by Smith, Skye
Empty the hearth and rebuild it, remove all straw, sweep the walls and the floors, rewet the floors and scrape them, lay fresh straw. The village women jumped to her orders, as did the Frisian women. The whole time she held Judith by the hand and was explaining the tasks to her in French, and the importance of the sequence of which to do and when.
Once the manor was a maelstrom of cleaning, she took Judith into the first of the longhouses that housed guests. This time she whispered the orders to Judith and had her yell them out. This time the orders went to camp women and to warriors. The warriors raised an eyebrow to Rapenald, who was standing behind Judith, and he nodded and gave them a look back that would ensure obedience. This scene was repeated over and over again as the two countesses progressed through all of the inhabited buildings.
Beatrice was a woman who knew good work from bad and said so. The two old peasants who kept the mess latrine were praised for their design and their efforts. The cook at the manor was praised for her clean and organized kitchen, while the cook at the mess kitchen was threatened with a lashing unless she mended her ways, and quickly.
It took hours to do all the cleaning that the countesses had ordered, and the whole time there was a cloud of dust rising from each doorway. Beatrice then showed Judith the other side of giving orders. They walked about with aleskins over each shoulder and poured drinks for the dust choked workers. "In this way you can inspect the ongoing work, without seeming to hover. They thank you for the needed drink as if they are thanking you for putting them to work."
Beatrice called a halt to the work an hour before sunset so that the workers would have a chance to clean themselves before sitting to eat. "If they have light while they eat they enjoy the food more. The same food tastes better if you can see it, and see to keep the flies away from it, and see each others smiles. There is no sense in wasting candles when the summer days are so long."
The ladies took Judith to the women’s quarters for cleaning and dressing for the meal. Beatrice came storming out of the quarters a short while later and stomped up to Waltheof and ordered him to follow her. He did not budge to the orders of a mere woman, so she grabbed his ear and twisted it with cruel force.
He lashed out with his hand to smash her, but his wrist was caught by Klaes in mid air and twisted and forced behind his back. He looked around to see three other men at his table putting the daggers away that they had drawn to protect Beatrice. He made calming noises and stood to follow Beatrice. They disappeared into the women’s quarters and did not reappear for some time. When he did return he was red faced, but from embarrassment rather than anger.
Raynar guessed that he had been scolded by a room full of women for his treatment of his bride. He caught his eye and gave him a slow wag of the head. Waltheof shrugged and nodded back, and made for the seat next to him. "Bugger," he said, "one of the blonde lovelies threatened to cut off my wanker if I wasn't more careful. Two others offered to hold me down if she wanted to cut me a bit on account. They argued that if they cut me a little now, I would be too sore to use it for a month."
Raynar began to laugh. He laughed so hard that Waltheof could not resist the infection and began to laugh too. Other men wanted to hear the jest, but of course Waltheof was not about to tell, and Raynar would never tell another man's story.
Later when the feasting was finished and most of the folk were making their ways to their beds, Thorold, Klaes, Rapenald, Waltheof and Raynar stayed long at a table swapping news. They were all ears for what Waltheof was sharing with them. William was in this kingdom only half of the time. Each month he was visiting Normandy. He had great problems on his borders now that Baldwin of Flanders had died, and now that the young king of France was pushing to expand his kingdom.
William's calls for men to join him to bolster his armies had gone mostly unheeded. The lords on both sides of the Manche were calling him wasteful with the lives of their kin. Meanwhile the barons along the borders of Wales and Cornwall were openly defying him and raising their own armies.
The king of Scotland was raiding south of the Scottish border. It was said that between William's harrowing and Malcolm's raiding, now every household in Scotland, no matter how mean, now had an English bond slave.
The wolfpacks ranging closer and closer to London had Londoners worried and pressing on the king for action, and they were holding back payments and loans until something was done. Ships of the Danish fleet were raiding both sides of the North Sea in Flanders as well as Anglia and around the Thames estuary.
