by Smith, Skye
When Robert of Normandy was announced, Judith gave Raynar a panicked stare but he shrugged back at her and stepped backwards between two rather stout women and out of sight. He nodded to Gertrude so that she knew he would stay in the shadows, but he was as eager to see this Robert as anyone.
Robert of Normandy was, well, short, as his mother was, and as Gerbod of Saint Omer had been. Petite, with a fine, handsome and almost feminine face, with a stately nose. His mother was at least half a foot shorter than five feet. Robert was half a foot shorter than six. He was smartly dressed and made a dashing figure. Raynar's heart went out to him for being born so small into a family that bristled with large brutes.
The Count and Countess of Flanders were especially charming to him. Robert welcomed him as his nephew and asked after Matilda. Gertrude welcomed him as a man from the Paris court and asked after Bertha. No one mentioned Gesa.
Judith did not seem to notice his short stature, perhaps because she spent so much time curtseying to him. There was no mistaking the sparkle in her eyes, however. She wanted to rekindle the love they once had, perhaps for the very reason that he was not as brutish as the rest of his family, or perhaps because he was the Conqueror's heir.
She offered him her arm and then toured him around the court introducing him to everyone she had herself just recently met. When they stumbled accidentally across Raynar, she introduced him as the skillful sea captain who braved the crossing of winter storms to bring her here to safety. Raynar bowed low to keep his face hidden and mumbled in French about how pleased he was that his small efforts had brought them together again.
It was not until they were face to face that Raynar remembered that he had met Robert before, back in '68 in a church in Mercia while he was stalking William. Robert, a boy then, had stumbled under the weight of a saint's coffin during a church procession, and he had stepped in under it to save the thing from falling. He hoped the incident was not strong in the man's memory.
He needn't have worried. Robert hardly noticed the rugged and disheveled sea captain, as he had a good looking woman on his arm, and a dozen well dressed nobles to impress.
When they completed the rounds and Judith brought him again to the count and countess, the young Norman spoke with bravado. "I have come to shield my cousin Judith from an unwanted suitor. I must warn you uncle, that Philippe of France will be sending you an official complaint in his next dispatches for my actions on the way here."
The Count sighed and wondered how he could escape this farce long enough to change into something not encrusted with sea salt. He looked around his court and couldn't help but notice that only he and Raynar were wearing useful clothing.
"You see,” continued Robert, "I stopped at Saint Liz, at the home of the unwanted suitor, and burned his barns and left a warning with his brother that if Simon does not disavow his betrothal to Judith then when I become Duke I will have him and all his family hung.” There were gasps from the audience that encouraged his bravado. "After that I rode to Lens, and put the fear of God into Judith's parents for supporting this betrothal. I am sure that my visit will give them cause to change their minds. But you see, they are both vassals of France, and not of my father, so expect a complaint about me from Paris. My apologies."
"Nephew,” replied the count, "please consider Flanders as your home if you have troubles in Normandy or in Paris. Your cause is just. We do not abide betrothal by rape here in Flanders. We believe strongly in the protection of women and their children.” There were murmurs of strong agreement from around the audience. "We have sworn to the edicts of Cluny, especially those that secure non combatants and travelers, and we have not yet withdrawn the harsh laws against looting and rape that Prince Canute of Denmark demanded of me after he helped me to win the battle of Cassel."
There was loud applause from the audience, especially from the rich merchants and the women, and while the applause slowly died, he shot Raynar an apologetic look. He himself had been a captive at the time that the looting laws were enacted, and it had not been Canute that had demanded the law, but Raynar. After his bowmen had defeated the Frankish cavalry at Cassel, Raynar had ordered his bowmen to protect the vanquished and to shoot looters and rapists.
He remembered the battle of Cassel it as if it were yesterday. Both he and Countess Rachilde had been so foolish as to have been captured by opposing sides. Canute had arranged the trade of Rachilde for him. Once freed, he had ridden through his army to show them that he was leading them again. A strange vision of death was displayed along the main highway where he rode.
