The Welsh Marches (The Anarchy 1120-1180 Book 15)

by Hosker, Griff

  “I will, lord, I hope he will be proud that I am a knight now.”

  “How could he be else?”

  Father Henry stopped. He put his arm around my knight’s shoulder, “Thomas, your father fell in the Warlord’s last campaign. He died well.”

  It was a little blunt but I was not certain how else the news could have been broken. Better to know quickly. Rebekah gave Ruth’s hand to me so that I held the hands of both my children. She linked Sir Thomas’ arm. She spoke quietly to him, “I did not know your father Thomas but I am certain that if he is anything like you then he will be with your god. Take comfort.” I saw that he was too upset to respond. He bit his lip and nodded.

  “I will go and speak with the archers. They can tell me more.” He left.

  Brother Peter said, “With your permission, lord, I will go to the church and pray. It has been some time since I have been in a church.”

  “Of course.” He and Father Henry headed to the church where my mother was buried.

  Some of the joy of our homecoming was gone in that instant. Thomas had looked forward to being reunited with his father just as I had and now those hopes were dashed. John of Craven and William, my father’s steward greeted us at the gate, “Lord, this is a joyous day.”

  “Thank you, William. Is my father abroad?”

  “He is in London lord at the coronation of the king. We know not how long he will be away.”

  “Did my father have word of my return from a Varangian, Ralph of Bowness?”

  “No, lord. The news we had was from Sir Leofric in Anjou.”

  I frowned. That was worrying. What had happened to Ralph? He had left months before me. I shook the unwelcome thought away. The world was wide and dangerous. I forced a smile, “We are home and this is my family.”

  My father’s steward nodded, “We saw them from the tower, lord. Alice is preparing quarters for you and John of Craven is making room in the warrior hall. Welcome my lady.”

  I saw that Rebekah was a little overawed by the sights sounds and smells of my castle. This was not Aqua Bella. To me it was familiar, almost comforting, but to her it would appear dank and dirty. The wood smoke smelled different and here there was no pleasant breeze bring the smells of lemons and oranges to waft through the air.

  “Let us get inside and there we shall sit by a fire. That is a true English welcome.” Alf and my men were approaching. I waved him over. “Alf take the men and go with John of Craven. He will make sure that you are comfortable.”

  Alice burst into tears when she saw me. She dropped to her knees and kissed my hand. “Lord this is a day for which I have waited these many years. Your father will be overjoyed.”

  I lifted her up, “Rise Alice, you know you do not have to bow to me. This is my wife and my children.”

  She rose and curtsied to Rebekah, “My lord, what bonnie bairns they are!” She beamed at them, “I am Alice, the housekeeper and the cook has made some sweet cakes that I will fetch for you.” She looked up at me, “Your rooms are prepared, lord. Would you drink first and eat?”

  I nodded, “Aye, Alice. We need something to take the chill from our bones. The river is cold.”

  She walked to the fire and, taking out the poker, came over to the table where there was a jug of ale. She plunged it in and it hissed. Ruth grabbed Rebekah’s arm and Samuel giggled and laughed. “I have some poshote for the bairns although we are running out of nutmeg and cinnamon.”

  “Fear not, Alice, we have brought great quantities.”

  She poured a heated ale for Rebekah and I and hurried off. Rebekah had a bemused expression on her face. “Bairns? Poshote? I know not these words, husband.”

  “Bairns means children and poshote is warmed milk and ale infused with a little honey, nutmeg and cinnamon. The children will enjoy it.” I handed her the ale. “I know this is strange for you but it will become familiar. These are good people.”

  She smiled, “I know that. I hear it in their voices and see it in their eyes. All is well. It has been a long journey.”

  “William, have word sent to my father’s lords that I am returned. I am anxious to speak with them.”

  “Of course. Would you have a feast for them?”

  I hesitated. This was not my castle but I had returned and I was my father’s son. “Of course. We have brought supplies with us. When I have finished the ale then I will see the captain who brought us and pay him off. We have chests of coin which will need to be secured.”

