Hoodsman: Popes and Emperors

by Smith, Skye

  Demetri was silent, thinking, and then said softly, "This sounds like legend not metallurgy. Is it true? Have you harvested it, smelted it, cast it?"

  "I have done all of these things in the Fens of England where there are still villages of Frisians, the Venetians of the North Sea. Yes it is all true."

  "Then I will have a copy made of our plans and have them delivered to Maria's house, and I will send a recommendation to the Doxe that he grant you honorary citizenship." Demetri grabbed Raynar arm in a warriors clasp to seal his promise. "Come with me, for soon I must leave you for other engagements. Let us go and stand on the decks on the new galley and look down on this Norse ship."

  As they climbed the ladders up to the decks of the galley, Maria was very glad that she had dressed as a man. With Raynar always holding her hand to steady her, she inched her way across the scaffold bridging that led them to the almost finished deck on the side above the Norse ship.

  "Don't these balcony decks on each side make the ship unstable in heavy seas?" Raynar asked.

  "Less than you would think," replied Demetri, "for they are of equal weight and windage on both sides and so are in balance. They have much less effect than the mast and sail. See the difference in the frames of the two ships. The Norse built the ship from the pre-curved planks and then added enough ribs to keep the planks together. We set out the ribs first, three times as many, and then fasten lesser, weaker, unshaped planks to the ribs. Butt joint rather than lap joints.

  But come and look. See what we gain with the outrigged decks."

  Raynar stood on the long balcony that Demetri had called the outrigged deck. This is where the oarsmen would sit. He looked over the low gunnels of that deck at the Norse longship. This deck was just high enough above the longship to give a complete fighting advantage to any man with spear, axe, sword or arrow. If the numbers were even, the men of the longship ship would surely have to flee the combat or be slaughtered.

  "And look what moving the oars onto an upper deck has done for the rest of the hull," said Demetri with the face of a proud father.

  Raynar compared ship to ship. In the Norse ship, there was little cargo or passenger space because the long oars reached almost to the center of the narrow hull. In the galley, the oars were lifted higher and out to the side which left room for cargo and passengers, or extra warriors. As well, in some places the upper decks created a roof for shelter down below.

  He left go of Maria's hand and scrambled over ragged scaffolding to gain the steering bridge. Demetri followed him more slowly, but not Maria. From the captain's point of view this galley looked huge in comparison to the longship, and yet the hulls were much the same size. There was space for oarsmen and cargo and passengers, and there would still be space a plenty for the sail riggers to work without tripping over the others.

  And then he saw the problem. "Demetri, with the oarsmen sitting so high, the oars must be longer and heavier. Each man will push the ship less because he must fight the weight of the oar."

  "That is flat thinking, Raynar. Think in cubes and spheres, not in paper views. We fit the oars at a steeper angle and reshape the blade to be used like half paddle, half oar. The length is hardly changed, although we must weight the grip end to make it easier to lift the blade end clear of the water. The oarsman's stroke becomes more like a triangle motion than a loop. A movement to the count of three rather than two. "

  Raynar could have spent the rest of the day looking at everything, every join, every fitting, but Demetri hurried him off the galley. "That is enough for today. Enough for you to discuss it with the Doxe. I must bid you away so that my men can get back to their work. When my plans for the Norse ship are complete, I will send them to you."

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  The Hoodsman - Popes and Emperors by Skye Smith

  Chapter 10 - An English galley in London in January 1104

  That January the shipwrights of the Wapping ship yard to the East of London, took over one of the empty lumber storage sheds to use as an office, and as a rest house. Thus the tradesmen could step inside out of the heaviest rain and keep warm, and the plans for the galley conversion could be used without them dissolving.

  The Mora, the Conqueror's mighty longship, was pulled up on the shingle higher than the tides and was chocked and blocked to keep it stable while the new outrigger decks were added to it. The scaffolding was in place but not a plank had yet been laid. First the extra ribs must be added inside the hull to give the new decks a strong frame to rest upon.

