by K T Findlay
‘So three piles of two, also equal six. True?’
They nodded eagerly.
Thomas paused, until he had their full attention. ‘So, if two piles of three equals six, and three piles of two also equal six . . .’ he paused again to make sure they were fully engaged. ‘That means that two times three equals three times two. True?’
Oscar frowned. ‘But we already knew that!’
‘You knew all three were the same, now you know what to call them. And you are also beginning to learn how numbers can be moved around, to let you do things in different ways.’
Sigeberht grimaced, ‘But what use is that?’
‘Well we’re just playing with very small numbers now. How did you know you had the right number of stones today?’
‘We listed all the people, just like Hengist did.’ said Sigeberht.
‘So you needed to know every single person in the village, plus us new comers before you could do that. Right? Now what would have happened if I had asked Berthilda here to collect the right number of stones?’
‘She’d have to ask someone for help.’
‘Right. But I now know that there are one hundred and eighty three people in the village. So if I tell Berthilda to collect one hundred and eighty three dark stones, and she knows how to count, then she can just go and do it. She doesn’t need to know every single person. She just needs the number, and to know how to get there.’
‘So numbers let you do things?’ asked Gundy.
‘Oh yes!’ smiled Thomas. ‘Let me show you what you can do with a bit of string and a few knots!’
Which took care of the next half hour.
Later on, after everyone else had gone to their own homes, and the women were making ready for bed, Hengist managed to get Thomas on his own. ‘May I ask you something Your Highness?’
‘Of course Hengist. Anything you like.’
‘Who taught you your numbers? I don’t remember anyone at court teaching you numbers.’
Thomas looked into Hengist’s face. For once it was hard to read. He thought quickly. ‘Nobody taught me Hengist. I listened to the clerics doing the palace accounts, and learned the basics from that. And I watched the builders and the stone masons at their work. But that bang on the head you gave me seems to have given me a lot more understanding for some reason. Perhaps a divine gift?’
Hengist returned his gaze, his own face still revealing nothing of his thoughts. ‘Quite a gift.’ he said simply.
There being just the one room, the bedding was arranged around the fire. One room for everyone, and one room for every function. There was virtually no privacy, not even for the most personal activities, but nobody much bothered about it. It was normal.
The word normal really just means, “That which me and mine do, most of the time.” Nobody in the hall except for Thomas had ever had any privacy, and you don’t miss what you’ve never had. Thomas just had to keep telling himself that!
Soon the hall was dark, with only the cacophony of sleeping humans to disturb the mice as they frolicked happily in the straw.
8 A Matter of choice
The following morning saw the entire village assemble at the riverside, just upstream of the laundry.
Thomas oversaw the erection of two curving, parallel lines of brushwood fencing across the very top of the peninsula. The idea was that people would enter from the downstream end, do their voting in the middle where they couldn’t be observed, and then leave by the upstream end.
The villagers were all assembled on its landward side, but to their puzzlement, the Prince had arranged them into groups. Facing the river, at the far left were the adult men. To their right were the adult women, then all the children, followed by the slaves at the extreme right.
Wulfstan had zipped around the perimeter of the manor, over two miles out from where the voting was being held because Thomas had asked him to check that there were no bandits or other miscreants lurking, ready to make mischief. There weren’t, so Thomas brought all the guards into the voting area so they too could have their say.
Thomas stood facing the villagers, Cuthbert and Hengist to his left. He raised his arms in welcome. ‘Good people, thank you for coming. This morning,’ he paused to glance sideways at a defiant Cuthbert, ‘you will decide whether you want to keep your priest, or you will tell me that you want a new one.’
Cuthbert scowled at him, but said nothing.
‘I arrived only yesterday, as you know. The very first thing I saw was Cuthbert beating a starving man. Less than half an hour later he was trying to kill a woman in my own hall, and in between I met a child that he’d beaten on the face for a trivial mistake during prayers.’