  “We have rooms for that lord. Your father, too, has been successful. The castle has been enlarged.”

  “I saw not William of Kingston.”

  “No lord. Our ships sailed for Anjou just after your father left. We sent goods to be traded.”

  That explained the empty berths. I would give a letter to Michael, the captain who had brought us, so that he could deliver it to Sir Leofric. “These ships will also be sailing south if you wish trade goods sent. The captains can be trusted.”

  “Good, lord, for it has been a mild winter. We kept extra supplies in case we needed them. They should be traded before they go off. I will deal with it.”

  I was heading for the river when the north gate opened and Sir Richard, my father’s captain of archers, rode in. He threw himself from his horse and grabbed me, “Lord! What a joyous day!”

  Dick looked older but, in his eyes, I could still see the same man I had known since a child. He had taught me the bow and the ways of the woods for he had once been an outlaw. He had never married and never changed. My father had knighted him but he had continued as he always had, serving my father. He was as close to a brother as my father had.

  “Aye, Dick, and I am home. I have a wife and family now.” I pointed to the warrior hall, “Thomas son of Oswald is here. I knighted him.”

  Dick gave a sad shake of the head, “That is both sad and a cause for celebration. I had best go and speak with him.”

  “Aye. He is upset and he is speaking with your archers. I have sent for my father’s lords.”

  “That will be good.”

  “Where is Richard, my father’s squire?”

  “He has now been knighted by your father. He is at Barnard Castle. He is visiting with Sir Hugh.” Dick smiled, “I think he is sweet on one of Lady Anne’s sisters.”

  That was good. My father liked his knights to have families.

  “Does he have a new squire?”

  “Aye, James, the surviving son of Sir Edward. He is as dependable as his father was. He will be a sound knight.”

  Later that night, buried beneath blankets and furs to keep out the cold we snuggled. It had been a long day. We had dined with Dick and John of Craven as well as William son of Leofric and Father Henry. It was a meal filled with questions and answers from all sides. I learned of the war and those who had died and the others learned of our time in the Holy Land. I was pleased that Thomas looked to be coping with the news of his father’s death. He had expected to bring great news to his father and, instead, had received the worst.

  “Your father must be a great man for this castle is strong and the people we have met appear as strong and as loyal. Will he like me?”

  “He will adore you.” I was now confident of that. I had seen it in the faces of the men around the table. I had watched as Alice had doted and fussed over my children and I knew that we had made the right decision to come home. “And tomorrow you will meet the rest of my father’s knights and their wives. They, too, will make you welcome.”

  They hastened to our castle with their families the next day. It was a feast, the like of which, I had not experienced for many years. It was truly English. My father’s steward had had a bullock butchered. Aiden had hunted deer the week before, and we enjoyed that. The wine we had brought gave us a taste of my former home and Alice surpassed herself with the boiled pudding that my children devoured with relish. The talk was loud and full of laughter. Even Sir Thomas looked at ease. Alice showed her skills by ensuring that my lords, the
ir ladies and their children, all had rooms. I know not how she managed it but she did. Sir Wulfric, Sir John, Sir Harold, Sir Tristan and Sir Gilles had all managed to get to my hall. The other knights lived further away.

  Samuel was fascinated by them. He had seen knights in Outremer but he had been younger. He was more curious now. I smiled whenever he jumped at Wulfric’s laugh. With his grey beard and expanding girth he was a true force of nature. My daughter, Ruth was a little shier. She was younger but I saw her taking all of it in. She and the other girls and ladies who had come eventually sat around the fire talking with Rebekah. Her deep-set eyes and olive skin were a curiosity. She did not seem to mind and even smiled when Sir Harold’s daughter, Maud, tried to rub the colour from her skin. The knights and squires questioned me long and hard about the Crusade which had ended so disastrously. I, in turn, learned more about the war. Most of the stories were of my father and I felt both proud of his actions and angry with myself for having stayed away so long.

