The Princes' Revolt Read online

  The Princes’ Revolt

  Book 17 in the Anarchy Series

  By

  Griff Hosker

  Published by Sword Books Ltd 2018

  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 Design for Writers for the cover and logo.

  Dedicated to three perfect grandchildren: Thomas, Samuel and Isabelle

  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 Gate

  Warlord's War

  Kingmaker

  Henry II

  Crusader

  The Welsh Marches

  Irish War

  Poisonous Plots

  The Princes’ Revolt

  Part One

  William, Earl of Cleveland

  Prologue

  My father, the Warlord, had spent less than a year with us after we had defeated William of Scotland. His left arm had been hurt in the fight and he had been slow to recover. That was not a surprise. He had been a warrior for more than fifty years. He was old. We both knew that he would never be the warrior he had once been. I wondered why he rode to war at all. I had thought that the death of the Empress Matilda would have made him look at his family more. He seemed obsessed with serving King Henry. I could not fathom the reason for that. I, too, was loyal. I was of an age with the King. I was just a few years older and I had ridden with him in Normandy. I was loyal to him yet for my father service to King Henry seemed paramount. It went beyond fealty.

  Once he had healed he had gone with the King to Normandy. King Louis sought to take the Vexin and my father was one of the few warriors feared throughout France and the other countries which bordered King Henry’s Empire. He was there to advise the King and to intimidate and frighten the French. His service to the King kept him apart from us. He returned every few months and seemed happy, even relieved, to be back in Stockton but then a missive would come and he would be forced to leave. He was constantly at the King’s beck and call.

  He missed many events while he was away. Samuel, my son, became a knight. He had shown great skills as a squire and it was an easy decision to give him his spurs. He was desperate to be just like his grandfather, the Warlord. Each visit from my father was a joy to the young knight. My daughter, Ruth now grown into a young woman, also looked forward to his visits. His work for the King meant he missed the change in her too.

  When we received the news that he was to return home again I decided to it into a real celebration. I sent messages to all his knights. Like my family they missed him. I think the one who missed him the most was me. I had not seen much of him when I had been growing up. He had been trying to save England from King Stephen. Then I had been absent. I confess that I was a bad son for a while. I shut out my father. He never saw my first family. I think that when they died and I went on crusade part of the atonement was for what I had done to my father. Now it was he who was absent. I needed him.

  I did not need his military advice. I had skills myself and besides, since we had defeated King William of Scotland, then the border was quiet. Our main work was to scour the land of bandits and brigands. We were still vigilant for the Scottish cattle raiders who still travelled great distances to steal our animals and enslave our people but we had not lost a man in the four years since William had been defeated. I knew that my son, Samuel and his squire Thomas, yearned for some action. The only battle Samuel had experienced had been the one against the Scots and it had whetted his appetite. My wife, Rebekah, thought the peace we had enjoyed a good thing. The town and people had all prospered.

  The only cloud in an otherwise perfectly blue sky was the return of the Bishop of Durham, Hugh de Puiset. King Henry had made him travel to Rome in an attempt to rid himself of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Becket. From what my father had told me the King had hoped that the Bishop would sway the pontiff. He was wrong. The Bishop had been back for a year and already we saw that his people were suffering. Something would have to be done. That was for the future. First, we had to celebrate the return of the Warlord.

  Chapter 1

  My father did not return home by sea. He rode from York. He had with him just twelve men at arms and four archers. I saw his servants, Wilfred, Brian and Osbert. All three were old soldiers with wounds but they could still fight. The small escort was all the protection he needed. This was the Warlord, Earl Marshal of England riding through the land he had saved so many times that men had lost count. As they waited at the ferry I saw a banner I did not recognise and what looked like a new squire. My father waved as the ferry set off from the south bank of the river. Padraig, his squire, was with him and he was skilled enough to be knighted. Perhaps my father was training up a new one but I did not understand the banner. I did not see another knight. My wife was busy with Alice, my father’s housekeeper, preparing for the arrival of the knight who had made Stockton the stronghold it was. Samuel stood next to me. He was as tall and as broad as I was. The grey in my hair and beard reminded me of my age but Samuel’s presence did so even more.

  The smile on my son’s face showed that he was happy at the return of his grandfather, “I hope he stays longer this time. Each time he leaves I fear that I will never see him again.”

  “I feel the same but you cannot change my father. He has been this way since long before I was born. We just make the most of each visit.”

  “Padraig should be knighted! He is older than I am and has much more experience.”

  I nodded, “Perhaps he chooses not to be. He and my father have been together for more than ten years. I was not married as long to my first wife. It may be hard for both of them to part. That may be why he is here. I see that there is another squire with them.”

  Ethelred’s son had ferried the Warlord personally. The esteem in which he was held was clearly demonstrated in the ferry’s crew who could not do enough for him. I could only dream of such respect. I knew that I was a mere shadow of my father.

