by Griff Hosker
The smithies were close to the tannery. It was the part of town my wife did not like for it had the smell, noise, smoke and fire from the anvils and forges which was mixed with the stench from curing hides. I knew that they were necessary. Old Henry was working at his forge. A young boy was working the bellows. They stopped as William and I approached. Henry had never left the town. He had lived there when taxes had almost destroyed it. He was proud of Stockton for his family had lived there when the Warlord had run the manor. Alf had been the first smith in the town and Henry was his great-grandson, “Congratulations on your new grandson.”
“Thank you, Henry. He is healthy and has a fine set of lungs. And who is this young titan working your bellows?”
“That is my grandson, John.”
“Good morning John and would you be a smith like your grandfather?”
He shook his head, “I would be a warrior, my lord!”
I laughed as Henry shook his head, “His father despairs of him. He has given him to me to see if I can rid him of these ideas.”
“How old are you John?”
“I have seen more than seven summers I think, my lord.” He grinned, “Perhaps almost eight?”
“Well, John, you have some years to go before you can think of that. Working the bellows will give you the strength you need. If you are still of a mind in three years’ time then come to my castle and speak with me.”
His face lit up and Henry nodded, “That may be the best, my lord. I have other sons and grandsons who are happy to hammer metal but if the love of iron is not in your heart then you cannot beat it in”
I nodded and was about to leave when William said, “John, how would you like to be a page?”
I saw the boy frown. He did not know what a page was. “A page, Master William?”
I shook my head for William should have asked me first. The carrot was out of the ground and so I spoke, “A page serves a knight. He helps a knight’s squire to polish armour and to sharpen his weapons. He waits at table.”
John was young enough for complete honesty, “That sounds duller than working a bellows, my lord.”
Henry shook his head, “John!”
“The boy is right, Henry.”
William said, “Aye but then a page trains to be a squire and then a knight. I was a page and now I am a squire. In a few days, I shall be a knight!”
John’s face lit up, “Then I would be a warrior!”
I looked at Henry. “I have a place for a page. If you wish it then come to me at the castle and we will talk further. This is hurried and,” I glared at William, “this is not the place for such talk!”
“Aye lord, we are honoured.”
As we left William, who knew I was annoyed, said, “What is the difference father? We now go to a tannery to see if Matthew and Mark wish to be squires. What makes this circumstance different?”
“Because the two we seek have already made a request. They are older too. You need to learn to think before you speak! You still have much to learn.”
The stink from the tannery made my nose wrinkle. My wife would take our cloaks and have them washed when we returned home and have us don fresh surcoats! John the Tanner was unused to visits from the lord of the manor. He came and bowed, “You wish some leather, lord?”
I shook my head, “No John, I would speak with you privately.”
“Of course, my lord. Come, the wind is from the east we will go to the river. The air is more wholesome there.”
He was right. There was a wooden quay. The small ships which took John’s hides away could tie up there and it made the loading easier. I saw seals swimming in the river. “My son tells me that your sons Matthew and Mark wish to be warriors.”
“Aye lord, my wife,” he made the sign of the cross, “God rest her soul, thought that as they were twins, they were destined for a better life than that of a tanner. Perhaps she was right. She had dreams of them being important men; merchants or even priests.”
“Your work is valuable, John. Do not think less of yourself. Then how do you feel about it?”
“I have two other sons who will inherit the business and they are happy to work here. If Matthew and Mark wish to be warriors then so be it.”
“And how would you feel if they were to be squires?”
I saw amazement fill his face, “My lord! That would be an honour! But two squires?”
“William is to be knighted and will need one. When he is dubbed then I will require someone to replace him.” He nodded. “You know that this means they would be taken from your home and live in the castle with us.”
He beamed, “Aye, but in heaven, his mother will be thanking me for fulfilling her dream. She hoped they might be priests but this is even better!”
“Then fetch them hither and we will see if they agree.”
Of course, they both did. As they gushed their thanks, I examined them. They were already well muscled. Working with hides and training with the bow had done that for them. I could not determine the difference between them. They were big lads. They would do.
“You know that you will have to learn to ride a horse?” They nodded. “The work of a squire will mean you will have to serve at table. It will not all be training with weapons.” The disappointment flashed across their faces but they nodded. “Then get your gear and make your farewells. We will return to the castle. Present yourselves at the gate when you are prepared. A new life awaits!”
My wife was less than pleased at the extra work which was incurred by the two squires and, two days later when Henry the Smith arrived at my gates with John the page, she voiced her opinion “As if I do not have enough to do with baptism and a ceremony of the knight! I have clothes to have made for three boys!”
I had kissed her, “You know you love it!”
In truth, the work was for others. She had ladies who made the surcoats and tunics for the three new members of our household. They also made the simple white shift which would be worn by William for his vigil. The three would share a chamber. It was in the east tower and that was the coldest quarters. It was the one my wife reserved for the times when the castle was full. For the squires and the page, it was considerably better than what they were used to.
