[Norman Conquest 01] Wolves in Armour (33 page)

“You look well, better than last we saw you! But what on earth are you wearing?” Turning to inspect Alan, looking up as he was more than a head taller than she, she took in his rich but travelled-stained clothes of sombre hue and the sword at his waist, she asked, “And who is this gentleman?”

“Mother, may I present Sir Alan of Thorrington. Sir Alan, may I present Lora Agustdottir, my mother. Mother, I assume father is still at the warehouse?” Alan bent to kiss Lora’s soft small hand, murmuring a greeting.

“Yes, and Beltic is still at the Holy Trinity Priory school. I’ll send a messenger to Garrett and Ellette, Mae and Raedwald to let them know you’re here, and get the cook to prepare a suitable welcome home meal. Now will Sir Alan be staying with us?”

“Certainly, mother. You need prepare only one guest room, and please have Rinan send the baggage up and prepare a bath, so we can wash off the dirt of the road,” replied Anne in an off-hand manner. Alan managed to keep a straight face about what had obviously been a piece of mischief on the part of Anne to shock her mother.

Lora frowned and pursed her lips but held her obvious disapproval in check. After all, her daughter was seventeen, a widow and the holder of a substantial estate- and her paramour did not from his appearance look as if he was a person who was ‘gold digging’. With a nod of instruction to Rinan, Lora led the way through the doorway into the main part of the house and indicated a wooden staircase to the right “Your usual room, dear. I’ll let your father know that you’re here and have Rinan tell you when he arrives. We’ll dine an hour after the bell for Vespers.”

Anne first showed Alan the location of the privy, which they used in turn, before they proceeded upstairs. The bed in the room was just large enough for two, and trusting in Rinan’s discretion they ignored the tap on the door that came an hour later until they had finished their personal business. Anne dressed elegantly in a dark-blue dress heavy with embroidery and wore much of her jewellery, and also of course her dress seax knife that proclaimed her status as a freewoman. With the warm weather and anticipating a warm room for the dinner, Alan wore a simple tunic and hose of understated and elegant black silk embroidered with silver, black boots, his gold signet ring and an undecorated bone-handled knife at his belt.

As they entered the Hall Lora looked up from her chair and frowned when she saw the tell-tale flush on Anne’s cheeks, while Orvin, a small and thin man of about 40 with sparse blonde hair and dressed in a tunic of heavy yellow velvet stepped up to Alan and looked up at him closely as they grasped forearms. “Welcome to our home,” he said in a surprisingly deep voice. “I trust that Anne has made you comfortable?”

“Most comfortable, thank you,” replied Alan, unable to keep a slight smirk off his face. Anne gave a big grin and Orvin blushed a little at the double-entendre.

“A glass of Bordeaux?” Orvin asked to cover his confusion. Alan accepted, as did Anne. Alan declined the offer of water in the wine. The wine was poured from a glass decanter into a set of obviously expensive imported coloured glass goblets. Alan and Anne sat next to each other on a padded leather settee, Anne capturing Alan’s hand to hold ostentatiously. Alan sipped at the wine and closed his eyes in delight.

“Liquid gold,” he breathed appreciatively. “That’s why I don’t like to water my wine.”

“And what do you do for a living, young man?” asked Orvin trying to get to the nub of the matter.

“Oh, I’m a simple soldier,” replied Alan blandly. Orvin looked at the expensive clothes and Alan’s relaxed and confident manner, and obviously took the comment with a large pinch of salt.

“Perhaps if we wait until the others arrive before you start dragging answers out of Alan,” suggested Anne. “It’ll save going over things twice or three times. Firstly, though, before the others arrive, did you get my letter and the six boats?”

“Yes, I did. I presume that will be part of what we discuss later,” began Orvin.

“Actually, it won’t. We can discuss that tomorrow in private. You did as I asked?”

