by Smith, Skye
The house had been rented from the village baker, which had advantages, as the baker had a flair for his trade. As his oven was always fired, it was used by the other villagers rather than them building their own. Since the village was too small for a daily market, the bakers oven was the gossip corner of the valley.
The house next door to the bowmen had also been rented for similar reasons, but by Robert's knights. During Judith's two stays at Gerberoi, this house was taken over by Robert's latest Parisian mistress. She was older than Robert, but still handsome and well figured, and of course, was asked to remove herself from the castle for the duration of Judith's visits. When Raynar realized who his neighbour was, he openly laughed at the symmetry woven by the fates.
They met by chatting while waiting for the morning bread. Once they had bread in their hands and mouths, they made smiles over bread. This led to smiles over wine, which led to smiles across a bathing pond, which led to smiles across a pillow. She, of course, was one of Fulk's spies, though she never admitted to this. He knew because he recognized the messenger who he saw throwing pebbles at her window one night.
Raynar could guess what was in Fulk’s message. It would be the same as the message that his wolvesheads mouthed for him at each meeting of the commanders at the castle. "Stop playing in the valleys and make a lightening attack on Rouen."
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The Hoodsman - Forest Law by Skye Smith
Chapter 25 - Looking at ships in Ferneham, Hampshire in October 1103
Even the short journey from Winchester to Southampton to Portchester Harbour had exhausted the elderly and recovering Raynar. He had drooped in his saddle while they walked the horses the length of Southampton harbour with no luck in his quest. On the trek to Portchester harbour, they had been forced to stop and rest many times. He was truly not well.
Maud had suspected a contamination of his wound, and had cleaned it again. Maud was the only woman in the royal party as Lucy and Mary had stayed with Edith and her new son. Mary to tend Edith and Lucy to guard her son.
Raynar kept telling Maud that he had no fever, so it wasn't contamination, and that the wound was not hot, so it was healing well, and that there were no organs in the upper arm so internal damage would be only to muscles. That was when she began to suspect poison. It was logical. Of course an assassin would use a poisoned blade.
Raynar knew enough about poison to know that there would be other signs, like the signs of it traveling through the arteries, or a dying of the skin around the wound, or a smell of metal or of putrification.
Robert kept saying that it was weakness from the loss of blood. The attack was in the dark so there was no way of gauging how much blood the man had lost.
They rode the last two miles towards Portchester harbour with Raynar riding in front of Maud on the largest horse, Robert's horse, so that she could hold him in the saddle and ensure he did not fall. Luckily they did not need to travel to the mouth of the great harbour as all the ships that had sought safety from the monstrous winds, were huddled out of the wind in the shallow waters of Ferneham.
The royal party took over the largest alehouse. While Raynar reclined on a bench with his head in Maud's lap, Henry sent for the port clerk, and for the dock master. By the time they arrived, Raynar had recovered his strength somewhat and was able to sit up by leaning on the rough plank table.
The port clerk and the dock master arrived together and looked as guilty as if they had just been caught in bed with the neighbour's wife. They stood to attention at the sight of nobles, for they had gauged their importance by the size of their escort. They were even more distracted by the sight of a noble woman sitting on a bench in an alehouse that was famous for it's whores. Luckily the whores had walked to the other alehouses as soon as they had been cleared from this one.
"Sit with us and take some ale,” Raynar said and motioned them to the bench on his side of the table. The men looked worried but then the two richest looking nobles nodded their accent, so they sat.
"I am in search of four ships,” said Raynar slowly. The two salts gave him a look as if he had two heads as if to say 'There are hundreds of ships in the harbour. Take your pick'. "I need specially rigged ships,” continued Raynar. "Ships that look like they were built to step two masts, but then the rearmost mast was cut short."
The men were too nervous to think clearly. Both were relieved that this was not about the complaints that they were gouging fees from the foreign ships for them to remain here during the storms.
