[Norman Conquest 01] Wolves in Armour (19 page)

As the list had progressed Alan’s face had become first red and then puce with anger. “How much do you think he has stolen from me?” he asked in a low voice that trembled slightly with the effort of controlling his temper.

“My guess is about one penny in the shilling. And he’s been doing it for years, even under Estan, who was illiterate and would have been easy to fool.”

“I’ll hang the bastard!” exclaimed Alan, reverting to Norman French in his anger.

“No you won’t,” said Anne calmly, still in Latin. “You’ll have to prosecute him in the Hundred court and get a conviction. That probably shouldn’t be too hard. But as a free man all he has to do is pay you his wergild, his blood money, of 200 shillings. He must now be a very wealthy man and would have no trouble in making that payment. What you will do,” she instructed severely, “is continue to employ him. Firstly, you don’t have the time to do the job yourself and you don’t have anybody to replace him with just now. Secondly, you’ll shortly have to leave to perform your military obligations. Having a corrupt steward who takes part of your income is better than having no steward and no income at all. Remember that the Quarter Day for payment of rents and taxes is just over two weeks away. What you will do is have Osmund follow Kendrick everywhere, take notes of every transaction and ask every cheorl, gebur, sokeman, cottar, fisherman, miller- everybody- what their obligations are, how much they have paid for the last few Quarter Days and how much they are paying this time. That’ll give you the evidence to convict Kenrick and at least get 200 shillings back. It’ll also give you enough information to allow another steward to take over.”

With an effort Alan unclenched his fists, nodded and then with a smile leaned over and kissed Anne on the cheek. He downed a cup of wine and poured another for himself and Anne and said, “Thank you for your efforts. Now as a reward…” he rose and fetched the parcel from the side-table and unwrapped it himself. He handed Anne a large book, with a somewhat knocked-about leather cover and some torn and stained pages. “Book 1 of Ovid’s
Amores
.
Amores
is a collection of 3 books, but I could only get one. It has 15 poems.” He pulled out two others, both in similar condition. “Ars
Amatoria
, Book 2 of 3 in the series. In Latin, of course. And
Solomon and Saturn
, an English work in alliterative verse, but the author is unknown. When is your birthday?”

“The fifth of December,” said Anne in confusion. “You mean that you convinced Brother Leanian to lend you these three books?”

“Better. He gave them to me. They are the poorer copies of what he had in the library, as you can tell by their condition. And now they are yours, although I would ask for the opportunity to copy the two Ovid books.”

“But these are a gift beyond price! I can’t accept them. What did you have to do to get them? Pledge your soul to the Devil?” asked Anne breathlessly.

Alan laughed and said, “Nothing so drastic. The priory prides itself on its hospital, but has only eight of the volumes of Hippocrates’ Corpus, which is a set of textbooks, lectures, research, notes and case studies from the ancient Greeks. They’re written in Ionian Greek, which is a real nuisance because that’s as different from Attic Greek as Norman French is from French. I have three volumes, none of which they have. On Fractures, Of Internal Affections and Of Diseases. I’ve agreed to lend those volumes for them to copy. In return they’ll give me a copy of the eight books they have- The Prognostics, On Regimen in Acute Diseases, On the Instruments of Reduction, Of the Pneuma, On Fleshes, On the Diseases of Women, On the Excision of the Foetus, and On Anatomy. And the librarian gave me these three books. He also asked me to look around for copies of the other volumes and if I arrange an exchange for copying, I’ll get a copy of the additional books myself.”

“Bibles, medical treatises. What other wonders do you have hidden in that room?” asked Anne in wonderment.

“Some copies of military treatises, mainly Roman. How to build bridges under fire, how to build and operate siege weapons- everything down to how to ambush or how to divert streams and poison waterholes. I’m very proud of my copies of Vegetius’
Epitome of Military Science
and
De Re Militari
and my Frontinius.”

“Well, I suppose for a warrior it couldn’t all be poetry and medicine,” said Anne, quite bemused. “But I really can’t accept these books. They’re much too valuable.”

