by Griff Hosker
“Then move back to our camp and we will follow.”
I had just twelve men at arms with me. We watched the sorry convoy of cattle and captives as they headed the last mile to the place we would defend. I was about to give the order to move when Henry Youngblood shouted, “Scots my lord!”
I turned and saw movement in the distance. I decided to take a chance. Our cloaks were light in colour and the light was fading. We might be hidden if we did not move. “Hide near a tree. When they come close we attack quickly and then retire to the others.”
None questioned my judgement and all obeyed. I was lucky. I had a huge fir tree before me. The snow made it even bigger I slid my sword from my scabbard and listened. I heard horses and Scottish voices.
“Lord, I have their trail.”
“And I!”
“Then there are two bands. This is not a little raid! I want their leader a prisoner when we catch them. I will roast him alive!”
The first two voices had been closer to me. Their lord sounded further away. They were scouts and we would take those. I could hear their horses as they stepped into the soft snow. I heard their breath and those of their riders. It was Henry who drew first blood. I heard the sound of a sword and then there was a scream. I spurred Skuld and the Scot suddenly saw me to his left. I stood in the stirrups and brought down my sword upon his head.
“Ambush!”
“Fall back!” I saw, as I pointed my sword that my men had slain or wounded six. The rest were thirty paces from us and the dead men and horses were between us and Alexander of Hawick. We galloped through the trees with the warband in hot pursuit. We had a mile to travel and we covered the ground quickly. We knew where we were going and the Scots did not. Their leader had them in a line to stop us escaping. It allowed us to build up a lead which I had no intention of losing. David of Wales had left a gap for us to use and we charged through it. The Scots were just forty paces behind us. As we did I heard the bows of my archers as they sent arrow after arrow into the charging Scots. I dismounted and slapped Skuld. I drew my dagger and ran to the logs.
The gap still remained but Ridley the Giant was already there. Swinging his two-handed sword, he hacked through the chest of the leading horse. The rider was thrown and landed two paces from me. I was not sure if he was dead or alive. I made certain that he was dead and then I joined Ridley. It was our archers who won the battle for us. The Scots wore no mail and my archers’ arrows could penetrate any protection a warrior might wear, even mail.
As darkness descended I heard Alexander of Hawick shout, “Fall back and reform!”
While my men rebuilt the log barrier I turned, “Did we lose any men?”
Ridley said, “Two of mine were wounded that is all.”
“We stay here this night. One man in two will keep watch. Fótr, relieve me in a couple of hours.”
“Aye lord.”
I took off my helmet and handed it to Petr. “I will get us some food, lord.” We had left food there when we had gone to raid Hawick. It would be cold but still welcome.
As if reading my thoughts Gruffyd ap Tomas shouted, “I will get a fire going, lord. There are bairns here who are freezing. The Scots know where we are.”
I saw that we had men who were watching the trees. I sheathed my sword and walked over to Ranulf and his family. His wife dropped to her knees and began kissing my hand. “Lord, you are a saint!”
“Rise, gammer, it was the Christian thing to do.” I looked at the two girls. The elder and her father had their arms around the younger one who was sobbing. “How are the girls?”
The elder one said, “Sarah is still upset. One of the men you slew in the hall had promised to take her while his lord was away. Had you not come…”
I nodded, “We will keep you safe now. My men will watch over you.”
Ranulf nodded, “Thank you lord. All that they say of you is true. It was lucky you were in York.”
“Aye, it was.” As I went back to the log barricade I wondered at that. Would the captives have been rescued? It was unlikely. If we had had a Sheriff upon whom the people could rely or a Bishop then perhaps but we now had lords in the north who served themselves. We had peace but the people did not enjoy that peace. I was too far away to be an influence. Perhaps some higher force had been at work and sent me to York. As I watched, into the night, I wondered what the effect of the captivity would be on the two girls.
My reverie was interrupted when David of Wales gave a low whistle. There was danger. I drew sword and dagger and I waited. I felt Petr step closer to me to watch my back. I could hear his breathing. Stillness was a weapon in the dark of night. Shadows showed more clearly against the white snow. All of my sentries knew how to use swords and we still had mail. Even so the Scottish killer who crept close to me was almost upon before me I knew he was there. It was his smell which alerted me. He stank of rancid grease and dung. Almost without thinking I whipped my sword across and down. I was rewarded by the crunch of metal on bone as my sword drove into his skull.
This was bandit work and any other men at arms and archers might have been at a disadvantage but mine were well trained. More than that they had all fought in wars covering many countries and there was no trick that was new to them. The cries and groans of the dying were all that we heard.
A Scottish voice said, quietly, “Are they dead yet?”
He was answered with a slit throat as one of my archers ended another killer’s life. David of Wales shouted, “Your killers are dead Scotsmen. Shall we come for you?”
We heard scampering as the ones we had not slain fled. We were vigilant and they did not like that. We had been saved by mail. Their blades had edges and not points. They were useless against mail.
Fótr appeared at my side, “Lord?”
“I am awake. Get some sleep, take Petr with you.”