"Do not be quick to answer,” said Raynar, seeing that they were about to shake their heads, "drink your ale and clear your minds to remember. You would have noticed them because the second mast is so odd."
Maud pulled her veil across her face to shield herself from the stares of men. Henry stood and went outside to talk to his men and to stretch out a cramp from the ride. Robert wandered over to the keeper to ask if he had any wine. Then, of course, he had no coin in his purse small enough to purchase a firkin. The port clerk was slurping his ale and trying not to look at the expensive woman.
The dock master finally spoke. "There's them barges they use in pilgrim season.” He looked at the port clerk for confirmation. "Dey is ancient. Dey wus used for transporting stock, till the channel trade in stock turned bad under Rufus. Dey refitted dem and use dem for ferryin' groups of pilgrims across, but only in good weather. You won't want them for the seas dat we'ese been 'avin'."
Raynar looked at him with interest. "Yes, those may serve. The type of ship I seek would likely be used for horses."
"They'll be beached up closer to Portchester fort. Finished for the season for sure,” said the port clerk.
"Where are the masters, the captain, the owner?"
"Pah, they will have been beached for a month,” replied the clerk. "The masters will not be here. The owners are likely in Normandy, and the captains will have signed onto other ships."
"Can you show me the ships?"
"I can't leave my post.” said the clerk.
"Nor I,” said the dock master.
Maud looked at Robert to do something, but of course, Robert had not understood a word of what had been said. Raynar looked weak. She took a silver coin from her purse and flipped it in the air and slammed her hand down on it. "Clerk, you call it. If you win you get the coin and show us the ships, else the master gets it.” Both men looked at her in defiance, but then looked at the weapons her escort carried and the clerk called it. He lost.
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As soon as Raynar saw the ships, he got his second wind. There were actually five of them, but one would require too much work to float. The other four had been properly beached for the winter. He called the captain of the escort to him. "Take the dock master and some men, and spare horses, and bring me the best shipwrights on the harbour.” Henry nodded, so the captain was away without hesitation.
"Your plan, as you told it,” said Henry, "was to rig some ships for heavy weather and then beat down the coast to the River Tamara to block any ships until my cavalry gets there. It will take weeks to get these ships seaworthy, and I question the choice of these old barges over the many sleek new ships in the harbour."
"This weather may continue until spring,” replied Raynar, "and it could take until spring for your cavalry to win a position strong enough to block Mortain's castle from their port in Esse. I showed you the maps. The only reasonable way to block Mortain is to block Tamara mouth. That means getting ships there."
"I don't find any logic in the suggestion of putting out into these seas in these barges."
"It has risks, but I have done it before. For my own part, I say let Mortain flee to Normandy with his men and his treasure. It is you that have promised your brother to keep him in England."
Raynar left the group and pulled himself slowly up into the best of the ships. He clambered around poking the hull and the beams with his knife. This ship was nearly as old as he was, yet the wood was still so
und. He was amazed. He went and stood at the steering post and looked over at the other ships. They seemed close enough in build to be sister ships. While standing there he was haled from a hut beyond the third ship. "Get off it, ya fuckah” was what it sounded like.
He lowered himself down the hull, and then instead of dropping the last feet to the ground, he had Maud bring the horse under him and he lowered himself to sit in front of her. They went to meet the man in the hut.
"You've no right to be on those ships,” said a man with one arm sitting in front of the hut carving something in a stone.
"Where is the owner, the captains?” asked Raynar.
"The captains are gone. They hire on for the season. The owner lives above us in the manor. Follow that cartway."
"Do you know these ships?"
"Oh, aye, the one in front here took my arm back in '93."
"Are they seaworthy?” asked Raynar.
"Bloody unsinkable so long as you keep tarring the seams. The oak of the spine and ribs is so dense it won't float, and you can't use nails in it. They just bend."