He paused again.
‘I find these behaviours at odds with what I expect from a priest, but, I’ve been here less than a day, while you’ve had the pleasure of his company for a full two months. So I will be guided by your collective wisdom regarding what should be done. Today you will vote.’ and so saying, he waved for two barrels to be brought in and placed between himself and the villagers.
‘Each of these barrels is empty, and sealed, except for a single small hole in the top. Cuthbert, would you please examine the barrels and confirm to your satisfaction that they are just as I described?’
A highly suspicious Cuthbert examined each one carefully. He tried to open the tops and the bottoms. He checked for loose staves. Eventually he nodded his agreement.
‘Thank you Cuthbert. The first barrel will be placed in the middle of the brushwood lane behind me. There is a cutout at the bottom of the brushwood so you can see that it is not interfered with in any way. The other barrel will be put close to the upstream end of the path. Each of you will be given a light coloured pebble, and a dark coloured pebble. One at a time you will walk through the path until you get to the barrel in the middle. If you want him to stay, you drop in the light pebble. If you think he should leave, you drop in the dark pebble. The remaining pebble, you drop into the barrel at the upstream end. When everyone has dropped their stones, the brushwood will be pulled aside, and the stones in the middle barrel counted. If there are more light than dark, he stays. If there are more dark than light, he goes.’
He paused once more. ‘Any questions?’
He took his time, and looked carefully around the crowd, catching an eye here and there, but nobody said a word.
‘Well, I’ve said that I didn’t like what I saw, but it’s only fair that Cuthbert be given the chance to say how he sees things. Cuthbert?’
Chin held high, Cuthbert glared out at those who would now judge him. ‘I was specially chosen to be your priest, by the Archbishop of Canterbury himself. If you cast me out, you will be going directly against his wishes, and he will be very angry!’
There were ripples and murmurs in the crowd at this. Scenting blood, Cuthbert continued, his voice becoming more strident. ‘He sent me to bring some discipline amongst you, and to beat it into you if necessary! I was dismayed to find you needed it so badly. If I have been harsh and beaten some of you, it has been only for your own good. That is what I have been sent here to do! If you throw me out, the devil himself will take hold of this village, without me to see him off!’
The murmurs now broke out into hushed, but intense chatter as people debated what had been said. Cuthbert’s words had clearly struck fear into some of them at least. He allowed himself a smile of triumph.
Thomas held up his hand for silence. ‘Thank you Cuthbert. You raise three good points. Let me address them in turn.’ He raised his right hand, first finger extended and brought it down onto his left palm.
‘Discipline means control over one’s self. You cannot teach a person, or even an animal discipline if you lack it yourself. You are the most undisciplined man I have met outside an outlaw band! You lose your temper at the drop of a hat, and then you lash out at whoever is near you, using the word discipline to cover your own wickedness. All you’ve actually instilled to date is fear.’
Cuthbert was actually quivering with fury. His face bright red in indignation, his pupils mere slits.
‘Secondly,’ continued Thomas, not taking his gaze off him for a second, ‘Given the behaviour I have seen in less than a day, you don’t so much keep the devil out, as invite him in and give him bed and board! So I very much doubt the village is at risk in that regard, if we dispense with your services.’
Cuthbert had gone past red now, and was chalk white.
‘Thirdly, the Archbishop may indeed allocate a priest to a parish, but the parish can decide if it wants to keep him. And if the Archbishop disagrees, then he can debate it with me directly, not the villagers. Do you have anything else to say?’
Speaking through clenched teeth, Cuthbert managed to get out ‘You have no right to do any of this! The slave is mine and I can do what I want to a slave, even kill her if I want to! I did not choose to sell her to you, you took her! The tithe is a Church right, not yours, and you have no right to usurp that either! And Church prayers are my domain, not yours. You are trespassing on the Church’s rights, on God’s rights, and your soul will be damned for it!’
