by Griff Hosker
“Thank you. I am grateful.”
The look on his face told me that he was unused to civility from his betters. He was right it was a fine wine and I had two goblets before the King returned and greeted me. He shouted his servant over, “Wine for the King too!” He took the other chair, “You are lucky with your son and your knights. I sent the knights of Anjou away. They were just a waste of grazing and food! I shall be sorry to see them go but I gave my word.”
“Aye, and I will be able to join them for I am healed.”
He said nothing. The wine arrived and he sipped it appreciatively. “I would like you to return to London with me. I still need you, for a time at least.” I held my tongue and waited for his explanation. “Becket is coming back to England. The Pope has intervened and promised me that Becket will not be so confrontational. He will arrive in Canterbury in December. Stay with me until then. I may need your sage advice.” He swallowed the goblet of wine in one and refilled it himself. “Come old friend, can you not give me a couple of months?”
There was little point in telling him that I had wanted Christmas with my family. That would not be a reason good enough for the King. “You wish me to stay and calm the waters with Becket and that is all?”
“He respects you and I just need you there until I can be certain that he has changed his ways.”
As I had expected my son and grandson were unhappy especially as they had managed to acquire ships and would be sailing the next day. It would be ten days before we left. The King wished to ensure that Geoffrey was surrounded by reliable advisers.
“William, it is a couple of months. When Becket reaches England, I will visit and speak with him. I believe I am a good judge of men and I will be able to discover the truth and divine his intentions.”
He nodded. “Then that will give me the time to add apartments to my hall. I wish you housed comfortably as I intend you to spend the rest of your life there with us. You need not risk your life again. In future I will go in your stead if the King needs you.”
I rose early to wave them down the river and I felt very lonely. There was just Simon and myself. The two of us were the only ones at the quayside. We turned and walked back to the castle as the sun rose. Simon had grown in the campaign. It was both physically and mentally. He had become a man. It was the battle of Nantes which had done that. As we headed back he said, “Lord I will become your right hand. While you were recovering I practised with Arne and Harry.” He shook his head and laughed, “Even wounded and much older than I they managed to trounce me every time but I learned.”
It was my turn to smile, “Much as I did with Wulfstan and my father’s hearth-weru. Believe me Simon, it will make you a better warrior.”
“I have used the coin I won at the battle to have a local smith make me a hauberk. I do not think I will grow much. When we returned to Stockton I will have one of Alf’s sons make me a sword. You need not go to war for I will fight in your stead.”
“I do not think it will come to war but I am grateful for your oath.”
We travelled with the King and we travelled well. I had my own quarters on the ship which Simon shared. We did not have much room but we had privacy. Autumn winds made our journey home slower and we did not reach London until the middle of October. We noticed the cold and the wet but it mattered little for we were home. We were in England.
We went directly to the Tower but discovered that Young King Henry was not there. He had gone to Windsor with William Marshal to hunt. Henry was unhappy for he had warned his son that he was coming home. He smacked the table, when we were alone, “He insults me! He hunts when he should be here so that I can discover what has happened in my realm during my absence.”
I said nothing for the King was over fond of hunting. Richard, and his new knights, were in London and when they heard that the King had returned they came to join us. Henry’s ire was slightly assuaged. “What has your brother been doing while I have made Brittany secure?”
Richard said, lightly, “He has hunted a great deal. I fear there will be no animals left in the great park at Windsor.”
“And what of you? Have you hunted too?”
“I am not King of England, am I? My land is in Aquitaine. I stayed for I did not wish to offend you. Now that you have returned then my men and I can go to warmer climes.”
“No, I would have you here. Becket returns.”
That elicited the same response from all five of them. Richard le Breton spoke for them all. “That viper has the nerve to return here! After what he has done!”
“Peace, hothead! He returns at my request. We cannot have the office of Archbishop of Canterbury empty. The Pope assures me that Becket will be contrite. The Earl Marshal is here to ensure that it is so.”
Prince Richard said, “Then we will stay in England until he has shown that he can behave but if I were King then he would have his head taken from his shoulders.”
“And you are not King nor even the next in line! You need to think like a king and not like a warrior.”
Richard was not put out. He smiled, “But I am a warrior. If I were king I would rule as a warrior. I will die as a warrior. What else is there in life?”
He and his knights left us and the King looked exasperated. “What can I do? Perhaps I should have made John the King.”
“At least there will be no problem with the succession.”
“Always looking on the bright side.” I smiled. “And now we wait for Becket. When he comes I would have you go and speak with him. I have asked Roger de Pont L'Évêque, the archbishop of York, along with Gilbert Foliot, the Bishop of London, and Josceline de Bohon, the Bishop of Salisbury to come to London. As they were the ones who crowned my son, they have an interest in Becket!”
