Welsh War

by Griff Hosker

  Welsh War

  Book 5

  in the

  Border Knight Series

  By

  Griff Hosker

  Published by Sword Books Ltd 2018

  Copyright © Griff Hosker First Edition

  The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  Prologue

  My journey from Arsuf all those years ago had been a long one. I had fought as a mercenary. I had killed a Bishop and been declared outlaw. I had lost all and yet, after King John had died and after the Battle of Lincoln, we had rid our land of the French invader and my life had turned full circle. I had regained the lands of my father. I was now Earl of Cleveland as had been my great grandsire, the Warlord. Sir Samuel had died a hero and his family rewarded with the loss of their lands. It was a hard-earned lesson. The Kings of England cared more for themselves than their people. We now had a boy king, Henry, who was the third to bear that name. My great grandfather and grandfather had served two of them. Would Henry turn out to be a king I could follow? He was just ten years old. My youngest son, William, was just a little younger and he had only just become a squire. Time would tell if the son of the great tyrant could become a good king.

  The young boy king had inherited a land riven with dissension. Thanks to my family and my knights the Scots would not be a problem but Llewelyn, King of Gwynedd, was now beginning to encroach upon English lands. Worse, there were many lords who wished more power. They had built adulterine castles. These had not been seen since the time of Stephen and Matilda. These were castles built without permission. The second King Henry and his son, King John, had pulled down all that had been built without their permission. There were lords who defied William Marshal. He was Regent of England.

  I was now over forty years of age. There were few knights my age. William Marshal was the exception. He was old and he had been a knight when the Warlord had shaped England. He had assumed my great grandfather’s mantle but his powers were slipping and I feared that when he passed away there would be no one left to assume his power. I had just knighted my son, Alfred. I had been honoured when he said he would prefer to be knighted by me than the aged Earl. Alfred had been my squire and now the position was taken by young William. With the ceremony over I could get back to being Earl of Cleveland. I could enjoy the valley I loved. I had lived away from it more time than I had spent there and I intended to make the most of it now that I was back from the wars. I knew that I would be called upon to serve my king and my country but for the moment I had peace and I would enjoy it. Once the King was crowned he was placed under the protection of William, Earl Marshal of England. He would ensure that the boy King came to no harm. Perhaps my work was done and I could just be Earl of Cleveland.

  Chapter 1

  The Evil Lord

  My aunt, Ruth, had been a rock during my life. While I had been abroad she had kept me informed of all that went on in England and the valley. She had held on to Wulfestun and then managed to make Stockton her home once more. She was a survivor. She was now well over sixty years of age but remarkably hale and hearty. She had helped to raise my four children and now that Sir Geoffrey FitzUrse was courting my daughter Rebekah she was anticipating more babies for her to fuss.

  It had been almost six months since Alfred had been knighted and I found her in the herb garden she had planted in the inner bailey. She waved me over, “Thomas, your daughter has a potential husband and he is a fine man. I approve but what of Alfred?”

  I laughed, “You are ever blunt, aunt.”

  She smiled, “At my age I do not have time to play with words and seek a diplomatic opening. Have you a bride in mind for him?”

  “Have you forgotten, aunt, that in our family we do not have brides or bridegrooms chosen for us. We do the choosing.”

  She nodded, “True but you are his father. Point him in the right direction. There are many eligible girls who live close by. Alfred is the son of the most powerful baron in the north. He would be a great catch.”

  “He will find one when he is ready but, just to save my ears, I will speak with him.”

  She had been right to prick my conscience. It was not just the fact that he needed to sire an heir it was that I needed him married so that I could give him a manor. Bachelor knights did not have manors. I had many manors at my disposal. King John’s reign had seen manors deprived of lords. Others had taken the cross. During my years abroad and as an outlaw I had learned that a knight needed power and coin if he was to survive. He also needed knightly skills and good men to follow him but coin and land gave a knight the opportunity to pay for good men. I had a large retinue. Henry Youngblood was the captain of my guard and I paid him and my men at arms well. They were equipped as well as knights. The only real difference was that they had a shorter hauberk and did not use spurs. I had not bought them destrier but we had been so successful that they all rode warhorses. They were good at what they did and captured many knights. Their war horses were the spoils of war. Alfred would need such men when he became a lord of the manor.

  David of Wales, my captain of archers, saw me as I left my aunt. He had recently become a father. It was late in life for him. He no longer lived in my hall but he was the first to enter through the gates each morning and the last to leave before the watch was set. He was still industrious. He trained all my new archers and, each Sunday, would drill the men of the town at the green above St. John’s Well.

  “How goes the world, David?”

  He smiled, “It is hard getting used to peace, especially with a baby who seems to spend each moment I am in my home wailing. I thought Cedric Warbow’s snoring in a shared hovel was bad enough but a wailing child is a weapon we should use on the Scots!”

