The Bloody Border Read online

  The Bloody Border

  Book 7

  in the

  Border Knight Series

  By

  Griff Hosker

  Published by Sword Books Ltd 2019

  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.

  Prologue

  Stockton 1231

  It was good to be back in Stockton. After the rigours of a campaign, I would enjoy time in my manor and my valley. My daughter, Isabelle, was with child and due to give birth. My lands were at peace and I had time to enjoy my grandchildren, my children and my wife. It had been many years since I had been left alone at the Battle of Arsuf. I had fought in the Holy Land, Sweden, Poitou, Wales and Scotland. I had lost many warriors and I was tired of war. For once I agreed with my wife. I would enjoy being a lord of the manor. Sir Edward, who had been one of my squires and then knighted, had lost the use of his left arm in the battles to retake Poitou. He was now an increasingly fat and comfortable old warrior. If he could enjoy the life of lord of the manor then why should not I?

  The King had shed himself of advisers. He ruled England if not well then at least with an iron fist. Like me, he had been betrayed by those he had trusted and was warier of the motives of others. I had hoped he would be a better king but he had time for he was young. He had seen just twenty-two summers yet he had been king for thirteen years. I had helped to guide him but I was not the Warlord. I knew I would never be the man who had been the knight who had saved England. When the Earl Marshal had moulded King Henry II, he had dedicated his life to make him a great king. I had the Warlord’s blood but I was not him. I was a sword for hire who had managed to claw back his manor and his valley. I was not destined for greatness. That did not worry me for I knew what it had cost Earl Alfraed of Stockton. The small church in my castle was a testament to his losses. I would make Stockton as vibrant as it had been when he had ruled the valley. That would be my achievement.

  Part One

  Thomas, Earl of Cleveland

  Chapter 1

  “The baby is coming, Sir Robert!”

  My son in law and I were in the Great Hall in Stockton. I had always planned to give Sir Robert a manor but I was selfish enough to keep my daughter and her family as close as I could for as long as possible. I took Sir Robert to walk my walls. Birthing was woman’s work and neither my wife nor my daughter, Isabelle, would thank me if I allowed the father-to-be to stalk the corridor outside the bedchamber. Even the castle doctor, Erasmus of Ghent, kept away. My son and squire, William, walked with us as did Richard, Sir Robert’s squire and brother. The two squires were good friends and they walked behind us.

  “When the child is born, Sir Robert, you will be ready for a manor, eh?”

  He smiled and we paused to look over the river, “My wife is more than happy to be here. She worries about you, Sir Thomas. The wounds you received in Poitou caused her great concern.”

  “Aye, well, she has no need to worry now for there are no wars. The King is busy consolidating his power in London and Wales is now settled. He may well wish to go abroad but I will not go. This is my land now.” He nodded. “So, a manor?”

  “Elsdon was a small manor, lord, I do not expect a large one. My ambitions died with my first wife and my folk.”

  “Redmarshal is without a lord. When I go to Durham to speak with the Bishop about the dubbing of my son, I will ask his permission to give you that domain.”

  Behind me, I heard Richard speak to my son, “You are lucky William! A knight eh?”

  William was older than Alfred had been when he had been knighted. He deserved the knighthood but he knew the responsibilities which came with such a title, “I will have to buy my own horse, armour and pay for a squire. It is not all pleasure, Richard. When my father began, he was so impoverished he had to hire out his sword.”

  I stopped and turned, “Fear not, my son, that will not be your fate. Thanks to the prowess of you and my other men we are well off. Stockton is prosperous. When you are knighted then there will be money coming your way. Your Aunt Ruth left a large sum and she wished it to be used by her family.”

  Aunt Ruth had had no family save mine and she had made me promise, before she died, to use her money for my children. I did not need it. I was not profligate. I did not buy objects simply because I could. I bought what I needed and not what I wanted. There was a difference. Just at that moment, I heard a shout from below and then, a moment or two later, Eleanor, one of my wife’s ladies, came rushing out of the west tower, “My lords, you have a son and you a grandson! The bairn is healthy and with a fine set of lungs!”

  I clasped Sir Robert’s arm, “And so it begins for you. Go, see your son. Now is your time. We will join you in a little while.” When he had left us, I said to my son, “And now that my daughter has given birth, we can give our attention to the small matter of your knighthood. We will ride on the morrow to Durham. It is courtesy to tell the Bishop and I can ask about the manor of Redmarshal.”

  Richard asked, “Will the Bishop not have his own man in mind, lord?”

  “He might, Richard, but Bishop Poore owes me so many favours that I think he will accede to my request.” He nodded, “I have to ask you, William, you are prepared for the vigil and the challenges which you will have to face?” Thanks to King Richard knighting me on the battlefield I had never had to endure the rituals of knighthood. My son would.

  He nodded confidently. When he had been my page his brother had gone through the ceremony and William had watched it all. Since Alfred’s death, he had known this day would come. I looked to Richard, Sir Robert’s brother, “And you will be ready soon eh, Richard?”

