were at one time part of a large and rambling monastery. It was a monastery of the Culdee, an ancient form of Christianity, but the monks were now few in number. Margaret looked distracted and nervous. Raynar moved towards her but she signaled him to be still.

  Malcolm had her arm and pulled her down beside him onto a couch. Malcolm was telling her of his family. "So when my father Duncan was killed by Macbeth, my brother and I had to flee. Earl Siward was always a friend to our family, and after we had grown he brought us back to claim our throne. With Siward's help I killed Macbeth and then his son Lulach, and now my family rules again here in Scotland."

  Raynar had heard many stories about the wild men of Scotland, so Malcolm's look was a bit of a disappointment. He looked English, he sounded English, and he dressed English. He was not as big as a Dane, nor as ungroomed.

  "Raynar," he said, "Margaret has told me that you are sworn to protect her and that you have killed to protect her in the past. In my court you can relax your guard. She and I were betrothed when she was a child, and my men will now protect her."