  I smiled for I remembered Rebekah when she had been a baby. She had been a challenging child. Now a woman grown the problems of David of Wales’ first baby brought the memories flooding back. “Well enjoy the peace. I fear it will not last.” He cocked his head to one side. “A messenger came from York. William Marshal is unwell. There is talk of a Council of Regents who have been appointed to help William Marshal guide our king. That may mean work for us.”

  “Will not the Earl Marshal be one of them?”

  I shook my head, “He was invited but he claimed he was too old. He was not. My great grandfather was older still and held England for King Henry when he fought his sons.”

  “Who is on the council then, lord?”

  “Pandulf, he is the Papal Legate. Peter des Roches, the Bishop of Winchester and Hubert de Burgh.”

  “Was he not the castellan of Prince Arthur?”

  “Aye and I have yet to forgive him for his part in the Prince’s death.”

  “It was King John who had him murdered, lord.”

  “And Hubert closed a blind eye.”

  “He needs you, Sir Thomas.”

  “My valley needs me. My family needs me.” I looked at my standard fluttering from my keep. I wanted it there as long as possible. “So, you came to speak with me?”

  “Aye lord. I know we are at peace but, as you say, war could come at any time. I seek permission to ask Geoffrey Steward for funds. We need arrows.”

  “Of course, and how goes the training of new archers?”

&nb
sp; “Well lord. Since the time of Dick, Sir Richard, Stockton has had a reputation for archers. Men seek training here. Even if we do not retain them then they can easily find employment when we have finished working with them.” We both knew that few archers left our walls and those that did were not the best.

  “I would have the best ten reserved for Alfred. He is not married yet but as my aunt reminded me he is eligible and he will seek a bride soon.”

  “Have you a manor in mind for him, lord?”

  “Seamer has no castle and being situated south of the river would be a good place for him to learn how to be a knight. Do not say anything to him. I have yet to speak with him about becoming a lord of the manor.”

  Another of my knights, Sir Fótr, was Swedish and his people had been Vikings. He had the blood of Vikings in his veins. He often spoke of how seemingly inconsequential actions and conversations could be linked and set in motion events which seemed unconnected. So it was that those two conversations set in motion a trickle of rocks which became a landslide. I sought out William, my son and new squire. “Tomorrow we will ride abroad. Tell our squires to prepare our horses.”

  “Will we need guards?”

  “The valley is at peace. If the earl and his son cannot ride without protection then it is a sorry day!”

  That night when the four children had left us I sat with Margaret, my wife, in our chamber which faced west. She enjoyed the view, the solitude and the fact that the two of us were alone. “Aunt Ruth thinks that Alfred ought to be wed.”

  She squeezed my hand and sipped her wine, “She may be right but he is my eldest. I would have him as my boy a little longer.”

  “Rebekah is courted and is younger.”

  “And a fine catch she is. You will give her a good dowry and any knight would be fool to ignore her. She is a girl and that is her future. Alfred is my son.”

  I nodded, “The money I have accrued is for one purpose, my children; all of my children. I would give Alfred a manor.”

  “Ah, now I see and understand. I hope it is not too far away.”

  “Seamer, just south of the river. We can be there in a couple of hours.” I pointed to the river, “It is south of the river and he and his family will be safer there.”

  “Rebekah will be in the Palatinate.”

  “It may be worse than that. I believe the Bishop is considering Sir Geoffrey as the castellan at Norham.”

  “Norham! That is the border!”

  “It may not be permanent. This is the best of times to be close to Scotland. They are weak and riven with internal dissension. He is a knight.” I leaned over and kissed her. “You endured far worse when we were first wed.”

  “Aye but…” she laughed, “You are right. We survived. What does not kill you makes you strong. Look at your Aunt Ruth.” I nodded. “Are there any suitable brides for him?”

  “There are probably dozens but he must choose. I will not pick a bride for him. That is not our way!”

  She leaned in and kissed me hard, “And that is why I love you so! You are the truest knight in Christendom.” She took my hand and squeezed, “Come let us to our bed.”

  The next day the four of us mounted our palfreys and headed to the ferry. The river was busier these days. We had taken one of the loops out of the river and ships made the voyage from the sea half a day faster now. There were also many fishing boats supplying an increasingly large population. We had spread beyond our walls. At one time the tanneries to the north were as far as people lived. Now there were houses close to the cattle market which lay beyond the tanneries. We had not only farmers and tanners we had those who built and repaired ships. We had many smithies. In my grandfather’s day we had begun to expand our production of iron. When King John and the Bishop of Durham had imposed their taxes, it had driven some people away. Now they had returned and my town prospered.

  Seamer lay to the south of Yarm. I had a reason for choosing Seamer. In addition to Seamer I had been given the manor of Northallerton which lay further south. It was too large for Alfred. He needed to learn how to be a lord at somewhere smaller and Seamer was perfect. There was rich farmland to the south and woods for hunting and timber to the north. I had said nothing to Alfred as we rode. I let him take in the land. I smiled when I saw him looking at how it might be defended. The village lay close to a stream. There was a green on which a few animals grazed. The ground rose but there was no hall there. Stokesley lay to the south and further south still lay Whorlton. Until Sir Ralph had been made Sheriff of York it had been his home. Now Sir Peter, who had been Petr son of Ridley the Giant, was lord of the manor.