Thomas put a gentle smile on his face. It was a good attempt, but it didn’t fool anyone. ‘Slaves are a temporal matter, not ecclesiastic. The King has given me the right to buy any slave I want from anyone, as part of my challenge. I chose yours and you have been paid three times her worth. I am within my rights. Sherelda is mine now.' He glanced across to her, where she was standing proudly between Rowena and Berthilda. For the first time she didn’t look fearful. She even looked determined. Thomas continued.
‘The tithe is indeed the Church’s right, and who said you would be deprived of it? I just said Ashlin didn’t have to pay it. The manor will pay his tithe on this occasion. The Church will lose nothing.’
‘Lastly, prayers may indeed be your domain, but when you strike my people, that is my affair, and I take exception to it.’
He paused once more for effect, cocking his head to the right. ‘So, I think we can say that none of your rights have been infringed to date. In fact you’ve actually made money on the deal!’
He shook his head in mock amusement. ‘Anything else you’d like to say?’
Cuthbert scowled and shook his head. ‘Do your worst!’
The chatter of the crowd broke out once more. Thomas immediately put up his hand and commanded silence.
‘There will be no talking at all, between now and when all the stones have been cast. I will have complete silence until then. Do you understand?’
The crowd was a kaleidoscope of emotion. There was a lot of nodding going on, a few smiles and grins, a smattering of anxiety, and a cluster of deep frowns, but silence was maintained.
‘Good. Thank you. We will vote in order. The slaves will each vote, one at a time. They can make their own call, and nobody will direct their slave as to how to vote, nor will they afterwards demand that their slave tell them how they cast their vote.’
He fixed the crowd with gimlet eyes. ‘I am deadly serious about this. If I find any person coercing their slave on this matter, I will throw them out of the village. Do not try me!’
‘Next will be the children, everyone between six and ten years of age, followed by the women, and lastly the men. Understand?’
Alfred raised his hand.
‘Yes Alfred?’
‘Your Highness, are we to understand that in this process a slave’s vote caries the same weight as a child’s, which is the same as a woman’s, which is the same as a free man’s? This is not our way. Surely only the free men should vote on such a serious matter as this?’
The silence was maintained, but there were many vigorous nods amongst the men.
Thomas bowed slightly. ‘Another excellent question, as I am learning to expect from you Alfred. I understand what you’re saying, but on this matter, everyone has a stake. The priest’s power allows him to isolate the most vulnerable members of our community, be they man, woman or child, free or slave. Abuses can be easily hidden away, and covered up in such a situation. You free men are less exposed to the bullying, so you don’t experience what it is like yourselves. Indeed, you probably have no idea what your women, children and slaves have been exposed to. How could they tell you?’
He stood erect and still. Alfred looked at him calmly, for what seemed an age. Then he nodded his assent. ‘I see your point Your Highness.’
Many of the men took their lead from Alfred, but some were still shaking their heads, their faces unhappy.
Thomas relaxed. ‘Good. Then let us begin. Slaves first!’
An old man stepped forward out of the slave group, accepted his light and dark stone from the guard, and stepped into the path. Everyone could see his lower legs when he got to the voting barrel. There was a short pause, then a loud echoing thunk, as the pebble hit the wooden bottom of the empty barrel. They watched his legs depart to the other end, where they heard another echoey thunk before he appeared out the other end. The guard there pointed him to an area well away from those who still had to vote.
Sherelda was next, stepping deliberately out from between Rowena and Berthilda. She didn’t even bother to look at Cuthbert. She just walked quickly through, dropping her stones without even stopping at the barrels. Rowena and Berthilda followed just as swiftly, leaving her alone for as little time as possible.
It took just under two hours to get the one hundred and eighty odd people through the voting process. When it was over, they all walked back to the starting point, but this time as a village, in family groups and not in the voting blocks.