They did not need to follow the cartway, because men were streaming down it to see what was happening. Robert and Henry and their escort came around the ships but then Henry held them back when he saw the hand signal from Raynar. He had ridden enough times with the wolfpacks to know all such hand signals.
The men who crowded around Maud and Raynar were curious, not angry, and he did not want them to feel threatened, which is why he motioned Henry back. "I need to charter these ships for a month, who do I speak to?"
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The ships were floated and moved to the shipwrights dock in Ferneham that same day. The owner did not even bargain hard for the charter. Instead he chuckled to himself at getting coin for naught. Those ships would never leave the harbour. Not in these seas.
He was shocked when he visited his ships four days later. Raynar had worked daybreak to sunset every day with the shipwrights explaining his vision, explaining the needs, the joining, and the lashings. The twin hulls were taking shape. The spars were in place. The lashings done. Mostly what they were waiting for was the iron pins to connect the mast and the false mast to the spars.
The fitting had created a stir in the otherwise bored seamen, now all beached for the winter. There was an abundance of labour which sped the work, and an abundance of seamen willing to sign on for a paying journey.
Robert returned on the fifth day with the message that Henry was assembling his army to be sent to Cornwall. Robert wanted to ensure that the ships would be ready and soon. Now that the army was gathering, Mortain would know their intentions and he would be loading his own ships. He had brought with him some iron pins given to him by a soot blackened giant of impossible size who had delivered them to Edith at the palace.
Raynar rushed along the docks with the pins to give them to the shipwrights. They began fitting them immediately. Robert followed him and stood and watched all the activity on the ships. A group of curious captains followed Robert. Raynar was fully busy, so Robert began chatting to the captains, who all knew many languages, including French.
"Do you think these ships can go out into that sea?” asked Robert. The answer was just mumbling. "You men are not at sea. Your ships are tied up. What does your weather sense tell you of the wind for the next week.” Raynar came to stand beside Robert to hear the answers. One of the captains finally spoke.
"It seems strange that you are asking such questions of us, when you have Cap'n Raynar of Oudenburg standing beside you,” said a tall man with a ruddy weather beaten face and long flowing blonde hair. "Ray, I thought that Magnus Barefoot drowned you in the Menai Straits back in '98 when he shot Hugh the Fat?"
"I traded my oldest bow to him for my life,” replied Raynar. "What of you, Mark of Skegness, I had heard that you drowned while fighting infidels in the Bosporus?"
"No, I survived the voyage of the Daneglish exiles to Constantinople. As you can see, I even returned, though many of those that I took are in shallow graves in Dyrrhachium, and the rest are still trying to create a New England or a New York on the shores of the Black Sea,” he bowed low to Raynar with a flourish, and then stood tall again. "I see that you are playing with twinhulls again. Where are you going that requires such speed?"
"Somewhere that will pay any good seaman with a strong bow a season's earnings in one passage. Do you wish to skipper one of the ships for me, you on one, me on the other."
"I will need a payment of a pound's silver in advance to pay my debts here."
"That can be arranged."
"And my crew. They are mostly Daneglish and Frisians and they mostly have heavy bows. Can they sign on too?"
"They are welcome,” Raynar replied, "and your first task is just that. Assemble a brave crew. Crew who have used bows at sea. We will need sixty all totaled. Are you in?"
"I am your man. Give me your orders, and order that pound of silver."
Raynar move close to him and grabbed his arm in a warrior clutch. Into his ear he whispered. "I'll give you the orders later, when we are alone. We need navigators too."
Robert had stood still and listened in silence. He kept running the name Raynar of Oudenburg over and over in his mind. His memory of this peasant was clearing.
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The Hoodsman - Forest Law by Skye Smith
Chapter 26 - The twin hulls in Ferneham, Hampshire in October 1103
The winds were behaving themselves though the seas were still high outside of Portsmouth harbour. Mark and Raynar knew they had to sail soon if they were to trap Mortain in the River Tamara. With the winds lessening, the high seas would begin to calm and within as few as three days, Mortain's ships would be able to make the crossing to Normandy. They were ready save for one thing. The strange twin hulled ships had never been tested.
