by Griff Hosker
TARGETS OF TREACHERY
by
Griff Hosker
Copyright © Griff Hosker 2021
This edition published in 2021 by Lume Books
30 Great Guildford Street,
Borough, SE1 0HS
The right of Griff Hosker to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner.
Dedicated to Alice Rees, my first editor and a lovely lady. I shall miss working with you!
Table of Contents
Map of Northern Wales, 1277
List of Historical Characters in this Novel
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
The Village After the Work on the Defences
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Historical Notes
Map of Northern Wales, 1277
Author’s map
List of Historical Characters in this Novel
King Edward 1 of England
Queen Eleanor of England
Prince Edmund (the king’s brother)
William de Beauchamp (Earl of Warwick)
Sir Roger, 1st Baron Mortimer
Lady Maud (his wife)
Edmund Mortimer (his heir)
Roger Mortimer (his second son)
Otto de Grandson (Savoyard knight serving King Edward)
John de Vesci (a northern knight serving King Edward)
Prince Llywelyn ap Gruffydd (Prince of Wales)
Owain ap Gruffydd (Llywelyn’s brother and a prisoner of King Edward)
Dafydd ap Gruffydd (Llywelyn’s brother)
Gruffydd ap Gwenwynwyn (a Welsh lord from Powys)
Lady Hawise (his wife)
Gilbert de Clare, 7th Earl of Gloucester
John Giffard (an English soldier)
Stephen de Frankton (an English soldier)
Chapter 1
England, 1274
It was January and when I returned to England, with the woman who would be my wife and my men from the Crusades, I could not know that the new King of England, my master, Edward, and his wife, Eleanor, would take two years to return to England. In contrast to our new king, my men and I could not wait to get home, for we had invested our money wisely in silks and spices. We hoped that when we reached England, we would make ten times the price we had paid for them in the Holy Land. Due to many events beyond our control, we made even more, for we returned to a land that was more lawless than when we had left.
Robert Burnell, who had been left in charge of the country when King Henry became ill, was a fine administrator, but he was not a ruthless man and that was what was needed. As a result, we feared for our safety on the roads of England.
We stayed in London for just three days, but it was necessary, for we had goods to sell and items to buy. We hired a carter to take out purchases and our belongings with us. We rode through our homeland, heading for my village of Yarpole, as though we were going to war. My men were protective of Mary, the slave I had rescued from the Turks, as well as me, their paymaster. I had earned two wounds in the war, one in my back and one in my leg. Neither had threatened my life and would not impair me as an archer, but my men were concerned that I should not suffer another before I reached home.
Sarah, my housekeeper, and her son, James, my steward, were delighted to see me but Father Paul, my priest, was overjoyed when he saw I had brought a bride-to-be, for he had long thought that I should not be a bachelor.
The object of my affections, Mary, was overawed by it all; it was as warm a welcome as she could have hoped, and it contrasted with the weather. Although the weather in England was clement for the time of year, she had been brought up in hot climes and she found it almost bone-chillingly cold. That first evening, as we sat in my hall, having enjoyed a hastily prepared but nonetheless delightful meal, we two spoke. Sarah and James were preparing a chamber for her. My priest had made it quite clear that Mary had to be alone before we wed.
“I am so lucky, Gerald. I have a home for the first time in my life and it is a magnificent home. You are surrounded by the best of people, but yet I fear that I will let you down.”
“How can you do that? All you have to do is to be yourself.”
“You are a great lord. You told me that you were an archer, but I should have known from the way the queen spoke of you that you are more than that. You are close to the man who rules this land and I know that I will have to meet great ladies. They will see that I was a slave, and it will reflect badly upon you.”
I took her hand and kissed it. “I told you on the voyage home of my life. There are no secrets between us. I am a humble archer who has now been made a gentleman. I have done things which might have seen me hanged if events turned out differently. All that you endured was no fault of yours! No more talk of letting me down.” I waved a hand around the room. “While the banns are being read and we prepare for the wedding, give thought to how you would like to decorate our hall. I am a man who has neither the experience nor the eye to furnish a hall. In a day or two, we will ride to Wigmore and I will introduce you to Baron Mortimer and Lady Maud. He is the lord of the manor, but Lady Maud is the one who runs it! I think that you should meet. You will get on!”
I was proved correct. I knew not why, but Lady Maud had great affection for me, and it was not just because I had done great service for her. I believe she saw me as another child. She took to Mary immediately and as soon as she heard our news, she whisked her off to meet her ladies and to hear the details of our romance. Lady Maud ruled this part of the Marches because she knew all that was going on. The lords of the land told their wives their innermost thoughts and none could keep that information from Lady Maud.