Waltheof knew they were waiting for the big news. He had hinted of it to Hereward. The Danegeld. "There will be a Danegeld offered to King Sweyn, but it will not be chests of coins and gold as was the last one. This time Sweyn's men will be allowed to collect their own Danegeld. The king's plan is to give them permission to raid certain shires to collect all the treasure." The effect was as he expected. Anger and more anger.
"But William will offer the coast of the Danelaw. Sweyn will never accept such an offer. The Daneglish are his folk. The owners of the treasures are already vassal to him," Klaes thought aloud. "Besides, since last year's Danegeld was collected from the churches of the Danelaw, and since the Danelaw was cleared by a harrowing, there is nothing left to take. " Klaes was well acquainted with the business of raiding, being a Frisian war lord and ship's captain.
Waltheof shrugged his shoulders. "If there is nothing left to take in the Danelaw, then what about the shires that his ships are already raiding. What if no soldiers repelled his landings in say, East Anglia. They could take it all."
"You said earlier that they were raiding Anglia, and the mouth of the Thames. No, William would never allow it. It is too close to London and would hurt their most profitable trade. You also said that Londoners were already angry and fearful about the wolfpacks," argued Klaes.
"Exactly. He will pay the Danegeld to Sweyn simply by allowing Sweyn's ships to land at will, and in doing so he will scare the Londoners into paying him for protection. It is brilliant, though evil," replied Waltheof.
"It is naught but evil," Raynar said with fire in his voice. "He plays with the lives of the folk as if they were of no importance. There is nothing kingly in this plan. William has turned Viking himself. He is nothing but a footpad on a massive scale. He is fit to rule nothing save a gallows tree."
"Strong words about a king," chastened Waltheof.
"Where is he now, while making these decisions," asked Raynar, eager for the information. " Where is he camped? Where is his army?"
Waltheof decided to hold that information back until he had surveyed the situation in the Fens more closely, and until he knew if the Danes would withdraw. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "He could be anywhere. He keeps his route a secret from his enemies and from his friends. He wants no one to know whether he is in England or in Normandy.
"But to bargain with Sweyn he must be in England," said Thorold.
"Or Flanders, or Normandy, or anywhere along the coast, or even in London. Both he and Sweyn have fast ships. They can meet anywhere," replied Waltheof.
"So there are no armies marching north to relieve Cambridge?" asked Rapenald.
"Me," replied Waltheof, "I am the army. I have been sent to bring peace to the Fens. It seems that I will need all of your help to do that."
"The wolfpacks are bringing us peace because the Normans are afraid to leave their garrisons," said Rapenald slowly for emphasis. "Thorold’s plough teams are bringing us peace because the folk are all busy with their fields. Jarl Osbard is bringing us peace by keeping Cambridge hostage. If William wants a lasting peace all he has to do is wed his daughter to Edwin and leave the North to Edwin's hand."
Waltheof thought long before he answered, "From the Norman point of view, the wolfpacks are killing them and pushing them south. The plough teams are strengthening the villages of the Danelaw, and therefore the axemen. Jarl Osbard is a threat to all Anglia, if only he were wise enough to bypass Cambridge. And as for Ed
win. If William made him son in law, Edwin would die with a Norman knife in his back within the week."
Rapenald saw that Raynar was about to go into another tirade, so he changed the subject, "William has sent you to claim Huntingdon. The shire, the village, the bridge, the bailey. Do you claim the garrison as well."
"I am an English Earl not a Norman one. I ask only that English warriors listen to me and follow me when I act as sheriff to keep the peace. I will not lead them against Ely, and I will not lead them against Cambridge."
"As sheriff," Raynar spoke softly, "will you lead them against the wolfpacks?"
"I would ask that the wolfpacks give peace a chance and go home to their villages," replied Waltheof.
"I would like to here you tell that to those of the packs whose villages are burned, and whose families are dead," replied Raynar. "They do not fight for lords and they do not fight for coin. They fight to make the Norman's hurt as much as they have been hurt."