I would sleep when I reached Stockton. Excitement coursed through my veins. If I laid down then sleep would not come. My men had a fire going and they had food cooking all night. I walked to the fire to warm myself not long before dawn. To my surprise I saw that Fótr and Petr had not gone to bed. They were talking with Sarah and Maud. My knight and squire had their cloaks around the shoulders of the two girls and they were tucked against the wall of a hut. I did not disturb them. They were young and the two girls were smiling. Sarah had been tearful when last I had seen her. Whatever Petr had said to her had made her stop crying. I took a bowl of the stew back to the barrier. Ridley the Giant had relieved Henry Youngblood.
“You can sleep, lord. I will watch but I do not think that they will try an attack again.”
“I know Ridley but I cannot sleep. Besides your son is becoming close to one of the captives, Sarah.”
He smiled, “She is pretty. He has his father’s eye for a fair woman, lord. Perhaps this is meant to be. If they choose each other then she will be safer in Stockton than here and my son needs to spill his seed.”
It was not the way my wife would have spoken but Ridley was a plain-speaking warrior and he was right. Petr was old enough to be wed. Many lords did not allow their squires to marry. I was not so precious. If this was a true joining of spirits then I would not stand in their way. Perhaps Fótr was close to ending his days as a bachelor knight.
As dawn broke it became obvious that the Scots had departed. I sent my men into the forest to collect anything of value and to make certain that they had gone. We collected little of value. The treasure had been the captives. We had recaptured all of the Matfen folk and ten others besides. We would return them to their families. As we headed south, through an icy, white world, I felt content. In the grand scheme of things this meant little. If King John or the Sheriff of Newcastle knew then they would barely register the fact. To me it was the most important thing I had done in a while. When it became obvious that Fótr had overcome his infatuation with Eleanor, Fair Maid of Brittany, then I knew that I had been meant to visit with the Archbishop. Our meeting had been his last act. It seemed
fitting that two young lives had been saved and four young people found happiness. I was content.
Chapter 3
Squire’s quest
The winter was a harsh one. The snows we had encountered close to the border had encroached south. It seemed to stop at the Tees but that did not help us. We had barely made it home before another round of blizzards and winter storms struck. Movement was almost impossible. We were well prepared in the valley. I had made certain that my reeves had organised the farmers well and we had food stored. It was the animals who were in the greatest danger. I authorised the use of oats and barley for feed. We slaughtered some of the older cows and we prayed for the snow to stop. It did, on St. Stephen’s Day. My men at arms and archers took the opportunity to clear some of the snow from the common so that our horses could graze and exercise. Fishermen took to their boats to reap some of the bounty from the river. It was a pause in winter’s war. When a truce came we used it well. I rode, with Petr as far as the Oxbridge to make certain that none had perished during the storms. All were well. When we went to church, we thanked God that none had been taken by the cold.
As was typical of our valley the storms ceased and was followed by a week of ice and freezing temperatures. Aunt Ruth felt it more than most. She was old. We ensured that the fires in the castle were kept lit. We had wood that we had copsed in the autumn. Alfred and the squires went with Petr to cut down more firewood from the woods. We were using our store up quickly and the newly cut wood would need to dry out. My son was growing. He understood the need to do things which were not knightly. Petr had told him of the scenes we had seen in Hawick. He saw that there were knights who were not honourable. We had not managed to slay Alexander of Hawick and he would rear his head again. Beasts like Alexander had the knack of surviving however it would take him time to replace the many men we had killed. With twenty of his horses captured he would not be as mobile as he had once been.
Fótr and Petr both came to see me a month after we had rescued the captives. Petr had visited with Fótr on more than one occasion. It was no surprise. They had been squires together and had much in common. Fótr and Petr’s mother shared a language and a heritage. Fótr spoke first, “Lord we would ask you permission to ride to Matfen when the roads are clear.”
“That may not be for some time. The thaw is many moons away.”
My knight nodded, “Aye lord and that is why we ask permission now. As soon as the roads are passable we would venture north.”
I nodded. I knew the reason but I had to ask, “And why do you wish to return to Matfen? It is a long way just to see the new grass grow.”
“Lord I know that I only saw Maud briefly; I spent barely three days in her company but I know that she is the one who will be my bride. I thought I loved Eleanor Fair Maid of Brittany but I see now that was infatuation.”
“And this is different? How do you know?” I remembered the half heart that the royal captive had given to Fótr when he had been my squire.
“I am older and this time Maud has shown me that she returns my love.”
“In three days you know this?”
“As I recall lord, you and Lady Margaret knew in an even shorter time and in similar circumstances.”
I nodded he was right. “And you Petr, are your reasons the same?”
“Sarah is young, lord, I know that but she is older than the bride that King John took. She was frightened and fey. That night when I put my cloak and arms around her she took comfort in my presence. When we parted at her father’s farm she was tearful.”
“They are not grounds for marriage, Petr and besides, you are a squire. You cannot marry. You either become a knight or leave my service.”
“I know lord. I would be a knight but if I was not able to do so then I would leave your service.” He shook his head, “However reluctantly that might be. That is the strength of my feeling lord. My father was a man at arms and I would serve you in that capacity if I had to.”