“Yes, the cargo of the longboats was sold at the market here in Ipswich a few days ago and the longboats themselves are on the way to Trondheim to be sold to the Norwegians. Very good cargo it was too! We received excellent prices. The four trading cogs are on the way to various Baltic ports. It’s not the type of cargo we’re used to exporting. It’s all high class- French, Italian and Spanish goods, also with many items from the Levant. The first ship should be nearing Haarlem in the next day or so. But why sell the boats, and we could have got good prices for those cargoes here, so why export it?”

“Tomorrow,” promised Anne. “How much did you get for the longboats’ cargo?”

“£327. I’ll show you the inventories of all the ships at the warehouse tomorrow. And why only ten percent?” demanded Orvin.

“You wouldn’t want to take advantage of family, would you?” queried Anne. “Now I think I hear Raedwald and Mae arriving.” In fact that couple, along with Garrett and Ellette, arrived within moments of each other and a few minutes later Betlic arrived back from school.

Brief introductions were made. Orvin explained that Raedwald owned his own cloth fulling and weaving business, while his own eldest son Garrett worked in the family trading business. “Sir Alan tells me that he’s a soldier and it appears that Anne has a certain attachment for him,” he said in a leading way.

The dinner arrived and was placed on the large table, with the guests being seated. Anne made sure she was seated next to Alan and was sharing his trencher. They started with a bowl of pheasant soup, spiced with cinnamon, ginger and grains of paradise. This was followed by spiced veal pies, pork pies with saffron, cheese and pine nuts, green peas with almond milk and mint, fried broad beans with onions, chicken, veal and bacon stew with herbs, baked veal, with a variety of pastries and tarts made with fresh berry fruit.

When Mae repeated Orvin’s comment, Anne gave a golden laugh and brushed a stray strand of auburn hair from her eyes. “Yes, he is a soldier, of sorts. He’s the lord of Thorrington Manor, not far from Wivenhoe- and of five other manors. We’ve come to work out with you what date would be convenient for you all to come to the wedding. We think that 30th of June or 7th July would be suitable.” That was news to Alan, but he didn’t demur- after all he had said the wedding should be as soon as possible.

There was immediate pandemonium as everybody began to ask questions at once.

“How long have you known him?”

“Since February the 5th to be precise. I woke up to find myself in his bed, where I stayed for two months.” She related the story of her survival of the attack, medical treatment, her return home and a heavily edited version of the attack on Wivenhoe. “So he’s saved my life twice, and is the most accomplished man I’ve met He not only reads, he even owns books. He has his own small library, in English, Latin and Greek. And his English has improved so much that now you can hardly tell he’s French.”

“Norman,” corrected Alan automatically. He’d quietly mentally drifted off into a world of his own. Hearing his own praises sung at length was not something he found interesting, although it did give him some insight into Anne and her views of him. He wasn’t sure how much was accurate and how much was for public consumption. He’d learned by now that Anne was, after all, a very complex person.

“He’s also the owner of a fleet of trading ships,” continued Anne. Orvin’s eyebrows raised at this.

“With a partner,” interjected Alan.

“Only a sleeping partner so far, and that’s only been for nine days,” said Anne. Lora’s face turned beet-red at that. “But I’m sure I’ll be able to help with that and other business matters. We all learned how to turn two pennies into three in this household. And father, the good news is that you don’t have to pay a dowry this time! I still have the old one and have built on it.”

The ladies gathered at one end of the room chattering about wedding preparations, the short time available until the chosen day. The consensus was for the 7th July, dresses and all sorts of other essential items and were gossiping freely.

The men gathered at the other end of the Hall and did what all men do in these circumstances. They drank. Alan stood with Orvin, Raedwald and Garrett. Orvin downed his glass of wine in a gulp, before filling the glasses of each of them. Alan continued to sip at his refilled glass.

“Four years in a monastery,” said Raedwald. “Why did you leave?”

“I had trouble with some of the vows. I was only an oblate, not a noviate. Chastity was the main problem. They found me with one of the young women training to be a nun. I’d had some youthful problems before then but that was the final straw. Nothing to worry about Orvin! I’m a one-woman-at-a-time man and if that was any woman but Anne I’m sure she would remove my manhood with a blunt knife! Seriously, we’re well-matched. The only problem may be that she might be too self-willed and too intelligent for me, but those are issues we have to work out. I think that after her last marriage she’d put up with pretty well anything, although in the last year or so since Aelfric died she’s certainly spread her wings.”