I was left with Roger Mortimer, the baron. I had been away some time and now I saw that he had aged. He was an old man. Now I knew why he had not gone on crusade with us, for he was close to the king, both now and when he had been the prince, Lord Edward. I had given him a gift of wine and we drank it.
“Lord Edward, sorry, King Edward, although he has not yet been crowned, asked me to stay on the borders, for although the Treaty of Monmouth was signed, he did not completely trust the Welsh. It was good that I did, for Prince Llywelyn ap Gruffydd, their leader, has begun to take advantage of a sick king in King Henry and an absent warlord in Lord Edward. He has angered de Bohun and de Clare. He forbade de Clare to build his new castle at Caerphilly. Robert Burnell knows how to count and to tax but that is all. The sooner King Edward comes back to be crowned, the better.”
“He planned on travelling to Rome and I had the impression that he was in no hurry to return. He knows nothing of these matters, my lord. When we headed north, we heard of great restlessness in the land and we travelled armed.”
“You were wise to do so, my friend. Our only hope is that the brother of Prince Llywelyn, Dafy
dd ap Gruffydd, seeks to undermine him. He is an ambitious brother. I shall invite him to dine here before Easter, when the roads are better, so that you may meet with him.”
I shook my head. “Baron, I am an archer who is now elevated to be a gentleman. The politics of this land is far above my station.”
He poured us some more of my wine. “Did you think, when Lord Edward gave you Yarpole, that it was on a whim?” I nodded, for I had thought the land had just become vacant. “Then you are wrong, for he wants you here on this border. You have skills, Gerald Warbow; you are not only a good archer, possibly the best I have ever seen, but you are also a warlord, a leader of men. I know my own limitations. I am a fair swordsman, and I am brave enough, but you are like your master; you have a mind for war. You are well named.” He smiled. “And I am old. My bones ache these days. My sons, Roger and Edmund, will have to rule this border, but they are not yet ready. Until they are, I fear that you will need to be vigilant. But you are just recently returned home. You have a wedding to plan and lands to manage.”
“Aye, lord, and I need to know what my obligations to you are as Lord of the Manor.”
He shook his head. “I wish that all of those who owed me fealty were as keen to please. So long as you pay the taxes to my reeve when they are due and give me or the king forty days’ service, then I shall be a happy baron!”
“As the king has yet to return, I do not think that it is likely he will require service, and you say that there is a sort of peace along the borders, my lord?”
He shook his head. “There is anything but peace. The Welsh raid our farms with impunity and when we complain, Prince Llywelyn flourishes the treaty in our faces. So far no noble has died, but when they do…”
I said nothing but I knew that there had been deaths. The men and women who had died or been taken off to be slaves would not have been nobles. They would have been servants or tenants. They might have been a hired sword or even an archer.
“And what is my obligation, Sir Roger?”
“Six archers under your command.”
“And if I have more?”
He gave me a quizzical look. “Most tenants would rid themselves of extra mouths to feed and warriors to pay. Yarpole is not a rich manor, Gerald; make sure you can afford them.”
“I know not where you get that idea, my lord. Sarah and James have increased the yield from the land and reduced the burden on those who are tenanted to me. The village is a happy and harmonious place compared with what it was. We make a profit. Am I allowed to hire men at arms?”
He burst out laughing. “You are, but why should you? They are more expensive to maintain and you are an archer and a captain of archers.”
“And I have seen the merit of having a warrior with a sword, shield and spear close by. I have none in mind, but I believe that I could afford one.”
“If you do not object to giving me an answer, where will you find the coins to pay for your warband?”
“King Edward rewarded me for my services, and I did not waste it. We also took some treasure when we were in the Holy Land, and we invested all wisely. The spices, fine cloth and jewels we fetched back were sold at a great profit in London. My men do not require full wages, and each of them has a plot of land at Yarpole which they farm. They are content.”
“And you, my young friend, are lucky! Perhaps I should have gone on crusade too, and then I would be rich and could hire men at arms!”
I said nothing, for the rewards had come at great cost. King Edward had almost died! He would be a changed man when the crown was placed upon his head.
The ladies returned an hour after they had departed. To be truthful, I was eager to be away. I had much to plan and Sir Roger’s conversation was not particularly interesting. He was like most lords and too concerned with power and perceived slights from other nobles. I had thought Sir John Malton, who had been Lord Edward’s squire when I had first met him, was different, but he had shown me on the way back from the land of the Mongols that he was changing. I suppose the knight with whom I had the most in common was Sir Hamo l’Estrange, and I would never see him again, for he was married to a lady who was a virtual queen in her own land. His new elevated status would not change Hamo. Sir John, however, was another matter.
