Hoodsman: Courtesans and Exiles

by Smith, Skye

  "So you will not fight the Normans anymore, because you fear the result will be more harrowings," Raynar whispered. "So be it. But why surrender to them? This is a big world and there are kingdoms aplenty. Even in France there are counties that fighting William and his kind, and they could use your help. You are well known in France because you commanded the fortress at Montreuil."

  "The fates are against me," Edgar replied, "and they shine on William. I am accursed. If I board your ship, I fear my fates will sink it. The next time I will not swim. I will suck in the sea and meet my fates."

  "My ship, with me at the tiller, will not sink. It will fly on wind and oar before your enemies and your fates. William is not in England, he is in Caen. If you ride overland, you will be killed before you reach the Manche. If you come with me, I will take you first to Flanders and Montreuil where you can discuss this with your peers, and then if you still wish it, I will take you and any that wish to go with you, to Caen."

  "Waltheof will not let me go to Flanders," whispered Edgar, "he has sworn to the new Bishop of Durham that he will hold me for William."

  "Then we will take Waltheof with us. He is also your peer."

  "He is also the last English Earl," replied Edgar, "or rather, the last Daneglish Earl. He must hold that favour else all is lost to the Normans. Do you realize that there is only one English bishop left, the last Daneglish bishop? Wulfstan in Worcester. The last Earl. The last Bishop. How did this happen? Oh however did this happen?"

  Raynar wanted to shout out in frustration words such as, "One stupid decision after another by nobles that refused to use bowmen, or to ambush horses," but he bit his lip. It was lucky that Edgar could not see the anger in his face with it hidden deep inside the cowl. The silence became embarrassingly long, but he could not trust himself to speak.

  A tall and comely Frisian woman brought them wine and they pulled back into their hoods. They both knew her from Beatrice's manor, but neither said anything to her, as she may have recognized their voices. There was still much coming and going at Waltheof's table, so Raynar picked up the jug of wine and a long loaf of bread and led Edgar to his small private room next to Beatrice's quarters. He shut the door, slid the bolt, and lit four candle lamps and finally they could remove their habits and see each other.

  Raynar stared at Edgar in shock. Edgar was perhaps two or three years younger than him, but he looked ten years older. "The last shipwreck took its toll on your health then?"

  "Not the shipwreck itself, but the flight by land back to Scotland. It was horrible. That once wealthy coast of fishermen and dairymen is now an empty wasteland save for roaming bands of hungry youth that live like animals. I lost much weight in flesh and fat, and I have yet to regain it because I had the water sickness for so long."

  Raynar told him to sit, and then he made his own check of the man's health. It took some time, and the only conversing was to ask and answer simple questions about pains or appetite. "No wonder you sound so down on life," he said. "It is normal after the water sickness to be weak and weak of spirit. You need to drink a salty liver broth rather than this wine, but that will have to wait until Judith or Beatrice seeks us out. The kitchen staff would know me immediately if I gave them such an order."

  * * * * *

  It turned out that Edgar and Raynar were each other's own best company over the next week. One reason, of course, was that they were both hiding in plain sight. The other was that both Thorold and Waltheof had been absent from the Fens for a few months and once their presence was known, men from three shires sought them out. This meant that not only were the lords busy, but so were their wives.

  Just as the number of new petitions was lessening, another visitor arrived and again everyone was busy. It was Ralph of Gael, the Earl of East Anglia. Despite being an earl, he was Breton, not a Norman. Besides East Anglia, he also had many honors in Bretagne. He had been forced by foul winds to sail wide of the Anglian coastline and make for shelter in Lynn. In Lynn he was told that Waltheof had returned from the north so he had chartered a river boat to bring him to visit.

  The farmers and merchants who had waited patiently for their petitions to be heard were immediately sent back to the burg so that Ralph could be greeted. The two monks heard the commotion and made their way to the great hall to find out its cause. Ralph had the same look and coloring of many of Raynar's friends in Wales and he idly wondered if there were blood connections between Wales and Bretagne. He looked older than thirty, perhaps thirty-five, but he did not yet have the belly paunch of other middle-aged nobles.