Simon and I settled into life at the Tower. It was never a cosy place but without the Queen and filled with the knights of the sons of King Henry it was even bleaker. Simon and I took to wandering the streets of London. I needed my strength building up and walking, rather than riding, seemed to be the best way to do so. I found it a dirty almost shabby place compared with York but then I had been brought up in Constantinopolis and that was a truly beautiful city. What saddened me most, as we walked the streets, were the number of crippled soldiers we saw. None had fought for me else I would have given them coin to go to my valley. There were many Normans and French. When a lord lost a battle, he might be ransomed. A man at arms, a light horseman or an archer had no such option. They could be killed, maimed or simply left to fend for themselves. The ones who were still hale took to banditry. The ones I saw had been hurt in some way and did not have that luxury. I thought that the church might do something for them but they did not. It was sad.
We found an inn by the old palace of Westminster; ‘The Lamb’. It was convenient for we could eat there and rest before we headed back to the Tower. The landlord came to know us. Few lords used inns. I liked them for there you met men you actually wished to speak with and you learned a great deal. I did not wear my surcoat, just a dark blue cloak and I was not recognised. Simon just called me, my lord and others followed that convention. We used the table in the corner. It was both private and yet we could see all who entered. The landlord, if it was not a busy time would chat to us. I know he did so to make coin from us but I found that more honest than many lords who had feigned friendship and then tried to stab me in the back.
Four men came in one day not long after we had arrived. They did not look like the normal customers. For a start they were either men at arms or knights. They had cloaks pulled tightly around them so that their livery was hidden from view. I saw their swords; they were good ones. Secondly, they had the swarthy look of foreigners. That was confirmed when they ordered wine. I could not hear them, they were too far away but they had their heads close together and looked like conspirators.
When John, the landlord came over with our next beakers of ale I asked, “Those four look out of place here. What is their story?”
&nbs
p; “I cannot turn away trade lord but they are Frenchmen! What can I do? The law says I have to serve all customers unless they break a law. My son died fighting the French for King Henry. It sticks in my throat that I have to serve them.”
“What are four Frenchmen doing here in London and looking so secretive?”
“I am sorry, lord, but Nipper can barely speak English let alone French.” Nipper was the man who served ale. John had told me that he had received a wound at the Battle of Winchester and was a little simple. He could fetch and carry ale.
Just then three merchants entered and John hurried to serve them. Merchants spent well. I turned to Simon. “Go outside and make water. See if they have horses or servants.”
The four men ordered food. They would be here for a while. When Simon returned he said, “They have horses and they have a servant. I tried to speak to him but he was a surly fellow. I was tempted to strike him with the flat of my sword.”
“Finish your ale and we will head back. I will ask John here if he can find more information for us!” I had already finished my beer and while Simon emptied his beaker I stood and slid four silver coins across the bar. “If you can find out where they lodge then there will be a golden dinar for you.”
“I will try, lord, but I cannot promise.”
“I know. I am just interested in why four Frenchmen are here so close to the old palace of Westminster and the Abbey.”
I pulled my hood up over my head as we left. If they were French warriors then I might have fought them. They would be more likely to recognise me than the other way around. I walked deliberately slowly as I passed them. I kept my eyes to the ground. I picked up a few words. One was hunting and a second was Henry. I spied that one of them had spurs. There was one knight amongst them. When we passed the surly servant, he glowered at Simon. That too made me suspicious. We had to walk within a few paces of the horses. I saw that they were good palfreys. They were the sort of horse a man at arms used to ride to war. I was even more intrigued now.
“What do you make of it, lord?”
“They could be innocent but my nose tells me that they are not. They were hiding too much for that. They could be assassins. Both King Henry and his son like hunting. When I was a Knight of the Empress in Normandy Frenchmen tried to assassinate the first King Henry while he was hunting.”
“Will you tell the King?”
“I will wait until we know a little more. It is possible that they are innocent of any crime and have no intention of causing anyone harm.”
Simon smiled, “Yet you do not believe that, lord.”
“No Simon, I do not.”
When we returned to the inn, the next day, there was no sign of the four men and their surly servant. John brought us our food. “Well, John, did you discover anything?”
He smiled, “I think that they were passing through, lord. They bought food from the baker and the cheesemonger. They headed west.”
I gave him the gold coin. “Thank you, John.”
“But I did nothing. Heading west tells you nothing.”
I did not reply but I smiled. He shook his head, put the coin in his purse and went to serve others who had just entered. “I do not understand, lord, what did the man tell you that made you smile?”
“I know a little more now. We heard hunting and Henry. It is young Henry who hunts to the west of here at Windsor. Tomorrow we will take horses and we will ride to Windsor. I think I would like to speak with Young Henry.”
Events conspired against us. Reaching the Tower, we were informed that the King wished to see me. “Becket is back! I would have you go and speak with him. Find out if he is repentant! I will give you an escort of men at arms.”
“Aye lord.” We would have a two-day ride in December. My heart sank to my boots.
