by K T Findlay
Confident, secure of their place in their Prince’s affections, they radiated a presence greater than all but the King and Queen. Wulfstan turned, and rose from his chair to greet them. ‘You both look magnificent! Welcome to your rightful places.’
He was rewarded with two deep smiles, and four sparkling eyes.
Behind them, Hengist was his usual impassive self. Ravena, as dignified as possible, was holding their old slave girl clothes in her arms. She shook her head in reply to the question on Wulfstan’s face.
He nodded in understanding. ‘Ravena, please return Grimketil’s property to him.’
She nodded, and walked quickly across to Grimketil’s table, and offered him the cloth bundle. Snarling at her, he snatched it from her arms, scowled angrily at Rowena and Berthilda, and threw it onto the fire.
‘You’ll both follow them in a year’s time! Make the most of now, because your future is short indeed!’
Both women simply turned away from him to look at Wulfstan. ‘What would you have us do now?’ asked Rowena.
Wulfstan thought for a moment. Then he beckoned her head down to his, and whispered into her ear. Initially she shot back to the vertical, looking shocked and fearful, but he grinned, gently took her hand, and with the softest of pressures once more brought her ear down to his mouth. When he had finished, her steely smile was once more in evidence. She took Berthilda’s hand, and started to lead her out to the kitchen.
‘Oh Rowena?’ called Wulfstan.
She turned back towards him. ‘Yes Your Highness?’
‘I’ll have one too please.’ Then he winked. ‘But not your special strength brew.’
She nodded, face impassive.
They returned with a horn of beer in each hand. Rowena handed her small one to Wulfstan, then led Berthilda across to Grimketil’s table.
Startled, he recoiled a little. ‘What is it? What do you want?’
‘The Prince has asked us to render you and your two leading men one last service, a sort of goodbye, until we meet again in a year’s time.’ and she proffered him her remaining horn.
Still bemused, he accepted it while Berthilda handed her horns to the men on either side of him.
‘I thought Grimketil,’ said Thomas as the women walked back towards him, ‘that you should be allowed one last service from these two wonderful ladies, a parting gift if you like. As it’s beer you seemed to send them for most often tonight, that’s what I chose. One last toast?’ and he raised his horn.
Grimketil paused, then nodded to his two men. The three raised their horns to Wulfstan, who raised his in turn.
Thomas whooped in delight.
5 First Steps
After the feast, the five of them returned to the room Thomas had slept in during the day. Wulfstan had Ravena arrange for the delivery of three more palliasses, along with pillows and blankets.
He undressed and climbed into the bed, pulling the blankets over himself.
The girls took off their gowns, laying them carefully on top of the big carved chest at the foot of the bed, before claiming the two palliasses next to him.
Hengist placed his palliasse across the closed door and went to sleep still dressed, his sword close by.
Wulfstan wanted some answers from Thomas before he went to sleep.
‘How are you going to win with girls? What do you know about running a manor? What actually are you? When - ?’
Thomas cut off the stream of questions before Wulfstan got up too much of a head of steam.
‘Woah there! One at a time lad. Let’s start with what I am. I come from the twenty first century, and I’m a museum curator.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Someone who knows a lot of stuff about the past, who can look after things, and teach people about them. That’s why I seem to know so much.’
‘You’re from the future? Is it a lot different to here?’
‘More different than you can possibly imagine.’ laughed Thomas. ‘But you’ll see some of it soon.’
‘Why is that?’
‘Well, to run a manor better than anyone else, I am going to bring in a few new things you won’t have come across before.’
‘And winning the fight?’
‘Same reason. I know different ways of fighting, and how to make weapons people have never seen in your world.’
‘Can you do that on your own?’
‘No.’ Thomas admitted. ‘And that is a bit of a challenge. Finding the right kind of girl is going to be hard enough. We also need to find people I can teach, who can not only do what I need them to do, but can then teach more people in turn. That’s going to be hard. It’s also going to take money, a lot! I have some ideas about that too, but it takes money to make money and we don’t actually have any.’