  Edgar whispered some of Ralph's history into his ear. Ralph's father had held honors in both Bretagne and England, and Ralph had been born on a visit to England. The father had stayed neutral in '66, whereas Ralph had fought for the Conqueror at Hastings road, thus first the father and now the son had been granted the earldom.

  It surprised them both that someone so esteemed by the Conqueror should be so openly critical of him in the company of strangers. "What did he expect?" Ralph said of William, "after he so foully harrowed Maine. Were we to allow him to move on and do the same to Bretagne? Should he be surprised that we would gather our forces in Dol to stop his carrion army?" He was quenching his thirst a cupful at a time, and the serving maid with the jug of wine was hovering behind him.

  "You fought William's army," asked Waltheof, "and you won?"

  "We didn't win. Well, we did win because we turned them back, but there was no grand battle, and there were few casualties on either side. They came to Bretagne, they found their way blocked, and they turned back towards Normandy. Now I hear that the Norman bishops covet my honors in Anglia and counsel him to be rid of all traitorous Bretons. Bretagne has its own duke. How can we be traitors to Normandy when we have our own duke?"

  Raynar spoke up from deep within his cowl. "In Paris there are many such stories reaching Philippe’s ears. There is great confusion of vassal oaths because the Duke of Normandy is also the King of the English. Philippe has asked William to make his eldest son Robert the duke, so there will be a separation of fealty."

  "I would support that," replied Ralph, giving the monk a fleeting look.

  "So would most that are caught between Philippe and William," said Waltheof, "but William has already responded to Philippe that he will divide the thrones between two of his sons on his death bed, and not before."

  "Another good reason to kill the bastard," Raynar thought to himself, "and soon."

  "Bah," replied Ralph, "these bishop-princes make it worse. None of them are clerics, they are warriors. Lefranc is William's archbishop, not Rome's. He always approves William's choice of warriors for Bishops and Abbots, and now his bishops have armed garrisons that are a match to any noble family."

  Ralph swallowed hugely, and sighed and looked up and saw the comely wine maiden clearly for perhaps the first time. As she stooped to refill his cup, he whispered something into her ear. She moved away from him quickly, as if other cups needed refilling.

  "It takes little pondering to see through William's plan," Ralph continued. "The offices of Bishop and Abbot and Sheriff are not hereditary. If he replaces the hereditary nobles with such officers, he can control this entire kingdom despite the barons. In Normandy, the noble families that do not support his claim of duke have schemed against him for twenty years, but are still protected from him by their hereditary rights. With the honors held by Bishops, hereditary rights will never foil him in such a way here in England."

  There was an embarrassed silence in the room. Few lords in England dared to openly criticize William, or even to listen to such criticism from others. Raynar wondered if Ralph realized that Judith was William's niece. Obviously from his words, he did not, or he did not care. "He has a precedent, you know, in England," said Raynar with steel in his tone. "He has already ignored the hereditary rights of the Danish nobles. Those that disagreed with him are now dead."

  Waltheof interrupted, "You are foolish to speak so against your king, R
alph. You are even more foolish to speak against the bishops. Odo and Montbray are both bishops and are both regents in William's absence. Their agents have been known to silence dissent with daggers." He cast a wary eye to Judith.

  Raynar caught the intensity of the look between Waltheof and Judith, and for the first time wondered if perhaps she was not William's spy, but Odo's.

  "Well warned," Ralph grumbled. "It was not my intent to rail so, but you see ... well. It was not true that I was swept into the Wash by foul winds. I was chased away from my own port at Yarmouth by a squadron of longships. At the time I thought they were sent by William, but of course they are more likely to have been sent by Odo."

  Ralph stood and moved towards Judith and bowed. "My true mission here is to invite you to my wedding. I will wed Emma of Hereford on her sixteenth birthday and thus join my family to the FitzOsberns. Her brother Roger, the Earl of Hereford, will attend me at Norwich to give her away."