  He stepped ashore and embraced me. I noticed that the left arm did not squeeze as tightly as the right. He whispered in my ear, “I have missed you, my son, your family and this castle. Would that I could stay here forever.”

  As we pulled apart I smiled, “You know you can! Any time!”

  He nodded, “Affairs of state still demand my attention. If William Marshal was not another able lieutenant for the King then I could not even spare this visit.” He gestured to Padraig, “And one of the purposes of my visit is to knight Padraig here in Stockton. I have been trying to do so for five years but I now have, for a short time, at least, another squire. This is Prince Richard. He is the King’s second son.”

  That was the first time I had met the Prince. I had seen him as a child along with his brother Henry. They had both been less than five summers old. He had grown. His hair was redder now than it had been. I could see that he would be a handsome man. As the second son he would not
attain the throne but his looks and his father’s power might ensure that his father made a favourable marriage for him. “You are welcome to my home Prince Richard.”

  “I have heard much about this mighty rock from my father. It is impressive.” Even at that age he showed us that he was a warrior and understood war.

  I waved my arm. “Come, the river at this time of year can often bring on chills and fevers. Inside we have fires burning and Lady Rebekah has rooms awaiting you all.”

  I smiled as I saw the young Prince taking in the defences my father and I had built up over the years. We took it for granted but I knew that it kept the wolf from the door. Any army which wished to take the soft heartland of the vale of York would have to get by this bastion. When my wife and Alice discovered that we had a member of the royal family staying with us they became agitated. My father smiled, “Prince Richard is here as a squire just as his father was. I have him for a short time and I would not make his life soft.”

  Prince Richard nodded, “And I would be treated as any other squire or knight. My father told me being part of the Warlord’s household made him a better king.”

  I wonder now, what might have happened had Prince Richard stayed longer with us and my father than he did. Events far in the future might have turned out differently. As Ralph of Bowness often said, “You know not what Fate has in store for you.” He had thought to end his days in Constantinople but I had found him and brought him to England. It had proved mutually beneficial.

  After they had washed and changed, for it was a long and grimy journey from York, I had wine, bread and cheese brought to the Great Hall. When our goblets were filled I raised mine, as host, “Here is to King Henry!”

  “King Henry!”

  Prince Richard added, “Good wine it reminds me of the wine my mother’s vintner produces at Chinon!”

  My father smiled, “It comes from my manor in Anjou; La Flèche. I confess that, no matter where I travel, I never find wine to compare with it.”

  “And, father, have your travels ceased for a while? Will Prince Richard be able to enjoy the hunting hereabouts?”

  My father did not meet my eye. I sighed, “Then this is more than just a visit from the Warlord? You are here as Earl Marshal.”

  My father stiffened. My tone had not been the correct one and I regretted my words immediately. But, as they say in Normandy, ‘the carrot is out of the ground.’ “You are right, William but we could have had a pleasant conversation before we turned to such matters.”

  “Of course. It is just that we all enjoy your company.”

  “I know and it pains me to make this such a short visit. I will tell you why I am here and you can make your own mind up. As you know there is money being raised for the crusade in the Holy Land.”

  I did and it pained me that money was being wasted in such a fashion., I had been a crusader and it was a war we could never win. We were fighting for Templars and silken robed knights. The coin that was being collected would be of better use in England and Normandy, reducing the number of beggars, improving the roads, lowering the taxes. It was an argument I could never win. “Aye. We have ours ready to go.”

  “And that is the problem. King Henry and King Louis have argued about how the money should be collected. There is war. Louis is now allied with the Bretons, the Scots and the Welsh.”

  Samuel, who often rode patrols as far as Barnard Castle said, “But there has been no sign of trouble on the border. The Scots have been quiet.”

  “That, my grandson, is about to change. I go to Wales to join the Marcher Knights. We will teach the Welsh the folly of allying with the French. The King goes to fight the French. Prince Henry will deal with the Bretons.” He looked at me.

  I knew what my task would be, “And I will lead the knights of the north.”

  “Exactly. Tomorrow I will knight Padraig and a day later I will take my men and we will go to Wales.”

  We drank in silence. “You are too old to be campaigning, father.”

  “I no longer fight. It is another reason to knight Padraig. He wishes to be a knight who fights for his king.” I nodded, “Had Samuel not won his spurs I would have offered him the chance to be a second squire.”

  That was almost an insult but I let it go. “Sir John has a second son, Simon. He would have him as a squire. I intended to invite your old knights here tomorrow night anyway. This now gives me the chance to tell them of my plans and for you to examine young Simon.”

  “Perfect. Padraig will hold vigil in my church this night. It seems appropriate.”

