“What do you want to speak to him about?”
“That is the King’s business and certainly none of yours.’” He says it rather pompously.
“Please inform his majesty that we are here and most respectfully request an audience at his earliest convenience.”
The guard captain who bustles up in response to the sergeant’s shout is perplexed and clearly not quite sure how to respond or what to do.
He doesn’t know what to do when someone claiming to be an ambassador arrives and asks to see the king? This man is either very new to the job or very stupid.
We are allowed to enter the city gate through a little door cut into it. Then, after being searched for weapons and none are found, we stand in the sun by the city wall to warm ourselves while one of the guards finally hurries away to report our arrival.
Father Thomas looks on in amusement when I take advantage of the wait to pee against the wall. Then he shrugs his shoulders and does the same. Who knows when we’ll have another chance.
After a while a gray haired older man with a self-important look on his face bustles up in a highly decorated robe. Without identifying himself, he demands in Latin to know who we are and what we want.
Once again Father Thomas announces us as ambassadors from William, Admiral of the English Fleet, presently at anchor in Limassol, and here to pay homage to the king “and discuss certain matters of state and finance that might be of mutual benefit and enrichment for the King and the Admiral.” Well that got the man’s attention. I wonder who he is.
“What matters of state and finance? You must tell me about the matters you wish to discuss before you can meet with His Majesty – I am Lord Alstain, the King’s Chamberlain and head of the King’s council.” He emphasized the word ‘before.’ Ah. He wants a bribe.
“Our news is quite pleasant and we would be most pleased to share it with you, Lord Alstain, except that we are under the very strictest of orders from our liege Lord, Admiral William of England, to only share our news with the King. Your assistance in our having a successful meeting with the King would, of course, be greatly valued, particularly if we are able to establish a mutually beneficial relationship between the King and our liege lord.” We’ll pay you but only if all goes well.
A few minutes later Lord Alstain leads us into a totally empty room and tells us to wait. After he leaves a very skinny girl wearing a patched and dirty gown, undoubtedly a slave, comes in and hands each of us a bowl of very refreshing red wine. Then Father Thomas and I are left alone for hours, so long that we both need chamber pots – and can’t find them.
Finally I go to the entrance to the room and speak to the guard standing there. He doesn’t understand at first but he finally does when I pretended to pee and poop. He shouts something down the corridor. A few minutes later the same skinny girl who’d brought us the wine carries in a very smelly wooden bowl, obviously a chamber pot that someone else has recently used. It is a great relief for both of us.
About an hour later we are conducted into the presence of the king with great ceremony. The Chamberlain, for that is how Alstain titled himself to us, leads us down a long corridor and into a big room with a man sitting on an elevated chair at the other end. People, mostly men but a few surprisingly well dressed women as well, are standing on either side of the room.
Everyone seems quite curious and watches closely as we walk between them towards the sitting man. He is undoubtedly King Guy.
We can see everyone because the room is lit by the sun coming through some kind of clear glass that covers the wall openings just like it does in one of the churches I visited in Damascus with the Bishop.
Ah, and there is the pudgy young French knight who is the governor of Limassol. Well that explains why we haven’t heard from him for a while. Perhaps he’s been recalled or is here asking for instructions.
I walk somewhat behind Father Thomas with my eyes down and copy him when he bows and prostrates himself on his belly in front of the king. I’ve never seen a king before. But this poor fellow must be very insecure for he seems quite pleased by our extremely submissive behavior.
We scramble to our feet and stand as supplicants with our heads down when the King motions for us to stand up. I can see him out of the corner of my eye. He looks to be a rather tall good looking man of middle age wearing some kind of gold band around his head.
“I am told you wish to speak with us.” Us? He speaks in French.
“Your esteemed Royal Highness and Majesty,” Father Thomas explains in French after we jump to our feet, “I am Father Thomas, the head priest of the English navy, and I am here as the ambassador of my liege lord, Admiral William of England, to pay homage and be submissive to you in his name.”
“As you may know, Your Esteemed Majesty, Admiral William’s ships have been rescuing people fleeing the Saracens and carrying those with coins and jewels to Limassol. I am happy to report that many of the refugees are spending their coins in Limassol so as to enrich that city’s merchants and enhance the ability of Your Esteemed Majesty’s governor to collect taxes from them.”
“I am also happy to report to Your Majesty that my lord, Admiral William, and his men are further enriching Your Esteemed Majesty’s kingdom by spending the money they are paid by the refugees to buy supplies from your merchants and to fix up ruined buildings to shelter themselves and the refugees.”
The king nods.
“Yes we have heard of these good things about the Lord Admiral and we welcome him to our realm.”
“Thank you Your Esteemed Majesty, God will surely bless you.”
Now comes the tricky part.
“Ahem,” Father Thomas continues after clearing his throat.