  Though women, as a rule, are joyous at the news of an upcoming wedding, Judith's face was glum. "Sixteen is too young, sir. For her sake wait at least another year." She stared meaningfully at Waltheof.

  "I cannot wait, lady," Ralph replied, "for I desperately need a son and heir if heredity is to become an issue."

  "What is it with you men?" Judith sighed. "There is more to a woman than just a womb to be owned. If you want a son so badly, there are many comely wenches about who would be pleased to carry one for you."

  "But he would be a bastard," replied Ralph, unsure whether she was jesting or not.

  "As is the king, my uncle, a bastard," stated Judith.

  "I did not mean it like that, lady." Ralph was suddenly standing very stiff and erect. "The lands of Roger, of myself, and of your husband stretch across this kingdom from east to west. We separate the north from the south. My son by Emma will be a bond to secure them."

  "You hint that you think my husband chose badly in a wife. Perhaps he should have chosen Roger's other sister. Then between the three of you, you could form your own kingdom."

  "Not quite, lady, for Bishop Wulfstan holds Worcester which would still divide us. Of course Wulfstan is a true clerical bishop, not one of these new bishop-princes. He could not stand against us." Ralph glanced at his audience and saw the look of shock on their faces. "I think I have said too much. It is the wine. I have had too much." He sat and was quiet.

  "I would be pleased to attend Emma at her wedding," said Judith with a curtsey, and then she sat and was quiet also. Beatrice came and sat beside her, close beside her so that their bodies touched.

  The wine maid came up close behind Ralph and for a moment Raynar though she was about to pour the wine over the man's head, but instead she filled his cup again and then backed smartly away from his rude hand.

  Ralph and his escort of knights and archers were given the use of a longhouse at the bottom of the motte. By the time the evening meal was completed, he had to be carried there by his men. He left late the next morning, but not to return to his ships at Lynn. Those were better used to ply the Flanders trade since they were at Lynn in any case. Ralph borrowed horses and set out to ride to Norwich.

  As they left, Waltheof, Thorold, Edgar, and Raynar watched from the tower where they would not be disturbed by women and the comings and goings of the great hall. "So, are any of you coming with me to this wedding?" asked Waltheof.

  "I doubt the bride would welcome one of the men who killed her father at Cassel," replied Raynar. Who knows, he thought to himself, perhaps she would. He was an evil bloody bastard, so no folk from the border of Wales would have wept at his grave. "I still have a small chest of wedding jewels that his last wife, Rachilde, refuses to claim. Perhaps I should look through them for something his daughter would like."

  "I did not know that," said Waltheof slowly. "So that is what you did for Robert of Flanders. No wonder he favours you so."

  Edgar laughed aloud, "Walt, you don't know the half of it. You cannot even imagine. No one knows half of Ray's deeds. Well, perhaps Thor here, and of course Hereward."

  "Shh, Edgar," said Raynar, "I take no pride in killing, and I only choose killing to save other lives. Killing FitzOsbern and several handfuls of knights on that day saved thousands of lives. Of all of the skirmishes of the battle for Cassel, my only pride is from blocking Philippe’s army from relieving the siege. Few were injured for such a huge effect."

  Waltheof interrupted, "There were not thousands of knights at that battle, so how could you have saved them?"

  Edgar would not be quiet. "He said thousands of lives, not thousands of knights. He cares for the lives of the folk, not of the lords." He walked over to stand next to Raynar. They both looked out across the land, both with their cowls pulled forward.

  "Here, look at us both." Edgar said to Waltheof. "Can you tell us apart? I was born a prince and for a few days was a king. Ray was born a pauper to a cripple in a sheep’s pen. Yet I have never won a battle, while he has won countless. I have leaked coins like a holed bucket, while he has earned a fleet of ships. I am on my way to kiss William's fat ass, whereas were I of Ray's mettle, I would shove my dagger up it instead."

  Waltheof grumbled something to himself. Thorold continued to watch the dust raised by Ralph's horses. "Be cautious at the wedding, Walt," he warned, "Ralph let too much slip by his lips yesterday. He has a plan afoot that is fraught with risk. If you join, it will be all your risk. Both Ralph and Roger have estates in France to retreat to. Without your estates in England, you are nothing. You would just be yet another homeless English exile."