  The shipwrights and carpenters were crowding around the table where Raynar was trying to explain how to read these working plans. They were copies of sections of the originals. Again and again he had been frustrated. Some of these men had never touched paper never mind read schematics. He groaned. It was never easy, was it.

  "Oye Ray," said one of the carpenters. "Were buildin' a friggin ship out of wood, not a grand church out of stone. Yer expectin us to know like masons."

  "Do you know a good mason?" Raynar asked. When the man nodded, he said, "Then go and fetch him.” On a stone building site the mason read plans and gave orders to carpenters. Why shouldn't a mason build a ship? "For now you lot get back to carving and fitting the curved ribs, but send for me when the mason arrives."

  Captain Thomas grabbed his arm and pulled him to one side. "I haven't seen anything in writing yet that gives you permission to continue this work."

  "Well that is because the messengers are still trying to catch up to King Henry. If you need a signature so badly, I will arrange one from the Queen. But why. You've seen the model I had built. The advantages of these new decks is obvious when you see them modeled."

  They both stepped out into the gray of a London winter day, and pulled their hoods up to stop the cold drizzle from dripping down their necks. The longer he worked on this ship in the rain, the fonder were his memories of sunny days in Venice. Venice was so very different from any other city he had ever visited. Perhaps a mix of the vitality and canals of Brugge with the grace and order of Cordoba.

  The gateman called down to them from up on the bank. "Captain Raynar, the palace guard are here to fetch you."

  The two captains raced each other up the slope, with Thomas in the lead because he was twenty years younger. Two tall fair English archers in the tunics of the palace leaned on their long bows under the gate house roof to stay dry, well at least, to not get any wetter. The one wearing the red ribbon on his chest told them that the king had returned, and that Captain Raynar was summoned to his presence.

  "Right, Thomas, there is my authority. Stay here and wait for that mason to come. Test him to make sure that he can read the plans well enough to explain them to the carpenters. If he can, then hire him. If he can't then ask him to fetch us someone who can."

  Thomas grinned back at him. He was in a no lose situation with Raynar. If the ship worked as designed then he would become a royal captain, perhaps a captain of captains. If it didn't work, he will still have learned how to run a shipyard. Whatever came of it, twice a week he was eating with a royal family in a palace.

  * * * * *

  Raynar and his escort took their horses along the Thames embankment rather than going through the city. This allowed Raynar to do a slight side trip to make sure there were no more problems where the public bath house was being built. As a side benefit of building the bath house, the embankment now had road through Queenhithe with a fast surface.

  To their horses this did not matter, but it mattered much for the heavy carts that carried loads to and from the docks. Though the new road was a longer way than using the streets of the inner city, it was far faster and easier on wheels and on the tempers of those that lived in the inner city.

  When they reached the palace at Westminster he made for his quarters to pick up a change of clothes, and then for the men's bath house to get cleaned up and changed. The bath house was crowded with men who looked as if they had slept in their saddles for a month.
They almost had. They were the King's guard, and they had just ridden here directly from the borders of Wales.

  "King's caught a damp chill," said one of them who recognized Raynar. "He came here to dry out." Everyone around them laughed. It had been the rainiest winter that any of them could remember. Not so cold, but oh so wet.

  "Bah, he ain't sick," said another. "He just needed a good shag. If you had a looker for a wife like he does, wouldn't you hide from winter in her bed." Everyone grinned in good humour but no one would be so rude as to laugh out loud. His wife, after all, was their beloved queen, and they didn't like to think of her as just another woman to shag.

  His working clothes and cloak were of no value to anyone in this palace but him, so Raynar left them in the bath house to drip dry, and hurried along the corridors to the great hall to announce his presence to the register clerk. He was led to the royal chambers immediately.

  "Christ, Henry, you look like shit," were his very words when he first came up to the man.

  "Bloody cold," sniffed Henry, "can't seem to shake it. Feel like shit, cos this nose won't stop running.” He sniffed again and again, and then moaned and lay back in his chair.