‘What sort of ideas?’ Wulfstan grimaced. His head was still hurting him a lot.
‘I don’t know which ones will work yet. I need to find out a bit more first. Perhaps we should discuss this tomorrow? I really think you need to sleep now, and give that head a chance to rest.’
Wulfstan wasn’t too keen on that suggestion, but another wave of pain overcame his reluctance. As he drifted off to sleep, Thomas went out to watch the barn owls hunting, something that kept him fascinated until dawn.
The four with bodies to look after all slept well. Even Hengist managed to find enough peace within himself to drift off.
During breakfast the following morning, Wulfstan found out a bit more about Rowena and Berthilda.
‘My father is a thegn near Nottingham, and Berthilda’s father is our neighbour. We’ve been friends our whole lives.’ said Rowena.
Berthilda chipped in. ‘We did everything together, learning to ride, to shoot, to use knives. Just like the boys. Our mothers disapproved, but our fathers made allowances.’ She grinned. ‘We got to be better than the boys at some things, especially archery and riding.’
‘Well, you did!’ riposted Rowena. ‘I’m not as good as you.’
‘You’re better with a knife.’ said Berthilda.
Rowena considered this, before nodding. ‘I suppose that’s true.’
‘So how on earth did Grimketil manage to get his hooks into you?’ asked Wulfstan.
‘We were swimming in the river, about a mile from home. He and his men caught us unawares and there was nothing we could do.’ said Rowena frowning.
‘But why didn’t your fathers do something after you were taken?’ asked Wulfstan.
Berthilda sighed sadly. ‘Grimketil made sure we knew that if one of us tried to escape, he’d kill the other. When he cut my hair, one of his men had his knife to Rowena’s throat. Then they held the knife to mine when they cut hers. He kept us apart a lot of the time, so we never found an opportunity to try and escape together.’
Rowena closed the loop. ‘It was only two weeks ago. Our fathers are busy maintaining the defences up there. They’ll assume the Northumbrians have taken us. They haven’t been to court since then and so won’t know about Grimketil.’
‘Ye gods.’ said Wulfstan. ‘Won’t your fathers kill him when they find out?’
Rowena shook her head. ‘Unlikely. Grimketil is a favourite of the King. You saw that last night. And Grimketil’s warriors are better than my father’s. He wouldn’t stand a chance.’
Wulfstan frowned. ‘Well then, we must get a message to them to let them know you’re okay, and what’s afoot. And that they aren’t to do anything, or we’ll lose our bet! They can do what they like if we lose, but we’ll try to make sure that doesn’t happen!’
After breakfast Wulfstan led them all out into the marketplace. He equipped both girls with new underdresses, dresses and shoes. He’d had to borrow some temporary clothes for them from Ravena before they went out, as the only clothes they had were the two gowns, which were hardly appropriate for wading through the doings of animals, and other filth that littered the marketplace.
Under Thomas’s urging, and much to their surprise, he also bought each of
them a complete set of men’s clothing, explaining that dresses were not going to work well for what they were going to be doing.
Last on the clothing front, he bought a complete set of new clothes for Ravena as a thank you present. They were much nicer than the ones she already had.
He sent the bill for all this to his father.
Then they visited the arms merchants.
‘This lady will be in charge of choosing our bows.’ he said to the man, indicating Berthilda.
The merchant came back with some very polished looking weapons. Berthilda looked at them carefully. She turned them over in her hands, one at a time, looking at the grain and the knots. After stringing what she assessed as the best of them, she took a practice shot at a target thirty yards away. She shook her head.
‘Very pretty.’ she said. ‘Just not as good as we’d like. Something with a bit more strength in it please, and with more consistent feel.’
The merchant blustered. ‘With all due respect missus, that’s a fine bow for a woman! The most handsome of my entire stock!’
