The Welsh Marches
Book 14
in the
Anarchy Series
By
Griff Hosker
Published by Sword Books Ltd 2017
Copyright © Griff Hosker First Edition
The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
Thanks to Simon Walpole for the Artwork and Design for Writers for the cover and logo. Thanks to Dave, Kent and Julie, three of my New Zealand readers, for giving me such an enjoyable time in the Antipodes.
Book list
Ancient History
The Sword of Cartimandua Series (Germania and Britannia 50A.D. – 128 A.D.)
Ulpius Felix- Roman Warrior (prequel)
Book 1 The Sword of Cartimandua
Book 2 The Horse Warriors
Book 3 Invasion Caledonia
Book 4 Roman Retreat
Book 5 Revolt of the Red Witch
Book 6 Druid’s Gold
Book 7 Trajan’s Hunters
Book 8 The Last Frontier
Book 9 Hero of Rome
Book 10 Roman Hawk
Book 11 Roman Treachery
Book 12 Roman Wall
The Aelfraed Series (Britain and Byzantium 1050 A.D. - 1085 A.D.
Book 1 Housecarl
Book 2 Outlaw
Book 3 Varangian
The Wolf Warrior series (Britain in the late 6th Century)
Book 1 Saxon Dawn
Book 2 Saxon Revenge
Book 3 Saxon England
Book 4 Saxon Blood
Book 5 Saxon Slayer
Book 6 Saxon Slaughter
Book 7 Saxon Bane
Book 8 Saxon Fall: Rise of the Warlord
Book 9 Saxon Throne
The Dragon Heart Series
Book 1 Viking Slave
Book 2 Viking Warrior
Book 3 Viking Jarl
Book 4 Viking Kingdom
Book 5 Viking Wolf
Book 6 Viking War
Book 7 Viking Sword
Book 8 Viking Wrath
Book 9 Viking Raid
Book 10 Viking Legend
Book 11 Viking Vengeance
Book 12 Viking Dragon
Book 13 Viking Treasure
Book 14 Viking Enemy
Book 15 Viking Witch
Bool 16 Viking Blood
Book 17 Viking Weregeld
The Norman Genesis Series
Rolf
Horseman
The Battle for a Home
Revenge of the Franks
The Land of the Northmen
Ragnvald Hrolfsson
The Anarchy Series England 1120-1180
English Knight
Knight of the Empress
Northern Knight
Baron of the North
Earl
King Henry’s Champion
The King is Dead
Warlord of the North
Enemy at the Gate
Warlord's War
Kingmaker
Henry II
Crusader
The Welsh Marches
Modern History
The Napoleonic Horseman Series
Book 1 Chasseur a Cheval
Book 2 Napoleon’s Guard
Book 3 British Light Dragoon
Book 4 Soldier Spy
Book 5 1808: The Road to Corunna
Waterloo
The Lucky Jack American Civil War series
Rebel Raiders
Confederate Rangers
The Road to Gettysburg
The British Ace Series
1914
1915 Fokker Scourge
1916 Angels over the Somme
1917 Eagles Fall
1918 We will remember them
From Arctic Snow to Desert Sand
Combined Operations series 1940-1945
Commando
Raider
Behind Enemy Lines
Dieppe
Toehold in Europe
Sword Beach
Breakout
The Battle for Antwerp
King Tiger
Beyond the Rhine
Other Books
Carnage at Cannes (a thriller)
Great Granny’s Ghost (Aimed at 9-14-year-old young people)
Adventure at 63-Backpacking to Istanbul
Dedicated to Ron Ringrose and the Essex wargamers, John, Mike and Gary. Thanks for the excellent wargame!
Part One
William of Aqua Bella
Prologue
October 1154 off the coast of Italy
For me the journey was necessary. I was going home. I would seek the forgiveness my father and I would try to serve my king. I had followed the banner of Henry and his father, Geoffrey of Anjou when they had fought to regain the throne. Now it was his. I had not been there when he had succeeded. Perhaps I needed his forgiveness too. I had atoned for my carnal sins and now, with a new wife and two children, I was heading home. For my wife, Rebekah this was a journey to another world, quite literally. Her close family had all been slaughtered by an evil knight and she had chosen to come, as my wife, half way around the world. The journey had already been fraught. We had had storms and we had had to repair our ships. With four ships, it was inevitable that one or another would require some maintenance on such a long voyage.
For my young son, Samuel and my daughter, Ruth, it was all an adventure. My four-year-old son thought that the ship in which we sailed, ‘Maid of Chinon’ , was a playground for him. My men and the crew did nothing to help. They liked the lad and encouraged him. His mother could not bear to look as he careered along the pitching deck of the wooden ship. Even my heart was in my mouth but, surprisingly, he came to no harm. I should not have worried, he came to no harm. My men and the crew watched him as closely as a she-wolf watches her cubs
Although I had sent a spoken message to my father with Ralph of Bowness, I had also sent a letter to Sir Leofric. An Angevin knight had been returning home and I gave him the letter. It was a long way between the Holy Land and England. I wanted my father to know we were coming. I had left suddenly and I wanted to give him time to adjust to my return.