  "And he won't listen to reason," Maud said, hovering while holding a cup of hot lemon. "He should be in bed and keeping warm, and eating nothing, but drinking endless cups of salty broth or hot lemon.” Maud was the Countess of Huntingdon, Northampton, and Northumbria, and therefore possibly the richest woman in England, but she had learned healing at Raynar's knee when she was a child, and besides, she was a mothering sort of woman.

  "Where's Edith?" Raynar asked.

  "In Windsor with some masons. She is determined to have a small palace behind New Windsor's walls," replied Maud. "I have sent for her."

  "Henry you need to get clean before Edith arrives. Admit that much at least. I was just with your men in the bath house and they are all clean.” Raynar looked towards Maud, "If you order a hot bath for him, I will hold him down while you scrub him."

  "Ooh, that sounds naughty," Maud giggled. "It's a bargain." And she went away calling out for maids to start bring hot water up from the kitchen.

  For the first time in a week, Henry cracked a smile. "I had to leave the West Country half sorted. It was this bloody cold. It kept me in such a foul mood that I was making foul decisions." He sat forward and grabbed a paper from the low table next to him and reached out with it for Raynar to take. "And now this. I just can't keep up." He moaned again.

  Raynar read the damp letter. It was in courtly French and a bit smudged so it took him a while to take it all in. "Bloody court clerks, why can't they just say what they mean instead adding all these useless flowery words.” He read it again, ignoring words of over two syllables.

  "So Mortain is acting up in Normandy already. Well that is no surprise. It is no surprise that he would attack Rotrou in Perche either. That slaps right back in your face because you just betrothed your daughter Matilda to him. Besides, Rotrou is young and is new to being a viscount." Raynar pictured in his mind where Perche was on the map of Normandy. Right between Maine and Belleme and Mortain. "I'll wager Belleme put Mortain up to it. The pricks. Hurting innocent folk out of spite for you."

  "Oh, my head is too heavy to deal with it. Make it go away."

  "What about Robert Meulan? He has sorted the mess that Belleme left in Shropshire, and he loathes both Belleme and Mortain. Why not send him to bargain with them. Your brother will be glad of his advice. He's an old bastard, older than me, so they will all treat him as an ambassador rather than a general."

  Henry sat up straight, thinking. "Perfect. All I need is a temporary peace, and the problem may solve itself. Yes, and Meulan's lands in Normandy are in the Vexin, far away from Perche, so he will be viewed as impartial by my brother." He lay down again sniffing and groaning. "Please send for my scribe, and ask him to bring my seal."

  The scribe wrote the letter to Robert Meulan and Henry signed and sealed it. The letter left it up to Meulan whether he came to chat with Henry first, or went directly to Normandy. Meanwhile the bath was being filled by a flock of young kitchen maids who were giggling to be allowed in the presence of the king, especially a king known to be easily seduced. Henry didn't even look at the pretty young things, so Raynar knew he was truly ill.

  Everyone was shooed away once the bath was ready. Raynar helped Henry out of the robe he had put on when he stripped out of his smelly damp riding clothes. As he was helping him into the bath tub, Maud was stepping out of her woolen gown, and then she came to help out dressed in a just her linen-cotton slip.

  "Here, love," Raynar told her. "Put your ear to his back and tell me what you think."

  She did as he asked, and Raynar asked Henry to do some deep breaths. Eventually she pulled her ear back and said, "Oh dear. He has water in the lungs. I can hear the bubbles." Together they eased Henry slowly down into the hot water, and then let him sit while they talked herbs.

  "I would say that it is too far gone for slippery elm infusions," Raynar said.

  "I agree," replied Maud, "Please go down to the kitchen and ask them for an infusion of olive leaves, some lemons, and every bit of dried sage there is."

  "Ah, of course, I had forgotten. My memory is patchy now on herbs. It seems to be filled with ships fittings."

  Henry looked up at them. "Ships fittings. Now what are you up to?"

  "Later Henry. That can wait until you are feeling better," replied Raynar as he hurried away to the kitchen shed.