"They could always start a new life with Sweyn," said Waltheof.
"They will rush to join Sweyn the day he invades Normandy," replied Raynar.
Waltheof put his arm on Raynar's shoulder. "Do not think of me as baiting you. I have had this same discussion with William, with me saying that which you now say. I try only to make all sides see that while the only law is vengeance, then there will be no peace.
Think instead about why William would send me here. The time is not right to hand the entire North to Edwin, but he can hand this small disputed shire to me, and I can make it serve as a buffer or border between North and South and keep the roads open for the good of both."
Raynar got up to relieve himself, and on his return brought his scroll pipe. He unrolled two maps that showed the shires between the Wash and the Welsh border. Waltheof thought to himself, "now I remember this man. The map man."
Raynar pointed to the Welsh border near Shrewsbury and ran his finger across to Huntingdon. "So with three Earls you can cut the kingdom into two. The Earl of Hereford, the Earl of Northampton, and the Earl of Huntingdon. I have ranged in the lands of all three in the past two weeks. Hereford keeps order with an iron fist and with a personal army that equals the kings. Northampton is pissing himself hiding in his bailey. Only here are the roads moving freely and the markets thriving. Your work, my Earl, has already been done for you. The king needs to pressure the other two earls to do as well."
The earl looked long at the maps as if memorizing them.
"May I suggest something?" said Thorold. He did not wait for permission. "Fill your wife with your child and then send her back for Queen Mathilde to care for until her time. No one at this table will trust you while she is here as William's eyes and ears."
Finally there was something that everyone at the table could agree upon.
Once Waltheof had retired, there were other things to be agreed upon without his ears to hear. The wolfpacks were to stop ranging south and instead range west into the lands of Northampton. Again the maps were rolled out and the men used pebbles to indicate the last known locations of the wolfpacks, and then where they were to move to. Rapenald could read and write, and he made himself notes for issuing the messages that would sent, and where they were to be sent to.
Beatrice came to them to pull Thorold to her bed. She looked at Raynar and made a funny face. "My ladies are most distressed that you flirted with none of them, Raynar. Be more aware of them tomorrow."
"No," whispered Klaes, "tomorrow Raynar joins my ship for a run to Ely."
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Hoodsman - Ely Wakes by Skye Smith
Chapter 19 - The fate of Flanders decided in Ely in August 1070
Ely had changed much in four months. There must have been a non stop building boom, for the island was no longer just an abbey with some shabby fisher huts along the water front. Now there were docks and houses and longhouses and barns. The Danish ships he expected, but the hundreds of small fen boats he did not.
Ely had become a market center for the boat people of the Fens for you could take small boats from here to anywhere in the southern fens. And there were so many people. People from all over the North Sea. People from all over the Danelaw. Mostly men, but enough women to make it seem like a town rather than an army camp. And ships, ships from everywhere. True they were all smaller ships, and most were coastal vessels, but of all sorts and all ages and all with crews that were helping the town to boom.
Klaes had been closed mouthed about why he needed Raynar in Ely. Once there, he led him to the largest of the longhouses, which was well guarded, and they entered together. Inside a court was in session. It was not Jarl Osbard centered at the head table, however, but his lord and brother, King Sweyn. Sitting beside Sweyn was Hereward, and beside him was Sweyn's second son Canute. On Sweyn's right was his eldest son Harald, and beside Harald was the Jarl.
Hereward stood and introduced Klaes and Raynar to the court. Sweyn then stood and bid them to come forward and be welcomed. A moment later, with a wave of his arm, he ordered the court cleared. There were groans from some men who had been waiting long for the King's ear, but everyone hurried to clear the room, which left just the men at the head table and the servants who were hovering close by. Raynar grabbed a bench and placed it opposite the men sitting at the head table. He sat without their permission, and pulled Klaes down beside him. He nodded to Canute, and Canute smiled and nodded back.
"You are the Raynar of Raynar's Rules?" Sweyn confirmed. That was what Canute had named the simple list of things to remember when fighting Norman cavalry.