“As you are undoubtedly aware, Your Esteemed Majesty, Richard of England is missing. This has caused unexpected problems both for My Lord Admiral and for the humble priests such as me who serve him and his men and all Christians on the seas and oceans. It seems, quite unfortunately, that missing with Richard and his court are the patents of nobility from a Christian king that my Lord Admiral needs to impress the local lords when his ships dock in heathen ports to retrieve their refugees and carry them to safety. Indeed, I myself am missing the appointment letters as the Bishop of Bekka that were being carried by Richard’s Papal Nuncio.”
“I see. Yes, I can see how that might make things difficult,” the King says nodding. I’m glad he sees; I don’t.
“It would mean a great deal to my Lord Admiral, and Christians everywhere, and to me and the Pope and the church as well,” Father Thomas replies, “if Your Illustrious Majesty would use his kingly powers to help rectify the problems caused by King Richard’s disappearance.”
Then Father Thomas explains what he wants.
“As I’m sure you know, Your Majesty, Admiral William has set aside three hundred gold coins, bezants from Constantinople, to cover the expenses of recovering the documents from King Richard’s court. I’m sure he’d be willing to use them to cover any expenses that you as a king with the same powers as Richard might bear in providing suitable alternatives - so that Admiral William’s efforts to assist Christian pilgrims might occur more quickly and have a better outcome. Similarly available, of course, are the one hundred gold coins my lord has set aside for recovering or replacing the documents related to my appointment as the Bishop of Bekka.” We’ll bribe you.
The king ponders for a moment, looks a bit confused, and then glances at his Chamberlain who nods. Then the king comes through for us.
“Rest assured, good priest. We are always willing to take steps to help the church and good Christians such as you and the Lord Admiral.” I’m willing to make a deal.
“Your Majesty’s generosity and goodness is so well known and so greatly appreciated, and the need of the Church and the Christian refugees is so great and immediate, that I took the liberty of preparing the necessary documents for Your Highness’s consideration and seal, as well as those for your papal nuncio’s seal for matter
s related to the English fleet.”
With that Father Thomas falls again on his knees and puts his forehead of the stone floor as he holds out the two parchment rolls I had scribed, not to the King, of course, but to the side for one of the courtiers to take and carry to the King. I, of course, fall to my knees and copy him. How strange. The weather’s fairly warm today but the stones feel cold as ice.
We bow continuously and profusely as we back out of the King’s presence. The King’s Chamberlain, Lord Alstain, backs out with us and, once outside and out of earshot of the King’s courtiers, enthusiastically congratulates Father Thomas on doing such a good job of handling the king. He suggests that he will let us know when the documents are signed and sealed, but that he will need to convince the king so that there might be a delay of a few days. It will only happen if I get paid.
Father Thomas responds that we would greatly value the Chamberlain’s assistance. He informs Lord Alstain that we will return to Limasol and await the King’s decision. Then he very carefully adds that, since the coins are dispersed and never kept in Limasol, we will gather up the gold coins and convey them under an extremely heavy guard to the king as soon as we hear from him - “and, of course, with some for you at the same time to cover the expenses of your assistance.” You will get paid when we get the documents.
The two men smile at each other.
Father Thomas and I talk quietly as one of the King’s servants leads us to the city gate.
“Will the King really put his seal to them? Is it possible?” I ask.
“Oh I should think so. The king needs money, lots of money, to regain the throne of Jerusalem which is the throne he really wants. And he’s obviously comfortable with the buying and selling of titles since he bought Cyprus from the Templars; and he’s probably a bit short of money at the moment since the Templars no doubt took him for all he had. They’re greedy little buggers you know, in addition to being good soldiers and filthy because they proudly never wash themselves or their clothes – got it in their minds that Jesus never washed, don’t they?”
Chapter Nine
“WILLIAM’S ADVANCEMENT”
“Did he go for it?” Those are the first words a very anxious and very hot and sweaty William asks Father Thomas as we approach him in the courtyard where he is watching the master joiner sway a trimmed log into place. It will be part of a barracks and stable being built along the far side of the inner wall.
Some of the stalls will be used for our horses; some for our fighting men and the families they will inevitably form if we stay here very long. It will replace the current sail-covered shelter, hopefully before it blows away again as it did in the storm several nights ago.
“I think so,” Father Thomas answers. “But we won’t know for sure until we get the word. So tell me little brother, how is our George and what has happened since we left?”
“George is up the stairs taking a nap. He’s fine. Eating like a horse as always, isn’t he?”
Then with a big and triumphant smile William makes an announcement.
“The big news I have, Brother Dear, is that we have received this very morning an offer from Aaron and the Limassol merchants to buy both of our cogs and the cargo of olive oil and grain in the one we captured.”
William says it with a big smile as he rubs his fingers together to indicate a merchant counting coins.
“It seems,” William continues, “that Aaron and a group of the local merchants want to buy both cogs, put an additional cargo of oil and grain in the empty one we bought off the poxed captain, and pay us to convoy both of the cogs to Alexandria with our three galleys acting as their guards.
Then he tells us all about it.
“They started by offering two hundred Damascus gold bezants; we reached an agreement two hours ago for three hundred and twenty. Half of them are already upstairs in the chests. We get the rest when we’re ready to sail - and, if you can believe it, they’ll take all the risk of pirates so long as our men are on board the cogs and our galleys convoy them.”