“Then consider them on loan and return them if you ever tire of reading them,” compromised Alan, who had by now finished his jug of wine and was mopping up the last of the gravy on his wooden plate from the re-heated mutton and herb stew that had been the main meal of the day for the household. “It’s been a long day and I have to be up early for weapons training with the men shortly after dawn.”

“Why do you do so much training?” queried Anne.

“I’m a professional soldier. I have to be good at my trade. I’m used to two hours a day practice myself, either with sword or lance, and I’m training twenty mounted cavalry. Hugh does some of it and I do some. It’s our responsibility to make sure they are competent when we lead them out. A well-trained warrior with well-practiced skills stands a better chance of surviving on the battlefield. One of Vegetius’ maxims was ‘Men must be sufficiently tried before they are led against the enemy’- although nothing much will help if you get hit by somebody from behind or get hit by an arrow, or run over by a bolting horse for that matter. I’m a damn good swordsman, but if I put my head over the rim of my shield at the wrong time, nothing will stop an arrow hitting me in the throat if that is what God wills. However, I will tell you that facing those two-handed battle-axes loosens my bowels somewhat.”

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Edyth had been much taken by Alan’s casual gift of a few shillings worth of cloth and he was still tired when he rose next morning after a strenuous night. The morning was spent of the Fallow Field, drilling the men to ride as a team and to act instinctively to the movements of their leader. Alan spent a considerable part of the day crouched on his haunches drawing pictures of manoeuvres and formations in the dirt and then mounting to lead the men through the manoeuvres firstly at a walk and then at increasing speed.

Dismissing the men just before noon, he instructed them to be at the field in full harness the next day and each subsequent day.

Back in the Solar at the Hall Alan stripped off and bathed off the sweat and dust of the morning’s exertions with a basin of warm water, helped (or hindered) by Edyth. When she had finished drying him Edyth placed his hands on her breasts and pulled him gently in the direction of the straw-filled mattress on the floor.

As a consequence the mid-day meal was served late, a fact that seemed to concern nobody except Anne, who correctly interpreted Edyth’s flushed face and unmistakable aroma. Brother Godwine was visiting and although Alan usually only observed Fridays as a non-meat day, today was Wednesday and therefore a day that was only arguably a non-meat day. As it was Lent and Alan had instructed the cook Otha to prepare a noon-day meal of fish. This was fried flounder with garlic and mustard sauce, individual fish pies (Alan’s pie contained capon but otherwise looked identical) and sautéed scallops in white wine sauce. Pipefarces and cryspes pancakes with jam and cream. Anne sat on Alan’s right, with Brother Godwine beyond her and Edyth to Alan’s left.

“It is kind of you and your
cifes
harlot to join us at table,” said Anne in Latin, presumably to maintain some degree of privacy.

“I think that the correct word would be
nýdhǽmestre
, or mistress, as Edyth is my leman,” replied Alan coldly, with some surprise at the sudden argument. Although he had some experience, of a basic sort, with women, he had not yet experienced jealousy and was accordingly not able to recognise it.

“Whatever,” replied Anne. “Her
scamléast
shamelessness last night would have made it hard for any to sleep in the Hall, given the amount of noise.”

“I hardly see what it has to do you anybody as I am not married and am not committing adultery- and least of all what it has to do with you. What I do with my mistress, when, where and how often is between her and me,” replied Alan with some asperity. “You seem to be acting like a gebur’s wife who has found her husband rutting in the hayloft with the milk-maid, or perhaps in the barn with one of the sheep!”

Anne coloured at that image. Although the others, even Brother Godwine who could read some Latin but could speak little of the language other than the incantations of the various prayers, could not understand the full content of their conversation, the use of the few English words and the tone of the conversation gave them a hint at what was being discussed. While Alan could not recognise jealousy, Edyth could and smiled quietly to herself.

“And now I hear that you are to march north with the your ‘Bastard’ king’s army to enslave more good Englishmen,” continued Anne heatedly, now in Anglo-Saxon. A hush fell over the Hall.

“What do you mean?” asked Alan with restraint.