  "These are strange words from one always so critical that the English earls never helped each other to finish the Normans. That they would refuse to commit, hoping that the others would pay the cost, so they could survive to reap the win. If Cospatrick and I had stopped our kin from feuding and had stood together, William and his army would be in shallow graves along the Tees today. Perhaps Ralph will give us another chance to finish William."

  "Roger and Ralph are not English earls, but you are. You are the last," replied Thorold. "You have little to gain, and too much to lose by taking sides when Normans battle Normans. Stay out of it, at least until one side or both sides are weakened."

  "Walt, if there is rebellion in the wind," said Edgar, "then I fear I am just adding to your danger. Raynar has offered to take me by ship to Caen. I will leave with him."

  "No!" Waltheof was quick to cry out. "I was to deliver you to William. If you go with Raynar and do not arrive at court, then I will be blamed."

  "Not so much blame as if you took me to court and then I shoved a dagger up his ass," replied Edgar softly.

  Waltheof had trouble catching his breath.

  "He is jesting, Walt," said Thorold while slapping the earl on his back. "William will offer him a daughter and an earldom and then there will be two English earls."

  "Edwin got a knife in the back," said Edgar.

  "That was Odo's doing," corrected Thorold.

  "Morcar is in chains."

  "Morcar is the vengeful brother. William is simply protecting his own back."

  "Raynar, do you swear that you will take him to William?" asked Waltheof.

  "I swear that I will take him wherever he wants to go and help him do whatever he decides to do."

  "That is not the oath I asked for," growled Waltheof.

  "It will have to do," replied Raynar.

  There was a long pause. Eventually Waltheof said, "So be it."

  "Tell me Walt, is there time enough before this wedding for you to take Judy to Brugge and to Paris?" asked Raynar, "Such a trip could save your marriage."

  "Not enough time," replied Waltheof, "and besides, William would not take kindly to my cavorting with his enemies there."

  "Go anyway," interrupted Thorold, "I'd rather you be seen in Paris than be seen in Norwich. Don't go to this wedding, man. Ray has given you an option that Judith will leap at."

  "I can promise you invitations to both palaces," offered Raynar
.

  Waltheof looked hard at Raynar, wondering how a peasant could promise him an invitation to the court in Paris after he had done such a disservice to the King of France by thwarting his march to Cassel.

  Thorold began to laugh. "Why do I have this vision of Ray taking both our wives to Paris and me having to dance with you in Norwich?"

  "You think Judith would enjoy Brugge and Paris that much?" asked Waltheof.

  Now it was Raynar's turn to laugh, "Make it her decision, Paris or wedding. You have a day to tell me the answer before I throw this monk's robe into the sea."

  When they finally left the tower, Raynar walked down to the docks beside the bridge and found the eeler who had brought him and told him to make ready for the return journey.

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  The Hoodsman - Courtesans and Exiles by Skye Smith

  Chapter 31 - Taking Edgar to Montreuil sur Mer in September 1074

  "I can't believe that Judith turned down a trip to Paris," mused Edgar from deep within his cowl. He was sitting next to Raynar in the center of the punt, with an eelman on the pole and a very serious-looking bowman sitting in the bow.

  "I was hoping she would choose Paris. Choosing to attend the wedding proves that she is a Norman spy. Now I just need to know if she is William's spy or Odo's."

  "That you may never know," replied Edgar.

  "On the contrary," Raynar said, "we will know around the next bend in this river."

  The punt glided around the next bend and all could see the charred wreckage of Aldreth bailey, and then emerged the black skeleton of all that was left of the bridge. "Get down," came the order from the bow, "and stay down."

  Raynar pushed Edgar to the floor and then lay beside him, but then popped his head up to see over the low gunnels. There were men on both banks. Six or seven on each. Normans. Arbalesters. The first bolt could have been deadly but it bounced off the gunnels beside Raynar’s head.