Some of his own army had been shot by Raynar’s bowmen for looting the camp of the defeated Frankish cavalry, or for abusing the female camp followers. Five of the rapists had been dressed in women’s clothing, tied to the fence posts along the highway, and with a flick of a knife, turned into women. The gossip was that the gelding was done by a Valkyrie's knife.
However shocking the sight was, the message was strong. When the fortress of Cassel surrendered the next day, there was no looting or raping. That news flew across Flanders and France and because of it, the Flemish civil war had ended more quickly than it had begun, and had ended in a lasting peace. He received hasty petitions from the bishops of the Germanies for him to champion the edicts of Cluny. His vow to the bishops hurried the confirmation of his rule from Rome, without him having to pay the usual tithe.
The Count bowed to his audience, and then begged their permission to withdraw to change out of his sea faring clothes. On his way through the crowd he avoided Gertrude, who would have stopped his leaving, but grabbed Raynar by the shoulder and turned him to come with him. When they were out of earshot of the others the count said "Gesa and that whelp, can you believe it?” His words dripped with jealousy.
"Gesa was ordered by Philippe to keep Robert at his court,” Raynar replied. "She always wanted to be a courtesan. Robert was her first mission.” They ducked through the small door that was the short cut to the stables.
"I was her first mission,” growled the count. "A mission that she set for herself. My God she was a good lay. She knows exactly how to send a man into ecstasy. I suppose I don't need to tell you that."
"I don't mind being reminded of pleasant times,” chuckled Raynar. "She certainly puts her healer's touch to a fine use.” To himself he wondered if a healer who used their touch for sexual pleasure was cheating, and if the cheat would be punished by Freyja. He then wondered how much of the pleasure he gave to women was from his own healer's touch. "I do wonder at her having a child by Robert. With her knowledge of healing and herbs, stopping pregnancies is trivial to her. She must have chosen to have his child."
"Hah, even I can answer that,” replied the count as he motioned to a stable hand to saddle two horses. "She was hoping for a son. The irony of the fates is not lost on our luscious Gesa. King William is her sworn enemy for burning her mother. She wanted a son so that the first born of William's first born had a grandmother whom he burned as a witch."
"If so then she greatly under estimates the selfishness and the evil of Normans. Every one of them beds serf women out of hand and fills them with babies. They do not consider any of the bairn as kin, just more serf babies born to a serf mother to be used and abused for the rest of their lives. I hope she did not believe that either Robert or William would take notice of any child of hers."
"Here,” said the count, "grab a horse. Let's go and drink ale with Hereward. I am up to my neck in shit with Gertrude anyway. I may as well be drunk so I can sleep through the scolding she will give me for leaving her court."
* * * * *
They were sitting at Hereward's table drinking ale before the count remembered the letter. He handed it to Raynar. "It is from Philippe of France. For you."
Raynar turned the pipe over and over. The wax seal was still in place. "It has not yet been opened. Do you not want to read it before you decide to pass it on to me."
"I'll read it over your shoulder. Better yet, just tell me
what it says and leave out all the flowery nonsense."
They were all silent while Raynar read the florid French to himself. "It asks me to come to Paris immediately."
"Does it say why?"
Raynar read it again. "No, but it is signed by Philippe himself, and it is polite, though it sounds urgent.” His heart skipped a beat and he felt a sudden emptiness in the pit of his stomach. "Gesa. Gesa must be in trouble. There can be no other reason. If it were Bertha this letter would be yours."
Hereward stood and looked down at his friend's face. It had gone pale. "I'll have a horse saddled and a pack put together. How many of your crew do you want with you?"
"Four,” Raynar said softly.
* * * * *
With Raynar so quickly gone to Paris, the tension in the palace about he and Robert and Judith was also quickly gone and everyone relaxed, especially Judith.
