by Smith, Skye
In the morning Hereward rode to Burna to consult his half brother, who was lord there. He promised to send young Raynar’s archers to him at Spalding. Once Hereward had left the manor, Raynar rode to Peterburgh to see if there was any news of King William.
The problem was how to get news of William. He could not imagine walking up to the Constable and asking if William was expected. William's army would be moving fast, so asking carters at the local alehouse would not work, as William may be moving faster than the gossip that ran along the highways.
Peterburgh's main square brought back memories, and he wondered if any of the guards would have memories of the mat merchant who put an arrow through the last sheriff. He passed an ale house that catered to the guards and wondered if they would be as talkative as carters.
There was a boot black sitting in the sun waiting for someone to walk along in dirty boots who looked like they had enough coin to pay him to clean them. He sat down beside him and told him that he wanted to play a jest on a friend, and asked to borrow the boot black's kit. The man ignored him. It may not be much but it was the man's only source of coin. After haggling they settled on a price that was about half what the kit was worth, and the man would hold Abby until Raynar returned the kit.
Raynar went around the building and into the Norman alehouse asking if anyone needed oil on their boots. The housekeeper was about to push him along, when a slightly tipsy guard called him over. He began working on the boots and kept his ears open without looking like he understood French. After an hour and a handful of boots, he left the alehouse, gave the kit back, mounted Abby and trotted out of town. The guards were expecting William’s army in two days.
He took Ermine Street north, rather than the side street to Burna. Thorold had described the street well. It went through a very lonely stretch before you reached Colsterworth. He rode back and forth along a stretch that had a dense wood beside the roadbed, and finally chose one of the game trails that seemed to be on higher ground and followed it. It was only Abby's balking that stopped him from getting sucked into a bog.
He dismounted and thought back to what he had been taught by the women of Westerbur Island about picking a path through the fens. In the fens, the difference between low swampy land and dryish land was often less than a foot of height. He squinted his eyes and he could just pick out a path that he could follow on foot, but that a horse may break through. He tied Abby to a bush and walked the path he had picked out.
After about five hundred paces he came to what may have been a Roman dyke in ancient times. It ran parallel to the street and had a game path on top. He went back to Abby and led her carefully to the dyke. He rode the dyke for a mile before he found a bridle path heading towards Burna. He followed it, and got lost repeatedly and had to keep backtracking. It was ten miles to Burna and it was taking him about an hour a mile to pick his way through the treachery of the marshes.
He marked the way as he went, so the next time would be faster. After three miles his way was blocked by a sluggish muddy-looking stream, but the bridle path seemed to continue on the other side so he forded the stream. It was not deep, and not as muddy as he had expected. The last five miles into Burna went quickly on a farmer's cartway. He did not stop at Burna because his men had already been sent on to the Countess's manor. He was muddy and tired by the time he was knocking on the gate of her manor in Spalding.
He spent the next two days with his bowmen and with Thorold who was making the rounds of the river defenses. They met many Fen Frisians that Thorold knew, so it was slow going, but Thorold was in no hurry and he enjoyed the company of Frisians. Especially the women.
The next morning Raynar left Spalding early and alone to ride to Burna, and from there he followed his trail marks back to the dyke near Ermine street. He left Abby tied to a bush with water and grass close by, then followed his marks across the marsh and bog to Ermine street. In the thickest of the woods he made himself a hide, laid out his weapons and waited.
About noon he could hear the army. The first men were trotting by. From his hide he had a clear view of a very short section of the highway. To shoot he would have to step out of the blind. He would get one shot and then he would have to run for it. He would be safe as soon as he reached the muddy path to the dyke because Norman warriors could not follow him through the bog.
As he watched for William, he counted warriors. He had counted just over three thousand when the mounted men thinned out and then the horse carts began. The mounted men took just over an hour to pass. The carts another hour. There was a small rear guard, and then just the sound of the army moving away and the smell of piss. No William, no nobles, just knights and warriors. He waited in the hide another two hours, but there were no more groups of men. Just scattered riders.
He didn't know if he were angry or relieved or both. There was nothing to do but return to Spalding. He reached Burna and found the folk excited and disturbed. King William had ridden along their street with his nobles and escort. The use of Burna's street had allowed William to overtake his army without eating the dust and smelling the shit. The folk of Burna were so thankful that the Normans had not used violence or theft against them, that they had decided to call it King Street from now on.
At the manor in Spalding, Raynar sat quietly and half listened to the gossip and the jests of the other bowmen. The worst part about his watching the wrong street was not the tension or the effort or the frustration. It was not been able to tell anyone. That evening, Thorold came to him with a request. "Beatrice and I have been summoned to Lincoln by the King. Would you and your bowmen be our escort?"
"Because we are expert bowmen?" asked Raynar.
"Because you don't know the river, so you are the least useful men in Spalding for defending it," Thorold replied.
"Why you?" asked Raynar.
"I expect because the new sheriff doesn't know the banks of the Humber from his bung hole," chuckled Thorold.
"Why Beatrice?" he looked over at Beatrice who was sewing under bright candles.