The brushwood was carefully taken away and the voting barrel brought out. The top was prised free, the wax seal being checked first to see it had not been tampered with. Then the stones were emptied onto a cloth covered table.
‘Gundy and Oscar? Can you come here please?’
Brother and sister ran out from the crowd.
Thomas commanded ‘Please sort the pebbles out into one pile of light and one pile of dark. Make sure you keep all the stones visible to everyone, and keep your hands above the table at all times so people can see them until the two piles are ready.’
Cuthbert looked on keenly. Although dismayed, because right from the start the pile of white was visibly smaller than the pile of dark, he had an ace up his sleeve.
‘When they are finished Your Highness, I will count them for you, so you know the numbers.’ he smiled warmly.
‘No need Cuthbert.’ grinned Thomas. ‘I can count them myself.’
Cuthbert blinked. ‘Your Highness?’
A huge laugh erupted from Thomas. ‘You’re not the only one here who can count Cuthbert! I have a far better knowledge of mathematics than you do.’
Thomas proceeded to demonstrate that mastery as soon as the children had finished. He created little piles of ten, keeping them visible to the crowd throughout, then added them up quickly to get the totals.
‘Well Cuthbert, I make it one hundred and fifty two dark, and thirty one light. Time to go I think. Unless you think I have added them up incorrectly.’
Cuthbert was thunderstruck, the shock visible on his face.
‘We’ll look after you properly Cuthbert.” said Thomas. You’ll have a hand cart to carry your things. We’ll give you some cash to safely cover your journey to wherever you want to go from here. And we’ll give you plenty of food to take with you.’
Cuthbert shook his head. ‘I’ll need a slave, or at least an animal to carry my goods.’
‘No Cuthbert.’ said Thomas sadly. ‘I’ve seen how you treat those in your power. You shall have no slave, and you shall have no animals either. I imagine you would be even crueller with animals than you are with people, so I cannot agree to that. That’s why you’ll get a good hand cart.’
Cuthbert began to expostulate, but Thomas held up his hand. ‘I’m not going to debate this point Cuthbert. You get a handcart, and you will push it yourself. Hengist? Take Alfred and two others, to help Cuthbert to pac
k his belongings, then see him on his way please.’
Hengist gently took Cuthbert by the shoulder, the crowd parted, and the priest was led away. Only once he was out of sight did the hubbub of conversation break out, and this time Thomas let it run.
Wulfstan floated to and fro amongst them, listening to the chatter.
The children were running around in delight, laughing and chanting.
The priest did hit, the priest did smite.
The priest did spit and said t’was right.
The Prince said no, let there be light.
Now Cuthbert’s gone, clear out of sight!
Again and again the verse sang out until one of the adults waved them gently away to play down by the river.
‘Who came up with that Wulfstan?’ asked Thomas.
‘Grimhild. She’s really good at verse.’
‘Very impressive. In fact the whole family is impressive, each in their own way.’
Thomas glanced around. His eyes fell on the one group that didn’t look at all happy, a small knot of 8 young men. They stood close together, faces frowning, brows furrowed, heads shaking and nodding alternately. He walked over to them.
‘Gentlemen, you seem to be vexed about something. Please, feel free to say what you feel.’
One looked at him suspiciously. ‘I am Fulton, and with respect Your Highness, we do not wish to say anything that might upset you. We have seen what can happen to those who do.’ The man dropped his eyes to the ground.
‘Oh come now Fulton. Alfred has asked me some very hard questions, both yesterday and today. But they were good questions, asking about important things that needed to be discussed openly. I now trust, admire, and respect Alfred as a man who will always tell me the truth, or challenge me when he thinks I may be wrong.’
‘It’s true that I don’t think much of Cuthbert, but I let the village make that decision, not me. And I let each person do it secretly so they could safely do what they felt was right, without fear.’
Still looking at the ground Fulton mumbled ‘That’s why we are unhappy. It shouldn’t have been everyone. It should just have been the free men making the decision.’