It was obvious to everyone that the young love between Robert and Judith still lived, and was getting stronger by the day. They stayed together in Beatrice's house, and were often seen strolling together with the children along the canals and through the lush gardens of Brugge. They were so busy making a home for each other that they rarely visited the palace.
Eventually even Klaes deserted his post as guard of house, widow, and children. Or rather, one day when Robert's own men were around the corner in the alehouse, Klaes grabbed Robert with one hand and lifted him off his feet so he could talk to him eye to eye. "I am sworn to protect Judith and her bairn while she is in this house. I now pass that oath on to you. Do you vow that no harm will ever come to them even if it means your own death. Do you swear it."
"Klaes, there is no need for this roughness,” Robert replied trying to keep the fear from his voice, "of course I swear it. I would rather die than have Judith harmed in any way."
Klaes let him down. "Good, but be warned. I have a hundred bowmen who would eagerly make such a vow to Waltheof's widow, and they would never break it. If you break it they will certainly break you."
"Klaes,” Robert said soothingly, "I love her, and with all my heart."
"Then what of Gesa,” Klaes replied, "do you love her too. She has a daughter by you."
"Gesa is just a mistress. I mean to make Judith my wife."
"Just a mistress."
"Just a mistress. A plaything."
The blow to Robert's stomach from Klaes's ham fist doubled him up and stopped him from breathing almost to the point of unconsciousness. Klaes let him slide to the floor and then waited for his breathing to become more normal. "Listen to me you fool. I am Gesa's father. I now want a second vow from you. That you will protect Gesa and Inka and that they will never want for money, nor food, nor care. Swear it and swear it like you mean it."
Robert looked up at the Frisian giant. With all his remaining stamina he could just barely whisper the words. "I so swear it."
Klaes picked the man up and sat him on a bench and poured him some ale. "Here take a drink, but don't cough. If you cough you will feel worse.” He sat on the bench beside him and lowered his voice. "Both of the vows you just made to me have another side to them. You can call on my hundred bowmen to help you to keep these vows. My ships can deliver them any where, at any time. That means that you can count on the support of three wolfpacks and enough bows to send well aimed heavy arrows into any army at a rate of three hundred a minute. Nod if you understand what this means. Right then. I've said enough. You can always contact me through Hereward."
* * * * *
True to his noble Norman self-importance, Robert was not satisfied with living in the modest burgher's town house that Beatrice kept in Brugge, and had begged from the countess the use of the small palace that was usually the residence of the heir to the county. After touring the small palace with Judith, Roas told Hereward that she had her doubts that Judith would ever again be satisfied with her mud brick thatch manor in Huntingdon. Not after living in such a palace.
Beatrice, however, was well pleased with the move, for when the winds finally stilled and she could travel to Brugge to supervise the end of the trading season, she found her town house empty and in good order. After an afternoon in the company of Judith and Robert at court, she returned to her own house and invited Klaes to her bed. Once they were lying naked and spent in each others arms, she whispered to him, "I am so glad to have my house to myself. I mean, I like Judith, but that Robert. He is a strange one. Them as a couple just seems wrong."
"Oh, I don't know. He was pretty down to earth when I had him swear two oaths to me,” and Klaes told her of the oaths to protect Judith and Gesa, and of his promise to help keep those oaths. He had trouble remembering it all because she had began to stroke him intimately again.
"Klaes, sometimes you are as thick as ....ahhh... post, mmmm,” she kissed his cheek and then rubbed her breasts in his face. She looked down at him. "And sometimes you are quite canny."
"And which am I now?” he asked as he entered her and pushed himself deep inside of her.
"The vows were ingenious but right now you are a post. Oh my goodness,” she tried to hold him still while she stared down at him. "You are canny. You are encouraging him to disobey his father. Get Norman killing Norman. Hasn't that been our plan for four years now. Stop wasting English lives. Get Normans killing Normans. I suppose Raynar and Hereward put you up to these vows."
