In Two Minds

by K T Findlay

  Cuthbert scowled, but moved towards the door, his fist twitching towards the slave as he went. She squealed, and cowered further behind Thomas.

  ‘He has a male slave too!’ said Wulfstan. ‘He ran off into the woods.’

  ‘Wait Cuthbert. I believe you have a male slave also? Here is a coin for him as well. I am buying him from you. If you see him, send him to me.’

  Sulkily the priest took the coin and shuffled towards the door once more.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow Cuthbert.’ called Thomas after him.

  The priest’s back gave away nothing.

  Shaking his head, Thomas addressed his new acquisition. ‘What’s your name miss?’

  ‘Sherelda, Your Highness.’ she quivered.

  ‘Well Sherelda, I think we need to get you cleaned up, properly fed, and some new clothes. Rowena and Berthilda, could you please find people to show you where everything is, and see those things are done? I want you both to stay with her at all times between now and when we deal with Cuthbert tomorrow morning. She must be protected every moment until then.’

  ‘Yes Your Highness.’ nodded Rowena.

  Hengist came running in, panting with the exertion. ‘Your Highness! They say Cuthbert went mad and attacked you!’

  Thomas rested his hand lightly on Hengist’s arm. ‘Not me. He was after someone else who just happened to run into me. Do you know Sherelda?’

  Hengist stared at the slave woman. ‘Not well. She’s Cuthbert’s slave isn’t she? But she was hardly ever out of his hut.’

  ‘I’ve just bought her from him. Very much against his will I may say. He was intent on killing her because she overheard him threatening to kill me.’

  Hengist started. ‘No! Surely not? He’s not so stupid as that?’

  ‘Just how long has he been priest here Hengist?’

  ‘About two months now.’

  ‘Why did you keep him? He’s vile!’

  Hengist shrugged his shoulders helplessly. ‘The Archbishop himself appointed him, and made it plain that it was an honour for us to have such a dedicated man of God to minister to us. I didn’t see how I could go against that.’

  Thomas scowled. ‘Well I can, but we’ll do it fairly tomorrow. In the meantime, for everyone’s protection I want Cuthbert placed under an armed guard tonight. He isn’t under arrest, and is to be well treated. I just don’t want him attacking, or even threatening anyone else until tomorrow. Especially as he’s just across the lane from Ashlin and his family.’

  ‘He’s gone back into his hut now, and he’s very quiet.’ said Wulfstan in his ear.

  ‘Not throwing things around the place? Not cursing and swearing? Not threatening anyone?’

  ‘Nope. Quiet as a lamb.’

  Hengist called over one of the adults. The man’s eyebrows rose a little in surprise at what he was being asked to do, but he nodded and went away at a trot.

  ‘It will be done.’ said Hengist.

  ‘Excellent. And the horses? Let’s go and see them. Oh, and get someone to bring Cuthbert’s male slave to me as well. I’ve bought him too.’

  He and Hengist walked across the courtyard, going down the left side of the barn to the stables.

  Rowena, Berthilda and Sherelda walked over to the other side of the barn to where two women were chatting.

  Wulfstan rose high above it all and looked over the entire manor. It was set on a peninsula jutting north into a bend in the river. The road they had arrived by, wound up the middle of the peninsula, past a number of huts on both sides, and then into the courtyard, with the hall straight ahead, the barn behind it on the left, and the stables to its right. There was nothing beyond them but the river, a hundred yards north, a grazing meadow in between.

  Wulfstan followed the river west, moving upstream past the barn, the kitchen, the village water mill, and a sprinkling of huts, including Ashlin’s and the priest’s at the very end. Beyond that were strip fields, following the course of the river due west before it turned to the north, skirting the edge of a large wood.

  Just this side of the trees, two men were pulling in a wicker basket fish trap. Diving down for a closer look, Wulfstan could see it was a good catch. Someone would eat well tonight.

  Turning to look downstream he could see a blacksmith’s smithy on the eastern edge of the peninsula, then a quay in the deep water of a left hand bow in the river. Beyond that were more strip fields, and another wood.