They decided that they had no option but to begin the mission, and if the hulls did not perform, or were not safe, then to end the mission and seek shelter in the nearest safe port. Luckily the first such port would be Southampton and the first waters would be sheltered by he Isle of Wight.
The day before yesterday, Robert had agreed to pay the crews well, whether or not the mission succeeded. He had then ridden to join the army that was marching on Cornwall, carrying Raynar's suggestion that they seize any seaworthy ships in Exeter in case the seas calmed enough to use them to block the River Tamara.
The last of the men and supplies were put aboard and the lines readied to cast off. The crew included four other captains who had shipped as mates just to feel these decks under their feet. Raynar and Mark were the last on the dock when the ships' owner came stomping along the deck full of wine and fury. "You will not take my ships into those seas. You will sink them, and I will lose my business for the sake of a month's charter. I did not agree to this."
The two captains ignored him and continued talking. "You” the owner pushed his finger into Mark's chest. "If you want to ever work this coast again, you will not cast off.” He turned towards Mark's ship and yelled to the crew "This voyage is doomed. You will all be breathing seaweed before this day is finished."
Mark jumped aboard, but the owner jumped aboard after him. Mark yelled at the crew to cast of, and once they were away from the dock he picked the owner up and threw him into the muddy waters close to a low skiff that he could swim to, if he knew how to swim. "Bloody owner should know better. Once the lines are slipped it is the captain that is in charge.” His crew laughed nervously.
A last man leaped aboard Raynar's ship at the moment that they cast off. As both ships rowed away from Ferneham, Raynar's ship took the lead. The entire sea faring town was turned out to see the strange craft sink. They all hoped that these mad captains would raise the sails while still in view so that they could watch them be blown over. The lunatics had removed all of the ballast.
For this first day at sea, the second ship with Mark in command, would stay close and copy every move that
Raynar's ship made, whether it be course, or set of sails, or movement of men between the hulls. Local men with dinghies trailed them, but whether it was to be close by to fish men from the waters, or to fish valuables, no one would ever know.
The sail on the windward hull of Raynar's ship was hoisted, unreefed, and filled with air and without a single lurch of the hull. Mark's ship mimicked Raynar and both ships were swept towards the port's mouth. The shipwrights ashore earned more from that half hour of taking wagers than they did for a week of long hard work on the four hulls.
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The size of the swells running outside the harbour mouth made many of the seamen whimper. Once they had ridden high on a few of them, however, their confidence in the twin hulls firmed. Without the tons of ballast stones, the hulls rode so high that there was never a thought of being swamped. With the twin hulls there was little rolling, unless the mate on the steering oar misjudged a wave peak, in which case they would wallow before they angled down the wave.
Each ship had two of the shipwrights aboard and now they were scurrying all over the ship checking lashings and pins and spars and gunnels. The chief shipwright came up to Raynar with a huge smile on his face. "It is as you said, cap'n. The force of the spars makes the seams even tighter. I can see why you demanded iron pins and well greased. The force on those pins is huge. They take the weight of one or the other of the hulls with every wave."
Raynar nodded. He knew the shipwright would be pleased. His extra captains were doing similar inspections and they kept giving him the thumbs up. The shipwright then said, "I noticed that the feller by the rear spar over there,” he pointed, "is wearing mail under his sheepskin, effing twit. You want I should speak to him."
"No,” replied Raynar, "I'll do it.” He pulled his knife. None of the seasoned oarsmen that Mark had signed on would weight himself down with metal in these seas and with no enemy in sight. His first thought was that he would be a spy or an assassin. He motioned one of the mates to follow him with dagger drawn, and only then did he approach the spy. The man had his hood up, as most of the men did in this light sea spray, and he was keeping his face turned away.