  My wife and Ruth appeared, “Have you finished with affairs of state? Your granddaughter is eager to speak with you.”

  “Of course and forgive me Rebekah. You must keep me on my guard. I am used to my ways and with no wife to remind me I forget how to behave.”

  I stood. “I have things to do.” Samuel rose. “No, son, you stay with your grandfather.” Ralph of Sadberge, my squire was waiting for me. “Send out riders to the knights of the valley and Sir John of Fissebourne. They and their families are invited to Stockton on the morrow for a feast.”

  “Aye lord.”

  I sought out William, my steward, and told him what I needed for the feast. He had been my father’s steward and was now old and grey but he knew how to prepare a feast. His son John shouldered most of the work but William still liked me to speak directly with him. “I will see Alice, lord. It will be a feast to remember.”

  I then gathered my captains in the inner bailey. Ralph of Bowness, Ralph of Wales, Aelric, Roger of Bath and Wilfred were now, like me veterans. They worked well together and, to me, were better than any knights save those in the valley. “We go to war. The Scots are about to become annoying again. We will teach them the error of their ways.”

  Wilfred, who now had a bald pate which a priest would envy, nodded, “Good. My lads have been getting soft, sitting on their arses all day!”

  “How many men will you need, lord?”

  Ralph of Bowness, my ex-Varangian, was ever practical. Whatever I did not take would be all that he had to protect my town. “I will take half the men at arms and all of the archers. Just use the single men at arms; leave the married ones here.”

  “And where do we find the Scots this time, lord?”

  “That I do not know. My father did not give me that information. I will send Aiden, Masood, Edgar and Edward to find them.” With four scouts I could send two north and two west. The Scots would gather by the border. If they were coming from the north then they would muster at either Berwick or Jedburgh. If it was from the west then it would be Dumfries or Longtown. I went to the well of St. John where I knew I would find my scouts at this time of day.

  They stood. They had been throwing dice. They believed the well would bring them luck, “Yes, my lord?”

  “I need you to see if the Scots are planning some mischief.”

  Aiden was my most experienced scout. He nodded. “Do you know where they will begin their attack?”

  “It could be anywhere.”

  “Masood and Edgar, you will head up to the wall and the Tweed. You are familiar with it. Edward and I will head west.” He looked at me. “This may take seven or eight days, lord.”

  “If it takes less then we know they are close. Seven days give us time to raise the north.” Even as I said it I knew that we could ill afford to be knighting Padraig. My father and I would be better used travelling to Durham and rousing the lethargic Bishop!

  We learned more about the King and his family as we ate, that night, in my hall. It seemed he was on the cusp of having Henry, his son, crowned as joint king. Richard was silent as my father told us this and I saw the question in my son’s eyes. Eventually, he could not resist asking it, “But why? He is young, is he not?” He looked at Prince Richard, “No offence meant, Prince Richard.”

  He shrugged, “None taken for I get nothing from this arrangement. I could have been given Normandy!”

  He sounded a little pet
ulant. My father rolled his eyes, “There is a logic to this, Samuel. It means the King can spend more time in Normandy and his lands on the other side of the sea. William Marshal will have a solid hand on the young King’s shoulder.”

  A sly look came upon Richard’s face. He sipped his wine. “Of course, that is dependent upon the Archbishop of Canterbury performing the ceremony.”

  It all became clear to me in that moment. “And Thomas Becket is still in France!”

  My father nodded, “That is why we came north. The Archbishop of York will travel to London. We have informed him of what is needed. Messages have been sent to two other bishops. When this unrest is dealt with then King Henry will have his son crowned. You and your knights will need to travel south and swear allegiance.”

  “And that is the reason we need to quieten the border. I understand now, father. This is like one of those puzzles we played with as children. You have to move three or four pieces to get at the piece you really need to move.”

  “And now you know why you were given those toys to play with.”

  When we had eaten Samuel, Prince Richard and the squires went to the church to spend some time with Padraig before he began his lonely vigil. For Richard this was important for soon he would be knighted and he wanted to understand everything about the ceremony. For Richard knighthood was all. Samuel and Prince Richard got on well.

  My father and I retired to my solar. It was his favourite place in the castle and Alice, anticipating our needs had lit a fire to take away the chill of the evening and placed wine and food there.

  When we were settled into the two chairs my father said, “I know that you are unhappy about the short amount of time I spend here.” He held up his hand for he could see that I was going to interrupt. “Let me speak. I wish to spend more time here. I am weary of travelling this land and spending time in other men’s castles. All of the problems I have now are due to the appointment of Thomas Becket. The King’s mother and his wife both advised against it and they were right. He squats like a toad in a French castle. He thwarts, by his absence, all that the King would do. The Pope conspires with both Louis and Becket to hurt our church as much as he can and that, in turn, leads to unrest on our borders.”