Kingmaker (The Anarchy Book 12) Read online

  Kingmaker

  Book 12 in the

  Anarchy Series

  By

  Griff Hosker

  Published by Sword Books Ltd 2016

  Copyright © Griff Hosker First Edition

  The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  Thanks to Simon Walpole for the Artwork and Design for Writers for the cover and logo. Thanks to Kent and Julie, two of my New Zealand readers, for giving me such an enjoyable time in Wellington.

  Book list

  Ancient History

  The Sword of Cartimandua Series (Germania and Britannia 50A.D. – 128 A.D.)

  Ulpius Felix- Roman Warrior (prequel)

  Book 1 The Sword of Cartimandua

  Book 2 The Horse Warriors

  Book 3 Invasion Caledonia

  Book 4 Roman Retreat

  Book 5 Revolt of the Red Witch

  Book 6 Druid’s Gold

  Book 7 Trajan’s Hunters

  Book 8 The Last Frontier

  Book 9 Hero of Rome

  Book 10 Roman Hawk

  Book 11 Roman Treachery

  Book 12 Roman Wall

  The Wolf Warrior series (Britain in the late 6th Century)

  Book 1 Saxon Dawn

  Book 2 Saxon Revenge

  Book 3 Saxon England

  Book 4 Saxon Blood

  Book 5 Saxon Slayer

  Book 6 Saxon Slaughter

  Book 7 Saxon Bane

  Book 8 Saxon Fall: Rise of the Warlord

  Book 9 Saxon Throne

  The Dragon Heart Series

  Book 1 Viking Slave

  Book 2 Viking Warrior

  Book 3 Viking Jarl

  Book 4 Viking Kingdom

  Book 5 Viking Wolf

  Book 6 Viking War

  Book 7 Viking Sword

  Book 8 Viking Wrath

  Book 9 Viking Raid

  Book 10 Viking Legend

  Book 11 Viking Vengeance

  Book 12 Viking Dragon

  Book 13 Viking Treasure

  Book 14 Viking Enemy

  Book 15 Viking Witch

  Norman Genesis Series (820-1020 A.D.)

  Hrolf the Viking

  Horseman

  The Battle for a Home

  The Aelfraed Series (Britain and Byzantium 1050 A.D. - 1085 A.D.)

  Book 1 Housecarl

  Book 2 Outlaw

  Book 3 Varangian

  The Anarchy Series (England 1120-1180)

  English Knight

  Knight of the Empress

  Northern Knight

  Baron of the North

  Earl

  King Henry's Champion

  The King is Dead

  Warlord of the North

  Enemy at the Gates

  Warlord's War

  Kingmaker

  Modern History

  The Napoleonic Horseman Series

  Chasseur à Cheval

  Napoleon’s Guard

  British Light Dragoon

  Soldier Spy

  1808: The Road to Corunna

  Waterloo

  The Lucky Jack American Civil War series

  Rebel Raiders

  Confederate Rangers

  The Road to Gettysburg

  The British Ace Series

  1914

  1915 Fokker Scourge

  1916 Angels over the Somme

  1917 Eagles Fall

  1918 We will remember them

  Combined Operations 1940-1945

  Commando

  Raider

  Behind Enemy Lines

  Dieppe

  Toehold in Europe

  Sword Beach

  Other Books

  Great Granny’s Ghost (Aimed at 9-14-year-old young people)

  Adventure at 63-Backpacking to Istanbul

  Prologue

  Stockton Castle

  The defeat at Oxford still rankled with me. We had been close to success and claiming the crown for Henry FitzEmpress and then, after the disaster of Winchester, we had lost it all. The civil war had dragged on for too long already and the people were weary. For the land to grow they needed peace. That defeat meant we were as far away from success as ever. I had saved the Empress but it had been at a cost. In my absence I had lost my oldest friend, Sir Edward of Thornaby and I was surrounded on all sides by enemies. With the Empress and her brother trapped in the south west the prospect of defeating Stephen the Usurper seemed even more remote. The only other sparks of rebellion against Stephen the Usurper had been extinguished. The Bishop of Ely's rebellion had been quashed and the unpredictable Ranulf, Earl of Chester had, once again, sided with Stephen. I was alone.

  However, I had sworn an oath and I would not be foresworn. Henry FitzEmpress, the son of the Empress, would sit on the throne of England. His mother's opportunity had come and it had gone. We both accepted that she would never be Queen of England. In our occasional, sanitized correspondence we just spoke of advancing the claim of her son. When Stephen had all but conceded defeat in Normandy I hoped that this was the beginning of a time of success. After Matilda's husband, Geoffrey of Anjou, was anointed Duke of Normandy, my hopes were dashed. King Henry and I had fought against Count Fulk for many years to prevent that very situation. It was ironical that Fulk was now King of Jerusalem and Norman knights had given the Dukedom to the Count of Anjou.

