English Knight (7 page)

“It is not an easy route believe me. It is an easier life being a man at arms.”

“I would rather be a knight. When the Normans came on their mighty horses and drove us into the forests I was angry for I wanted to fight back but I could not.  Even with the knight killer arrows we could not defeat them.  I would like to be able to face knights equally.”

“But we have sworn allegiance to Henry.  We cannot fight Normans.”

He smiled, “Who knows what the future might bring, besides it will take some time to train a bumpkin like me to be a knight but I will be your squire, Lord Alfraed of Norton, and gladly serve you.”

I help out my hand and he clasped it.  “Then you are my squire.” I suddenly noticed that Branton and my father were watching us and they were smiling.

We skirted York for the same reason that we had avoided Nottingham.  We had also tired of comments about the armour and weapons wielded by my father’s men.  They marked them as Saxons and Wulfstan and Osric had had to use their strength to ensure our safety. We left a few bloodied noses and broken coxcombs in our wake. Besides which we had less than sixty miles to travel. My father and Branton remembered a narrow stretch of water we could ferry to cross the Tees and avoid further attention. The new men at arms were a resourceful group of men who could chop down trees quickly. They tied them together to make a raft ferry in less than half a day.   That way we could reach the manor without encountering other Normans who might object to our presence. My father was being careful. He wanted a wall around us before he met his neighbours. Strong walls made for healthy neighbours. He knew that the Bishop of Durham was still in London and he could not upset him by failing to present his titles. Any clerics who might be unhappy could be ignored.  The walls were what were important.

We made our wooden ferry to cross the Tees at a narrow bend in the river some twelve miles from Norton. We saw a walled farm on the escarpment and Osric was convinced that we were being watched. None of them knew the name of the settlement. This was not a friendly place. We rode north without speaking to our new neighbours.  As Wulfstan pointed out, “They have been raided and attacked from the south and from the north.  It will take some time to build trust. Fear not, Alfraed, your father is skilled when talking to people.  They will trust him and come around to his viewpoint.”

I was learning much about my father.  In fact the slow journey north had given me the chance to see him in a different light.  In Constantinople he had been the Emperor’s man.  Here he was his own man.  King Henry was on the other side of the Channel.  My father had more authority even though he commanded fewer men than he had before.

Since Harold had agreed to be my squire I had spent every moment of each day instructing him in the skills of a knight. We could do much from the back of a horse.  I taught him the names for all the equipment he would have to service and clean. He had much to learn.  He could use a sword but had no experience with a shield, armour, or a helmet.  None of them were easy to use.  They looked to be easy but in the hands of a novice a shield could be a hindrance.  Each night I devoted an hour to giving him the basics of a sword and a shield. I also had to show him how to ride properly.  He knew how to stay on a horse and that was about it.

Wulfstan and the others spent the same hour improving the skills of the new men at arms.  As archers they were peerless but they had much to learn about other weapons.  We had time and we would use it. By the time we reached the stone church at Norton we were ready to put down roots.

The church was unfinished. There were stone walls and a wooden tower.  The half finished roof was just covered in turf. We reached the site too late to begin work and so we explored the land.  We would camp and when dawn broke set about building our castle.  My father took me in the church while the others scouted the land.

“This will be where I will be buried Alfraed. We have to finish this quickly.”

I gave him a sudden, worried look.  “You are not ill are you?  I know that this cold climate is not good…”

“Fear not my son I have no intention of leaving you yet.” He took out his sword and tapped the floor.  It was dirt. “This should be a stone floor.  The walls are stone but I wonder why it is unfinished?”

Perhaps my ears were younger or I was more alert but I heard the noise from behind the tattered hemp curtain which hung listlessly at the back of the altar. I whipped out my sword. “Come from behind there before I pierce your hide.”

I heard a voice, full of fear, say, “I am sorry, masters, do not hurt me.”

The figure which emerged from behind the curtain was almost a skeleton dressed in rags. I later learned that Peter was but two years younger than I was but it was difficult to tell that from his first appearance.

“Son, put your sword away.” I sheathed it and my father waved the youth forward. “Come so that we can see you.  Tell us your name and your story.”