Once I had decided to return we had to seek ships and then pack all that we needed for a new life. My wife had many objects which were dear to her. They reminded her of her dead family. Many were precious and delicate items. It took time to gather and then safely pack all that we had needed to take for a new life in a new country. Each box we packed and each item we selected was a reminder to my wife that she was leaving the home she had known for her whole life and heading for somewhere as different as it was possible to get. Rebekah was fearful of the change.
The first part of the journey was familiar to Rebekah in that we sailed in the waters of the eastern Mediterranean. For the first week or so her land was visible off the steerboard side and then we headed through the islands of the Byzantine Empire and we lost sight of Asia. She brightened a little then for they were new sights but the land was not totally different from her home. Soon it would be. When we had stopped for a week in Constantinople it was almost
like a holiday. We had not intended to visit the capital of the Byzantine Empire but one of the smaller ships needed repairs. I was not willing to split up my little fleet and so we spent a week spending money in the markets of the greatest city in the world. My name was known there and we were treated well. When we left we would sail along the coast of the Lombards and the Franks. Our captain, Michael, assured me that it was the safest route. Pirates infested the southern waters. The Empire’s power had waned in recent years and the Moors terrorised all Christians who used the southern sea. For myself, I was not so certain. I had enemies there. Although we would not be landing, I felt it was a dangerous thing to do.
I was right.
Chapter 1
Masood was my scout. When his family had been slaughtered, along with that of my wife, he had chosen to come along with us. He had lived far from the sea in the high dry lands of Outremer. He had lived in a land without water and with constant heat. The further north we went the more fascinated he became with all that he saw. He marvelled and wondered at the green he saw. To the men who came from England the land seemed almost brittle dry but Masood was keen to get ashore and see what kind of game teemed in the woods. We had to tell him that he could not leave the ship to hunt.
“Lord, will there be woods in England?”
I laughed and pointed at the trees we could see on the slopes of the mountains to the north of us. “They are woods but close by my father’s estates are forests. You can travel for days through them and not see a road or a person.”
“Truly?” I nodded. “Then I would like to wander that land.” He pointed north. “What is that land, lord?”
“It is Lombardy. The next port we visit is Genoa. They are great sailors. Their ships fly the red cross on the white background.”
“Will it take us long to get to his home?”
“Almost as long as it has taken us to get here.”
“Then I will have to learn to use my legs again.” He had discovered that the longer he spent on the water the more time it took him to walk on dry land. “Alciades and Remus will enjoy solid ground beneath their hooves.”
“As will we all. We are coming to the end of our journey now. This will be the last stop before we sail into the deep and wild seas which border Normandy and England. This sea is a flat calm by comparison.”
“I have seen wonders, lord, it is true. I thought I would miss my home but so far, I have not. There is much to see.”
Samuel ran over to us. Robin Hawkeye, one of my archers, was watching over him. It was harder than fighting Seljuq Turks. Robin shook his head, “Lord, trying to watch your son is like trying to hold on to a ball of frog spawn!”
“Samuel! What have I told you about running on the ship?”
“I am sorry, father, but I will not fall.”
“Come stay with me. Robin, I will watch him now. You and Masood go and check on the horses. We will be in port this evening.”
“Aye lord!” Relieved Robin led Masood off.
I took Samuel’s hand. I had found it the best way to ensure he did not run. He was growing. He was four years old but Henri of Chinon, the captain of our ship and a grandfather, told me that my son was as big as a seven-year-old. I put that down to his mother’s food. She insisted on preparing all the food for our children and her women. It was another reason we were stopping. She needed fresh supplies. Had it just been my men then we would have been home already. The captain did not mind as it allowed him to trade each time we landed.
I pointed astern to the other three ships. They were all smaller than the ‘Maid of Chinon’ . “You see those ships astern of us?” He nodded. “They contain all of our treasure, our arms and our men. When we get to England you will need to learn to behave as the grandson of a great lord.”
“Are you not a great lord, father? Mother said that even the King of Jerusalem admired you.”
“The King of Jerusalem is a good man but England and Normandy are many times the size of Jerusalem and your grandfather rules a land which is far bigger than Jerusalem.”
“Mother has never met him, has she, Father?”
“No, this will be her first time in England. He will like her.” That much I knew was true. The Earl of Cleveland was the fairest man in Christendom. Family to him was all. He had dedicated his life to restoring the Empress Matilda and her son Henry to the English throne. He had done that. Even as we were sailing homeward Henry could have been crowned.
“And will he like me?”