  Despite the drink I awoke early. My father had often told me that a warrior should never ignore his feelings nor his dreams. That night my sleep was interrupted by an unpleasant dream. All that I saw was a spear coming to my wife’s heart. When I woke I saw that she slept, buried beneath a mountain of furs. I did not wish to return to the dream and I rose and, after dressing, walked to the hall. No one was awake and so I poked the fire and then, when it was blazing, used the poker to warm up some of last night’s ale. That done I headed, wrapped in my cloak, to the walls. I had a mind to watch the sunrise.

  It was Franck of Frisia who was on watch. He was now a greybeard but still an awesome man with an axe. He grinned at me as I stepped on to the fighting platform. He had lost teeth in the many battles he had fought for my father and it gave him a comical look, “Just like your father, lord. He, oft times, would come here to watch the dawn.”

  “Aye Franck but I had forgot just how cold it could be here.”

  He shook his head, “This has been a mild winter. They say that north of the wall they have had snow since All Saints’ Day. Our people in the valley have not suffered.”

  ‘Our people’ , my father had melded together many who came from far and wide into one band. Franck came from Frisia but he was as much a part of the land as Alf, the smith, who had been born in Stockton.

  “And now that we have peace they will prosper even more.”

  Sometimes you utter words and it is as though some malevolent spirit, Puck perhaps, had decided to test our mettle. There was a cry from the north gate, “Men approach!”

  I turned and ran. I knew not who was the captain of the night guard but, in my father’s absence, I was lord. By the time I reached Ralph of Nottingham others had gathered and were pointing north to the road which led to the Oxbridge. “What is it, Ralph?”

  “There lord.” He pointed to the huts which were furthest from the castle. I saw two men supporting a third. The light from a hut lit them as the pig farmers who lived there, Peter the Pig and his wife, came to see what the danger was.

  “Open the gate.” Ralph gave me a questioning look. “Peter the Pig would not be aiding them if there was danger, Ralph. It is my command.”

  “Aye lord.”

  By the time I reached the gate Peter the Pig and his wife had escorted the three men to the gate. “Lord, one is perilous hurt.”

  Thank you. Ralph, fetch Father Henry. Bring them in the guard room. Give them blankets.” The man they had carried had a bloody bandage around his thigh and he was not conscious. His two companions laid him on the floor. The light from the fire showed that the two men who had carried the older wounded one were young. “I am Sir William. I am the son of the Warlord.”

  “Lord, we are from Fissebourne. The Scots came two nights since and raided our cattle. My father, Henry, led the men of the village to recapture them. The rest of the men were slain and we barely managed to take my father from the field. When we reached our homes, they were burned and our families had been taken. We came here for it is known that the Earl is feared by the Scots.”

  I nodded, “You are?”

  “Henry, son of Henry and this is my brother Robert. Will my father live?”

  “Father Henry is a good priest and a healer.” Just then Father Henry came in with Brother Peter. “The Scots, Father, two days since...”

  “You may leave him with me lord.” He looked pointedly at the two boys.

  “Ralph take Henry and Robert to the hall. Father Henry needs space.”

  “Come on lads, we have fine food here.” Ralph was an experienced warrior and he shepherded the men out.

  I hurried back to the hall. The commotion had brought my father’s knights out of their chambers. Alf stood there with my sword. “The Scots have been south for a cattle raid. They have devastated Fissebourne. We ride.”

  “But Sir William, we have not brought our retainers.”

  “We have knights enough and I have my father’s archers and men at arms. We will catch them. They are moving cattle and they will be moving slowly.” I took my sword from Alf. “Have Aiden take Edward and Edgar. Tell him to find their trail. I want him to take Masood, my scout, with them.”

  “And our wives?”

  I shrugged, “They can stay here. John of Craven has more than enough men to protect them.” I was suddenly the knight who had led men in the Holy Land. My voice became cold and commanding. “If you do not wish to come then return home with your families.”

  Sir Tristan, with whom I had been a squire said, “That is unfair, William. We did not say we would not come with you.”