"Perhaps the Queen is with William."
"More likely that he wants Beatrice as a hostage to keep you true to him." Raynar and Beatrice exchanged glances.
Thorold asked that the bowmen leave their farmers' looks and farmers' nags in Spalding. He would loan them clothes and horses more befitting a noble's escort. Anske then attended the men one at a time and trimmed their beards and hair to make them look more like Norman knights. Because Normans wore helmets so much of the time, they kept their hair and beards unusually short.
* * * * *
It was forty miles to Lincoln. A very long and hard day's ride. Anske came along as Beatrice's maid and to care for Lucy. They were all mounted, but with Lucy sharing Anske's saddle. Anske, having been raised helping to breed Frisian horses, was the best rider of them all. She rode with grace and confidence.
Last year, on Westerbur Island, Anske had been one of the island women who Raynar had trained in the bow, and her short Yew bow and a quiver were hung from her saddle. The bowmen of course, had all fallen in love with her over the past four days, and especially since each had felt her soft personal touch as she had cut their hair.
They arrived in Lincoln an hour after sunset, and reported to the constable of the town. The man had been Thorold's constable for a dozen years, so they were welcomed graciously and he told them that Thorold's town house had been prepared for them and he personally escorted them to it.
At the sight of the town house, Raynar began to wonder how wealthy Thorold was. It was like three merchants' houses combined together. The downstairs was secured by gates and bars and served as stables and storage. The living quarters were upstairs and Beatrice was bowed into the great hall by the staff.
William's army was camped to the north of town, but his commanders were all billeted in houses in Lincoln. Thorold, Beatrice, and Anske were given little time to refresh themselves from their ride before a patrol of king's men arrived to escort them to the large ho
use where William was dining.
The king's men refused to allow the guard of bowmen to come, so instead, they stayed at the house and were fed by the serving women, and shown to a room at one end of the house with many beds where they could unroll their sheepskins and cloaks for the night.
Beatrice and Anske arrived back at the house with an escort of the town watch. The women were fall-down tired and simply waved to Raynar as they made their way to their beds. Thorold arrived back at the house nearer to midnight but he found Raynar still awake and watchful.
He knew the lad had stayed awake to hear any news, so he told him, "York is under siege by the Earls, but the new fort is holding out. A thousand of William's men are leaving tomorrow for York by way of Tatecastre." Thorold thought a while. "A thousand may not be enough if the scouting reports were truthful about the size of the Earls' army.
As well, the Danish fleet has arrived in the Humber and has captured the few ships that William had there. They chose the River Trent as a landing place. It was an obvious choice as the Trent leads straight south through the heart of Lincolnshire. The lead ships have put men onto the Isle of Axholme. William will be sending men to Escumetorp to fell trees across the mouth of the Trent to trap them in Axholme.
William will be moving much of his army to Escumetorp, and from there he hopes to push the Danes back to the Humber and back to their ships. He has scouts spread out along the Humber as watchers, because the Danes will surely choose another landing place if they are pushed out of Axholme.
From Escumetorp he can move his reserves quickly west or east along the southern bank. His orders to his commanders are, 'Encourage the Danes to keep trying to land on the south bank of the Humber so they don't press on to York, but don't let them succeed in landing'."
"Did you find out why he needed you?" asked Raynar.
"Tomorrow I go to Selby to float a log chain across the Ouse," replied Thorold. "They have promised me that they will keep the fleet busy at the Trent until my work is done."
"Why you?"
"The log chain was my design, from before I was replaced as Shirereeve." There was pride in Thorold's voice. "The chain of logs stops ships from going further up the Ouse. There will be archer towers on each side to protect the chain from any ships that would try to break it in the center or at either end."
"Where will William be?"
"Watching the Danes," replied Thorold.
"And me?"
"You and your men come with me to Selby," stated Thorold.
Raynar made a quick prayer that the Danes would press on by ship to Selby and that William would follow them. In the confusion of arrows against ships, a stray arrow could easily hit William.
The next morning Beatrice searched out Raynar and told him the rest. "Once William leaves Lincoln, Lucy and I are to move to his large house inside the new walls. I will be, in effect, a hostage to make sure my husband does not help the Danes. Do you understand me, Raynar. If you are caught sabotaging the Normans, my husband's life and my womb will be forfeit."
"If your husband is in danger, do you wish me to save him, or to save you?" asked Raynar.
"Save us both, Raynar, and if you cannot save us, then save Lucy. Take her to Klaes."
Klaes was the Frisian warlord of Westerbur Island, and a good man to have by your side. "Do you wish me to send for Klaes? One of my men could leave now and be at Spalding tonight."
"Klaes would be of no help within Norman camps. He and his Frisians look very much like Sweyn's Danes," sighed Beatrice.
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Hoodsman - Saving Princesses by Skye Smith Copyright 2010-13
Chapter 22 - Building a log boom at Selby, Lincolnshire in August 1069
"The Wyred Sisters have woven our fates in with our enemies," young Raynar told his four bowmen. "For now we must do as the Normans command, and survive long enough for you to rejoin Edgar. You must do nothing to create trouble between Thorold and the Normans."