“I am Peter of Yarum. I served with the priest of this church Father Egbert.”

“And where is he now?”

The young man pointed outside the doorway.  “He died three months ago.  He received a blow to the head when the Scots took the lord of the manor, Baron De Ville. He did not recover.  I buried him and gave him the last rites.”

“You are a priest then?”

He shook his head.  “I was learning to be a priest.”

“And why have you stayed?”

“The church was all that Father Egbert wanted.  He saw it as a sign that civilisation had arrived.”

“What happened here?  We have heard that the manor was raided by the Scots. How did you survive?”

He began to well up.  “I would have stayed when the soldiers came, but Father Egbert made me run and hide.” He pointed to a large oak tree.  “I climbed up there and saw them.”

“Come we will go outside for you need food and I would sit while you tell me the tale.”

Aiden had seen to the horses and Wulfstan had lit a fire.  Faren was already preparing food. She looked up when we approached.  “Faren, this is Peter and he needs food.”

“That he does, master.  Here, eat this to be going on with.” She handed him some stale bread and a bowl of the thin soup she was making.  She was a fine cook and the broth would be nourishing.  When she had finished cooking it would be a hearty meal. He gratefully took the bowl and dipped the bread in to soften it.  He closed his eyes and sucked, almost deliriously on the softening loaf. Father nodded to a couple of nearby decaying logs and I pulled them over so that we could sit down.

We waited until he had cleaned the bowl.  Faren said, “You will have to wait now until the food is ready for all but you will need many more meals before we see some flesh on your bones.”

My father laughed, “She has a sharp tongue, Peter, but she is kind. Now that you have eaten tell me all.  I will ask questions when you have finished.”

“They came from the north across the tidal marshes.  His lordship had not thought an enemy would come across them for they are dangerous.” He shrugged, “Perhaps they had a guide for they knew the secret pathways. I was woken by the noise of battle.  They broke down the gate for it was not finished. That was when I was told to hide.  By the time I reached the tree all of the knights had been killed and Father Egbert struck on the head. They took the Lady Adele and her mother Judith of Norton.  The slaves they took too but the men they slaughtered.”

”Tell me, Peter, for you have lived here with the deceased Baron of Norton, how do you suppose that Scottish raiders managed to get here through the land of the Bishop of Durham and Hartness?”

The young novice looked at the ground and shook his head. “I am but a novice priest.  I know not about such things.”

My father nodded and smiled, “Would you still be a priest?”

His eyes opened in surprise, “Yes, my lord, but how? I am but a novice.”

“You can read?” He nodded.  “Then you can learn.” He pointed to the church.  “I will finish this church and you shall be my priest. I will get you ordained.”

“You can do this, my lord?”

“Probably but you will be God’s man first and then mine.  Understand? You will be loyal to me!” Peter nodded and dropped to his knees.  “Come, rise.  You are no slave. Now as my man you must be truthful. Answer me about these Scots.  How do you know that they were Scots?”

“I did not recognise their coat of arms and they spoke with an accent.”

“Then they could have come from anywhere north of here. Possibly just over the other side of the tidal reaches.”

“But that is Hartness and the land of Baron De Brus.”

My father said nothing in answer to that. “Faren, see to some better clothes for the priest.  Father Peter is now my man too. Alfraed, come with me and we will find Wulfstan.”

We headed north towards the edge of the land that belonged to my father. “We will need good stone and a mason. I will also need to visit with this De Brus and see the Bishop’s reeve at Durham. I need to sniff out the land. There is something wrong here.”

“How will we get the stone here?”

“There are quarries close to Persebrig.  We can sail them down and use carts to bring them the last four miles or so.  That is for the future.  We need more horses and we need our walls up.”

Ralph and the others trudged up the bank.  I saw that their boots were covered in mud. “It is treacherous down there my lord. There are muddy holes that will suck you down.  We need not worry too much about an attack from this direction.”

“And that is where you are wrong, old friend.  Someone used paths in that morass to launch an attack on the castle. We need to make this side of our fort impregnable.” As we walked back he told Branton and his other oathsworn what we had discovered.

