by Smith, Skye
"Gesa keeps me amused with stories about you. Kill William the Conqueror for me and I will give you a county."
"I like my bargain better. Ships for Cluny. I'll kill William whether you want me to or not."
"William is attacking Bretagne again,” Philippe told him. "You helped Ralph the Earl of Norfolk escape him and get back to Bretagne with all his men. They are now under siege at Dol. Help me to defeat William at Dol. It would avenge Waltheof."
"Canute helped Ralph, and was paid for it,” replied Raynar, in wonder at the quality of the information this king was fed by his spies.
"Canute's ships, your idea,” corrected Philippe.
"Let me think about it. Do you have good maps of Normandy and France and Bretagne. I think better when I am looking at a map."
"I will have them sent to your room,” Philippe replied, taken aback by the thought of a peasant archer who could read. A slow smile lightened his mood. "I will send them with Gesa."
Raynar smiled back. As if Gesa needed to be told to visit him. "Always call a dog when he is already coming towards you."
"I don't understand."
"Never mind. Jests never translate well.” Raynar stood and bowed waiting for the wave of a hand that would release him to leave. He got it.
"English,” Philippe called to his back, "We owe you."
Raynar stopped in mid stride. Was it a coincidence that these were the exact words that a Boulonnais arbalester had called to him on the battlefield of Fagaduna in Norfolk. He turned to face the king, and Philippe winked at him and then waved him on.
* * * * *
"No, put them away,” complained Gesa pushing his maps off the bed. "Inka is finally asleep. In another hour she will be crying for my tit. Put them away else I will cut them up.” She was wearing next to nothing and it was a wonder that she could have secreted the dagger that she was now pointing at the priceless parchments.
"Alright, help me to roll them up,” Raynar whispered, "carefully.” He reached out to hold one of her full breasts. "I just can't get used to my lithe Gesa with a woman's breasts."
"Well be gentle with them. They ache terribly when it is this close to feeding time."
"Why, love, and why with him,” he asked.
"No herbs are fool proof. You know that. And once I realized I was with child, well, I kind of liked the idea of being with child."
He told her of the vows that Klaes had extracted from Robert. She smiled. "Thank Klaes for me. It wasn't necessary. Bertha and I protect each other quite well from any harm."
"When will she choose to have Philippe's child?” he asked, knowing that for the Queen not to be with child by now meant that she had been using some of Gesa's baby-blocking herbs.
"She has chosen already,” Gesa spoke in a whisper as if the walls had ears. "She just had a miscarriage. It was in the first month. I told her over and over that after she stopped using the baby-blocking herb that she must refuse men for at least a full cycle. But ...she can never refuse Philippe, and she does enjoy sex. It is my fault. I should have kept Philippe away from her bed. She will try for a child again this winter. Meanwhile I will milk Philippe to keep him away from her.”
"Well come over here and milk me."
"Oh no you don't,” she said fighting off his groping hands. "I get my turn first.” She looked into his eyes and she felt a tear in the corner of her own. "Please Raynar, everyone is taking from me, please give me some back. Use your healer's touch on me, sexually I mean."
He never did get his turn. She came so fully, so completely, that she lay in a trance afterwards. She barely moved when he put the hungry Inka to her breast. Afterwards, he burped the baby and changed her and put her back in her bassinette and still Gesa was in a trance. When he lay down beside her, she curled against him mewing and eventually his silk shirt was soaked with her milk.
Before first light, she woke him and wanted another turn. He tended her lovingly, and still did not get a turn, but at least this time she backed onto him before she entered her trance. He tried to remain still so as not to break her trance, but that was impossible for she was so hot and swollen inside. Eventually he had to pump, which led to more pumping, but he could not stay awake. He fell asleep still deeply connected to her.
* * * * *
Count Fulk of Anjou sat beside Philippe of France and stared down at the map, but stayed still so he could concentrate on the wisdom of this rough English bowman. He was older and more experienced than Philippe, and over their years together, his mentorship had turned into friendship, and then trusting friendship. He also felt a friendship to the peasant, who had played big in the capture of the fortress of Montreuil-Sur-Mer. What was that, four years ago almost.
