Hoodsman: Saving Princesses

by Smith, Skye

  Gregos smacked his lips to catch all the juice from the fruit. "Raynar, you have stolen the joy from this gift. You, lads, take this barrel to the convent, the one that runs the hospital up the lane, and watch them to make sure that each patient eats an orange before any of the nuns do."

  "I would love to sleep," yawned Raynar, "unfortunately I am more likely to dream of my times with Hereward, than of my wonderful times with Margaret."

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

  Chapter 20 - With Sheriff Thorold in Spalding, Lincolnshire in July 1069

  The old face peered out again and looked at him, and then smiled a toothy grin. The bolt on the small door in the gate rattled and the door opened. Young Raynar led Abby through it and immediately the door slammed shut behind him. The old man led the way to the stable.

  "Oye," the old man said, " throw your cloak over that line, and I will bring you a dry one to wear. You can make yourself comfy in the straw over there, or you can go and beg some bread from the kitchen, but I can't open the house for you without the Countess's say so."

  The man trundled away and was back shortly with a moth-eaten cloak. It may have had fleas, but Raynar was beyond caring. He sat on a milking stool and tried to get warm. The old man shrugged and soon returned with warm bread and warmed ale from the kitchen.

  "You can't see Beatrice looking like that," said a soft but firm voice from the stable door, a woman's voice. "Come with me and let's get you cleaned up."

  He stood and walked towards her and recognized the lithe and lovely Anske from Westerbur Island. He had forgotten how heart-stoppingly beautiful the Frisian women were. She refused his hug and instead wrinkled her nose at him. She led him to a roofless hut which turned out to be the bath house.

  There was a rain barrel with a bucket floating in it, and a cake of soap and she told him to strip and scrub down while she found him some dry clothes. He heard footsteps returning and without bothering to cover himself, he turned to face her wearing a big smile and a big something else.

  "My, my. Is that for me?" said the very jolly and very large cook who was standing before him with a long tunic over her arm. He tried to grab some linen to cover himself, but the cook was faster and grabbed the linen away. "Don't be shy ducky, you've got one to be proud of."

  The cook began a roaring laugh, and he could hear Anske's laughter now, from outside the hut. He tried to reach for the tunic, but the cook put it behind her back and he fell into her. "Let me dry you off then," she said and began gently rubbing his crotch with the linen. "Oooh, Anske, come see this," and she held it firm in her hand so that he could not shy away. By this time her breasts were heaving with laughter and her face had become vibrant and childlike, except for her eyes. Those had a saucy twinkle to them.

  Anske had to see the fun, so she walked in. "Oh my, you have got him excited, haven't you? Go on. Take him. I'll hold him down if you want." And then she too caught the infection of laugher from the cook, and she walked to him and kissed him on his flushing cheeks. The cook kissed him on the other side, but kept tight hold of him while she dried his bum and his thighs.

  Once the laughter quieted, Anske tried to pull the cook away, but it took a lot to move such a large woman who was so intent on other things. "Come on, we've had our fun. Let him dress before Beatrice returns.” The cook grabbed Raynar’s dirty clothing and left, and afterwards he could hear her ordering one of the kitchen girls to take them to the stream and wash them.

  Now feeling very modest even in front of Anske, who had seen him naked many times on at her island village, he pulled the long tunic down to cover himself.

  "Hello Raynar," came yet another woman's voice from the doorway.

  He spun around to see who. "Hello, Countess."

  "Beatrice," she insisted.

  "Beatrice," he complied.

  "I see Anske has been teasing you," she said pointing to the tent in the tunic. She took his arm and they walked out of the bath hut, passed the kitchen doorway where the cook was still chuckling, and into the great hall. Anske followed respectfully.

  "Is Hereward here?"

  "He is with my husband preparing defenses on the river. Half the ships of the Wash have come up the river for protection from the Danish fleet," she said.

  "And the Frisians?"