She looked him firmly in the eye. ‘I don’t care what they look like. I care how they shoot!’
The merchant wasn’t done yet. ‘But do these other ladies have your strength missus? Can they pull a stronger bow?’
She nodded. ‘A fair point. They will, with practice. Better bows please, or we can always ask your competition.’
The man gave up. ‘As you wish missus. As you wish.’ He came back with four rather ugly looking bows. ‘These are finest English yew. I’m sorry I don’t have any Scandinavian at present. In fact nobody does. These are the best I have for war.’
Berthilda tried a few practice shots. All but the first went straight into the bullseye at thirty yards. She nodded with satisfaction. ‘Much better. A bit strong for the others I admit, but they’ll manage with a bit of practice. We’ll have four quivers of broadhead arrows, and two with bodkin heads for each of us.’
The bodkins were unusual in that the heads were simple points, especially made to pierce armour. Wulfstan was impressed. ‘You really do know your stuff Berthilda.’
She grinned. ‘I know how to shoot well too!’
‘So I saw!’ he said. ‘I hope you are also a good teacher because you’ll need to train us all up to your standard.’
She beamed with pleasure at this display of trust and respect. ‘What a difference a day makes!’ she thought.
Wulfstan sent the bill to Offa…
‘Now,” he said, “I believe you’re a pretty good horsewoman too. Let’s go and choose our mounts.’
Being the palace marketplace with the King in residence, some of the finest horses in the country were there. They did an initial check of all three horse merchants to see just what was on offer, before they settled down to the selection process.
‘We’ll start with one for you Hengist.’ said Thomas.
‘But I already have a horse Your Highness.’ said Hengist.
‘That’s true, but he’s your personal mount. I’m going to get you one specifically for our challenge. That way, if anything happens to it, you’ll still have your own. Now, go and choose one, and don’t worry about the money. You can get your own back on my father at this point!’ he laughed.
Hengist grinned, a little sheepishly, then picked out a beautiful piebald stallion that at 14 hands was one of the biggest in the country. He also seemed to have a mind of his own, but Hengist was confident he could handle him.
Rowena fell for an almost pure white gelding. The horse was beautifully muscled, yet gentle in nature. When she was astride it, with her glorious red hair and pale complexion, the effect was otherworldly.
Berthilda chose a lovely roan gelding with three white feet. He wasn’t quite as good looking as the other two horses, but handsome enough and Berthilda sensed something in him. He in turn seemed to bond almost instantly with her.
That left Wulfstan, but at this precise moment he found himself outside the body again, watching Thomas.
‘Bother! I could get really tired of this!’ he shouted. ‘Oh well, we both want the same one, so go get him Thomas.’
From the moment they’d seen him, Thomas and Wulfstan’s hearts had settled on an almost pure black gelding. Its muscles rippled under the sheen of its coat as it stood proud and aloof, held by the merchant’s servant.
The boy was bored and began to play a game, tossing the end of the lead rope into the air and catching it in the same hand. The higher he tossed it, the less accurate he became, and eventually he got it wrong. The end knot landed heavily on the horse’s nose, causing it to flick its head in alarm. The boy took the blow full in the face and was sent flying. The merchant rushed up and prepared to strike the horse with his whip, but Thomas leapt between them and held up his hand to stop him.
‘Your Highness!’ called Hengist. ‘You should stay back! He could flatten you!’
Thomas turned slowly to face the horse, who watched him warily. He held out his hands in front of him, open, showing he had nothing in them before taking a step slowly towards the animal. The horse stepped skittishly away, keeping the distance the same.
Thomas cocked his head to one side, dropped his shoulder, and snaked his head gently towards it.
The horse stood still, watching carefully.
Then Thomas turned his body so he was parallel to the horse, and again cocked and snaked his head.
The horse remained still.
Another couple of rounds of this and Thomas was next to the horse. He held up the back of his hand, limp, so the horse could smell him. It began to nuzzle him gently, and in turn allowed Thomas to softly stroke its nose.