"Make Robert of Normandy the knight commander at either Montreuil-Sur-Mer or at Corbie,” explained Raynar. "He is furious with his father because he has refused him the hand of Judith of Lens. Think up some likely excuse to have him raid across the border into this region here,” He pointed to an area of the map.
"That is the disputed Vexin region between my lands and Normandy,” Philippe explained. "It is the highlands to the north of the Seine that my father lost to Normandy at the same time that he lost Corbie to Flanders. Since I have Corbie back again as part of Bertha's dowry, it is past time that I have the Vexin back again as well. And just to be clear, Robert has been furious with his father for the whole time that he has been at my court because William refuses to make him the Duke of Normandy."
"Yes, tell me more of that later,” continued Raynar politely. "Robert will lead your French knights on some light raids and do a little damage. He is, after all, heir to that land, so he will not be too cruel. Meanwhile the English exiles, supported by bowmen, will strike deeply into the Vexin and close the Seine, sink the shipping, and the ferries, and burn any bridges."
Philippe stared at the map and thought out loud, "William will think that the attacks along the Seine are a full invasion. He must pull troops from his campaign in Bretagne to protect the Seine."
Raynar tapped the arm of Fulk, the Count of Anjou. He knew Le Rechin, the Shark, as a capable warlord from their campaign together when they routed the pirates from Montreuil. "Fulk, you will march Philippe's entire army to Bretagne. Hide them as best you can within striking distance of Dol. Even a hide in Anjou may be close enough. Wait until William recalls some of his forces from the siege of Dol. When he army is split ...."
"then attack him,” Philippe finished the thought. "It is so simple. It must work. Once an army is retreating they lose so many of their supplies that they cannot attack again for some time. That will give the Bretons time to reorganize and come forward in a second wave against William. With Fulk keeping William busy on the borders of Bretagne, then Maine and Anjou may also rise against the Normans. They hate their Normans lords."
"There is only one flaw,” said Raynar.
This time it was Fulk who spoke, "Lambert of Lens and Eustace of Boulogne. They supported William in '66 and although they signed our treaty with Flanders that they must no longer actively support William, neither are they against him. They could outflank our move in the Vexin, or at least block our retreat when the raids have served their purpose."
"Exactly,” confirmed Raynar.
Philippe was again thinking out loud. "I can summon Lambert here to discuss the plight of his daughter, what is her name?"
"Judith,” replied Raynar. "Be sure to invite her mother too, and hold her feet to the fire."
"Good idea,” said Fulk, "she is William's sister. That will enrage him and pull him north for sure."
"It was a figure of speech, Fulk,” said Philippe with a groan. "If you ever torture that woman, I will spend the next day pulling Raynar's arrows out of you.” He swung around to face Fulk, "Coot, what of the Boulogne boys? Eustace the younger, Godfrey, and Baldwin. They visited my court last year. Hell raisers. Bertha had to ask me to send them on their way. They were constant companions of Robert's. I will ask Gesa how close they rea
lly were. Perhaps I can entice them to join Robert in Corbie for the mischief. That will keep their father out of it."
Philippe reached over the map and grabbed Raynar by the arm, "We have a plan. Now I feel good. We owe you another one English. Will you arrange for the bowmen to support the exiles?"
"Will a hundred be enough?” asked Raynar.
"Hmm, to close a river for a few weeks,” replied Fulk, "and then disappear when they see the Norman army. I think so. Enough to do the damage of an army, yet few enough to disappear quickly. Yes, a hundred. That is what, three of your English wolfpacks?"
"I have terms,” said Raynar.
"Speak them,” encouraged Philippe with a wide smile. He already felt like the campaign was won. This would be the first great victory of his reign, and since it would be against the feared William of Normandy, it would rally all of the Frankish barons to his side.