  At the top of the peninsula, the river grew shallow as it swept around the village. He could see the five children splashing around as they sought out the lightest and darkest pebbles they could find without drowning themselves.

  Just down from them, four women were knee deep in the water, washing clothes, chatting and laughing.

  ‘The priest got a good talkin’ to didn’t he?’ laughed one.

  ‘Aye. Deserved it too, the miserable old bully.’ scowled a second.

  ‘Hush!’ whispered the third. ‘He might hear you. They say he has eyes and ears in every hut! And he has no mercy for anyone. He’ll send us to hell!’

  ‘Hah!’ shot back woman number one. ‘He’s just a priest, not God himself.’

  ‘He has God’s ear, and that’s just about as bad.’ whispered number three.

  ‘Maybe he has the devil’s ear! I don’t think he has anything much to say to God.’ said the fourth.

  Number three looked uncertain and frightened at this, but the other three’s laughter was unconstrained.

  ‘Well,’ said number two, dunking another shirt into the water ‘the Prince has his measure and no mistake. It’ll be fun tomorrow I’m thinkin’. I for one hope he gets sent packin’! He’s been nothing but misery since he got here. Not like Ceadda the old priest. He were a good un.’

  ‘Well he’s dead Maud! We can’t have him back.’ said number three, savagely wringing out a sock. ‘And we have to have someone to do the ceremonies, and pray for us. What’d happen to us with no priest?’

  ‘The Prince will get us another one Deirdre!’

  ‘But what about in between?!’ wailed Deirdre. ‘What about our souls in between? No last rites, straight to hell. No weekly prayers, straight to hell. No-‘

  ‘Oh give it a rest Deirdre! You think God cares more about the ceremonies than about the people they’re for. That can’t be right!’

  ‘Well that’s what Cuthbert says!’

  ‘And it isn’t what Ceadda said! Remember poor old Ethel, swept away in the last flood? No last rites for ‘er. No body to give ‘em to! Ceadda said she’d be safe in God’s house because she’d been a good woman, and God would never turn ‘er away for want of a few words from him.’

  ‘Well Cuthbert-‘

  Maud straightened up and put her hands on her hips. ‘I don’t want to hear another word about what Cuthbert says or thinks! He’s an evil minded bully, and as ungodly a man as ever walked the village streets! Understand?’ She cocked her head to one side, her expression fierce.

  ‘Yes Maud.’ said Deirdre meekly.

  They fell into an awkward silence, and the tinkling of the river filled the void.

  Between the washerwomen and the smithy, Wulfstan could see Sherelda getting a careful all over wash from Rowena and Berthilda. Each bruise was soaked gently in witch hazel, and she was loosening up, learning to trust these two slaves who were not slaves.

  Wulfstan thought of his father’s initial challenge.

  “And can you hold it boy? Against all comers?” he’d asked.

  Well? Could he?

  Even to Wulfstan’s young mind it seemed a very good target for raiders. With a palisade around the southern end of the peninsula it would have been easy to defend, but there wasn’t one. The woods to the east and west meant they might get precious little warning of an attack. Northumberland was ostensibly friendly, and a long way away, but still within raiding range. More to the point, Grimketil was only forty miles south east, close enough for his mounted band to make trouble if he wanted them to.


  With that thought in mind, he returned to Thomas, who by now was in the meadow north of the barn and stables.

  Hengist, Alfred and Thomas were checking each of the horses carefully, making sure they were all settled and safe in their field. Later on they’d be brought into the stables where they could be guarded overnight, but for now they could run free and eat their fill of grass.

  ‘Alfred.’ said Thomas.

  ‘Yes Your Highness?’ said Alfred.

  ‘As Hengist’s trusted number two, I would normally ask you to dine with me on my first night here, but this situation with Cuthbert changes things. Tomorrow will be intense, and it is vitally important that you of all people are seen by the village to still be your own man. If you dine with me tonight, they’ll think you’re following my orders.’

  Alfred looked at him reproachfully. ‘As you wish Your Highness.’

  Thomas shook his head. ‘No. You don’t understand Alfred. I am not snubbing you. I’m trying to protect you from what may happen tomorrow.’

