The Silver Falcon (70 page)

William, and his pioneering use of the hood in medieval England, is therefore definitely imaginary. Nonetheless, Friedrich was probably not the only hawking enthusiast to learn about and adopt hoods during the Crusades. Records show that Richard the Lionheart indulged his passion for falconry in the East and observed Arab falconers and their birds with delight.

The kind of rise William experiences in the novel was certainly not the norm, but it was absolutely possible. At least one of King John’s falconers is known to have risen to the position of royal falconer without any family connections (see Robin S. Oggins,
The Kings and Their Hawks
[New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2004], 44).

Marguerite and her parents are imaginary characters, too. One could call them cuckoos in the nest, for the de Hauvilles actually were one of the greatest and most successful falconing families of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. And it should be noted that a marriage was a common and completely accepted way for the king to reward good service. This applied to falconers just as much as to knights.

Like his ancestors and descendants, John was an avowed hawking enthusiast who owned a large number of birds. Some were presented to him as gifts or in support of requests for favors, some he bought himself, and others were acquired by his falconers. In fact, in the year 1205, it was decreed that any falcon entering an English port had to be inspected by Henry and Hugh de Hauville before they could be sold elsewhere. The king’s falconries were spread throughout the country, so he could hunt at any time, wherever he found himself, without having to carry his falcons on his constant travels.

The hunting scenes from the
Traité de Fauconnerie
(German translation, Dr. Peter N. Klüh,
Schlegel/Verster van Wulverhorst
[Darmstadt: Verlag Peter N. Klüh, 1999]) were the perfect basis for the description of hunting with birds of prey.

The records do not show whether William Marshal (first Earl of Pembroke, also known as Guillaume le Maréchal or the Marshal) had any love affairs before his marriage, and they do not give any indication of how many “bastards” he may have fathered. Who knows, perhaps there was a great love in his life, like the one I have created for him with Ellenweore. I am sure of one thing, though: Marshal would have been fond of this far-from-ordinary woman and her charming, obstinate son.

I would like to stress that the book in your hands is a novel and not a history book. Nevertheless, the political and historical background of the time is very important. It is worth remembering that the level of people’s knowledge of current affairs depended
very much on their social standing. Only the most important news (as well as a great many rumors) spread far enough by word of mouth to reach the common people. For this reason, as in my first novel (
The Copper Sign
), I have described only as much history as the main character would have known. Although a falconer would have had a better view behind the scenes than a swordsmith, William does not know as much as a baron whose family might have served the king for generations.

William Marshal, however, a scion of the lesser nobility and perhaps the most famous knight of his time, served four kings during his breathtaking career and rose to be regent of England. He certainly would have had a quite different insight. Look forward, therefore, to my next novel, for the charismatic Marshal finally comes to the fore as the main character in the third part of the trilogy.

As far as the language of twelfth-century England and Normandy is concerned, it was subject—just as ours is today—to constant change. It was influenced by the Norman French of the aristocracy, by the Latin of the Church, and by the Anglo-Saxon of the common people. New words entered the language from those encountered by knights, servants, and laborers during the Crusades (Arabic, Persian, and so on). I therefore decided to use a readable English, avoiding modern words and expressions, without using a pseudo-medieval language.

William Marshal’s wedding did take place in London, as did the attacks on the Jews on the day of Richard’s coronation. A contemporary witness, William FitzStephen (
ca.
1174–83), was my inspiration for the description of the outskirts of London (see Henry Thomas Riley, ed.,
Liber custumarum
, Rolls Series, no. 12, vol. 2 [1860], 2–15, London Records Office). Even the glow in the sky is mentioned in some sources. As a rule of thumb, it can be said that events concerning historical figures are more or less backed up by evidence. This does not mean that I have not allowed
myself a little poetic license. Henry de Tracey, for example, really was one of the most powerful barons in the southwest of England and is one of the historical figures in the novel, but I invented his daughter Maud, who married the fictitious Odon, and the meeting of the barons at de Tracey’s house.

It is the nature of the historical sources that they include gaps and contradictions. Carefully, but with great pleasure, I have evened them out by using my imagination.

On the subject of homosexuality, it is important to note that this word was unknown in the Middle Ages, as was its modern definition in terms of a sexual preference. So-called sodomites were held responsible for all kinds of catastrophes; they were condemned, at least partly, because it was believed their behavior was a passing phase to which they succumbed through sinfulness and obduracy.

Opinions are divided as to whether Richard the Lionheart was homosexual. This may be because of the ambiguous sources of the twelfth century, or perhaps because his time, in which attitudes to homosexuality were much less explicit than they are today, gave rise to many different interpretations.

But as no one knows that for sure and many of Richard’s admirers, even today, think the idea is unacceptable, fearing this could affect their hero’s image, the question that arises is, Does it really matter whether Richard the Lionheart in fact preferred men or women, or perhaps liked both?

I hope one thing at least: that no one can seriously condemn Robert for his love for William.

Many years ago, while I was doing my research, I met Dr. Peter N. Klüh, and he very quickly passed on to me his fascination with falconry. Dr. Klüh is a veterinarian and falconer, but above all he is a publisher of books and magazines about falconry. Though chronically short of time, he nevertheless tackled my texts with painstaking attention to detail and checked them meticulously, for which I am extremely grateful. For his support in the creation of this novel and his suggestions as to how to approach the subject of falconry, I thank him from the bottom of my heart.

I would also like to express my gratitude to the falconer Dieter Koschorrek, who has managed the falconry on the Grosser Feldberg, near Frankfurt, for some forty years. He gave me the opportunity to expand my book knowledge through exposure to the birds themselves. Just holding a falcon on my fist and feeding it was a remarkable experience; the falconer’s explanations, and the chance to see the birds from up close, were a source of inspiration.

Prof. Dr. Helga Meise has enriched me, both as a person and as a writer, with marvelous conversations about literature and critical examinations of my novel.

I thank Dr. Michael Schmidt, a Frankfurt orthopedist, for advice on club feet and their treatment, and Mrs. Ulrike Schön for her commitment as a test reader and severe, though always positive, critic.

My agent, Bastian Schlück, deserves particular thanks for always being by my side with friendly and professional advice.

I thank my translator, Aubrey Botsford, and my editors, Gabriella Fort-Page and Buzz Poole, for their constructive collaboration, and the talented illustrator Franz Vohwinkel for the wonderful drawings that decorate this book.

Last but not least, an especially affectionate thank-you to my parents, my children, and my friend Françoise Chateau-Dégât for their understanding and loving support.

Photograph © 2011 Ilona Dreve

Born in 1964, Katia Fox grew up in Germany and southern France, and started her career as an interpreter and translator. After the birth of her third child, she turned her attention to the English Middle Ages and started to research blacksmithing. That research inspired
The Copper Sign
, the first installment in her captivating trilogy set in medieval England. She lives with two of her three children, splitting her time between Provence and a small town near Frankfurt. She also visits England as often as possible to continue her research.
The Silver Falcon
is her second novel.

Aubrey Botsford has previously translated novels by Yasmina Khadra and Enrico Remmert. He lives in London.