by Griff Hosker
I rode Hilda, my stout palfrey. Too old for war she was a comfortable horse to ride and I would be able to rest Hawk and Hart. It was just a mile or so to Flore but it took me a long time to reach it due to the conversations with those who worked my land and walked my roads. I liked to think that I was well thought of but a lord never really knew for they all owed you service and you were their master. Freedom was an illusion even for me. When the Prince and the King demanded then I came running. Harry was stripped to the waist and working with some men. They were using a treadmill crane to lift some stones into place. He was building a tower to defend his manor.
He jumped down and ran to me, “I heard you were back and had you not called I would have visited this night.”
“Then come anyway for your mother is organising a feast and I do not eat as much as I once did. I shall need your healthy appetite to help me to demolish the mountain she will prepare!”
“And I will be there. I have yet to find a cook.” He waved a hand at the men and youths around him, “Instead I hired warriors first.” I looked at them and saw that they were all strong but they were far younger than my men. That was to be expected. Mine had been with me for a long time. “I have yet to find a squire but I will find one. I thought it more important to secure my home and train my men. I only need a squire when I go to war and, as you are home, then I do not think that will be any time soon!”
I nodded and told him all that had happened since he had returned. “So, you missed nothing except for the humiliation of a French lord. I will not stop your work. We can speak this night. I ride to Northampton to speak with your brother and see if I am needed as Sherriff.”
The road between Flore and Northampton was quiet for it was a country road and this was approaching the middle of autumn. I had my sword hanging from my belt and I felt safe. I was Sherriff of the county and if I was in danger then it was a poor state of affairs. Once I reached the main road then the traffic became heavier and I was anonymous for these were not my people. My cloak hid my livery and the people I met were heading north or south and trying to travel quickly. They probably took me for a merchant. I quite enjoyed the anonymity. Once I reached the gates of the town, of course, all of that changed. Two of the sentries escorted me to the castle, clearing the way for me. Both had served me until they settled down with families and my son took them on as part of the garrison.
Thomas was now twenty-two. He no longer looked young although he had not yet grown the paunch which many in his position might have done. Even Henry of Stratford had a bigger waist than when he had been younger. We embraced for I had not seen him for a long time. It had been Shrewsbury when last I had spent any time with him.
“Father, it is good to see you. Are you home for good?” I heard the plea in his voice. He was now a husband and he would have visited my wife often. The loss of his sister would have made him aware of his own mortality. As warriors, we were used to the prospect of death on a battlefield but there was something more frightening about the randomness of death from some ailment which had neither name nor cause. It had taken Mary and spared Harry. Why?
“For the winter and spring at the least, Thomas, and I hear that you are an uncle and I have a granddaughter.”
He nodded, “And she is a delight. I have seen her but a few times but she is more beautiful each time I see her; my sister and brother in law are lucky. We hope for a girl next time for we plan to have more children. Come, Mary will be pleased to see you.” I did not mean to react but Tom’s wife and my daughter shared a name and the use of it struck me like an arrow. “I am sorry, father, I…”
“It is I who should apologise. It took me by surprise is all. Now take me to my daughter in law and your son!”
Mary was a delight and always had been. As soon as Thomas had said he wished to marry her it was as though it was meant to be and I could not have chosen a better wife for him. She completed him and together they were better than they were as man and woman. As for Henry, my grandson, he was growing and he hurled himself at me as soon as I entered the room. Thomas was right, he had grown and he took after my side of the family for he was stockily built.
“Grandda!”
He could speak and I found myself laughing and crying at the same time as I swung him around. “Who is this mighty warrior you have kept hidden from me, my son? He looks like he could stand in a shield wall.”
I put him down and he said, “Me is Henry!”
Mary said, “I am Henry! Have you forgotten? You are the son of a lord and you must speak properly.”
He nodded and stood straighter, “I am Henry like my uncle!”