  We reined in at the green. There was a trough there for the animals. The reeve came over to speak with us. Edgar farmed the land and collected my taxes from me. He had often asked me for a lord. He did so again.

  “My lord it is good to see you. It is a pleasant day for a ride. Have you chosen a lord of the manor for Seamer yet?”

  “It is, Edgar, and all is well in the village?”

  “We prosper but not as much as we might with a lord to live here. It is good that you exert your authority lord else we might starve.”

  I nodded. His wife came over with a jug of ale and her children carried four beakers. She poured us one each. “Thank you, gammer.” I swallowed some ale and smacked my lips appreciatively. It satisfied Edgar’s wife and she shooed her children back to their home. “A lord, Edgar, would mean you had less freedom. A lord would be watching you.”

  “I wouldn’t mind that, lord. We don’t get up to much that a lord might complain about. We have little disputes and a lord would be able to settle them. They are too trivial for the Stockton assizes.” I nodded. “And we would be safer too!”

  Alfred asked, “Is there danger here?”

  “Not any more, lord. But when your father was away then we had Scots and bandits to contend with. A lord would have been some protection. We do not even have a hall!”

  I handed back the beaker. “I will think on this but I promise nothing.” Mounting my horse, I said, “And you still keep up your archery each Sunday?”

  His guilty face gave me the answer. “We try lord.”

  As we headed north, towards Thornaby Alfred asked, “Why did he say that it was good that you exerted your influence?”

  My son had grown up in Stockton where I ran the manor as my father had. Others did not do so. “You know how in Stockton we allow men to gather wood from the forests and to graze their animals?”

  “Aye and you allow them to hunt when food is scarce.”

  “Well it is not so in the rest of the country. Each lord guards his woods and forests jealously. They keep their people from the land which lies beyond their doorstep. My family has always believed that it is right for people to do so for they did it before the Normans came and my grandsire, Ridley, had grown up in such a world.”

  I saw him looking around at the land. He seemed to see, for the first time, the number of wooded areas. There were more woods than fields! “It would be an easy manor for a lord to manage but not profitable.”

  “Then you would not want it for your manor?”

  He whipped his head around. “Of course, I would! I yearn for a manor.”

  “You are a bachelor knight. Until you are wed then you cannot have a manor.”

  His enthusiasm evaporated like morning mist. “But I have no one. Who would I marry?”

  “That is your choice. Your mother and I care not save that you are happy. It is something for you to think about. I have David of Wales and Henry Youngblood choosing men at arms and archers for you but until you choose a bride then they will serve me.”

  He was silent on the way back to Stockton. I had planted the seed and I let it grow. He took to riding with his squire to speak to the other knights of the valley. He wished to seek their advice. To speak truthfully, I had much to occupy my mind in any case. Although we had scoured the land of rebellious lords and barons there were still some who were opposed to King Hen
ry. They thought him too young. Others had ulterior motives. They sought land and power. I rode a month later to York with William. This time we were accompanied by men at arms and archers.

  Sir Ralph had been my squire and was now Sheriff of York. His was a reassuring presence for I trusted him implicitly. He had married well and was related to a powerful Yorkshire baron. Part of the reason for my visit was to see if there were any suitable brides for Alfred. The ride from Stockton was a long one and we did not reach there until after dark. My name and standard were known and we were admitted quickly. Sir Ralph had rooms made up for us. Gone were the days when Sir Thomas would have to sneak around like a thief in the night and seek the most lowly of lodgings. I liked Ralph’s wife. She was an open and honest lady. I hoped that Alfred would win as fair a bride. When she left us as soon as the food was finished I became wary. Sir Ralph sent his guards hence leaving me with my son and his squire. He had something to say. He filled my goblet, “You squires go and sit by the fire. Keep your ears closed and your eyes open. When our goblets are empty fill them!”

  Sir Ralph had been a squire and knew how to speak to them. “Something is amiss, Ralph? You are acting strangely.”

  “I confess that I was on the cusp of paying you a visit lord. Your arrival was timely. You know that I take my role as Sheriff seriously?”

  “Of course.”

  “I ride abroad. Often it is beyond my area of jurisdiction. I learned from you that a good knight watches for danger.”

  I could see that he was getting somewhere but it was a little too slow for me, “Come, Ralph, we have stood side by side and faced enemies with deadlier blades than the words which are stuck in your throat.”

  He nodded, “It is Lord Hugh of Craven. You have heard of him?” I frowned and shook my head. I knew the name but not the man. “He is a powerful baron who lives south west of Barnard Castle.” He took a drink and leaned back, “You know that the Sheriff of Northumberland is also Sheriff of Cumberland?” I nodded. “Craven lies just south of his jurisdiction and just west of mine. He has abused his position. He rules that part of England like a petty warlord. The Earl of Chester does not seem to bother with his northern manors.” We both knew that the Earl of Chester was a politically minded knight. He sought power.