  "Their ships are in the river too. The men are with my husband and Hereward. The women are all back at their island, except for this one." She nodded at Anske. "She has turned down two perfectly good proposals, and if she turns down another I will send her packing."

  "That is not fair, mam," Anske spoke up for herself. "Those two men were far better matches for other girls, and so they have proven. Can I help it if I am always the first choice of the men."

  The corners of Beatrice's mouth curled as she saw that he was still walking with a tent. "So what have you been doing that you come to us smelling of sheep dung and offal."

  "I've been riding here from Scotland for almost a fortnight, sleeping out most nights. I have a message for Hereward from Earl Edgar."

  "Hereward should be here soon. Anske, please bring us a jug of wine."

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  He was snoozing but was shaken awake and he instinctively rolled away from the touch. He looked up and stared into the stern face of an older man. "I am Thorold, Beatrice's husband. Hereward will join me tonight. If you need him sooner I will send for him now."

  "You are the Shirereeve of Lincolnshire?"

  "No longer. I have been replaced by a know nothing young Norman. Now I am just another Danelaw land lord on borrowed time," replied Thorold.

  "Then I can tell you that there is a Danish fleet bound for the Humber and then to York. I doubt they will have more than a passing interest in the Wash," said Raynar.

  "You will forgive me if I don't dismiss the shore watch just yet. Raiders of any blood tend to take whatever is not defended. And you are wrong in thinking they are for York. The Humber yes, but they are leaving York for the English Earls and the Yorkshiremen. They told me yesterday that they will take the Humber and then turn south towards Lincoln and Nottingham in order to cut the kingdom in two."

  "Then they have landed. Was there fighting?"

  "If they had landed as raiders we would have blocked their landing, but they came looking for allies and provisions. They got promises for the first and a lot of the other," said Thorold.

  "Then they will use the Wash rather than the Humber?"

  "The Wash is treacherous in storms. The Humber will give them safe anchorage even in winter," replied Thorold.

  Raynar spent the rest of the day with Beatrice and her husband swapping news and gossip. She told him that it had been peaceful around Spalding and Burna since the death of the sheriff of Peterburgh. Thorold was serving as acting Reeve there at the request of the abbot. Still an English abbot, still the one who was Hereward's uncle.

  Thorold told him that William had stayed in Lincolnshire some months and he himself had been a guest of the King. Thorold had shown William his old plans for closing the River Ouse at Selby using a boom of logs chained together, and William was impressed enough to have him work with the Norman masons to rebuild the old Roman wall around Lincoln. It had risen tall in an impressively short time.

  "The worst evil that William has done to Lincolnshire is the replacement of the churchmen. Not that I care if there is an English or a Norman priest at the alter, but the alters are no longer there. The priests sent the alter treasure to William under the guise of saving them from the Danish fleet." Thorold winced as he got his game knee comfortable. "Not that they are wrong. Danish raiders tend to rob the churches first."

  Hereward arrived before dark, and he embarrassed Raynar with his hugs of welcome. Again Raynar told his news.

  "So do you join the Danes or the Earls?" Hereward asked when Raynar had finished.

  "I am finished with joining armies. No good ever comes by them. T
hey are formed for the purposes of destruction, and destruction follows them even when they are not in battle." Beatrice voiced her agreement and then he continued. "Even paying for them is destructive because that coin is not used for better purposes."

  Beatrice agreed again and added, "You need only open your eyes and look around to see the truth of your words. The Danes and the Normans will tear at England, and at each other, like two wolves after the same carcass."

  Raynar spoke quietly, "And you Hereward. Do you join the Danes? They need horses and they need archers and they need scouts."

  Thorold grumbled, "Hard to join them unless they make a good landing on the south shore of the Humber."

  "I am still Edwin's man. I must go to him before I make a decision," answered Hereward. "If he is not committed then I will return here and help Thorold defend the local folk."

  "Is Edwin not still with William?"

