Hoodsman: Blackstone Edge

by Smith, Skye

  "We were lucky to take this fortress with so little blood spilled." Raynar waved his hand at the view. "This view of the highways and the rivers and the bridge should scream one thing to your brains." He waited while they looked out and tried to guess what he meant. "The Normans will be along shortly to take it back." There was a rumble of muttering. "Well they're not going to get it back, are they?" There were cheers.

  "They may not come for a month or for a year. If they attack this burgh, there will be English and Danes sweeping here to defend it by ship and by street. We control the rivers with Sweyn's ships. We control the streets so long as we hold this burgh." He had their attention. "What we need now is to keep a garrison in this fortress. It does not need to be that large, but large enough to secure it from an attack long enough for help to arrive." The leaders were all nodding in agreement.

  "Our first decision must be to choose a garrison commander. The Normans would call him a castellan. One man responsible for protecting this fortress and for running the day to day affairs of the burgh. A reeve rather than a warlord." He looked about. They were already signaling to each other. "Before you nominate someone, understand that we need someone who is used to running a big and wealthy village, but he must also have battle experience. Now, does anyone know such a man?"

  Once he sat back down again, Hereward whispered to him, "I was thinking of asking Rodor or Klaes or Thorold."

  "They are too valuable to be locked inside this burgh," Raynar replied. "Any of us can take over if the burgh is attacked, but in the mean time we just need an administrator with a big voice to keep the axemen in line."

  "You would garrison this fortress with axemen?" asked Hereward.

  "What else are they good for? We have urgent and important tasks for the bowmen and the oarsmen. These axemen are a liability until they learn some other skills. I will ask John to set this fortress up as a training camp to teach bowcraft. That will give it a larger than necessary garrison that we can pull from for patrols to control the roads."

  Meanwhile the axemen were arguing over the merits of two of their choices. One of the other men sidled over to Raynar and said in a low voice, "My second would be a better choice than either of these men. His name is Rapenald and he was the steward of Ramsey until the Normans replaced him."

  "Then why is he a second?" asked Raynar.

  "He didn't want to be the leader or the second, but the men forced him to be second if he wasn't to be lead."

  "Go, bring him," said Raynar.

  Everyone watched him go and the two other men in the running asked what was about.

  "He has gone to fetch Rapenald."

  Both men sat down and told Raynar that if Rapenald accepts that they would be satisfied.

  Rapenald was a man about Hereward’s age, and Hereward knew of him. The other axemen pressured him to accept the post. He was resisting so Raynar motioned to him to follow and he led him to the top of the tower and showed him the view of the land around.

  "Whoever is castellan here is in control of all these routes. It will be a difficult task, so we need the best man. The purse to run the burgh will be thousands of shillings, so we need a trustworthy man. Most of all we need a man that the axemen will obey, because it will take axemen to hold this fortress."

  "You can shovel the shit as deep as you like lad, but I will still make my own decision," he thought and looked around once more. "Right. I'll do it. My first request is that I want a few fast skiffs to be used for taking messages and passengers to and from Ely. My second is that I want the big smithy assigned here for a few weeks to train the axemen in bow craft. My third is that this burgh becomes a market town again. I want lots of women inside the burgh walls so that my men take the protection of the walls personally."

  "Good," he waved his hand to the staircase, "after you my lord sheriff."

  Hereward finally got to speak. He confirmed Rapenald as castellan and asked him to start immediately. He also assigned all of his axemen to this fortress for training in bows and pole axe and the defeat of cavalry. He then took Rapenald to the bed chamber where the women were and showed him the two leather bags of silver.

  "These are to be used to run the fortress. You must keep a simple accounting of expenses, and show it whenever you ask us for more coin." He pulled the girl towards him and gave her a squeeze. "As you are from Ramsey, then the folk around this burgh are your folk. Treat them fairly and pay fair prices for what you need. No raiding, no foraging, and protect the farmers here abouts. I want healthy harvests to make up for last winter."

  "Do you want an oath from me?" asked Rapenald.

  "Do you hate the Normans?"

  "Yes, with all my soul," replied Rapenald.

  "Then we are brothers, and we will treat each other as brothers."

  "Agreed," and they grasped each other in a warriors grasp.

  * * * * *

  They slept on the guard's beds on the ground floor of the tower and kept the door closed despite the smell of the place. The five villagers kept the five knights in agony until well after midnight. Then there was silence. Anske was asleep in Raynar’s arms. John asked, "Do you think they are dead now?"

  "No," said Hereward, "they will not kill them. The knights, or what is left of them, will be allowed to kill themselves. Are you good with that end, Raynar?"

  "The prisoners will not see Cambridge, but will be bonded to ships captains instead?" Raynar asked, and Hereward confirmed it. "Then I am good. I wish William the Bastard and all his armies the same fate."

  "I don't understand," said Anske sleepily looking out from under Raynar's cloak. "Is the moot not now obliged to set a steep wergild for taking the lives of the knights?"

  "They were no longer knights. They were bond slaves. There is no wergild for a slave, only the cost of replacement to the bond holder," explained Raynar. "Hereward knew all this when he called for a moot. The results were worth it. The army is overjoyed by the outcome. They have captured a fortress complete with weapons, armour, and horses and with almost no butcher list.