  He smiled. ‘Look, I tell you what. Why do we not have a feast tomorrow night, with the whole village invited, and you at my table next to Hengist, so everyone can see you still stand tall?’

  Alfred nodded uncertainly.

  ‘Then it’s agreed. You and Hengist can make the arrangements, since you know what we can afford. Agreed? Good!’

  Bored, Wulfstan floated off towards the hall. It was as Hengist had said, a large building with a central fire place, but just the one room. There were benches and tables stacked around the edge, out of the way. At the farthest left hand corner, there actually was another small room, which wasn’t just Hengist’s private quarters, but contained his treasury, a strongbox with a stout lock into which were placed Wulfstan’s own bags of cash.

  Right at that moment, the hall was a hive of industry. Men were coming in and out with wood for the fire, the cooks were setting up their spits, women were cleaning and setting out the tables and benches, and two hefty men were setting up the beer barrels on each side of the room.

  ‘Are you really sure you want to do that? The Archbishop will be livid!’ Hengist asked as he and Thomas walked in.

  ‘Which is my problem, not yours.’ replied Thomas. ‘We’ll do it after breakfast. Send word to every household that the whole village will meet in the courtyard.’

  They were interrupted by the excited arrival of 5 small people wreathed in smiles. Oscar handed over a bag saying ‘These are all the light stones Prince Wulfstan!’

  Gundy pushed forward proudly with her own bag. ‘And these are the dark ones! We thought you might want to check we’ve done it right so we have time to fix it if we haven’t.’

  ‘That’s very clever of you.’ said Thomas.

  The children beamed.

  He poured out the stones onto one of the tables, in two piles. The colours were good, and there were the same number of each. ‘I need one light and one dark for every person over the age of six in the village, including our own party. Hengist, can you please check that we have enough?’

  Hengist counted them out. Or rather he didn’t. As he flicked each stone, he said a person’s name. At the end he nodded. ‘That’s right. With a few extras.’

  ‘Good.’ said Thomas. Then he pulled Hengist down so he could whisper into his ear. ‘But why did you not just count them?’

  Hengist looked surprised. ‘Because I cannot count Your Highness. Nor read or write. Those are jobs for priests, not men! None of the men in the village can read, write, or count. Except Cuthbert of course. He does the accounts, and reads them to me regularly.’

  ‘Ah yes.’ murmured Thomas. ‘Auditing the accounts, in action and in deed indeed.’ Then he turned back to the children.

  ‘Thank you my friends. Can I offer you a reward by inviting you all to dine with us this evening? You can bring your parents too of course.’

  ‘Yes please!’ came five excited voices all at once.

  ‘Then off you go, chop chop!’ The thunder of little feet seemed to echo off the walls for a long time after they had run squealing in delight to tell their parents.

  ‘I think you have some loyal subjects there.’ said Hengist.

  At dinner that night, Thomas sat at the centre of the table, with Hengist to his right, and Rowena and Berthilda to his left. On the other side of the table, their backs to the fire, sat the five children, mother Lynette to their right opposite Rowena and Berthilda, and father Sighard to their left across from Hengist.

  Sherelda sat on a bench tending the fire, quietly eating the best food she had ever had in her life. She glanced up at the Prince. Thomas looking between Oscar and Gundy, caught her eye, gave her a smile and raised his cup in salute. Shyly she smiled back, and nodding happily, waved a pigeon breast in reply.

  The one person who wasn’t there was Cuthbert’s male slave Alcott, of whom there was no sign whatsoever.

  For much of the meal it was Wulfstan doing the talking, through Thomas to the five siblings. Thomas couldn’t relax though. It’s hard work being a living ventriloquist’s dummy, with a fully working face and body.

  Hengist of course already knew Sighard the father, and they talked mostly of the doings of the manor.

  Rowena and Berthilda were finding it harder going with the mother. Lynette was struggling to find where the hierarchies lay. Was she socially superior as a free woman? Or were they subordinate to her because they were slaves? Or did a Prince’s slave outrank a free woman? Fearful of making a terrible mistake, she tended to say almost nothing at all.

  Finally, Thomas leaned over towards her. ‘Lynette?’

