by H A CULLEY
Although the Church took no direct action against William, they started a whispering campaign against him and his standing in the country was damaged still further. In time he became detested and rumours of plots against his rule grew.
-X-
Etgair had been less than pleased to find his elder brother had escaped his vengeance, but there was little he could do about it. After the knighting ceremony in the great hall of the castle Etgair announced that he planned to base his administration in Edinburgh. The castle was virtually impregnable and Dunfermline was isolated from the rest of his kingdom in the middle of Fife, which was virtually a peninsular.
He reversed Donald Bane’s policy and persuaded several knights in Edgar’s army to stay and serve him by offering them land. One of these was the newly knighted Edwin. He was sorry to leave his uncle’s service but Hugo could only offer him a future as a landless knight in his mesnie. Etgair gave him the lairdship of Duns in Lothian.
Hugo was sad to see him go. Of all of Rowena’s family now only Wulfric and Leofric remained in his service. It therefore came as a body blow when Herbert’s letter finally caught up with him as he headed back towards Norham with Tristan. At first he couldn’t believe that Wulfric and Edith would betray him in this way. His initial reaction, after disbelief, was grief but this soon turned to anger and then bitter hatred.
Tristan could see that something was badly wrong but his father refused to speak to him about it. Instead he announced as they were breaking camp the next morning that he needed to return to Derbyshire immediately. Leaving a puzzled and worried Tristan to carry on back to Harbottle, Hugo left with Simon and the few knights left in his mesnie, their squires and ten mounted serjeants to hasten back to Edale.
Tristan watched him go. He knew that something was badly wrong but he had no idea what it was until he found the crumpled parchment where his father had thrown it. He was not a good reader – most Norman nobility regarded reading and writing as a job for their inferiors – but he could understand enough of what Herbert had written to get the gist of the matter. He too was dumbstruck at the thought of Wulfric and Edith getting married. He liked his uncle and he knew that his father would regret it if he acted in the heat of the moment. He knew him enough to guess that murder lay in his heart at that moment.
‘Ralph, ride as fast as you can to Edale with this message for Sir Wulfric. It is imperative that you get there before my father. Do you understand?’
The young knight nodded and sped off. Ralph was acknowledged as the best rider in his mesnie and, accompanied by his squire and two replacement horses, he should be able to overtake Hugo and his escort long before they reached Edale.
They did, but only by a day. He had trouble convincing Wulfric that Hugo was coming to kill him and Edith but eventually they grasped the peril they were in and started to pack.
‘But, where will we go. What will you do? I’m pregnant so you can’t become a household knight again. I need a proper home and so does our baby.’
Ralph coughed politely to interrupt her wailing and Wulfric’s growing anger. He had a feeling that they would start to blame one another any moment and that would achieve nothing.
‘King Etgair is looking for knights to settle in Scotland. Edwin has been given a lairdship – the same thing as a manor really – in Lothian. Perhaps you’d be wisest to head for Edinburgh?’
Wulfric clasped Ralph’s shoulder. ‘Thank you, my boy. That’s the solution.’
‘It might be best to ask for one well away from the border.’ Ralph grinned at him. ‘You will need to avoid the road north unless you want to run into Sir Hugo. I suggest you head for Nottingham and head north from there.’
‘What about you? It would probably be best if you weren’t around when Hugo arrives back. Not only would he be furious with you for warning us, but it would be best if he didn’t know that Sir Tristan sent you.’
‘Yes, you’re quite right. In that case, we might as well come with you. Thankfully no-one here knows me so Hugo won’t know where you’ve gone or why.’
That night, when it was quiet, the four of them left leading their horses until they were clear of the village. They had to travel slowly because of Edith’s condition, although it was early days yet, and they reached Northumberland a month later. Ralph left them at Alnwick to return to Tristan at Harbottle whilst Wulfric and Edith continued on to Edinburgh.