As William was busy preparing to be a knight, I gave them over to Richard. He had time on his hands. His brother was still enjoying fatherhood and Richard could tell the three what their duties were just as easily as William.
The night before the ceremony Matthew and Mark, along with John and Richard, helped prepare my son. He bathed. This was symbolic. It was like the dousing with water which baby Thomas would experience. Then he was groomed and dressed in a simple white shift. Bishop Poore had sent him a fine sword. I vaguely recognised it as one which had been taken from the Scots. Then the six of us marched to the church. My men at arms and archers made an arch beneath which we walked. Some would be following my son when he had his own manor. Once inside the six of us knelt and prayed. The tombs around us were a reminder of the duty we owed. Matthew, Mark and John had never been in the church. It was so small that the children of the town had to listen outside when we held services on Sunday. I saw the awe and wonder on their faces. My son held the sword before him like a cross and we left.
My men at arms and archers had dispersed. Richard looked back as we closed the door to the church. There were just two candles which lit the interior. He asked, “Will he not be afraid to be alone, my lord?”
“It is a vigil all knights must perform but he will be safe. The spirits of the past will watch over him. One day, Richard, and one day soon, you will undergo the same ceremony.”
I had never had to undergo a vigil. When I saw my son the next day, I saw that he had experienced something I had not and that it had had a profound effect on him. I went into the church to fetch him. It was strange but that one night seemed to have made him age. He simply said, “I am ready now!” As with prayers, one did not ask a knight about a vigil. It was between him and God.
I took him to his chamber where Matthew, Mark and John waited for us. He was stripped and then dressed again. We put on his gambeson and his mail. We strapped on his dagger and his sword. We had decided that Matthew would be his squire and so he carried his helmet. Mark carried mine. We were ready. We descended to the hall. This would be just my family. I had not invited Sir Fótr, Sir Edward and the others. They would come for the baptismal feast in the evening. William had asked for a small ceremony. He was the one to be knighted and it was his choice. Sir Geoffrey and Sir Robert were the only knights who were present. All of us were dressed in our mail. We three wore spurs. John carried William’s spurs. He looked more nervous than any. There was no set ceremony. King Richard had simply had me kneel before him and he touched my shoulders with his sword. I used the ceremony which appealed to me.
First, his mother handed him the surcoat she had made for him. It was the same blue as mine but instead of a yellow gryphon which filled the front, he had a small red one over his heart. It looked effective. When he had donned it she kissed him on the forehead. He had to bow his head to enable her to do so. I saw a tear trickle down her cheek. She was remembering Alfred.
William stood before me and all were silent. I drew my sword. “Kneel, William of Stockton.” He knelt and bowed his head, “By the power vested in me by King Henry of England, I dub you Sir William of Stockton.” I lightly touched his shoulders with my sword and then I sheathed it. I turned and John, who had been waiting for this moment, handed me the spurs. I gave them to him and then Matthew gave the helmet to John, taking the spurs from the page as he did so. “Rise Sir William and don your spurs.” Matthew fitted them and then stood.
Silence filled the room until Sir Geoffrey and Sir Robert stepped forward to clasp his arm. My son was a knight!
He turned to me and clasped my arm, “Thank you, father. I am pleased this was a small ceremony. I will see my peers later but for now, this is family and family is everything. I feel the presence of the Warlord.”
“Aye, you are right.” I touched the plaster-covered stone walls. “His spirit is in the very walls.”
Chapter 2
The baptism went well. I say went well for Thomas did not cry when his head was wet. His mother had. We came back into my castle and my wife hurried off to organise the feast. My knights began to arrive soon after noon. Sir Fótr, Sir Edward and Sir Gilles arrived first, closely followed by Sir William of Hartburn. His sons, Richard and Robert, were also due to be knighted. When they came, they joined my son and Sir Gilles. Along with Sir Robert’s squire, they were all keen to know what William felt. When a man was knighted then his world changed irrevocably.
Sir William of Hartburn said, “They are desperate to be knighted and, if truth be told, they should be but…”
I nodded, “But they cannot afford the expense.”
He shook his head, “We have been lucky in the wars but most of my coin was lost when we fled La Lude. They need a war or a chevauchée.”
“There is peace here on the border. Be careful what you wish for. Does Hartburn not provide all that you need?”
“It is a good manor but it cannot support three knights.” Sir Robert had joined us, “I fear that you will find that Redmarshal can only support one knight too, Sir Robert.”
“Aye, and Richard is now itching for his spurs. I can understand it.”
“Your wife has money, Sir Robert. She had it from my Aunt.”
“That is my wife’s. I am not the kind of knight to take from his wife. No, my brother will have to be patient.”
This was a celebration. My knights and squires enjoyed each other’s company. I sat in my chair and watched them. I was content. Alfred’s widow, Matilda, approached with a shy looking Henry Samuel at her side. “My lord, my son would speak with you.”
“What, Sam, surely you are not shy?” Once I would have picked him up and sat him on my knee. Now he was too big. He was close in age to John our new page. “What is it?”