"I am."
"Then I want you to come with me to Flanders," said Sweyn.
"You ask me this when you are once again bargaining for a Danegeld so you can desert the folk of the Danelaw yet again," Raynar took a breath and continued with more emphasis, "I am more likely to slit your throat."
Harald, the eldest son, stood and pulled his jeweled dagger from its scabbard. Sweyn put his hand on Harald's arm and told him to sit. "I can understand why you have said these words to me, and I forgive you because you do it from ignorance. Be peaceful and listen before you pass judgement on me."
Sweyn motioned to his chamberlain to clear the rest of the staff from the room, and then waited until the only ears were those at the table. "Those of you who live and fight in this island kingdom often forget that the world is a much larger place and there are other kingdoms which offer much richer prizes than this one."
Raynar nodded to the truth of these words so Sweyn continued, "Baldwin of Flanders has died and Flanders has been claimed by his sixteen year old whelp Arnulf. Denmark has a good friend in Baldwin's brother Robert the Frisian, Regent of Holland, who is also making a claim. Philip of France is supporting Arnulf because Arnulf is his puppy.
Meanwhile, William the Bastard has his greedy eyes set on Flanders and will try to claim it through his wife Mathilde, who was sister to Baldwin and Robert." Sweyn poured Raynar and Klaes an ale and searched their faces while he did so. "What I am trying to say is that what is happening here and now in these Fens has more to do with the death of Baldwin than it does with last winter's harrowing of the Danelaw."
Raynar nodded but Klaes looked blank. Sweyn continued, "I sent my ships here to keep William and his army split between both sides of the Manche, and thereby keep him away from Flanders. Before winter storms beach my ships I must take them and my men across the North Sea to the low countries so they will be ready and in place to help Robert the Frisian."
This time Sweyn waited until Klaes nodded his understanding. "If William is willing to pay me Danegeld to help keep Flanders from him, then who am I to dismiss his generosity." He began to laugh. A great bellowing laugh, and the other Danes joined in. "I have told him that his coin is not enough. I want him to swear peace for the Danelaw for this winter. He is stalling, but a peace works in his favour. With peace he can cross to Normandy. He will accept. Who is he to dismiss my generosity."
"You may pro
mise him peace if you wish," said Raynar, "but my wolfpacks will continue to slaughter his lords and pull down their walls."
"I cannot stop you from doing this, but I ask you to first think beyond this kingdom. Flanders is as a sister to these Fens. Baldwin, rest his soul, kept the Franks out of the low counties. Keeping the Franks out kept their fortresses out, and therefore kept their serfdom away from the folk. Robert the Frisian is Baldwin's brother in more than blood. He hates the Frankish ways of masters and slaves and loves the Danish ways of freemen. As Count he will continue to keep the Franks and their slavery out of the low counties."
Raynar shrugged. What was this to him. Nothing.
"Lad, do not shrug off this news," Sweyn continued. "Not you of all people. You have seen first hand what the change from freeman to serf means to the folk. The folk are losing their freedom here. Would you have all the folk of the North Sea share their fate. If Robert becomes Count, we have a chance to reverse what is happening here. The puppies Arnulf and Phillip will invite Frankish ways into Flanders and it will become another Normandy."
"Why us. You have men enough and ships enough. You could have crushed William last year and you could certainly crush him this year," argued Raynar, "if you had the will."
Sweyn ignored the slight, though his eldest son and the Jarl were grumbling angrily. "I cannot save both Flanders and the Danelaw this winter. I must choose one. I have chosen Flanders." Sweyn took a deep breath to calm himself. There was too much at stake to risk shunning this berserker, this man with the disturbing eyes. The killer eyes.
"So why do I need you two. One reason is that you are Frisian, and though Robert was not born a Frisian, he surrounds himself with Frisian warriors. His wife Gertrude, is mother of the child Count of Holland. She is also the daughter of the Duke of Saxony, so you can understand why so much of his army comes from the northern coasts."