  "No," Hereward replied, "his brother Morcar fetched him, and they were allowed to go home to their own estates. Edwin has more than a few and it will take some time for me to find the right one."

  "I am not just finished with armies, I am finished with nobles too," Raynar announced. "I have found English nobles to be more like Norman nobles than they are like English freemen. From now on I will help the freemen, directly."

  Raynar saw Thorold about to speak and he expected to be shown the door. He had just insulted his host, a man who was a powerful noble. Once a virtual prince here in Lincolnshire.

  Instead Thorold said, "You have discovered what I wish more young men would discover. Promises of wealth are the worst reason to follow a leader. A man who must buy loyalty is no leader.

  While I was William's ah... guest ... in Lincoln, I learned of his greatest problem." Thorold spoke softly and carefully. "He has a shortage of men. He has a shortage of Norman warriors in England. His mercenaries from Flanders want to leave him because the new Count of Flanders needs protection from both France and Normandy. William has a shortage of warriors in Normandy, because so many have left to join the Normans who are invading the Italies. He has a shortage of farmers in Wessex and southern Mercia, because of his knights' brutal reprisals against any rebellion.

  A shortage of men means that the amount of land being planted, and the amount of animals being bred, on both sides of the Manche, is dropping each year. That means that tax collections are dropping. If it weren't for the earnings from raiding English churches and manors, William would not be able to pay his men here, or in Normandy."

  "Are you saying that William can no longer hold England?" asked Hereward.

  "I am saying that he cannot afford to lose more men. I was with him when he first heard of the slaughter of Robert de Comyn and his men in Dun Holm. Seven hundred warriors gone. It was a big blow to his army and to his plans, because that was a tenth of all the warriors he has brought to England. He can't easily replace them. Not now.

  And now Sweyn's Danes have arrived in the North. Perhaps as many as three hundred ships. Certainly more than two thousand warriors from the boats, and a promise of help from Scotland and Northumbria, perhaps another two thousand, and then the rising of the axemen of the Danelaw. William is facing his first true threat to his crown since it was placed on his head."

  Thorold was of Danish blood as were most English lords, especially in the North, so it was no surprise that he seemed to side more with King Sweyn than King William. They were all offered more ale by Beatrice, and they stopped talking while she poured.

  "The Danish fleet has been raiding the Norman shipping and the Norman ports on the south coast, so William has split his army in three. A third is in York waiting, a third in Kent repelling Sweyn's fleet, and he is with the third that are protecting London until Sweyn's fleet moves further north.

  Since Sweyn's ships are moving across the Wash, then William's third should be passing here soon. They must keep the Danes from landing on the south bank of the Humber."

  "Why?" asked Raynar.

  "If the fleet controls the south bank, then it will control the Humber and all of its rivers. They can take ships north on the Ouse, west on the Wharfe, or south on the Trent. With control of the south bank, the rivers are their supply routes. Their ships can move their army just as well as William's horses move his army. William will have to leave Lincolnshire and Nottinghamshire to the Danes."

  Beatrice had been born to politics and she was quick-witted. She had no trouble following her husband's words. "I find it ironic that William now faces the same dilemma as did Harold Godwinson in '66. Harold’s army was split three ways between Kent, London, and York."

  "I wonder how much damage the Danish fleet did to the Norman shipping on the Manche?" wondered Thorold, "William still needs them as a lifeline to Normandy. How can he bring in more men without ships?"

  "I hope they sunk them all," replied Raynar. "Especially the horse carriers. My own wish is that the all the nobles and their professional warriors slaughter each other, so that the folk can go back to farming, without being fleeced to pay for it all."

  "I agree with you, lad," replied Thorold. "That would be the best of all outcomes. Without the armies tromping around, the kingdom will become peaceful again, and wealthy again, and the rule of law will return."