  The hated Normans did not walk free. The villagers got their blood vengeance. The earth has lost some men that have burned women and children in their houses. No one will mourn their passing. Best of all, Hereward is now a champion of the axemen. They will follow him into battle."

  "May Freyja torture them for eternity," Anske cursed, "and may you all shut up so I can sleep".

  * * * * *

  At first light, Anske pulled Raynar out of their thin, hard bed to join the watch at the top of the tower. Their hopes for a morning view of the country side were delayed by the pre dawn mists rising from all the waterways and bogs. They waited patiently while the sun rose, but that made the view worse because the mists glared white in the sunlight. They were about to give up and go down when a wind sprang up and within minutes the mists were gone.

  They watched while the burgh awoke and began the first day of being English again. It had been a warm night and most of the men had slept in the open on top of their sheepskins and under their cloaks. Rapenald was already pacing the burgh and giving orders. Villagers who had been told to bar their doors were now walking around their houses and taking to each other. The docks beside the bridge were already busy with local fishermen selling lampreys and eels and with farmwives selling spring greens.

  Two armoured men were riding along the Peterburgh road, so they left the tower and went to meet them. They were known by the men at the burgh gate and were let through without escort. They saw Raynar and came straight to him. "Rodor sent us. The ships have taken the prisoners away and he wonders if he should send the axemen to Huntingdon?"

  "Tell him yes. Tell him we control Huntingdon and we will keep Ermine street safe. All he need do is guard Peterburgh until my return."

  Hereward came down the motte to see what was up. He had nothing else to add so the couriers went to get some food before making the return journey to the great abbey. "Today you and I take a ship to Ely. We need to sit with S
weyn and plan the capture of Cambridge."

  "We also need to buy some of his ships. They don't need to be good ships, as we will only be using them in rivers, but we need our own ships for passengers and cargo," Raynar winked. "You know ... cargo that needs hiding."

  Rapenald called to them, and came to talk. Raynar asked him to send out patrols to search for and buy any skiffs that fit his need. John stumbled down the hill and was asked very nicely if he would set up a training program in bow craft for the axemen. The cook came across the grass with three young axemen in her trail carrying baskets of fish. Raynar asked her to spread the word that this burgh needed more women, especially comely widows.

  "Oh," she said as she turned to the men with the baskets, "lads, I have to run an errand. You lot hang those baskets on the hooks inside the kitchen by the door." The men continued up the path, while she pointed to a longhouse half hidden by oaks on the other side of the river bridge. "That was the Normans' whore house. I forgot all about them what with the bailey falling so quickly and all. I wonder if they are all still under guard. John dearie, could you escort me over the bridge to 'ave a look see. Oh, and bring some of your bowmen."

  Hereward shook his head and laughed as he watched the oversized couple glide across the grass. "Come on you lot. Grab your gear. We have to catch the next ship to Ely." He turned to Rapenald. "The cook made a good point. We need to take stock of what is about. Especially what other Normans are about. Please send out patrols to take a look see. Tell them not to start any fights. They need not kill, nor capture, nor even fight the Normans, but they should try not to leave them with any horses."

  They took the three young knights that had survived the Moot with them on the ship. They would be Sweyn's guests until they were required for prisoner trades or to send messages to the Norman generals. The knights were depressed, and for good reason. They were seething with anger and swore revenge against Hereward for breaking the terms that should have taken all their men safely to Cambridge.

  Raynar sat with them on board, and tried to explain that Hereward would have them safely in Cambridge as well, but the deeds of the other knights while in Yorkshire had sealed their fate. Hereward knew he could not save the knights, and set his mind to save the rest of the men. The surest way was to take them prisoner and move them to Ely away from the vengeance of the Danelaw axemen.

  "They will serve the summer and fall on the oars and then they will be free," Raynar explained, trying to soften the knights' view of Hereward. "On Danish trade ships they can choose which shore to take their freedom. Those that will it, will be home in Normandy before winter."

  Later in the voyage, he asked them, "If those knights had served William in Northumbria, then they would have been given large holdings there. Why were they in Huntingdon?"

  "The north is dangerous for us right now," the blue eyed knight told him. "You need to surround yourself with a small army to protect yourself against the desperate bands of axemen that are ranging in the forests and hills."

  The dark eyed knight continued, "When the king gives honors to a knight in reward, he splits the honors so that they have land in different shires. Those knights were given honors in Northumbria, in Cambridgeshire, and in Staffordshire. With Northumbria so dangerous, those knights took possession of the honors closer to London first. All the knights are doing so. The king approves. It is creating a buffer of Norman run estates between the Danelaw and London."

  "Thank you for explaining that. So you have honors in Cambridgeshire?" asked Raynar.

  "We do, but we have not yet taken possession," said blue eyes.

  "What do you mean, take possession?" asked Raynar.

  "The lands are in trust to the crown, but Englishmen still live in the houses and work the fields. We just have to find the place, and then move into the largest house and start running the estate. We have scrolls that make it legal. The English can stay on and do the work, but they work for us," said blue eyes. "They are free to leave and work elsewhere, but most stay on."