  By the time he returned, some of the girls had arrived with more hot water. The hot bath had made Henry feel so much better that he was making eyes at them. Once the girls were gone, Maud poured him a cup of olive leaf infusion and forced him to drink it. It was very bitter to drink, but it was a more powerful version of slippery elm infusion, and about the only thing that cured water in the lungs. Actually cured the illness rather than cured the symptoms.

  Meanwhile Raynar had brought a brazier close to Henry's head and sprinkled sage onto the glowing coals. The pungent smoke curled up and he wafted it towards the king and told him to breath it in. The sage smoke would dry the lungs and therefore help the olive leaves to cure them.

  Eventually he fell asleep in the bath tub so they called in the guards from the corridor to lift him out and lay him on a bed.

  * * * * *

  A week later, it was Henry who was standing in the huddle of shipwrights looking at various plans. Thomas had the signed document that transferred to Raynar the control of the Mora, in trust to the crown, so he was satisfied. The combination of mason and shipwrights had the modifications leaping forwards. You could actually see the frame of the outrigged decks taking shape.

  In his hands Henry was holding his own personal models of the Mora, both the before and the after versions, and he was so pleased with the models that Raynar thought he would go home to Edith and order a bath so that he could try to float them. For now Henry called both Raynar and Thomas to him and asked if there was a quiet room close by where they could talk.

  Thomas had taken a room close to the Wapping shipyards, and though on a busy street and therefore far from quiet, it was private. Once to the room, with the royal guards posted around the building, Henry put both models on the one table so they sat alongside each other. Raynar had to chuckle as Henry had just done exactly what the shipyard in Venice had done when they wanted to compare two ships.

  Seeing the models like this, side by side, suddenly answered most of the questions "why" that Henry had been forming all day on his tour of the Wapping shipyard and of his father's beloved ship. Instantly he could see the battle advantage of the higher deck of the galley over the longship. So now that he knew the technical "why", he still needed to know the strategic "why".

  "Henry," Raynar replied to Henry's question of strategy, "you must know that later this year you will be forced to visit Normandy. Robert has visited you three times, although in truth, one of those times was actually an invasion."

>   "But I don't have time to go to Normandy. I still have so much work to do in England to repair the damage done over the last thirty years of neglect. You know better than I that most of the wealth was spirited away to Normandy, or Sicily, or the Holy Lands. Any wealth that was left was used to build stone buildings as monuments to self important men. Stone castles for nobles, stone houses for lords, stone churches for priests, and now the bishops are pushing me for permission to build basilicas."

  "I too would rather you didn't go to Normandy," Raynar agreed. "I don't trust Belleme and I don't trust Mortain, and I don't trust your brother Robert. But you will be forced to go, and when you do go, you will go in the new Mora."

  "Which brings me back to why."

  "The new Mora will be fast enough to flee from storms, fast enough to cross to Normandy in one day, and fast enough to outrun any other ship."

  "So was the old Mora," Thomas stated the obvious.

  "Yes, but the new Mora will be invincible at sea, and will be powerful enough to land you safely in any port." Raynar was on a rant. "Forty or more oarsmen, all bowmen. Shelter for women and other precious cargo. Space for thirty knights, or more archers, or perhaps even some horses. No longship or roundship could survive an attack by her, or outrun her. No port would refuse her landing. And if an army came to greet you, you could outrun them to a safer port."

  "Ahhh," Henry replied. "Now I understand. For quick visits I could stick to coastal places. Have the lords of Normandy meet me in coastal ports. If there is any trouble, I am away. The only thing that will catch me is another longship, and the bowmen will fire down into it and the dying oarsmen will tangle their oars. I will always be able to get back to England."

  "Aye," said Thomas, "And though gale force winds will keep us to port, high seas will not. The new Mora stands higher and will ride them without being swamped."

  Henry produced his medicine flask. It was the special medicine that Raynar had bought for him in a shop in the bowels of London. Apparently some monks in the Alps made it by taking kegs of the local wine up to the snow line and freezing it. As it froze, they skimmed off the ice that floated to the top, over and over, and then they dispensed what was left as medicine. It cleaned a sick throat faster even than hot lemon, and even though it was cold, it burned all the way down. Henry poured some for each of them.