  Hereward had been careful not to cross Thorold with his words but he could not help but say, "Denmark has a better claim on the Danelaw than Normandy has on Wessex. By ancient treaty, the king of the English would pay a yearly treasure tribute, the Danegeld, the King of the Danes so that the Danes would keep the peace"

  "Do not even speak of the Danegeld," replied Thorold, "Now that William's priests have sent him all of the church treasures of Lincolnshire, William has the gold to pay one, yet again."

  "You mean, keep the ancient treaty and pay the Danes to go away?" asked Hereward.

  Raynar interrupted, "You say that William may pass by here on his way to the Humber?"

  "I did, and I do," said Thorold.

  "How would I get forewarning of that?"

  "Ah, of course, you were outlawed in Nottinghamshire. Don't want to get too close eh?" Thorold chuckled. "William usually moves on Roman streets. That means he will be to the west of us on Ermine Street through Huntingdon, Peterburgh, Colsterworth, and up to Lincoln. If instead he is following the coast he will come through here and then up through Skirbeck and into the Lindsey."

  "Burna is not on Ermine Street?" asked Raynar.

  "Burna's street is not the main highway and it floods in wet weather," replied Hereward. "Colsterworth is on Ermine Street. It is only ten miles west of Burna but there is no easy way between the two."

  "That is a lonely stretch of Ermine Street south of Colsterworth," added Thorold. "All bogs and forest and dense bush with few fields and no villages."

  The last time that Raynar had visited this manor it had been crowded with men. Now it was near empty. Beatrice told him that it was the way with manors and longhouses. In the winter they were crowded with the folk keeping warm. During the rest of the year there were unused because the folk lived in huts closer to their fields and crops and animals. Unless travelers need a resting place, manors and longhouses were mostly empty.

  Raynar asked if there would be room for four well-behaved archers oathed to Edgar. The countess held her tongue and allowed her husband bid them welcome.

  "Oh, and Hereward," Raynar put his left hand on the table so all could see it. "This ring was given to me by Margaret in Scotland just before she was married to Malcolm. Well, at least the signet is hers, but we replace the gold band with one of bog iron. She told me that I must tell you that I had it. Are you writing to her or something?"

  Hereward stared at the ring and said nothing. Beatrice stared at the ring and said nothing. Then they stared at each other in wonder. Of course, neither Raynar nor Margaret had gone to Peterburgh Abbey on that day when Edgar and Edwin delivered the treasury of the old English army into the safekeeping of the Abbey's vaults. Did Raynar know what Margaret had giv
en to him? Hereward and Beatrice both knew where the other signet ring was hidden out by the ancient weeping willow at the end of the water meadow. A person with both rings could claim the treasure from the Abbey.

  "Why did she give it to you?" asked Beatrice, keeping her voice as calm as she could.

  "As a keepsake. I don't know,” whispered Raynar. "Perhaps so that she knew that a letter was from me without me having to identify myself, in case Malcolm was spying on her. I don't know. But I have never taken it off since I put it on. I will wear it always."

  That night there was only Hereward to share the large guest room with Raynar and so they talked and planned throughout the night. Hereward knew that Raynar was still hunting William, and he would help him in any way he could. Just before they slept he said, "At this time, Raynar, the best chance for a good future for the freemen of England is for one of them to kill William. The need for armies and the threat of serfdom will die with William."

  As he watched the lad finally close his eyes and slump into sleep, he looked over at the bog iron ring. Was it too dangerous to leave the ring with the lad if he was going off on a quest that he would likely not survive. As a knight of the Abbey, he had been present and had seen the worth of treasure as it was stored in the vault. With it you could buy an army. Should he tell the lad. How else would he convince the lad to keep the ring safe.

  He moved the candle nearer to the ring. It was an ugly thing and yet it was worth a kingdom. Just a seaman's wedding band with a signet soldered onto it, and it was on the hand of a peasant who would defend it with his life, not because of treasure, but because of love. He almost cursed the fates, but thought better of it, and cursed King William instead.

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

  Chapter 21 - Ambushing a King on Ermine Street, Lincolnshire in July 1069