  He shook his head, “We are a poor family. You are happy that there is peace, for my part, I would that we had a war so that I could take a knight for ransom.”

  I laughed, “I like that you are confident that you could do so.”

  “It is not arrogance, lord. I have learned much from both you and your son. I have held my brother’s banner and seen how you fight. Thanks to Ridley the Giant and Henry Youngblood I am more skilled with a sword than I was. I always knew how to fight but now I know how to win.”

  That skill had come from me. I had chosen sergeants at arms who had the same philosophy. I had been a sword for hire. I had not learned to be a knight at tournaments and jousts. I had learned fighting enemies who sought to kill me and not take me prisoner. My swordplay was functional rather than beautiful. I had seen knights who could use a variety of sword blows yet they had died because their opponent wanted to win more.

  We headed down the stairs to the Great Hall. William said, “I need to speak with Alan Horse Master about a horse.”

  I nodded and as he was leaving I added, “See Henry about the men we will take. We will need just four men at arms with us. Choose single men.” I had many more men at arms and archers who were married now. They trained each day but I was loath to take them from their families for a day or two. I knew how precious time was with wives and families.

  Richard and I went to the jug of wine on the table. I poured us both a goblet, “To my grandson and your nephew!”

  “My nephew!”

  E
leanor came back into the hall. In her hands, she held bloody cloths, “My lord, Master Richard, her ladyship says you can greet the baby.”

  We went to the birthing chamber. My daughter was cuddling the baby and my wife looked pleased enough to burst. Sir Robert stroked his wife’s hair. Isabelle turned the red-faced babe so that I could see his countenance, “Here, Thomas, is your namesake. Here is your grandfather and the greatest knight in England, Sir Thomas of Stockton.”

  I shook my head, “Do not give the poor bairn such high expectations of an old man!”

  Margaret went over and took the baby from Isabelle, “I have had my cuddle. He had better make the most of the times he gets to see you, eh husband?”

  I held the tiny babe carefully. He looked so helpless. I shook my head, “I told you, wife, my days of wandering are over. I shall stay here in the valley.” Thomas opened his eyes. I knew that he could not really see me but I smiled and spoke anyway. “I promise, if God spares me, Thomas, that I will protect you until you become a man. I will show you how to be a knight and I will do all in my power to see you grown, knighted and married.”

  My wife laughed, “You are getting soft and sentimental in your old age.” The baby began to cry. “And the child has had enough of your sentiment already!”

  Isabelle shook her head. “He wants a feed, that is all. Give him here, father.”

  As I leaned over to place him in her arms, I kissed her on the forehead, “And right glad I am that you are well too.”

  It was a good time to be lord of Cleveland. With new members of the family and all of us safe we enjoyed a peaceful time. It was a wrench to leave Stockton but William and I had duties. He was now on the threshold of knighthood and he had to learn about fealty. William and I left for Durham. It was the time of year for taxes to be paid to the Bishop. There would be many knights in the city. I had paid mine already. I paid promptly. It was my way. Others liked to wait until the last moment or to go in person to the Bishop to appeal against what they saw as exorbitant taxes. I knew it was not so. When King John had been king then there had been abuses but King Henry had learned. He was still fearful of the barons but he now used a parliament to allow his peers to have their say. It guaranteed him his coin. He did not like it but he understood the necessity. Richard had asked to accompany us. His brother was somewhat preoccupied. I did not mind.

  We visited with Sir Edward when we passed his manor. We told him of the birth of my latest grandchild. He had children of his own now and, with Sir Gilles to run the manor for him, was a man of leisure. I was pleased for him. Few warriors enjoyed a happy retirement. That would be me soon enough.

  As we left to head up the Durham Road, Richard asked, “How does he remain content with life with just one arm which works?”

  “He lives, Richard, and that is what is important. My father died when he was younger than I am now. Think of all that he missed which I now enjoy. You are young and see war as something which is glorious and a chance for you to show your prowess. I do not criticise you for that but it is not my philosophy and, I think, it is not that of my son.”

  William nodded, “I have changed my opinion since the death of my brother.”

  Richard was silent for the rest of the journey to Durham. Thanks to our visit with Edward we did not arrive until late in the afternoon. We were admitted to the castle immediately. The Bishop was dealing with visitors from the Archbishop of York but we were taken to chambers. There was a time when I would not have received such a warm welcome. Thankfully that was another life and I was no longer considered an outlaw and a murderer in Durham. Our efforts on behalf of the Palatinate had been rewarded with smiles and comfortable chambers.

  “His Grace will see you at the evening meal. I fear it will not be a special one, my lord.”

  “That is not a problem. We are warriors.”

  I took Richard and William into the cathedral. I knelt and prayed. I knew that I was getting older. Would I live to see my grandchildren grow? I prayed to God and to St. Cuthbert that, if I should die, they would be safe and live to be adults. That was all that one could ask. When we were outside, on the green, I said, “And did you pray?” A man did not ask another what his prayers were for. My son and Richard, however, were keen to tell me anyway.