  I realised that I had been used to making decisions myself without worrying about the feelings of others. “And I meant no offence. There are women and children who are now slaves. We need to fetch them.”

  As I strode off Sir Wulfric put one of his huge paws around my shoulder. “These are your father’s men, William. You need not ask. They will follow. Sir Tristan is just a little worried about his wife. She is with child.”

  I smiled at the bluff old soldier, “And you never bothered to marry?”

  He laughed, “I have ploughed enough women to know that there is a harvest out there and the bastards are Wulfric’s. I knew not my father and I turned out well. I like living without a woman to order me around. But you have a jewel in Rebekah. I think had I met someone like her when I was younger then I might have changed my mind about marriage.”

  I ran up to my rooms. Rebekah was there with the children. When she saw me going to my chest for my mail she frowned, “War?”

  Shaking my head, I said, “Cattle raiders. They have taken slaves. Here Samuel, you may hold my sword while I dress.”

  “Can I come with you?”

  “When you can ride a palfrey then aye. Until then, I fear you would slow us up.”

  By the time I was dressed and had reached the courtyard my knights, men at arms and archers were gathered. I suspected we would be too large a force for cattle thieves but I wished to make a point. Alf had saddled Alciades. I wondered if it was too soon for he had sailed a long way. I would soon find out. Alf hung my shield from my cantle and asked, “Will we need spears, lord?”

  “Put some on a sumpter and lead it.” The two youths from Fissebourne came over. “You two remain here. We will get your cattle and your families but this is work for warriors.”

  Brother Peter climbed onto his horse. He had a sword strapped to his side, “I can offer aid to our men and death to our foes!” We had a healer and that was good.

  We headed north. It was but thirteen miles to the small collection of houses and farms. Wulfric rode next to me. “If they have headed for Durham then we will have little chance of getting them back.”

  Sir Gilles of Norton shook his head, “I doubt that they would do that. Since the war ended the Bishop of Durham has suddenly found that he always supported the Empress and her son. He does not wish to back the wrong side. Your father managed to breach their walls more than once. They will be heading
for the New Castle. They have rebuilt the bridge which was destroyed. We have time to catch them.”

  I nodded. Aiden and his two scouts could find the trail of a butterfly in summer. I turned to look behind me. I had the eleven men I had brought from the Holy Land but I also had thirteen archers under Dick and twelve men at arms from the garrison. With seven knights and squires we would be a formidable force.

  “Have they a castle on the south side of the river by the New Castle?”

  Sir Harold of Hartburn shook his head, “They fortified the bridgehead. It is wooden. The castle is made of stone and they have a stone gate at the other end of the bridge.”

  “Cattle take some shifting and they have slaves. They will not reach the New Castle.” Sir Wulfric had done this before. We passed Thorpe which now had a fortified wall around it. We had lost a family from there to the Scots. As we passed Segges Field I remembered the battle my father had fought there and bloodied the noses of the Scots.

  I saw the blackened houses of Fissebourne on the valley bottom. Garmondsway Moor stretched north and west. They would not have taken that route. It was too high and the road too steep. They had even destroyed the mill, just half a mile from the main settlements. Around the hillside were the burned farms. This had been more than just a cattle raid. When we drew nearer to Fissebourne I saw Edward and Edgar moving around the burned-out huts. They had shovels.

  We reined in, “Where are Masood and Aiden?”

  “They followed the trail north, lord.” Edward picked up a piece of cow dung. “They only left yesterday, lord.” He shrugged, “Perhaps they thought they had left no survivors to give warning. Aiden told us to bury their dead.” He pointed to some bodies covered with cloaks. I saw bare legs sticking out from them. “The men were butchered and had their manhoods taken but there was an old woman and a girl of fifteen too.” He shook his head. I knew what their fate had been.

  Brother Peter dismounted, “I will say words over their bodies and see they are buried in a Christian fashion.”

  “Thank you, Brother Peter,” I turned in the saddle, “John of Chester, you and my men help Edward and Edgar. You can catch us up.”