They were riding along the south bank of the River Ouse past the double bend at Swinefleet and Hook. As they watched, the smallest Karvis of the Danish fleet were exploring the banks. The seamen had shields hoisted along the south facing gunnels in case of arrows. The river was still wide here and the banks marshy.
They had trouble crossing the River Aire at Airemouth, and were forced to detour as far as Snaith to find a ford. Across from the wide marsh land where the Derwent joined it, the Ouse finally became the narrower width of a large river. At Selby there was another narrowing and Raynar wondered if there had once been a Roman bridge across the river at this point.
Memories of his scouting trips along the Ouse and the Derwent during the battle against the Norse in '66 were flooding into his mind, loosened from his memory by the sights and smells along the Ouse. It was near hear in Riccall that the Norse had moored their ships while they attacked York in '66, and while they were slaughtered at Stamford just a week later.
Thorold led them to the narrowest stretch of the river and pointed to the high and crenellated platforms on both sides of the river. He then pointed to a line of logs laid end to end along the southern bank upstream from the towers. "There is our work, men!" Thorold yelled back over his shoulder as he spied the garrison commander and pointed his mount towards him.
The next morning, under Thorold’s orders, all of the men of Selby and of the garrison went and cut thick saplings and brought them to the logs. All of the Breton archers of the garrison then went in small boats to the north bank and scrambled up onto the platform there. They would give cover if the Danes happened along while this work was in progress.
The boats then returned and took half the remaining men and a ship's anchor line over to the north bank. The other end of the heavy line was made firm to the log most upstream on the south bank. With the men on the north bank hauling the line, and the men on the south bank levering the logs with the saplings, the log that was furthest upstream rolled into the river. It was connected by spikes and a short length of chain to the next log, which was then rolled into the water. By hauling and levering and by the grace of the current of the river, finally a long snake of connected logs was making its way across to the north bank.
Thorold was on the north bank giving orders to the foremen who then shouted them to the men. On his orders the men hauling on the line move further upstream so they could hold the snake against the current until the lead log had reached the north bank. Then they planted their feet and inched the now almost straight snake into its position running from one tower to the other across the river.
In a flurry of swinging hammers the lead log was spiked and chained to log pilings driven into the bank, and the log chain was secure. A full-throated cheer rang out from both banks. The River Ouse, the main trade route and highway to York, was blocked by logs, and the pilings that held the logs on each shore were protected by archers.
The last hour of work had been watched by a light Karvi of Danes standing off beyond arrow range. As if the cheer were a signal , the Karvi backed in the current and turned and slid quickly downstream to the Humber.
After the boom was placed, life in Selby became quite boring. Thorold explained to the five of them that this was normal for wars. First there was endless preparation and positioning, where most men just camped and gossiped and practiced their weapons, but that was followed by one, or perhaps two days of the shear terror of the battle. The cleanup afterwards was always horrific.
Their billet in Selby was in a large house overlooking the log boom. It belonged to the merchant that owned most of the warehouses along the bank. The warehouses had long ago been emptied onto trading ships to save the contents from being taken by one or the other of the armies. The warehouses were now being used as longhouses for Breton mercenary crossbowmen, who called themselves arbalesters.
Raynar and his men were careful not to carry their most powerful bows in front of the Breton archers in case it made them memorable. They carried their shorte
r bows instead. Even those caused some comments about the thickness of the wand and the D-shaped cross section.
A week of boredom was interrupted one day, a day like any other, when Thorold sent Raynar to the north bank to inspect the pilings and make sure they were not being undermined by the flow of the river. When Raynar reached the north bank, he stripped naked and slopped around in the mud beneath the boom with the tower's archers jesting at his expense.
The next time Raynar came up from the mud, they were no longer laughing. He hauled himself up the bank wondering if the Danes had finally come, but when he turned around and looked along the boom, William the Bastard was on the other side of the river looking back at him. The wily Thorold had sent him here to get him out of the way because he knew that the king would be inspecting the boom.
He grabbed his clothes and ran upstream where small boats continuously shuttled from shore to shore behind the safety of the boom. He hailed the boatmen as he dressed. The boatmen stood offshore and would not pick him up. "The lord told us to moor in deep water while the King visited," they yelled back to answer Raynar's hail.
That night over the evening meal, the usually boisterous Raynar was silent.
"Stop grumbling Raynar," said Thorold. "William was surrounded by guards at all times. It would have been suicide, not just for you, but for all of us. Well, at least I have the latest news directly from his lips, rather than from army gossip."
Thorold shook Raynar's arm to try to get a reaction. "York is still under siege. With the reinforcements sent from Lincoln, the bailey has been holding out against Cospatrick's army. The Danish fleet has made a camp at the mouth of the Hull river on the north bank of the Humber so they can send out foraging parties to collect supplies." He crossed himself. "Heaven help the villages around the Hull. The local axemen are probably all camped in front of York right now, so their villages will be defenseless."
"So the standoff continues," said Raynar.