Lady Maud beamed. She always seemed to have a soft spot for me. Perhaps that was because it was I who had brought back the head of Simon de Montfort for her. “You have a most interesting and beautiful bride-to-be, Gerald, for a humble archer. I know of ladies who are noble-born but not as refined as Mary here, and to think she served Good Queen Eleanor! You are blessed, but then again, she could have done worse!” Lady Maud never minded about the sensibilities of others and I wondered if this jibe was at the expense of her husband.
“We shall see you at the wedding, of course. Make sure that we can attend, Gerald!”
That was a warning if ever I heard one. “Of course, Lady Maud.”
“And of course, Sir Roger will give a generous gift for the most renowned of his tenants. The man who saved the life of the king should have been rewarded more than you have, Gerald.”
With that, we were dismissed, and we rode home. I had taken six of my archers with me as an escort that was not for my protection, as I never feared brigands, but for Mary. She was unmarried and I wished her reputation to remain unsullied. Robin, son of Richard of Culcheth, led the five others who acted as bodyguards for Mary’s honour. He was tanned, for he had been to the Holy Land with me. Roger of Barnsley and William of Matlac, in contrast, appeared almost white. As the crusade grew more distant, the dark skin would fade.
I spoke to Mary as we rode. “Well, what did you think of Lady Maud?”
“She is the most terrifying woman I have ever met, and I would not like to get on the wrong side of her, but you are right. She has a soft spot in her heart for you and I think that there is no more well-meaning soul in Christendom, but when she hates…”
“Did she show you de Montfort’s pickled head?”
“I know she hated him, but she has…?”
I nodded. “I brought it from the field of battle to her. The only surviving offspring of that rebel is Eleanor de Montfort and she is in France. If she were any closer, then Lady Maud would seek some way of hurting her.”
We rode in silence for a mile or two. Mary was well wrapped in furs, and the clear blue skies allowed her to see the beautiful but potentially deadly borderlands. Her breath appeared before her fur lined hood. Darkness would soon come, but by then, we would be safe in my hall before a roaring fire with the finest of foods prepared by Sarah and the servants.
“Do you mind having to set the date of our marriage on the whim of Lady Maud?”
“Do not forget that I was a slave for most of my life until I met you. For me, living my life by the orders of others is normal. I care not when we are wed, just that we are, for I would put my past behind me and live in this future with you. I like your home, if not the climate!”
I laughed. “We can always wrap up against the cold.”
Even though a lord and lady would be in attendance, we determined to make those two the only wedding guests from outside the manor. I knew not if Sir John Malton had returned yet, but I would not invite him, even though he had been there when I had met Mary, for he lived on the other side of the country. However, the sheer numbers involved meant that we had to buy more platters and goblets, as well as a set of good knives with which to cut meat. The food was easy; my archers and I would hunt in the wood which came with the manor. We would act as husbandmen and ensure that whatever animals we took would be those likely to die before winter was out. As Sarah said, there were ways to cook any meat and make it delicious. Mary spent a great deal of time with Sarah, for she had much to learn. Cooking and cleaning had not been part of her duties. She had been a slave but a specialised one.
I stood, one day, in the corner of the kitchen as Sarah taught Mary how to make that most basic of foods after bread: pottage. I had grown up e
ating this on a daily basis. It usually began life on Monday when whatever the meal had been on the holy day, Sunday, was recooked. We were luckier than most people, for we had access to rabbits, ham and venison. When the goats we used for milking dried up, then they might be butchered. To whatever leftover meat there was, a stock would be added with the bones of the animal and then whatever vegetables were available.
Mary asked questions all the time as Sarah gave her a lesson. “What are skirrets, Sarah?”
“Why, my lovely, they are like parsnips but a little smaller!”
My soon-to-be wife was a quick learner and, to be truthful, I quite enjoyed her mistakes! I could not help but smile, one Friday, as Sarah prepared our meal. It was the law that no meat was to be eaten on Fridays and Sarah had managed to acquire a beaver. The delicacy of the tail would be served to us whilst the workers would enjoy the rest.
Mary turned to me. “But Gerald, this is not a fish! It has fur!”
Sarah nodded and said firmly, “It swims and lives in the water. It is a fish!”
Every day was a learning experience for Mary. Her lessons allowed me to ride my lands and visit my village. I had grown up poor, and I appreciated not only the life I had but the responsibility I owed to those who lived under my care. I had experienced the worst of masters and whilst I was not yet a lord, I knew my duty. I rode with James and he re-introduced me to the village and my tenants. The previous owner had been not only a supporter of de Montfort but also a bad landlord. In the time I had been landlord, many people who had left had since returned. That was largely down to James and his mother. Yarpole was their home.