  Henry was now heir to the dukedom but that brought him no closer to his crown. Between my fortress in the north and the Earl of Gloucester in the south, Stephen held all. There were many leagues of England through which I travelled at my peril. I was frustrated in my northern stronghold. Although I had agreed to allow Henry to go back to Normandy I now regretted that. I would have had him by my side so that I could guide him and advise him. I was still convinced that I had a part to play in giving the throne to Matilda's son. When I received the unwelcome news that both Miles of Gloucester and Brian Fitz Count were dead my spirits were as low as they could be. They had been both noble and skilful leaders. They had been my hope that the Empress Matilda might salvage something in the south west and might begin to make inroads into the lands held by Stephen the Usurper. As word came that many other supporters had taken the cross and gone to Crusade I turned my attention to my position. Until I could do something about regaining the throne for Henry I would make my lands even stronger. We would not sit and wait for our enemies. We would seek them and bring them to battle. I was still the Warlord of the North and the Champion of the Empress.

  In the year since I had returned from Oxford I had not been idle. Alice, along with John, my steward, chastised me, albeit gently, for not resting more. My housekeeper was like a fretful mother hen. Perhaps she was right for I was in the saddle every day. I was not a lord who went hunting, hawking and enjoying the life of a noble. I was a warrior. I had been one since I had left Constantinople. Now, by my reckoning, I was forty three years old. There were few in my position who lived that long. Battle and disease often took knights and warriors younger than that. Wulfric and Dick were the only two of my men who were of an age with me. The rest were the younger knights; they were the squires and the sons of the knights who had first fought for me.
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br />   My castle had become the equal of any in the north. The Scots had long ago learned to avoid it. I had chased away the de Brus family from their lands around Guisborough and I had a tight ring of well defended castles around my heartland of the Tees Valley. We forayed out to snuff out signs that Stephen's supporters were encroaching on our land. There had been a time when we had just reacted to danger now we sought out the danger first.

  I was no longer alone in my castle. I had taken Sir Edward's two children, Mary and James as my wards. They made it more like a home again. My two squires, Gilles and Richard, were now training James to be a knight. I had three squires. Soon I would knight both Gilles and Richard. They had proved themselves worthy more than enough. I needed the young James to be a better squire before I did so. He had still to get over the death of his father. He brooded a great deal.

  I had hoped that James would replace my son who was lost to me for he lived in Normandy and now viewed Geoffrey, Duke of Normandy as someone he would follow rather than his own father. As Henry FitzEmpress was also there that was doubly galling. My son's annual letter was so formal that I wondered if it had been dictated by his steward. I had more news from my castellan, Sir Leofric, who managed my estates in Anjou.

  As I looked across the River Tees, on that summer morning I could not help but feel sorry for myself. I took myself across my bailey and out of my castle to visit the church. My wife and daughter were buried there. It had been so many years since they had been taken by the plague that I could barely remember what my daughter looked like. I knelt by their grave. The silence and the darkness helped to soothe me. As I closed my eyes I saw the face of my wife, Adela. Her voice drifted in my ears but her words were muffled. It was like listening in a fog. She was trying to speak with me but I heard nothing.

  "I am sorry, Adela, I will clear my mind and then, mayhap, your words will come to me."

  The other place I found solace was Norton. That had been my father's manor. He had died and was buried there. Erre, one of the Varangian Guard who served me, was lord there now. One fresh morning, taking James only, I rode the few miles to Norton. As I rode my spirits began to ride. There had been a time when there had only been farms close by the two manors. Now the fertile valley was tilled by many farmers who felt safe and secure in my northern enclave. The farmers knuckled their heads and bowed as we rode past.

  James broke the silence, "The people seem happy, lord."

  "Aye they are. A farmer is always happy if he can grow his crops and raise his animals without being raided and having them stolen." I smiled. It was the first in some time. "The fact that I do not over tax them helps."

  "Why not tax them more?"

  "I pay no taxes. I do not pay to Stephen and I do not pay to the church. We have many expenses. I maintain an army and that must be paid for. That is the only reason I tax. I take just what I have to from my people and augment it with coin from my enemies. We are lucky that we can trade with Denmark. There is conflict there too and their most powerful leader, Valdemar the Great, is grateful for both our iron and our weapons. Alf the Smith produces weapons which are much sought after. Their civil war means profit for us and we can use that to hire men."

  He nodded, "John, the steward, tells me that he seeks out old wounded warriors who once served you and he encourages them to come here. Why my lord?"

  "Our system is based on men serving a lord and a lord serving a king. It works both ways. If they serve us then we have a duty to protect them. Besides what better farmer than one who was once a warrior? It means we have farmers who can fight!"

  Norton was just a large hall and church surrounded by a strong wooden wall and ditch. The motte was small but it was the river and the swamp to the north which protected the village. My manor to the south was close enough for a refuge. Erre and the last of his Varangians had little to do save provide reassurance for the farmers that there were warriors close by who could fight. When I arrived their steward, Ralph, told me that they had gone hunting. I smiled for it would be on foot. They would have gone to the woods of Wulfestun.

  "Thank you Ralph, I came here to visit the church. James, water the horses. Have a look around the manor. This is the oldest one. Stockton is bigger but younger."