Chapter 9
The six men assigned to guard us were all known to me. I had fought alongside them in Scotland and in Normandy. The horses the King gave us were sound beasts. We stayed at Rochester castle. It was a royal residence and the constable knew me well. We ate well and had good beds. The next morning, we rode through a storm of sleet, snow and rain. I had a good cloak but by the time we reached Canterbury I was soaked to the skin. My chest hurt for this was the first time I had ridden since I had been wounded. The cold and wet aggravated the wound. I was not in a good humour as I approached the Archbishop’s palace. My mood was not improved by the wait we had to endure. Luckily the cleric who opened the door recognised me from a previous visit when I had tried to persuade the Archbishop to allow the King’s brother to marry the lady he loved. I had failed then. Would I fail now?
The cleric’s face showed that he remembered me. It had not been a pleasant parting, “Good evening Earl Marshal; what brings you here on such a foul night.”
“I am here on the King’s business. Admit me.” My chest suddenly sent paroxysms of pain through my body. Simon said, “The Earl has not been well. I will draw my sword and force entry if needs be!”
“Pray enter.” He looked at the knights with me. “There are stables for your horses and your men.” He was pointedly directing them away from the Archbishop’s chambers.
I turned, “All will be well. This is just for one night.”
Simon put his arm around my back, “This was too much, lord! The King puts upon you. You are not completely healed!”
We were taken to an ante chamber and the cleric hurried off. Simon took off my wet cloak. It was fortunate that I wore no mail for I fear I might have perished whilst on the road.
An old priest arrived with a young one in attendance. “I am Cedric. I understand you are ill, Earl Marshal.”
I was finding it hard to breathe and Simon said, “My lord suffered a broken breast bone when serving the King. He has but recently healed.”
The healer nodded. “James go and have a bed made up in the hospital.”
I shook my head, “I must speak with the Archbishop. I have ridden two days to get here.”
“You are ill, Earl Marshal. The Archbishop will come to the hospital. He is in the cathedral and will not be ready to see you for some time.” I nodded. “Squire, you are a strong warrior. Help me carry the Earl Marshal.”
Fortunately, the hospital was just two corridors away and had a fire burning. While Cedric prepared his potions and drugs Simon and the other priest helped to undress me from my wet clothes and I was given a simple white garment to wear.
“First I will examine you and then I will place a poultice on the chest. Finally, we will make it easier for you to breathe.”
I croaked, “No drugs! I must be awake!”
“Aye, lord. There will be no drugs.”
The examination was painless. The poultice was warm and soothing. Within moments my chest felt less painful. “Squire, bring your master to the table.” Once seated at the table a fur was fetched and draped around my shoulders. A bowl filled with a fragrant and steaming liquid was placed before me and steam rose.
“Put your head over it and breathe.” As I did so a cloth was placed over my head enclosing me. I smelled camphor, rosemary and thyme. There were other smells I could not identify. As soon as I inhaled the steam it felt as though a weight had been taken from my chest. I heard voices as the healer spoke with Simon but it was as though I was in a different world. I know not how long I sat there but the bowl cooled and Cedric lifted the cloth. “Good. Now food. I will have some broth sent to you.”
I felt that I could now talk. “Thank you, Brother Cedric, but I must speak with the Archbishop.”
“He will come, lord, as soon as the service is ended.”
Simon poured a mug of ale for each of us and went to the fire to fetch the poker. He plunged it into my ale where is hissed. He put the poker back in the fire. “Drink, lord. Brother Cedric said that it would help the healing. He says that you must stay here for two days, at the very least.”
“I thought I was healed.”
“You might have been but the ride and the inclement w
eather has done something within you to the wound. This is a different ailment but it is caused by the wound.” As he plunged the poker into his own ale he shrugged, “I am sorry, lord. I did not understand all that he said. But I did understand the fear in his face. If you try to travel back tomorrow then you will die.”
I nodded. I still felt weak. “Then whatever news we have must be taken back by you and the men at arms.”
“I cannot leave you alone.”
“I am in a house of God. What should I fear?”
The broth was well made and served with fresh baked bread. I felt better. It was much later when Cedric returned with the Archbishop. I saw that he was wearing a hair shirt. That was a sure sign of penance. He had aged during his time in France.
“Earl Marshal, it grieves me to see you in this condition. This is not the time of year for a man of your age to travel especially not one with such a wound as you bear.” He shook his head, “That King Henry would allow a man of your age to fight in battle astounds and amazes me.”
“I come on the King’s business. It was important to him.” My eyes bored into the Archbishop’s and he looked away first.
“Leave us. I would speak alone with the Earl Marshal.”
Simon stood, “I will check on the horses and the men at arms and I will return forthwith.”
When he had gone, Thomas Becket smiled and shook his head, “You still inspire great loyalty amongst your men.”
“The loyalty is mutual much as the loyalty between a subject and his king.”
“Yet I am not the subject of the King. I serve God.”
“You are the King’s Archbishop and he appointed you. Does that not deserve loyalty?”
“Not blind loyalty. I am the church’s ultimate authority in this land. I decide and arbitrate on all religious matters. When I was tutor, briefly, to young Henry, I saw in him a future king who would understand the division between church and state.”