He pointed at John who was standing close to Matthew and Mark. “He is a page and I am nearly as old as he is.”
I nodded, “Yet he is much bigger than you.”
“I am growing.”
I looked at his mother to try to read her face. I saw conflict. She knew that if her son was a page then he was on the road to becoming a knight. She did not wish to lose him and yet she knew that he was his father’s son. Perhaps William had chosen the right path when he had added John as a page. “You could be a page.” His face brightened. “Just so long as you know what that means. You would have to be at my beck and call while I was awake. You would have to serve us meals. You would need to groom my horses and help Mark to prepare my weapons. You would need to practise each day for many hours.”
He nodded, “I can do that!”
“Well, then I give you a week to think about it. Follow John and Mark. See what they do. Speak to them. Return at the end of seven days and give me your answer.”
“I am ready now!”
“Seven days!” I stood and shook his hand. He had seen warriors do that and knew what it meant. “Now go and speak with the others.” When he had gone, I said, “I can see that you are unhappy with his request.”
“I would be losing my child and he is so young.”
“He will still live in the castle and you shall see him each and every day.”
She put her hand on mine, “There will be no war, lord, will there?”
“I cannot divine the future and, although I do not see a war on the horizon you must steel yourself. One day war will come and when that day comes your son will need to be prepared.”
“Then I pray I am old and grey when that day arrives.”
Alfred, Rebekah and Sir Geoffrey’s son, also asked to be a page for his father. It was hard for him to say no. My grandsons had taken the first step along the road to becoming a knight.
The next day, when all the knights left to return to their home, the castle felt empty. My daughter, Rebekah, and her family left us. I began, along with William, the work of moulding the rough clay that was Matthew, Mark and John into warriors. They each had strength but no skills. Matthew and Mark had shown some skill with a sword but even Henry Samuel had had more training. This would be hard work. I used my men at arms to help me. We had wooden practice swords made and they sparred with the men at arms. I saw my grandson, Henry Samuel, watching enviously. He had used a small practise sword already and William had taught him basic moves. Now my son and the men at arms helped the squires and John. The second day we introduced them to horses. This was where Sam had an advantage. He had been riding since he could walk. Even though Alan Horse Master had chosen placid horses for them the three spent more time on the ground than in the saddle that first day. We alternated swords and spears on one day with horses on the next. They were given no respite at night for Geoffrey, my steward, taught them how to serve. This was the most alien of their tasks. In their own, humble homes, they ate with a spoon and their platter was often a piece of rye bread. They just drank small beer from a hand turned wood beaker. In my hall, they had to learn of knives, of plates, of goblets. It was much to take in. Once again Sam would have an easier time of it if he chose to be a page.
At the end of seven days, when I rose, Henry Samuel was waiting for me outside my chamber. I smiled, “Yes?”
“A week has passed, lord, and I have my answer.” I nodded. “I would be a page.”
“And you have told your mother?”
“Aye lord, she was upset. It did not make me change my mind. I will follow in my father’s footsteps.”
I took his arm, “Then Henry, son of Alfred, you shall be my page. We will get you tunics and surcoat. Go and find Mark. You begin your duties now!”
In many ways, it was easier now. The two squires were well matched and they could spar together. John and Sam also sparred. Although he was bigger and stronger, John could not best my grandson. He had been playing with wooden swords since he could walk.
However, the longer a bout went on the more he tired. When it came to hoops, Sam was superior to all of them, Mark and Matthew included. I had played hoops with him since he could just waddle about. The training was robust. Of course, his bruises and lumps upset his mother and grandmother but it would make him stronger.
The training progressed well. Then, after months of work and practice, a rider came from East Harlsey. Sir Richard sent me a message, the King was making royal progress. He would be heading for Stockton. Of course, that ended all training for we had quarters to prepare. It was not just the King we would have to accommodate, there would be his entourage. There could be more than three hundred people. Most would have to camp on the green by St. John’s well.
Seven days after the message arrived the long column of riders approached the castle. They reached the river in the late afternoon. It was strange to see the King without his advisers. He was now surrounded by barons he trusted. I had been one once and, I daresay, he still trusted me but I was not one of his inner circle. I saw him looking at the crenulated walls. When he dismounted, he pointed to them, “They could hold off an army, my lord.”
“Aye, Highness, and protect your river, the north and the main road south. I am ever your servant.”
It was the right thing to say and he nodded, “We stay just the night for we are heading to Norham. First, we visit with the Bishop in Durham. When I have refreshed myself, I would have a conference with you.”
Henry Samuel, John and the twins were now given duties they had not expected. They helped the King’s servants to serve him. It was an experience. The King emerged from his chamber an hour after he had arrived. “Come, we will take a turn about your walls. I can talk and it will help my appetite!
My men at arms knew the King and they understood his need for privacy. The sentries on my wall moved out of the way as we walked around my fighting platform. “When I leave tomorrow I would have you and your son accompany me to the north. My sister and her husband have been invited to Norham.” He smiled, “I think your presence might unnerve King Alexander, eh, Earl?”