  I entered the small stone built church. It had been the first building which William the mason had built. I could not see the priest, Father Osbert. It did not matter. I had no need to be shriven. It was not just my father who was buried here but the men who had followed him from the east. Most had died during an attack by the Scots. The ones who had died thereafter had been buried in the churchyard.

  I knelt and laid my sword across the tomb. The blue stone set in the pommel of the sword had come from the sword of the last Saxon king of England, Harold. My father had saved it and bequeathed it to me. It was a connection both to the past, my father and my namesake.

  I spoke to my father as though he was still alive. I know that there were priests who would frown on such things but I was in a church and my father had died close by. "Father, have I failed? I have tried to do that which I thought you would have wished and that which I thought was right but I have not managed to do anything I intended. What should I do? Is it better to be the willow and bend with the breeze?"

  There was silence. I listened for a voice in my head but none came. The candles, burning above the altar, flickered a little but that was not a sign; that was just the movement of air. I stood, disappointed, and sheathed my sword. I still had no answers. I stepped into the light. It was so bright it almost blinded me.

  "My lord, it is good to see you."

  I looked down and saw Tom Lame Leg bowing before me. He looked five years younger than the last time I had seen him close to Lincoln. Then he had been close to death. Now he looked hale and hearty. Two years of life in the north had improved him. He now had a second chance of life. A shy woman behind him also bowed.

  "Good to see you Tom. Life is good?"

  He grinned, "Aye lord. This is Morag. She is to be my bride. I am here to see Father Osbert to arrange it."

  I looked at Morag. She was not young and she was homely but her arm through Lame Tom's and the look she gave him showed me that they were both happy. "Congratulations. The priest is not here." I reached into my purse and handed him a silver crown. "This is for you and your bride."

  He shook his head, "My lord you have given me all, already! I have a farm, a horse and a sword all from you."

  "And now you shall have a coin." I handed it to Morag, "Here Morag, you are not stubborn like this old warrior here! Take it!"

  She took it and kissed my hand, "Thank you my lord and thank you for saving this man. He told me what you did for him and for me."

  I frowned. I had never seen the woman before. "When did I help you, Morag?"

  "When you and your warriors rescued us from the Scots. We lived at Hexham and served Sir Hugh. Had you and your men not come I would be a slave now. You fetched us to Stockton and I found work. When Tom here came to the market it was as though it was meant to be. You have given two of us a life, sir."

  I nodded, "Then I am happy. I pray God grants you a happy and a peaceful life."

  Tom grinned, "Aye sir and children! I may be old but I can still sire warriors to fight for you."

  Morag blushed and nudged him, "Tom! Whatever will the Earl think?"

  I smiled, "He will think that he is grateful to have the two of you in my lands. God speed!"

  I mounted my horse as Father Osbert came through the gate carrying bunches of fresh herbs he had collected. I waved and headed back to my home. I had had my sign. Until Henry became a man I would just make sure that my land was still a haven for those such as Tom. I would build up my army and my finances so that I could afford to support Henry when he was old enough to wrest the throne from Stephen. I would make alliances with those who could help me and make sure that any who were my enemies would fear.

  Chapter 1

  My ship, 'Adela', was the way I kept in touc
h with the world. The Empress sent letters to La Flèche. They would be picked up and brought home to me by her captain, William of Kingston. I would send letters the other way. If there was a letter from my son then it would come back the same way. It was Sir Leofric who was the most conscientious when it came to writing. He dictated to his clerk so that there was a full letter each time 'Adela' docked. That way I knew exactly what was going on in Anjou and the wider world. It was how I heard of the deaths of those leaders in whom the Empress could trust. We were becoming fewer in number.

  My cargo ship had a good crew who shared in the profits from our voyages. They also had a keen eye for new markets. It was they who told me of the civil war in Denmark and their need for both iron and weapons. With De Brus out of the way we now controlled the iron mines in the Eston hills. Sir Gilles of Normanby kept a close watch on those and he was supported by Wulfric of Thornaby. The bends in the River Tees meant that my sentries in the east tower could see her masts as she made her tortuous way from the sea. It ensured that John, my steward, and myself were there at the quay to welcome him.

  John was in good spirits. "More profit sailing down the river, my lord. Perhaps we should think of building or buying a second cog?"

  "Commerce is your business John. You handle the purse strings. So long as I have enough coin to pay my soldiers then I am happy."

  "Then I will have the shipwrights begin work." He rubbed his hands as though the money was in our purse already. “Ethelred has said he wishes to go into business with us and he is keen for his own ship. We can enter a partnership with him.”

  In the last few years we had found skilled men seeking work in our valley. The lack of taxes and the relative peace and stability were important. The river, apart from Ethelred's ferry, had been underused. When Ethelred found the five shipwrights seeking work he saw an opportunity. He built them a yard just downstream from his ferry and had huts built for them by our eastern walls. With more men wishing to fish both in the river and out to sea then it became a thriving business. So far they had not built a cog but John was confident that they could build one.