“Of course. You are of his blood. I am of his blood and you should always remember that Samuel. You are descended from warriors who protected England for hundreds of years. You were born in the Holy Land but your blood and your land is England. I forgot that for a while but I see it now.”
A seaman knuckled his head, “Lord, the captain says we are ready to head in to Genoa.”
“Thank you. Come Samuel. We will find your mother. She will need to make you presentable. When we walk the streets of Genoa she would have all know that you are the son of a lord.” Rebekah, for some reason, had taken it into her head that, as a Jewess she would be somehow scorned by what she termed, the Gentiles. I did not know what she meant but she was a proud woman. Her experiences with Franks had not been good. The knight who had abused her was now the food for jackals. “How is your Greek coming along?”
“Alf is a good teacher father but I find it boring.”
“The more languages you can speak the better. Knowing a man’s words gives you power.”
“Alf is not Greek, though is he?”
“No, he is half English but he was brought up in the Empire. He, too, has never seen England.”
For more than half of my household England was a foreign county perched on the edge of the world. The women who had chosen to come with my wife and her servants all thought that the real world centred on Jerusalem. One advantage of our long journey was that they could all now speak English and Norman. Their darker skin would mark them as foreigners but not their words.
Genoa was busy. Ships travelling to the Holy Land called there to fit out. Men who wished to join the crusades came there from all over the former Empire to seek ships. My men and I would go armed. Our surcoats, with the gryphon upon them, identified my men as the retinue of a lord. Outside of the Holy Land it was not known but soon it would. I strapped on my sword and took a purse with me. Stepping ashore I waited for my men to come from the other ships. I had spread out my men amongst the ships. If any of the ships was attacked then my men would defend the ship. I had seven archers and six men at arms. With Sir Thomas and our two squires I had sixteen men to command. For many knights that was not enough but my men had been honed and hardened in the Holy Land. I would back them against three times their number.
“Brother Peter, Henri, Guy and Phillippe, go with my wife and her ladies to buy the things they need.”
The priest would ensure that they were treated well and my three men were all Franks. They knew their way around a Lombard market.
“Aye lord.”
“The rest of you come with me. Let us see if there are any warriors returned from the Holy Land who would like to serve a new lord.”
I had come back from my atonement rich. Many men did the same. Although I had given Aqua Bella to the Hospitallers I had had many years profiting from the oil it produced. I had also been successful and taken both ransom and gold from those I had defeated. I would need good men in England. They would be worth the gold it would cost to fit them out. It was men at arms I sought. The quayside was busy. There were peddlers and hawkers who sought to sell me goods which I could buy in the markets for half the price. My squire, archers and men at arms deterred them. Alf, my squire, had also grown since he had joined me. He was now bigger than I was. That was not a surprise. His father, Morgan, had been a Varangian, and his mother, a Pecheng, was of a tribe who were known for their strength.
Once through the maelstrom of the quay we entered the narrower streets which led to the
markets and taverns. Some of my men were looking forward to those for the last drink they had had was in Amalfi and that was ten days since. I knew that Henry son of Will would be desperate for a drink. I warned him as we passed our first tavern, “First, Henry, son of Will, we find our men and then you can drink and welcome.”
“Aye lord.”
“And in moderation!”
“Aye lord.”
John of Chester laughed at the tone. “John, I rely on you and Gurth son of Garth to make sure we get the right men.”
“You can depend upon us, lord. We do not want to share a warrior hall with men we do not trust. It is bad enough suffering Henry here.”
My men all laughed. Henry had a reputation for getting into trouble but when there was a battle to be fought then all of them would choose to stand with him for in battle he was steadfast and true. He reminded me of Wulfric, one of my father’s most loyal knights. Both were big men who seemed out of place amongst gentle things but give them something to defend and they were both like rocks. We passed through the busy market. My wife and her ladies would be following. I saw men seated outside the taverns. Some would be heading east while others would be looking for new masters. Genoa was a crossroads. I spied a tavern close by and it was not as busy as the others. That meant it would be more expensive. It was a price worth paying for my men would all be seated and we could view the other taverns.
I ordered a pichet of wine for Sir Thomas and our squires. I asked for ale for the men. As in Amalfi they would be disappointed in the quality. “Remember Henry, this is one drink which you nurse and coddle as though it was your last. When we have our men then you can have another couple.”
“A couple, lord? A man like me has a need for ale. It feeds me.”
John of Chester tapped Henry’s belly, “We have not fought for some time, my friend. I think you are feeding a child in there!”
The wine was the rose coloured one they favoured in Lombardy. It was chilled. When I returned to England the only wine available would be the wine from my father’s estate in Anjou. After John and Gurth had finished half of their ale I nodded and they wandered off. They would have seen the men they thought likely candidates. They were the ones with the tanned skin and hardened muscles. They were the ones with the heavy swords and eastern dress. It would be only when they spoke that you knew their original country.
The Welsh Marches (The Anarchy 1120-1180 Book 15) Page 1