In a change of topic Garrett asked, “What about Hastings? Will you tell us about it?”

Alan paused and rubbed his chin in thought before replying “No, I won’t. There were 15,000 men hacking each other to pieces in an area not much bigger than a cow paddock. There were over 5,000 dead. Bodies, and pieces of bodies, lying everywhere, individually and in piles. So much blood spilled that the streams ran red. No, it’s not something I want to remember, or which should be glorified.”

“What about the battle at Wivenhoe?” urged Betlic.

Again Alan shook his head. “That’s too fresh in the mind and again too many died, many burned most horribly at my command. No! No battle stories! Despite what the warriors say, there’s no glory in battle- just blood and death and pain. If you want you can ask Anne, she was standing by me as we watched the engines at work, but I very much doubt she wants to remember the event either. Or the aftermath of caring for the dying and wounded.”

“Anne was at the battle?” demanded Orvin.

Alan smiled. “I told her to stay in the Hall. It was her village, so do you think that she would obey instructions?”

“Well, I certainly hope that she’s more happy with you than she was with Aelfric,” said Orvin. “That was the biggest mistake of my life. I was newly entitled to be seen as thegn-worthy, having just completed the required voyages. She was fourteen. Aelfric seemed suitable and held significant lands. It seemed an appropriate match.”

“You can at least be sure that I won’t physically and mentally abuse her in the way that Aelfric did. I’ve never beaten a woman yet. She’ll do well enough and be happy, as will I. She even made me pay off my leman and send her away- even before she arrived in my Hall! You’ve a remarkable daughter, not least after what she has gone through with her spirit unbroken. Now if you’ll excuse me, we’ve been in the saddle since daybreak this morning and I think that it’s time my affianced and myself retired. We’ll see you in the morning. Not too early!”

Rescuing Anne from the chattering women they walked arm in arm up the stairs to the small bed.

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Next morning they rose late and, other than the servants, the house was empty. Orvin and Lora had attended the Prime service at St. Stephens Church and had still not returned home, probably visiting the house of a fellow parishioner. Being Sunday the servants expected Orvin to spend the day at home as the warehouse would be closed for the day.

“You know, being in a city with proper churches, we really also should be more observant,” suggested Anne. “It’s one thing to go to church a couple of times a week in a small village when that’s all the services there are, but here most of the churches hold four services a day.”

Alan agreed readily enough, but specified he wanted to attend the Holy Trinity Priory, just north of the city walls, and not necessarily every day as he didn’t expect to sin often enough to need absolution that frequently. He ignored Anne’s muttered comments about fornication being a sin. Dressing appropriately, well but not ostentatiously, and with Anne having her hair covered and wearing a simple dress with a high neckline, they took the short walk along Brook Street to the priory.

The paved streets were littered with refuse and they had to pick their way between piles of excrement, animal and human, and garbage thrown in the street. It had been some time since heavy rains had flushed the waste down the gutter in the centre of the road and into the river.

The town was busy with people bustling along the streets. Women were on their way to the marketplace. The poor, middling and well-to-do all went about their business. Hawkers were crying their wares from stalls and barrows in the streets, seeking to sell items as diverse as haberdashery and meat pies. Every few paces they were accosted by somebody trying to sell something. Taylors’ and dressmakers’ touts stood outside their shops trying to inveigle customers to enter. Beggars cried for alms. Children and street-urchins shouted as they ran and played. One street was nearly blocked by a crowd watching a cock-fight and noisily urging the birds on.

After passing out of the North Gate the priory bells began to ring for Sext, marking mid-day, and they quickly ascended the stairs to the chapel.

The chapel was surprisingly spacious and reasonably well attended with a congregation of about 100 present. Alan mused that they had perhaps been attracted by the benches installed for the use of the congregation, instead of the usual situation where the congregation either stood or knelt for the duration of the service.