Luckily Etgair was still looking for knights to help him pacify his kingdom. He had only just managed to subdue Galloway and he gave Wulfric a lairdship in upper Annandale, part of a barony he had awarded to a Norman knight called Adam de Brus.
-X-
Hugo’s depression returned with a vengeance when his discovered that Wulfric and Edith had fled. The bailiff at Edale knew that a young knight and his squire had arrived just before they had gone, but he didn’t know who he was.
‘Even if you didn’t recognise him, you must have seen the device on his shield,’ Hugo almost yelled at the unfortunate man in his frustration.
‘No, Sir Hugo. It was covered in hessian.’
‘Hmm. Obviously the varlet didn’t want anyone to know who he was.’
He began to speculate on who knew enough to warn Wulfric and he came to the obvious conclusion that it must have been Tristan. He didn’t stop to consider that perhaps Tristan did it to stop his father from doing something that he would later bitterly regret; he regarded it as yet another betrayal and he started to develop paranoia, distrusting everyone around him, even his son Robert. He retreated to his solar and stayed in there for days, eating sparsely of the meals brought to him and defecating in a leather bucket.
Robert was at a loss to know what to do. The last time his father was like this Edith had been there to look after him. Now there was no-one. He didn’t even have a squire at the moment. As the days wore on Robert started to get annoyed with his father. He could understand how upset he had been to be betrayed by two of the people closest to him but sinking into a melancholic stupor wasn’t the answer. Eventually he got so angry with him that he went to see him and stormed into the solar at Edale to find his father still in bed at midday.
‘What exactly do you think you are doing, father? You lie here day after day feeling sorry for yourself whilst the rest of us have to get on with running your manors with no help from you. The king has called another levy to help him conquer the Vexin and so it looks as if I will have to take our contingent to join Lord Guillaume. Who will look after your lands here then? Leofric? Herbert? But he’s too busy in Northumberland to even visit here. My wife? My two-year old son? No, it’s time you pulled yourself together and got on with your responsibilities.’
‘Why you puppy, how dare you speak to your father like that!’ Hugo exploded, throwing the covers off his bed and getting unsteadily to his feet.
‘Ah! At least you haven’t quite lost the use of your legs and your voice. Now think about doing something useful with them.’
Robert swept out of the room without giving his father the chance to reply.
Hugo got up, pulled on a filthy tunic, and went and sat by the fire that someone had lit in the hall. The more he thought about what his son had said the more his anger faded and guilt began to creep in. He had mistreated Edith - not by beating her which was all too common between husbands and wives – but by taking her for granted and never showing her that he cared for her. The truth was that he had loved her deep down, but he supressed his feelings as to acknowledge them would somehow be betraying the memory of Rowena. He couldn’t blame Edith for thinking that, as far as he was concerned, she was just an outlet for his sexual demands and a servant to look after him and his household.
His thoughts turned to Wulfric. He had liked him as a boy and grew fond of him as he grew older. The fact that he was a masculine version of Rowena and had reminded him very much of her had helped. He should never have made him his steward; he was happy as a knight in his mesnie and was out of his depth as an administrator. He didn’t k
now how he and Edith had become close but, knowing them both, he suspected that it had started when she had helped him with his responsibilities.
Robert had been right, damn the man. He was no use to man nor beast at the moment. He looked around him. This hall reminded him too much of the times that he and Edith had spent here. He needed to get away. The one thing he was still useful for was fighting. He might be getting old but there were few men with as much experience as him and he still had the strength to wield lance and sword to good effect. He decided that he would lead the contingent to join Guillaume Peverel. However he hadn’t quite forgiven Robert for his outburst and so he took Tristan with him, leaving the manors in the Cheviot in the care of his steward, Herbert.
-X-
William Rufus watched the tall man with short grey hair and a face displaying two or three days’ stubble walking towards him beside an equally ancient Guillaume Peverel. At least the latter wore his grey hair long in the modern fashion, although he was clean shaven rather than wearing a moustache like the king and most at court. He regarded Hugo de Cuille with distaste. The latter looked haggard and still had the pallor of a man who hadn’t been outside very much recently. Although he was well aware that Hugo was loyal and had served him well in the past, the king regarded appearance as important. He turned to the man standing by his side.