"The immediate purpose is to get the Normans to split their army in Bretagne, not to harrow the serfs, nor to loot or to rape. You must make clear in the orders to your knights and the exiles."
"Agreed,” replied Philippe. "After all, I want to eventually take back the Vexin, so I do not want to make enemies of the folk. It will be hard to enforce, though. You know how men are."
"The long term purpose is to get Normans fighting Normans,” Raynar continued. "No non-Norman lives are to be risked."
"Agreed. I will make that clear in the orders as well."
"That is all,” said Raynar.
"What do you mean, that is all?” Philippe was incredulous. "I was waiting for the list of honours and estates that you would demand for this work."
"What good are promises of honours to a peasant. I want nothing save for good silver coin to pay my bowmen and good food to keep them riding hard... in advance of course. To be picked up in Montreuil at the start of the campaign. My only other desire is about the Edicts of Cluny and you have already said no to that."
"Again with the Cluny. All right then. After I belittle William of Normandy, I will propose to all of my barons that we should adopt and abide by the Edicts of Cluny, but it is they who must be convinced, not I."
"Then I suggest that you send a bishop from Cluny to Sicily to gain the support of the Normans there. They have a long supply line and stand to gain much from the peace on the pilgrim routes, which is why the Pope is now also pressing for the adoption of the Edicts."
"Agreed, I will give that order immediately. This is enough for today. We should all sleep on these plans and discuss them again in the morning.” Philippe looked down at his maps and waved his permission for Fulk and Raynar to withdraw.
"Do you have time for some diversions, bowman?” asked Fulk.
"What are their names?” asked Raynar. He liked Fulk, and enjoyed his company, despite his appetite for young women.
"Their names must remain a secret in case their prioress comes looking for them."
"Nuns, you would ravage nuns?” Raynar said in mock outrage. The court at Paris was now filled with young nobles. Over the few years of his reign, young Philippe had been sending away all of the old retainers who had sucked the life out of his kingdom under his incompetent father. He had replaced them with their sons and daughters. His court had thus become a gay place of youthful energy, including sexual energy. Fulk, whose sexual appetite was renown, was the king's unofficial procurer of comely noblewomen.
"They have not yet taken their vows. It is allowed,” said Fulk convincingly. "Besides, there are no virgins in the convent here. Their priests take care of that."
"Send them to Philippe's chamber,” Raynar replied. "I will keep Gesa away from him tonight."
"Ah, bless you bowman. That is another good plan, and how generous of me,” replied Fulk with a broad smile.
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Hoodsman - Forest Law by Skye Smith
Chapter 10 - Robert in court in Brugge in October 1076
The colors of the sunset across the damp low lands of Flanders were best watched from a tower, and the palace at Brugge had such a tower. The count heard footsteps on the steps behind him and sighed at the breach of his few moments of tranquility.
"Uncle, you were looking for me?"
Count Robert cherished his sister Matilda, but he could not warm to her eldest son. "Yes,” he turned to face the staircase. "You are forgiven nephew."
"By whom, uncle?” replied Robert to Robert.
"By your king, Philippe. Here, he sent this dispatch addressed to the both of us. Let me read it to you,” Robert of Flanders did not know how well Robert of Normandy could read. "My esteemed... ugh ... on this day ... ah here it is. Bloody court clerks. I'll wager that even their farts go around in circles. This is what he says.
I forgive you for your attacks on my vassals. Your father gave you great cause, and you were right to protect the honor of a truly noble woman. I have sent word that you will be joining my garrison at Corbie as a knight commander in charge of policing our border with the Vexin. Please punish that area of Normandy for daring to make raids across our peaceful border and against all treaties.... and so on ... and so on.
There was another phrase of importance ... here it is.... and perhaps you can convince your father that this policing will continue until he withdraws the forced betrothal of Judith of Lens, who is my own and true vassal and not his, and is a widow still in mourning and of good repute.... blah... blah ... blah."