“Then, my lord, when we have built the wooden walls we will scout the paths ourselves.  I will become as familiar with them as any attacker,” Wulfstan grinned, “and I am sure master Alfraed and his new squire can discover the joys of swamps too.  It is all good training to be a knight.”

My mouth dropped open, “How can that be good training to be a knight? We ride horses.”

“Aye and when an axe man takes the legs from your horse and you are afoot then you will need to be nimble on your feet and know where the solid ground lies.” He always had an answer.

After we had eaten, my father gathered us around. “We have two tasks this week.  First we make our ditch and our walls.” He pointed to the church.  “We surround the church with the walls and we make a roof. We will have to send to Persebrig for our stone.  I would have a stone floor for the church. When the walls are completed and the church roofed then I will go with Ralph, Garth, my son and Harold and we will travel to Durham.  The rest of you can build my hall.”

Osric shook his head.  “That is too few men to protect you, my lord. Take more of us.”

My father rarely raised his voice but he had this ability to sound his words slowly so that each one was like the blow of an axe on a shield. “I am taking three good knights and a squire for protection. I need a hall building ready for the winter.  We have much to do.” He shrugged, “If there are any guards to be hired or bought in Dunelm then I will buy them. That is all that I can promise.”

And so we worked hard.  All of us, father included, cut the wood for the palisades and buried then in the ground.  Then we dug a ditch all the way around and piled the spoil next to the ramparts. Wulfstan explained that when we acquired the stone we would reinforce the base with it and use it to build a gate and a tower. I could see that adding a curtain for the church would add to our work but father was determined. It took us a good ten days, working every moment of daylight to complete it but when it was finished we were safe; for the first time.

I was curious about the lack of interest in us.  None of those who owed fealty to my father and worked the land came to see us. He seemed philosophical about the whole thing.  “Their crops are still to be harvested as are their animals.  When we are secure then we will tax them.”

The completion of the roof of the church proved to be easier than we had expected. On one of his scouting expeditions Wulfstan had found the remains of a Roman house.  It had not been a fine villa; there were neither mosaics nor a bath house but there were still some stones and, best of all, roof tiles. We made a cart and carried them back so that, before we left for the Bishop’s castle, we had a water proof roof on the church and Osric had some stone for the foundations of the hall. 

When we left we took Aiden with us to look after the pack horses and my father asked Faren what supplies she needed.  Surprisingly there was little she asked for.  “We are close enough to the sea to make our own salt, my lord and you have more spices than I have seen before. Perhaps some flour to tide us over until the crops are in.”

We were up before dawn and ready to ride whilst it was still dark.  There was a well worn track which headed north and west to meet up with the old Roman Road. As it went to Durham and thence no further we took to calling it the Durham Road. We smelled the fires from the farms of our tenants as we headed north west.  We had yet to meet them but the smell of wood smoke alerted us to their position. We knew that the manor given to my father abutted the lands of the Bishop. Redemarshall and Bishop’s ton were the two settlements Brother John had identified on a map. 

The first dim light of the new dawn peered over the eastern horizon as we passed by the first of the villages which we owned.  Thropp had been settled by Danes.  I wondered who lived there now. They had a wooden walled village and it looked to be a good defensive site.  Once we were north then we were in the land owned directly by the Bishop. I saw little evidence of a military presence as we headed along the road which was still cobbled in places. 

Harold and I led the small column while Aiden brought up the rear with the horses. We only spoke once it was light.  Until then, we warily watched and listened for danger. I took the opportunity of examining my squire and his appearance. He was a better warrior now than when we had first met but he did not look like a squire.  His leather armour was functional as were his leather helmet and sword. Until we had a smith working in the fort we would he hampered and have to rely on the weapons and armour we had brought from the east.  He needed a shield. The other expense I needed to persuade my father to make was some better horses.  Scout was a good horse but he was no war horse.  He would struggle to carry me in armour to battle. I needed a young horse which was much bigger than he was. I was not hopeful about being able to buy one.  They were uncommon here in the north.  I would need to win one on the field of battle. Somehow I doubted that Scottish raiders would provide what I needed.