  "The widows can't leave," said dark eyes, "not unless we allow it. If they have claim to the land, then the king wishes us to marry them. I hope mine is young and pretty."

  Raynar went very quiet and moved away from them without further word. Hereward was standing close to the steering oar and he went and stood beside him. "I think the Dead and Wed policy is moving north again," Raynar hissed, and then repeated what the knights had told him.

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  The Hoodsman - Blackstone Edge by Skye Smith

  Chapter 27 - Hiding a King's treasure in Surfleet Lincolnshire in May 1070

  No one lived in the village of Surfleet anymore. Not since the tidal bore of '64 salted the fields and washed the houses away. All that was left was the ancient church and it's church yard. The folk had all moved to Spalding and were better off for it. Even so, the men shortened their oar strokes to minimize the splashing. There were four of them. John, Hereward, Alan, and Raynar. Anske had stayed in her island village of Westerbur where they had borrowed this big rowing skiff.

  Twenty hoodsmen had guarded the cart along the highways. They would be halfway back to Peterburgh by now. At a secluded place where the cartway forded the river, they had transferred the load from the cart to the boat. The load was a collection of caskets and chests of all sizes. They contained all the gold and jewels left for safe keeping by English lords at Peterburgh Abbey. No one knew the full value of the treasure, as they had not opened any of the sealed chests, but it would be safe to say it was worth an Earldom.

  At Surfleet, they crept ashore with arrows nocked, and immediately squatted and listened. There was wind and birds and the lapping of water, but no human noises. The church and churchyard were on the highest land, which was the only land that had not been washed clean by the tidal bore.

  Raynar and Alan moved cautiously towards the church. The door was closed and the soft dirt leading to it showed no footprints other than those of a curious rat. Forewarned of the soft dirt, they kept to the grass and circled the church. They were alone.

  They pulled the boat along the shallow channel that led to the small pool of protected water behind the church. There was a ruin here, a ruin older than the ancient ruins of the church.

  "Roman?" Raynar asked.

  "Probably. It is certainly ancient," replied Hereward, "I was once camped here for two days waiting for a ship to Flanders. There was little to do but explore these ruins. That quarry over there was a temple. Most of the stone from it was used to build the church. Stone is rare in this land of silt and shifting sands, so if the Romans had not shipped in the stone to build that temple, no one would have built a stone church here."

  He looked around to get his bearings. "The Roman houses were over there. I remember finding one of those floors with pictures made of different colored tiles. But that," he pointed to a series of mounds, "that is why we are here." He walked to the mound and the other men followed him.

  "This was some kind of craft work. Those bricks haven't become clay again because they are as hard as soft stone. The old priest from the church told me that the bricks were made from a mix of clay and lime and then cooked to make them so hard."

  John picked up two bricks and smashed them together. "Bloody good building material. Clay, lime, and heat you say. I've seen the like when I tore down my da's old kiln. The clay bricks of the hearth were hard like this. I wonder if there is money to be made from them. Rain proof bricks. Stone blocks that you can cast so you don't need masons to dress them."

  The other men were smiling at him. "Whatsup," John said too loudly and was motioned to talk softly, "it's a good idea. You saw those some of those bridge arches that we pulled down to cut the fen causeways. They were made of bricks like these, and they had been standing in water since ancient times."

  Hereward stopped in front of a rounded wall made of the bricks. "This is a round room made entirely of those bricks and even has a round ceiling." There was a large fl
at stone on end blocking the entrance. "Here, John, do you think you can move that stone."

  John squatted in front of the stone, grabbed it, and pushed mightily with his legs. "Move ... you ... fuckin ... ahh." It did not move. "To heavy."

  Hereward motioned him aside. He reached around one end of the stone and removed a boulder. Then he rolled the stone out of the entrance. John, still kneeling, went to poke his head in the low doorway. "No!" yelled Hereward and pulled John over backwards away from the doorway, "bog gas collects in these buildings. Stick your head in and you fall asleep, or die."

  Hereward walked around to the side of the strange structure and climbed a pile of rubble to the roof and removed another flat stone from its perch on the top of the dome. "There is a hole in the top. I don't know why, either for light or for smoke. Remove the roof stone and the bog gas clears through the roof. It may take an hour so let's unload the boat while we wait."

  They formed a line and methodically moved the chests from the boat to the brick ruin.

  "How did you find out about the bog gas?" John asked.

  "It was dark inside, and I don't like dark places, so I shoved a torch inside in front of me." Hereward began to laugh at himself and the memory, "The gas caught fire with a whumpff. Blew the roof stone off the hole and blew my beard, mustache, eyebrows and the front of my hair off my head. I was a right pretty sight when I was presented at court in Flanders. Needless to say, Count Baldwin's niece declined my proposal."

  After the boat was unloaded, Hereward lit some tinder, and blew on it to light a simple torch made from shaving a stick, and then threw it in the doorway. It sputtered but stayed lit. "Some bog gas doesn't burn. It puts out fires and snuffs out lives. The poison gas burns, the suffocating gas puts out fires."