He sounded like he had been practising. Tom said, “We heard that you were on your way home and when we told Henry he pestered us asking when you would come here.”
I knelt. “Well Henry, I am here now and I shall try to see you as often as I can!”
He looked crestfallen and Tom said, “I told you, Henry, your grandfather will be busy for he is Sherriff.”
Shaking my head, “I promise that I will visit here and play with you as often as I can and I will take you riding.” I looked at Tom, “He can ride, can he not?”
“After a fashion but with you to help him he will get better.”
I spent a delightful few hours with Henry. My son took me to show me Henry’s pony. The boy could sit on it but he was so young that he could do little more. I was able to give him tips as I walked the pony around the inner ward. I was loving every moment of our time together but, inevitably, the steward found me and I was forced to spend an hour in a chamber reading and signing papers. I knew that I had neglected my duties and while it was not my fault, I would have to try to make up for the time I had lost.
I left after lunch and headed back to Kislingbury to see my daughter and her family. Sir Richard had a fine manor but there was no castle and no guards. It was a fine hall with a moat but that was its only defence. Servants must have seen me coming for I was greeted at the door.
“Congratulations Richard. Thank you for my granddaughter!”
“She is lovely and her big brother adores her. He is very protective of her. We have often spoken of you since you have been away but I confess that he may be shy for he does not know you.”
“And that is my fault. I will be grateful if he does not run away screaming!”
In the event, it all went well. Part of that was the fact that my daughter, Eleanor, when she saw me enter, handed the baby to a nurse and rushed, weeping, into my arms, “Father, you are home and you are safe. I have prayed each night for you.”
“And I am safe. Your daughter seems to be everyone’s favourite but where is my eldest grandson? Where is Master William?”
Shyly he came from behind his mother’s chair where he had been hiding. He had retreated there when I had entered. I had seen him but aware of Richard’s words I had allowed Eleanor to greet me.
He stood straight and said, “I am William, granddad!”
I bent down and gently picked him up. I did not risk hugging him in case he burst into tears. I smiled, “And have you not grown? You will grow to be a warrior like your father.”
His eyes lit up and he threw his arms around my neck. He squeezed so hard that I thought I would choke and yet I would not stop it for I felt a peace inside me I had not felt for a long time. It was the purity of a child’s love.”
He pulled away and said, “Will you play with me?”
Before I could answer Eleanor said, “Now, Will, your grandfather needs to see Beatrice.”
William nodded, “Bea is my sister and I love her.” The way he spoke made me think that he had practised for I had seen other children his age and he could speak better than they. I put that down to his mother who was so well-spoken.
Eleanor stood and handed me the baby. She had blond hair but I knew that many babies began with blond hair and then it changed. I was fearful I would crush her and I was glad that I had not donned mail and just wore my houppelande. It was
well made and soft. I looked at Beatrice who opened her eyes. They were the bluest eyes I had ever seen. I could not help smiling and when she smiled back, I thought my heart would break. She was so delicate I thought she would break but that smile stole my heart forever. I think it was because I had lost Mary and that I had not said all I should have said to her while she was alive. I would not make the same mistake with my first granddaughter.
I stroked her cheek with my forefinger and she smiled even more and giggled. I spoke quietly for my words were intended just for her, “I am your grandfather, Beatrice, and I will do all in my power to see you grow up safely. Whatever you and your brother need, you shall have and know that I will always be there for you and William as well as your cousin Henry. Now I shall hand you back for I do not wish to push my luck.” I handed her to Eleanor who looked fit to burst. “She is beautiful, like her mother.” Then I turned to William, “Now then, what shall we play for I have seen that you already have the skills of a scout? Shall we play hide and seek?”
I spent the rest of this short day with my daughter and her family and when I left to ride home, I was reluctant to do so.