‘Yonder unshaven knight looks as if he’s spent time in a dungeon. Perhaps I ought to send him back there?’
Walter Tyrell snickered sycophantically. ‘Perhaps, Sire but we need to capture this castle first. I wager it has a good set of oubliettes.’
King William scowled. Tyrell had made a mistake in reminding him that Gisors Castle was no nearer surrendering than it had been a month ago. Whilst he was stalled here, Phillippe of France was building up his forces. Although only protected by a palisade, the castle stood on top of a steep mound which had proved impossible to take by storm. Because of its elevation battering rams were useless and even the catapults that William had with him had achieved little so far.
‘Good afternoon, sire,’ Guillaume greeted him courteously, ignoring Tyrell. ‘You remember Hugo de Cuille who holds manors in my county of Derbyshire as well as in the north on the border with the barbarous Scots.’
‘Not so barbarous now that my good friend and ally, Edgar, is on the throne.’
William had used the Anglicised version of Etgair’s Celtic name.
‘You took part in that campaign, de Cuille?’ William asked.
Anxious to regain the king’s favour, Tyrell whispered in his ear before Hugo could reply.
‘Ah yes, the victor of the only battle against the usurper Donald Bane’s forces.’
‘Hardly a battle, sire. A skirmish only.’ Hugo kept his tone neutral, hiding his dislike of the man.
‘You’re too modest, Sir Hugo. It was enough of a battle to robe me of my faithful Odinel d’Umfraville. How is it that you allowed him to be cut off from you and killed by a handful of hairy borderers?’
‘We were separated whilst crossing a river, Sire. Odinel saw fit to go galloping off towards Berwick whilst I and my son were still on the far side of the river. We hastened after him but he had ridden into an ambush before we could reach him. As to it being a handful, we were outnumbered by four to one, sire.’
‘Thank you for correcting me, Sir Hugo. I am now better informed.’
The king turned abruptly and stalked off with Tyrell scuttling in his wake.
‘I don’t think he likes you very much, Hugo.’
‘That’s alright, I don’t like him much either.’
‘No, but you’re not in a position to do him harm; he can and will take your manors away from you on a whim. You might not care overmuch but Tristan and Robert wouldn’t want to find themselves landless.’
‘But you are my overlord for my lands in Derbyshire.’
‘That doesn’t mean I would disobey him if he ordered me to deprive you of them. It would leave Leofric and Hamo at Hathersage landless too.’
‘I hadn’t thought of that, but I can’t bring myself to toady to him like that odious man Tyrell.’
‘Then you’ll have to put him in your debt by giving him something he wants, like Gisors Castle, for example.’
Hugo looked up at the stone shell keep with its surrounding palisade on top of the steep mound and began to plan how it could be captured.
-X-
The new moon bathed the mound on which the castle was built in a pale silvery light, then it faded into pitch black as sporadic clouds scudded between the night sky and the earth. Tristan and his men lay flat on the slope until the next cloud obscured the moon and then crept cautiously upwards. Oskar’s heart was beating so loudly he was convinced that the sentries on top of the palisade could hear it. He had been born to a Danish father and an Anglian mother in Otterburn but he had been orphaned when he was ten. Now twelve, he was the servant of Tristan’s serjeants. He was a mischievous boy and his pranks amused those he served; most of them anyway. He had learned early on who would forgive him if he made them the butt of his wit and those who would beat him for making them look foolish. However, he had never hurt anyone intentionally – until now.
He had been chosen because he was the lightest and the most agile. It would be his task to climb up, let down the cord which was wound around his waist, and then pull up the rope ladder so that the others could scale the palisade. The problem was the sentries who patrolled along the walkway at the top of the wall. For the first time in his life he carried a dagger at his waist and Sir Tristan had made it quite clear to him that he was to use it if there was no other way to prevent their enterprise being discovered.