"Well, Hereward did. Raynar left suddenly for Paris to check on Gesa."
"Raynar is in Paris?” Her question stilled his delicious movements. "No don't stop. Oh yes, right there. Keep doing that,” she gasped. There were no more words for a moment while he, at least, reached ecstasy.
Finally, as he stilled, and caught his breath, he told her, "Robert brought a dispatch from the King of France politely requesting that Raynar make a visit to Paris."
"Pity,” she said, "I've never been to Paris. I would have liked to have gone with him."
"And what has Raynar got that I haven't got more of?” He punctuated his question by pushing himself deep inside her.
"Patience,” she whispered to herself and then in a voice he could hear, "Paris."
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Hoodsman - Forest Law by Skye Smith
Chapter 9 - At court of Philippe in Paris in October 1076
"It came terrifyingly close to breaking apart and drowning us all,” replied Raynar.
"That is not what my spies tell me,” stated young King Philippe. He poured the best wine in France into his guest's cup, "They say it was a wondrous ship.” He had been quite surprised that this man had answered his summons to Paris. The man had balls.
"It was a wondrous idea but it did not work as planned. Once we reached the high seas we were committed. There is no separating the two hulls once the waves start twisting them. The forces you would release would stove the sides in. It was the most frightening crossing I have ever made. My crew are brave men, yet some of them were shaking and crying with fear. The main pins splintered and we were lucky to make landfall before they sheared."
"Hmm,” muttered Philippe wondering whether to believe him. He would have to tell this answer to someone who knew ships. "You do realize that I have yet to forgive you and Hereward for stealing all the ships that were captured from the pirates in Montreuil."
"Philippe, I assure you that the taking of those prize ships was according to the law of the sea,” replied Raynar softly, knowing that a king would know such things despite the complaint. "But fair is fair. We have manned them with the best bowmen on the seas and leased them to your fortress at Montreuil for less than it would cost to own them."
"Somehow I still feel that you got the better of me, but I do not understand your merchant style accounting.” The King of France waved the carafe at a maid hovering by the door and she rushed away to fetch another. "Perhaps I should have my dungeon master ask you about this new ship. This strange twosome ship that my spies tell me about. What do you think?"
Raynar was angered by t
he threat, and almost blurted out that it would cause the slitting of every French throat in Montreuil, but he swallowed the words with another gulp of the exquisite wine. "Then you would suffer more than I because Bertha and Gesa would make your life a misery."
Philippe nodded. It was true. They had already bitched at him because he requested a private audience with Raynar as soon as he had arrived, and they had yet to even see him.
"Philippe, you think I have taken advantage of you with the prize ships in Montreuil. I will make you a bargain. I will give you all of my share of them, that was five good cogs, if you become a champion of the edicts of Cluny."
"Bowman, you vex me,” Philippe made to empty his dregs onto the floor but stopped himself just in time to save the costly carpet from the stain. Bertha was right. Men should do their drinking in the stable.
"Is not Cluny in your domain. What would you lose. Think of what you would gain. Ask about it with Robert, the Frisian, rather than your own barons, or worse, the Norman barons. Under the edicts, Flanders trade is increasing every year. His county has an abundance of peace, which is causing an abundance of wealth."
"Robert rules a county of freemen and merchants. No castles to speak of. No robber barons. France is littered with castles, a legacy from my weak father. Every baron controls a section of highway and robs, I mean tolls, the travelers. They make their profit from ransom, from slavery, and from stealing from each other. Feuding is a way of life to them. The most powerful of them is now the King of the English. What chance do I have of championing the Edicts of Cluny when that would impair the earnings of my dukes and barons.” Philippe looked closely at Raynar. "How did you know I was bluffing? About the dungeon I mean?"
"I met your body guard, Fulk, pacing the hallways, but he did not come in with me. My sword was taken at the door, but they left me with an eel filleting knife sharp enough to skin a mule. You don't fear me because you have nothing I want. You know it. Fulk knows it."