  William spoke first, “I prayed that I would be as good a knight as my brother.”

  I nodded.

  Richard said, “And I prayed that I would be a knight.”

  “Then I hope that you are both rewarded as you deserve.”

  Richard Poore was not the sort of priest who enjoyed a dull cuisine. We ate well that night. If this was not a feast then I would like to be there when he did enjoy one! He seated me at his left hand. My son and Richard had to serve. It was the way of the world. It was part of their training to become a knight. They learned how a knight should eat and conduct himself at a feast.

  “The King has an iron fist now, Sir Thomas. For one so young he has exercised his power well.”

  “He had a tricky beginning. I am pleased with our monarch. He is not perfect but King John was imperfect in many ways.”

  “Aye, you have the right of it.” He leaned into me. “My lord constable at Norham tells me that the Earl of Fife is less than enamoured of you.”

  I laughed so loudly that some of the priests who were close to us looked around, “The day I worry about upsetting a Scotsman is the day they will put the lid on my grave. The man tried to take English land and he lost.”

  “The trouble is the Scots believe that Cumbria, Westmoreland and Northumbria are Scottish, my lord.”

  They might believe that but it is not true.” I turned to him, “You are saying that they have not yet lost their ambition to take English territory?”

  He nodded, “I am no fool, my lord. I have spies and I speak to the lords who command the border castles. They are quiet now and that is thanks to you.”

  I sipped the wine. It was a good one. “That is disturbing. The King thinks that the fact that Alexander is married to his sister will prevent another incursion.”

  “No, my lord, they will come again. My knights are on constant alert.” I detected a plea in his voice.

  I decided to change the subject slightly, “I came here, Your Grace, to ask for permission to give the manor of Redmarshal to Sir Robert of Elsdon.”

  “Of course. He did great service when you defeated the Earl of Fife. I give it to him gladly for you are a buffer against all sorts of enemies and a source of the best men we use when we have to fight. Although I had hoped to have Elsdon given to one of your knights.”

  I shook my head, “Sir Robert could not return as there would be too many bad memories and I would not wish my daughter to be so far from me. She has just been delivered of a son.”

  “Just so.”

  “And the other reason was to inform you that I shall be dubbing my son, William of Stockton.”

  He beamed. “Your son is a fine young man. This is good. I shall send him a present for he, too, has served the Palatinate.” He toasted me with his goblet of wine, “And if you have a knight you think could hold Elsdon for me…”

  “I will put my mind to the problem, be assured of that Bishop.”

  I learned much that night and ideas were planted in my head. We left after two days with the seeds growing in my mind. I spoke with William as we rode down the Durham Road, “I have decided to give you your spurs the same day we christen Thomas. It will be an appropriate time. Then we will put our mind to selecting two squires for us. I have been remiss. When I made you a squire, I should have had a page prepared to be ready for this moment.”

  My son shook his head, “You have been in the service of the King. Perhaps I may know of one.”

  “Who might that be?”

  He smiled, “Matthew and Mark are the sons of John the Tanner. They are twins and were named after disciples for their mother was a religious woman who hoped they would be priests or perhaps go on crusade. She died two years ago. They ar
e both strong.”

  “And how do you know they would be suitable?”

  “Before I was your squire, I would go with Will son of Robin to help train the men of the manor at the butts. Those two were good archers but more, when Padraig started to train them with the sword the two of them showed great skill.” He shrugged, “Since we have returned, I have visited the butts with Will and Padraig. I have spoken with the two of them. They asked Padraig how they could become men at arms. They have two older brothers who work in the tannery.”

  “Then when we have visited with Father Harold to arrange the vigil and the christening you and I will see John the Tanner and his sons.”

  When we reached my castle, I could see that my wife was displeased that I had been away so long, “Husband this is not like you to tarry when there are tasks to be done. The child needs to be baptised!”

  “He is healthy is he not?”

  “He is but…”

  “Our son will be dubbed when Thomas is baptised. That pleases you does it not?”

  “I am pleased that our son will be knighted for he deserves it but not about the consequences of knighthood. I lost one son when he became a knight and William is my last.”

  “When a man straps on a sword he is at risk of losing his life. It matters not if he is a knight or a farmer. Our son will not suffer as Alfred did.”

  William and I first went to Father Harold who agreed to make the baptismal arrangements. “The ceremony of knighthood is not the work of the church, my lord, I leave that in your hands.” He did not say it in a churlish manner but he was right. The dubbing of a knight involved a church but not a priest. Then we went to my town. I had visited on more than one occasion since my return but it was still not enough. My father had told me that a good lord of the manor understood his people as well as he understood his horse. It had taken time to build up the confidence of my people. In the dark years, when I had been away, they had suffered. The town was now prosperous and as we headed north towards the tannery, we had to stop to pass the time of day with folk who were keen to congratulate me on my new grandson.