The largest knight in Tristan’s mesnie reached the bottom of the palisade safely and braced himself against it. A tall and lanky archer was given a leg up by one of the others so that he could stand on the knight’s shoulders. Oskar swallowed nervously as he was lifted up as high as possible and then he too placed his feet on the knight’s wide shoulders. Putting his hands on the archer’s shoulders he put one foot in the loop of rope hanging from the man’s belt and heaved himself up until he could put the other in another loop hanging from his shoulder. Then it was a simple matter of pulling himself upright and placing one foot and then the other on the archer’s shoulders. With relief he reached up and grasped the pointed top of the palisade.
His moment of euphoria was short lived. He heard one of the sentries approaching the point where he stood precariously balanced on the two men below him. He held his breath but he was certain that the man would hear his heart beating wildly. By some miracle he didn’t; it was only the blood pounding around his body that he felt. Outside of his body there was nothing to hear. The sentry disappeared into the gloom and Oskar jumped up and hauled himself over the top, lying flat on the walkway to recover. He was beginning to feel better when he heard the pad of leather shoes on wood returning. Luckily the moon was behind a cloud at that moment and he pressed himself into the angle between the palisade and parapet. The man passed him and then stopped a yard away to look down at the campfires of the besieging army. He grunted and spat, scoring a hit on the face of one of Tristan’s men who was foolish enough to be looking up at the time.
Fortunately the sentry didn’t spot the pale face or hear the muttered curse as the spittle ran down the man’s cheek. The sentry continued to stand there and Oskar wondered what to do. He knew that the others would be waiting for him to drop the thin cord down to them so that they could tie it to the ladder and he began to fret. Eventually, he couldn’t stand the suspense any longer and he quietly got to his feet, pulling the dagger free of its leather sheath. The sentry had partially lost his night vision as he stared at the distant campfires so he didn’t see Oskar coming, but some instinct warned him. As he turned he saw a vague outline a foot away and opened his mouth to cry out. The sound died in his throat as Oskar’s dagger plunged into his windpipe. The man dropped onto one knee and clawed at the dagger to try and free it but Oska
r was now frantic to silence him. He pulled the dagger clear and sawed its sharp blade to and fro across the man’s neck until his head was partially severed from his body and Oskar was covered in blood.
The sentry fell to the wooden parapet, his head hanging grotesquely at right angles to his body and Oskar’s body started to shake in reaction. He vomited over the dead body and he continued to heave sometime after his stomach was empty. A few minutes later he looked around anxiously but there didn’t seem to be any other sentries nearby. He fumbled at the knot holding the cord around his waist and nearly screamed in frustration when his trembling fingers failed to untie it. He forced himself to calm down and take deep breaths. Then he managed to undo the cord and lower it over the top of the palisade, using to sentry’s helmet to weight it.
Ten minutes later Tristan and his ten men were on top of the wall. The knight looked at the corpse covered in blood and vomit and squeezed Oskar’s shoulder in re-assurance. He stooped low so that he could whisper in the boy’s ear.
‘Well done lad, I’m not sure any of us could have done as well at your age.’
Oskar swelled with pride at Tristan’s warm praise, his initial horror at killing his first man forgotten for the moment. It would doubtless come back to haunt him later, but time would soon erase the memory from the mind of one so young.
One of the serjeants crept along the parapet and disposed of another sentry quietly; not difficult as the man was nearly asleep. The group then descended to the ground inside the bailey. They made their way slowly in the shadows until they reached the main gate. This was the difficult part of the plan. Tristan’s men had to dispose of the sentries guarding the gate and quietly open them so that Hugo and his men could clamber up the slope and secure the bailey. That would still leave the keep, which was a wooden structure surrounded by a circular stone wall called a shell keep, but Hugo was hoping that he and Tristan would have done enough by capturing the bailey to restore him to the king’s favour.