Robert stood and looked dazed. "You mean that the King of France, my good friend, is wanting me to start a war against the King of the English, my father, and is giving me one of his commands so that I can do just that?"
"Not just a command, lad. He has also committed the powerful garrison at Montreuil-Sur-Mer to support you. That fortress is manned by English exiles who spit on your fathers name every waking moment of their lives."
"I beg your pardon, uncle, but I must run and tell this news to Judith."
"You are excused, but tell her only that you are going to Corbie, and nothing of the mission. It is best that she stay here with her children. She can either continue on in the small palace, or join us in this one,” the count offered, and then waved him gone.
"Finally his life has some purpose,” said Gertrude looking away from the pink and red hues reflecting on the canals. "This could be the making of him."
"Why do I smell Raynar's hand in this?"
She straightened from where she had been leaning against the balustrade and moved close enough to her husband to whisper into his ear. "Perhaps because earlier today you spent an hour decoding a message from him to Hereward requesting three wolfpacks, mounted, for a campaign of two weeks, and no casualties expected."
Robert whispered back, "A good plan. Threaten William in the north to make him withdraw from his campaign in Bretagne. I must inform our new ambassador from Denmark in case it effects their plans for their fleet this winter."
"It is prayer time. You will find Canute in the chapel. He is so pious that he prays to an alter made by men rather that joining us here to pray to the works of the gods.” She swept her hand around at the marvelous sunset.
"It can wait, for you also had a letter from Paris. Have you read it yet? Was it news of Bertha in Paris?"
Again she whispered in his ear, "Raynar wrote to me in code. Bertha is recovering from a miscarriage, but is healthy and will try again in the winter.
Motherhood becomes Gesa. I suppose that means that she now has breasts that you would moan over.
Philippe is beginning to run France directly, for himself. He sees William of Normandy as his single biggest problem.
He has made a soft commitment to Cluny.
He has spies on the docks in Oudenburg.
Fulk is working his way through the local convent.
Oh, and make sure that Eustace of Boulogne does not send forces across his southern border."
"Hmm,” he purred, still envisioning the lovely, lithe Gesa with full breasts. "I hadn't thought of that."<
br />
"Yes, if pressed, Eustace may still support William."
"No, the convent. How many women under twenty do you think are in our convent?"
Gertrude made to thump him on the arm, but he caught her by the hand and twirled her gracefully into his arms and kissed her. "Are you worried about Bertha?"
"What could I do for her that Gesa could not do better. But yes, I am worried. I am allowed. I am her mother."
They were quiet for the rest of the colours.
"You are worried too,” she said.
"This order to Robert has cast the dice. I've been waiting for this eagerly yet fearfully. William must see the sense of making Robert the Duke. He cannot remain as both the Duke of Normandy and the King of the English. It upsets the entire Frankish manorial order of masters and vassals.
Imagine if you were a Norman noble who had honors in both Normandy and England. You are ultimately the vassal of Philippe for your lands in Normandy, but you are also the vassal of William in England for your lands there, but at the same time William is also a vassal of Philippe in Normandy. It cannot help but create treachery and dishonor and cries of treason."
"And war, endless war,” added Gertrude. "When wars start, men always seem to wager on who will win, but they miss that choosing the loser is a sure thing. The women and children always lose.” She leaned her head against his shoulders.
He whispered, "Though it is evil to say it about my own sister's husband, I do so wish that William would die soon, before he can begin more wars, and more devastation."
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Hoodsman - Forest Law by Skye Smith
Chapter 11 - Château Gaillard-sur-Seine, The Vexin in October 1076
For a plan so hastily connived and given wings, it was working well, at least in the Vexin. What was happening in Bretagne they could only imagine. In northern Vexin, Robert of Normandy was showing his pennant while leading the three brothers from Boulogne and a troop of decorous French knights from Montreuil and half the garrison from Corbie. No one really cared what Robert did, so long as he was very visible and caused trouble enough to be reported to Caen.