Within a minute it was calm enough for Thomas to nestle his forehead into its neck. The horse lowered its own head over Thomas’ shoulder, and closed its eyes in pleasure as the little human scratched it behind the ears.
‘We’ll take him.’ said Thomas.
The others were watching him with astonishment. He shrugged his shoulders with an embarrassed smile. ‘I just behaved like a horse. I used my body like another horse would, and he understood I meant him no harm.’
‘But where did you learn how to do that?’ asked the merchant. ‘It’s like magic!’
Thomas shook his head. ‘No. Not like magic. I’ve been watching horses for a long time, and learned how they behave, how they move. I thought that if I tried to speak their language, it might help, and it did. Berthilda does it too if you watch her. That’s why she’s so good with them. They trust her.’
‘I do that?’ asked Berthilda.
‘Sort of, only you’re much better than I am. For you it’s a natural thing. You’re just not aware you do it. But how many others can ride with no reins? Very few. The reason you can, is that they trust you, and you’re directing them with your legs. That’s all they need from you. It’s a gift, but it isn’t magic.’
They went on to buy another ten horses, eight for the other girls he would have to find, and two heavier ones for reasons he kept to himself. The merchants couldn’t believe their luck.
Wulfstan had been busy throughout, checking out the horses’ feet, making sure they hadn’t been gingered up for the punters, and reporting back everything he found to Thomas.
‘Why did you buy them all before we have the other girls?’ asked Rowena.
‘Because the court moves on soon, and these merchants will move with it. If we want the best horses we have to buy now.’ Thomas replied.
Then they went on to buy a sword each. Thomas was dismayed, but not surprised, at the poor quality of the metal, amazing Hengist with his ability to spot the flaws. Swords were relatively rare in the Dark Ages, and very expensive, but the court market tried to cater to all tastes. Anglo Saxon swords were made for slashing, weighted towards the point to increase the impact of the blows. You needed to be very strong to use them, much stronger than Wulfstan and the girls, but Thomas had plans.
✽✽✽
Meanwhile, Wulfstan had left the
market and was hovering in the King’s chamber when the first of the bills arrived, carried by a steward. Offa’s eyebrows rose a little when he was told the amount, but he paid up without a murmur.
He was less sanguine about the second, and by the time the tenth, eleventh and twelfth had made their appearance, he was incandescent. They were for the fourteen finest horses in the market. An astronomical cost!
‘Bring that wretched brat to me this instant!!’ he roared.
‘What’s the matter dear?’ asked the Queen, who had just walked into the hall.
‘Your son is spending gold and silver as if it’s water!!! And he’s sending me the bills!! How dare he mislead the merchants in this way?!? How dare he assume I’ll pay for his latest games?!?!’
The Queen cocked her head to the right, her eyes twinkling. ‘Are the bills for things to equip him and the girls?’
Offa paused in mid rant. ‘Yes! So what?’
‘Well you can hardly complain dear. You told him you would not only buy whatever girls he wanted, but would also pay to equip and train them. You placed no conditions on that, but you did put him in a position where he will almost certainly lose. So, you can hardly blame him for getting the best he can find.’
Offa looked angrily into her still twinkling eyes. His glare would have terrified any other person in the land, but she knew her man, and fearsome monarch though he was, she knew he loved her above all else and would never harm her. More than that, he trusted her judgement. It helped him to keep his balance.
Finally, his face broke into a laugh. ‘Alright Cynethryth! You’re right. What does it matter? There’s plenty of gold after all. Let him have his trinkets. But I’ll make him eat humble pie when he caves in and begs pardon for his stupid pig headedness.’
The twinkles continued. ‘Oh I don’t think he’ll cave in dear. I believe he has every intention of winning the bet, and surviving. That knock on the head has changed him more than you could ever guess. He’s all grown up now, a man in mind, intelligent, wise, and determined. I think he’s going to win.’