The ride back was lonely for it was dusk and it was cold and damp. It was exacerbated by the fact that Will had cried when I had left and that had upset me. He had not wanted me to go and I had not wished to leave. Richard had laughed and told me that he would soon get over it. That was cold comfort to me for I felt I was the cause of the tears.
As the last of the harvest was gathered in and the days grew shorter, colder and wetter, I got into the habit of not having to wear mail and being able to ride alone as I travelled to Northampton and to Flore. I did not always ride alone; sometimes Abelard came with me and sometimes Harry. I managed to see my three grandchildren four or five times a week. Often, I would take a detour to see my daughter and my other grandchildren on the same day that I saw Henry. I could not get enough of them and my days were filled with them. When I was not playing with my three grandchildren, I had to be the Sherriff and any spare time I had was given to my son, Harry, and his new defences. I went to bed each night exhausted but I minded not for this was my work for my family and not my work for the House of Lancaster.
We moved to Northampton for the twelve days of Christmas. I invited all of my family to be there with me for I wanted us to be together. Although it meant leaving Weedon my wife was happy to have her family all around her. This was the first Christmas we had spent together since Mary had been taken from us and she was remembered by us all but not in a maudlin way. We spoke, as we dined or sat before the huge fire in the hall, of what she would have made of the three grandchildren who would have been her niece and nephews and it was as though she had not died but was in another room. I can explain it no better than that. There were no tears but there were fond smiles of remembrance for a girl who would have grown into a wonderful woman, mother and wife.
When we all left after the twelve days of Christmas to return to our own manors, I felt sad that we could not all continue to live in the one huge castle but as my wife pointed out on the way home, it was the King’s castle and could be taken from us at a whim. Weedon was our home and my wife decided, as we neared it, to begin improvements and make it big enough for our expanding family. It was the final act in healing after Mary’s death for the project gave her purpose and she bustled about as she had in the days before Mary had died.
Once the days began to lengthen, I took it upon myself to help Harry find a squire. Old Sir Geoffrey Fitzwaller lived at Althorp. His son and daughter in law had both died. His son had fallen at Shrewsbury and his wife died, it was said, of a broken heart at his loss. Old Geoffrey was not a well man but he did his best to look after his grandson, Edward. Edward was eleven years old and a charming boy. I visited the old man regularly for I had known his son and I had seen him fall defending the King’s standard. One day the old man beckoned me to his side, “William, I am dying. The doctors try to hide it but a man knows when his body is failing. I am prepared to meet my maker and be reunited with my family but I have a grandson who needs care.”
“And I will have him as my ward, my lord.”
He shook his head, “No, for I would have him become a knight and to do that he needs to be a squire. Your son, Sir Henry, needs a squire. This way you could watch over him and he could fulfil my dream.”
“But does he want this, Sir Geoffrey?”
“He does but you should ask him and if he says nay then he shall be your ward. I leave him my estate and money in any case.”
The old man was right and Edward was delighted to be given the chance to become a knight as his father had been. When Sir Geoffrey died, at the end of February, we closed up the house and I took him to Flore. One life had ended but another had begun. Such was our world. Harry took to the boy immediately and I saw, once more, the fingers of fate pointing and directing whence we should go.
I knew that my time at Weedon was coming to a close for Prince Henry would be keen to get back to Wales and end the rebellion. I knew this from the letters he sent to me. They were brief, almost terse, but that was Prince Henry’s way and I liked it. There were no flowery phrases nor lengthy salutations. He came to the point quickly. From his missives, I learned that most of the French had left Wales in November. That was dictated by the climate and the country; their horses needed vast amounts of fodder and there was little to be had in west Wales. His father’s condition had worsened and he rarely left Windsor. That was confirmed by news from travellers on the road and the gossip in Northampton market. I also learned, from the market, that there was much disquiet in the land about the arbitrary execution of the Archbishop of York. It fuelled the ill-feeling in the north and I knew that the rebellion there was not over.