William is obviously very pleased with himself and, it appears, rightly so. We’re going to need another chest.
“Do we have enough men to crew two cogs and three galleys and still leave enough good men here with you to guard this place and my son?” William asks with a sigh.
Then he answers his own question.
“No. Not by half. So long as the coins and the boy are here we’ll always need to have a hundred or more of our best men guarding them including most of the English archers and the most dependable of our other men. That means we’ll need to recruit another couple of hundred fighting men for our company and, if we can find enough bows, apprentice some of them to train to be archers.”
“You’re right William,” Father Thomas agrees. “We’ll have to scour Cyprus for men and weapons, and you’ll probably have to make another trip to Latika, or maybe even Acre, to recruit more men and paying passengers before we can risk a voyage to Alexandria with the cogs.”
“Well that might work. We can look for men and try to buy weapons while we wait to hear what the King does about the documents.”
And that’s what we decide to do. And I was quite pleased when they ask for my opinion so I could agree with them.
@@@@@
William stands with his brother and me at the gate the next morning as we watch small recruiting parties of our men walk out of our bustling camp. They are heading for each of Cyprus’s five other cities. Their job is to encourage men to come to Limassol and apply to join our company.
Our recruiters will, we hope, evaluate the abilities of the men before they encourage them to come and apply. That’s why each of the recruiting parties is commanded by one of the English archer sergeants and includes one or more of our brighter and more experienced men at arms as his second, his chosen man or corporal as the French are now calling them.
More specifically, each of our recruiting parties is to encourage all the fit and experienced archers and men at arms they can find to come to Limassol and apply to join our company. They’ve been told to particularly look for men who already have their own weapons since they’re the ones most likely to know how to use them.
They are also to pass the word to the local merchants that we will soon be sending an agent to buy bows, arrows, and swords if they are of good quality and the prices are reasonable.
Experienced men who come to Limassol, if and only if they are approved by William, will be allowed to make their mark on the company’s contract and get the same food and one gold coin per year as everyone else. The recruiting parties are also to recruit strong young men on a food and clothing basis for training as apprentice archers, particularly those with good legs, good eyesight, and arms that might, with practice, become strong enough to pull an English archer’s long bow.
Before our recruiters leave there are enough questions to make my head spin.
“And what if they have women and want to bring them?” asks Simon, one of the archer sergeants, a bearded Englishman from Surrey with a particularly fine long bow.
William and Thomas just look at each other. Finally William makes a decision.
“The experienced men who bring their own weapons can also bring their women; we’ll feed them if they’ll work at our camp in the kitchen or fletching arrows or on the walls. The women of those who wish to join us as apprentice archers will have to wait at home until we see if their men work out.”
“Knights?” one of the other sergeants asked. “What do we do if a knight wants to join us, William?”
“You know better than that, Archie,” is William reply with a touch of exasperation in his voice. “No knights; it’s in our contract.”
That’s not surprising; according to Randolph they are often too arrogant to take orders from common archers and often don’t get along very well with others.
“How soon will we have someone in the markets to buy weapons and how much will we pay?”
“That’s a goo
d question, Henry, a very good question. We’ll start buying rather quickly. The next week or two I should think.”
I hope it will be me who does the buying. Then maybe I can stay here and take care of Lena and Aria instead of going on the next voyage.
“Slaves? What about slaves and serfs, William? Should we offer to buy any if they look good?”
“You can bring in any serfs that look good and want to run but we’re not buying any slaves, Simon. Never. And don’t sign up any who approach you about running away to join us - unless they’re British.”
“British slaves are different, of course. Always inquire about them as you talk to people. Let it be known that we always reward people who tell us about British Slaves and we always, absolutely always, kill or cut the balls and dingles off anyone who owns them or mistreats them. But don’t take chances. Come back if you hear of any and we’ll all go together to bring them in.”
@@@@@
After we watch our recruiting parties depart William turns to young George and asks him if he’d like to go with him out to our ships while he tells Randolph and the sergeant captains and men on the ships what to do if any serfs and slaves show up.
“Yo, George; would you like to go with me and Yoram out to the ships while I visit with Randolph to make sure our sailors are okay and talk to him about stuff? And then we’ll go to the market to visit Aaron the merchant.”
“You remember Aaron don’t you, George? He’s the nice man who brought you an apple and let you ride on his shoulders when he came to visit a couple of days ago.”
George is quite enthusiastic about visiting the ships so we all walk down to the beach with to visit Randolph and his men. A couple of our ships’ dinghies are pulled up on the sand so we don’t even have to hail the ships to have someone row in to get us.
Randolph and his sergeant captains see us coming and are waiting expectantly as we climb aboard the nearest galley.
“How are things going, Randolph?”
The Archer: Historical Fiction: exciting novel about Marines and Naval Warfare of medieval England set in feudal times with knights,Templars, and crusaders during Richard the lionhearted's reign Page 8