  ‘Yes Your Highness?’ she whispered.

  ‘Rowena and Berthilda are only slaves according to the law. In every way that matters they are free women, like yourself. And at year’s end they will be free in law as well. Treat them as equals. There are no status traps here. Just be yourself.’

  She looked at him uncertainly, then turned towards her husband for reassurance. Sighard nodded. So did Hengist.

  ‘I am sorry.’ she said to Rowena and Berthilda, ‘It is difficult to know how to behave.’

  Rowena laughed. ‘Everything is different with the Prince. As he says, just relax and be yourself. Here, have some of this excellent mutton.’ and handed Lynette a choice chunk of rump.

  After that, things were much easier all around.

  Still acting mainly as Wulfstan’s mouthpiece, Thomas had time enough to watch and learn. Oswin and Sigeberht were charismatic, outgoing boys, full of tales of fishing, hunting small game, and of course games.

  Oscar, though smiling in all the right places, was mentally somewhere else. He was playing with the crumbs from his trencher, putting them into piles. At first Thomas thought he was just pushing them about, but suddenly he realised the boy was playing a numbers game. There was a pile of three crumbs, then another pile of three, followed by a pile of six, followed in turn by three piles of two each.

  ‘Do you like numbers Oscar?’ he asked.

  Startled, Oscar looked up guiltily, and shot a glance at Gundy. Thomas noted for the first time that she was following along. She blushed.

  ‘Nothing to be embarrassed about.’ said Thomas. ‘Tell me what you’re doing.’

  Sigeberht sighed, looked skywards like any big brother would, but he was smiling.

  Oscar grinned sheepishly, and then started to explain. He pointed to the two piles of three. ‘If I take these piles, and put them together, then they become the same size as this larger pile.’ He pointed to the pile of six.

  ‘And?’

  Gundy leant across Sigeberht and pointed to the three piles of two. ‘And if you push these piles into one big pile, that makes the same sized pile too!’ She looked at Thomas, her face deadly serious.

  Thomas nodded. ‘Which means?’

  Oscar butted back in ‘It means that these piles on the left, the pile in the middle, and the piles on the right are all the same, even though they’re different!’

&nb
sp; ‘Excellent! said Thomas. ‘Now, do you know what numbers they represent?’

  Gundy’s face fell. ‘No. The priest says numbers aren’t for little girls.’ Her bottom lip trembled with indignation. ‘But he wouldn’t tell Oscar either!! He said only priests should know, and threatened to hit him if he asked again!’

  Thomas laughed. ‘Not true! I shall teach you myself.’

  ‘Really?!’ cried Gundy and Oscar in unison.

  ‘Certainly. Let’s do a little bit right now. See here.’ and he took a pile of breadcrumbs himself.

  ‘We start with nothing.’ he pointed to an empty space on the table. ‘And we call that zero.’

  Oscar frowned. ‘Why do you care about nothing?’

  ‘If you sit down to dinner and have one loaf of bread put in front of you, but I take it away. What do you have?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘And surely you want to know if you have something to eat or not, yes? See? You do care about nothing!’

  Gundy nodded uncertainly.

  Thomas put a single bread crumb to the right of the nothing space, and added nine more piles in order. ‘Then we have one, followed by two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine and ten.’

  They nodded, faces keen with concentration. Even Sigeberht was paying attention now, and for the first time Grimhild was in on it too.

  ‘So, looking at your piles Oscar, how many crumbs are in each of these piles?’ he asked, pointing to Oscar’s left.

  ‘Three.’ said Oscar slowly.

  ‘And how many piles of three do you have?’

  ‘Two!’ shouted Gundy.

  Thomas laughed again. ‘So two piles of three make how much?’ he asked, pointing to the middle pile.

  Oscar looked at him carefully, then at the ten different piles. ‘Six?’

  ‘That’s right. Well done.’

  Oscar beamed.

  ‘Now, how many piles do you have here?’ he said, pointing to the piles between Oscar and Gundy.

  ‘Three!’ said Gundy excitedly.

  ‘And how many crumbs in each pile?

  ‘Two!’ they cried simultaneously.