I knew then that this was more than just an infatuation. “And your purpose in riding to Matfen is?”
“Fótr said, “I go to ask for Maud’s hand and Petr asks for Sarah to live with his mother in their home until his position and situation are resolved.” He smiled, “I think this would suit your son, lord for it would allow him to become your squire and it would fit in with lady Margaret’s wish for him to wait another year to begin training.”
Petr nodded, “It is, lord, as my mother might say, wyrd.”
“That is not Christian, Petr but I can see it in these events. And would you become a knight?”
“I did not think I wished to be a knight lord. Learning to write, speak languages were bad enough but with fingers like these the playing of the rote would seem impossible.”
I knew what he meant. The rote had but four strings yet they were so close together as to make its use a precise art. I had not picked one up since before Arsuf and I am not certain that I would have been knighted if the playing of the rote had been a requirement. However, the fact that he was willing to learn showed the depth of feeling. “I daresay that my son will help you. Especially as this might hasten his progression to squire. You have my permission but that also depends upon Ranulf. He may not wish to lose his daughters.”
Fótr nodded, “Aye lord. This is not a foregone conclusion. We both know that. This is our quest. We have both prayed to God. If Maud’s father rejects my suit then I know that I am not worthy and I will endeavour to become a better knight.”
When I told my wife, she was not surprised. “There are few girls in Stockton whom they could court. From what you say although their father is a farmer his family have connections. This Godfrey of Beverley has the ear of the Archbishop. I just worry about the two girls. They had to endure the privations of bandits. Do we know what happened to them while they were captives?”
I knew what my wife meant and I could not answer her truthfully although I had an idea, however unpalatable that might be. “Petr and Fótr will know more than we do. Let us not make up a story. They have to wait until the snow has gone and then speak with Ranulf. Petr will be training hard to become a knight. He has all the martial skills he needs. Alfred can help him with the rest.”
My wife suddenly realised the implications of this course of action. “Our son still has a year before he can train as a squire.”
I nodded, “And this would not mean he would be my squire. Surely you do not think that teaching languages, reading and the playing of the rote are dangerous?” I smiled as I said it.
My wife shook her head, “Thomas of Stockton, you are devious! I pity your foes for you have a mind like a steel trap. I would not put it past you to have created this situation!”
“Then you give me more credit than I deserve. I knew nothing about this.”
It was February before the two of them and Fótr’s squire, John, were able to travel. I sent two men at arms with them and my wife sent gifts for the family. In the weeks since I had told her of their plans she had mellowed. Our son had shown that he was growing for he became Petr’s teacher and he was a good one. Aunt Ruth helped and Isabelle and William were included in the reading and writing lessons. For my Aunt this was a joy unbounded. A wedding was the one thing missing in her life and to have two in the castle would make it complete.
The thaw meant we had news from the south. I heard about the death of the Archbishop. We heard that the King was back in England and scouring the land of those barons who had opposed him in Ireland. King John was not one to forgive and forget. He bore a grudge and I feared for my land. My great grandfather had lived through one civil war. A second one had cost us Normandy. I prayed that we would not have a third. Ralph of Whorlton sent me the news that he now had a son but his wife’s father was not well. Thanks to the Archbishop’s gift Northallerton paid homage to me. That would create a problem. Sir Hugh had no sons. Legally the manor should pass to his nearest relative, his daughter but would this be viewed with suspicion by my enemies? Sir Ral
ph was my knight. I would wrestle with that problem when it became necessary. There was also good news. Godfrey of Beverley sent a gift of two war horses and two palfreys.
The three were away for half a month. As we approached the spring equinox, when the days and nights were the same length, I wondered at the delay. Alfred was even more worried and he took to watching from the north gate. It was he who spied them as they arrived. Their faces told me that they had been successful. I did not need to ask a question for Alfred raced down, “Well?”
Fótr looked at me and I nodded. “The girls’ father agreed to our proposals. Their mother was happy that they would married to two lords and safe from the raiding Scots in Stockton castle. With your permission, lord, we have agreed to a summer wedding on the longest day. That will give Petr the opportunity to continue studying to be a knight. Sarah will stay with Petr’s family until then.” He paused, “I know that I have a fine church, lord but I would be honoured if I could be married in the Warlord’s church.”
“Of course. You had better tell your parents, Petr.” He nodded and ran off. “I will speak to Father Abelard for you, Fótr. You will have much to do at your hall.” He cocked a quizzical eye at me. “Your home is the home of a bachelor. It has been many years since a woman looked at the hall. In your place I would ask Lady Margaret to ride with you and advise you. Ladies do not suffer the same conditions that we warriors find acceptable.”
He nodded, “Thank you lord.”
When they had gone Alfred could not wait to ask me, “Well, father, does this mean I train as a knight? Can I be your new squire.”
“Petr is not a knight yet. He has much to do. When he has passed all of his tests, held his vigil, received his spurs and been dubbed then and only then will you be able to begin as my squire.” He nodded, “And you must have seen twelve summers.” His face fell. He would have to wait beyond the date of the marriage of Fótr and Maud. I did not think that Petr would have mastered reading and writing by then.