“Well, you foreigners come here, invade, kill thousands of Englishmen, dispossess us of our lands and want to turn all our people into slaves,” shouted Anne.

Alan sat back, washed his hands in a herb-scented finger-bowl and considered for a moment. “Firstly, I will accompany William fitzOsbern on his journey north in about three weeks. We leave just after the Feast of the Annunciation and we’ll escort the Hundred’s taxes to Colchester on the way. I’ll take five Englishmen with me. I will also return you to your own manor at that time and arrange for the Infirmarer at the priory to come and visit you two weeks later to check your leg and remove the splints. It’s probably safe for you to start walking with the use of two crutches now.

“Secondly, William of Normandy’s parents were not married, so it is true he is a bastard. It is not a description that I would recommend that you use. He has in the past had removed all four limbs of thirty odd people at Alencon who made jest at his birth, It’s not that he does not acknowledge it, but that as a powerful lord he is not prepared to accept insult.

“Thirdly, he is not just my king, he is yours, and that of every other Englishman. He was anointed by Archbishop Ealdred of York, an Englishman, on Christmas Day just past. What right has he to be king? The same right as Cnut fifty years ago- the right of conquest. The Norwegians and Danes have come and conquered this land many times and been accepted as legitimate kings. Harald Hardrada invaded in early September last year. Had he been successful the king’s court would now be speaking Danish instead of Norman French.

He took a sip of wine and continued, “Incidentally, I would recommend that you learn Norman French as soon as possible, as you’ll need to converse with Normans who do not speak English and you should never rely on an interpreter you don’t know. To return to the issue you raised, what defeated England was its inability to deal with three invasions, including that of Harold Godwinson’s own brother Tostig, and four hard battles in six months. You should be relieved Harald Hardrada and his Vikings aren’t in control of the land. Normans are constantly quarrelling and fighting, but do so for a reason- usually for land or money. Norsemen do it just because they’re bored. Hardrada was a pagan barbarian, only nominally Christian since he had two wives. He was unpopular even with his own people because his cruelty, was dishonest and capricious. He was cunning and clever- but with a joy of bloodshed. To be trusted by nobody, as shown by his actions while in the employ of the Byzantine Empress.

“Fourthly, as far as I am aware no Englishman has so far been dispossessed of lands he lawfully owns. William made promises of land and riches to those who followed him. He has been able to keep those promises from the lands resumed from Harold and his brothers Gyrth and Leofwine. The Godwinsons controlled nearly half of England in their earldoms. They used the land for their own enrichment and advancement.

“Edgar the Aetheling, together with Archbishop Stigand and many others submitted at Berkhampstead. Edwin of Mercia and Morcar of Northumbria submitted shortly after the coronation. So also did Thorkel of Arden, Copsi and many others. Edgar Aetheling, the man the Witengemot elected king after Harold’s death, has been treated as a kinsman and endowed with additional lands, not killed or chased into exile as happened in Cnut’s time. Edward’s wife has been treated well and confirmed in her lands and her dower. There has been no massacre such as Cnut instigated at Christmas 1017, when he had many Eadwig, the then Aetheling, and other high ranking nobles of Mercia murdered. The English royal family has not had to have itself and its heirs smuggled overseas to avoid assassins as it did in Cnut’s day. Englishmen are being confirmed in their lands, and in most of their offices- at a price of course. William never does something for nothing and he has a large amount of mercenaries in his army that he has to pay.

“You made a point about enslavement. Frankly, the biggest embarrassment I have is the fact that I now own fourteen men and their families, my theows. They are Christians. In Normandy we don’t own men, women and children, able to sell them at whim. I know that for most that status is only temporarily, usually for not being able to pay debts or fines, except for the war captives. How many do you own yourself? I really don’t know what to do with them. They’ve been useful for the last few months in working to build my new fort, along with the labour from the cottars and the sokemen, but what do I do with them in the longer term? Owning people and being able to sell them is distasteful to me. I could emancipate them and make them cottars, freemen who work for me three days a week in return for the rent on their cottage. That would accord with traditional English custom.