A week after Sir Geoffrey had died, we also had an unexpected visitor. It was Sir Ralph, my former squire. He brought a gift of two horses and news that he had married. His bride was the niece of Sir Ralph Neville, Anne Willoughby. His joy in the marriage was obvious and his visit meant we all decamped to Northampton for Thomas and Harry were great friends with Sir Ralph. In a quiet reflective moment, Sir Ralph warned me about the danger in the north. “The King should know that the Lord of the Northern Marches, Sir Ralph Neville, has an almost impossible task, Sir William. The King confiscated the Percy land. There are many people who are still loyal to the Percy family and do not like the fact that King Henry has brought the rule of England to Northumberland. North of the Tyne is now a dangerous land and the Sherriff of Newcastle barely controls the land around his walls. The land controlled by the Earl of Westmoreland, close to Middleham and Richmond is loyal but York is filled with malcontents who are drawn to the city like flies to a dunghill. The Earl has strengthened Raby Castle and his castle at Sherriff Hutton is as strong as Windsor. Loyal folk will have a refuge but if the rebellion comes it is hard to see how we could stem the tide for the Scots would support a rebellion. They resent the fact that the heir to their crown is in England as a prisoner.”
I knew from Prince Henry’s letters that King Henry had rewarded Sir Thomas Rokeby who had been with us in Wales with the title of High Sheriff of Northumberland. He still lived by the Tees but he was another ally and I told Sir Ralph of him. “He is a good man and although young, he is loyal to the King.”
“That may be, my lord, but his lands are far from Northumberland. It is said that Lord Bardolf’s family, who have lands in Nottinghamshire and Leicestershire are also unhappy that Lord Bardolf is forced to live in exile in Scotland. When I came south, I heard disturbing news in the inns. Rebellion is being spoken there and the ordinary folk say that the King’s ailment is a punishment from God for his execution of Archbishop Scrope.”
I shook my head, “Superstition, for the King was ill before the Archbishop died. It is like this belief that King Richard still lives!”
“That is as may be, lord, but it is what they believe and no amount of rhetoric from a Sherriff will change that!”
When Ra
lph returned north, laden with gifts for his mother and new bride I wrote to Prince Henry to inform him of the new threat from the north. That his father did not act immediately could have had dramatic ramifications on the north but that threat was seen the lesser of the two. Wales was still the priority.
As I rode back to Weedon with Harry and my family I discussed with him the problems we faced. “The north is one thing but if Nottinghamshire and Leicestershire rise in rebellion then we are threatened here in Northamptonshire. My castle is the only one which could withstand an enemy. I will have to ride to Nottingham and speak with the High Sherriff there.”
“But are they not changed each year, sometimes sooner?”
“Aye, and that makes it even more urgent that I travel there for the new Sherriff may either have no idea of the threat or he may be part of it.”
“Then I shall come with you.” His voice was firm and this was no longer my young squire and son. This was a lord in his own right who would not let me go into danger.
“Aye. That might be for the best and it would give your new squire the chance to learn more about becoming a knight.”
I took a healthy escort for the relatively short ride north to Nottingham Castle. I discovered that the new Sherriff was a man called Sir Nicholas Montgomery. I knew little of him and that, in itself, was a worry. I knew all the knights who were loyal to the King for I had fought alongside them at Shrewsbury. I did not know Sir Nicholas Montgomery and that would influence my judgement when we met.
This was Edward’s first excursion as a squire. He was able to ride but he had no idea of the other tasks which would be required of him as a squire. Abelard rode with him and coached him on the sixty-odd miles north. As Sherriff of Northampton, we were accorded hospitality on the way north but we only made one stop. Nottingham Castle was imposing and the bustling town was slightly larger than Northampton. In the time of King John, it had been the centre of that King’s power but things had changed since and King Henry, as King Richard before him, had made their home closer to London; the north was abandoned. I wondered at the wisdom of that. My banner was well known as was my association with King Henry and we were treated civilly when we arrived.