The Princes' Revolt Page 2

  I poured some more wine. “You said that William Marshall was more than capable. Why not sit back and allow him to do what you have done these past years?”

  “As I said King Henry needs him to help his son rule England.” He sipped the wine. “You know that we had to go to Ireland this year? De Clare had problems. We now have a High King, King Rory O'Connor. He may be able to control the island but I am not certain. I am more confident of your ability to quell the Scots. When we fought King William the last time he struck me as an overconfident king.”

  I nodded, “The problem with fighting the Scots, as you well know, is bringing them to a place where they can be fought. The castles to the north of us, despite the poor efforts by de Puiset are too strong for the Scots to take. My fear is that the Scots will split into warbands and strike at the smaller places.”

  We spoke until we were both too weary to keep open our eyes. Who knew how many more evenings we would be able to sit and talk. Although the talk was of the campaign it revolved around our men. Knights like Sir Harold and Sir John were like brothers to him. “And how is Wulfric?”

  “He will not go to war again. He wishes to but when you see him next, tomorrow night I hope, then you will see why.” I could not help glancing at my father’s left hand which he now kept covered whenever possible. “His wounds hurt him. He finds movement difficult and so he drinks more than is good for a man to take away the pain. He was always a well-built and powerful warrior. He has now lost that power. He is now just a big man.”

  My father nodded, sadly and raised his goblet, “Here is a toast to Dick and Wulfric. They were always, with Sir Edward, my rocks. Perhaps Dick was the lucky one. He died in battle.”

  Alice appeared in the doorway. She had her hands on her hips. “My lords, you two are the only ones left awake save poor Master Padraig. I wish to go to bed even if you do not!”

  My father smiled, “You could go to bed, Alice. You do not need to worry about us.”

  She began to collect the goblets and platters. “The day that I cease to worry about you two will be when I am sleeping in the graveyard with my husband Alan! Come, it is almost cock crow!”

  She was right and I had barely nodded off when I heard the hustle and bustle of the castle waking up. It would be a busy day. Padraig’s knighting and the feast would keep us all occupied not to mention the preparations for the campaign. In many ways it was not the ideal time to be going to war. It was coming on to autumn. Perhaps in the balmier lands of Normandy it might be easier but here, in the north and on the edge of the kingdom, the weather could be as great an enemy as the Scots. Our one advantage was our herd of horses. We had enough so that all the men we took to war would be mounted. The archers would not fight from the backs of their horses but it was handy to know that we could get to the enemy quickly and, if needs be, leave just as quickly.

  Samuel’s knighthood had been a small affair. There had just been my household knights in attendance. Padraig’s was also small and intimate. My church was a small one and it was cosier that way. When he had been dubbed my father gave him his spurs. He was now a knight. He had no squire and would still be dependent upon my father until he was given a manor. I discovered that he had already planned for that. My father had been given the manor of Reeth which was in the uplands by Richmond. It had been his plan to make that his home when he was no longer needed. That was an unlikely occurrence and so Padraig would reap the benefits of the taxes.

  We returned to my hall for a small celebration. When the rest went inside I went to the gatehouse to see if any of my riders had returned. I saw Sir Gilles of Norton. He had with him his younger son, John. John was twelve summers’ old. I smiled when I saw Gilles for he had been one of my father’s squires when he was about young John’s age. His elder son, Edward, was Gilles’ squire. “Had you come just a little while earlier then you could have witnessed the knighting ceremony.”

  He nodded, “That is why we came earlier. My son will escort my wife for the feast but John here would be a squire and I wondered if Sir Padraig had one.”

  “He has not. This is a happy coincidence.”

  Gilles was ever honest. “No coincidence, lord. I have been seeking a lord for my son for some time. Had you not taken on Ralph then I would have offered him John. He is a good boy and he has worked with Edward since he was able to use a sword. He is bigger than most boys of his age.”

  “You do not need to convince me. Come let us go inside. There is a chill wind this morning.”

  As Ralph of Bowness would have said, it was wyrd. Padraig was more than happy to take on the young squire. I was not certain that his mother Mary would be as happy for her son would be leaving the next day with Padraig and my father. He would be going to war! Poor Gilles had to find the horse and provide for the journey south. He and John spent the afternoon preparing for the journey the next day. John of Fissebourne and his wife Edith would have an equally harsh parting. Their youngest son Simon was being honoured; he would be my father’s squire. That meant they would see little of him. Such was the life of a knight.

  During the afternoon more of my father’s knights arrived, Sir Harold, Sir John, Sir Tristan, Sir Wulfric and Sir Henry. Sir Richard lived in the castle and Sir Gilles was already here. Sir James, Sir Phillip and Sir Hugh lived too far away. They would arrive but it would be after my father had gone. I think that Prince Richard felt that he had been slighted for all my father’s knights gave a perfunctory greeting to the Prince and then gave all of their attention to the Warlord. This was his world and these were his knights. Prince Richard had known of my father’s reputation but that was all. I now saw why King Henry had given him to my father. It was to make him less arrogant. It had worked for the King and Prince Richard would be a better man for the experience.

  My wife entertained the wives of the knights. She enjoyed these meetings for she was able to speak with her equals. In the town the ladies curtsied and bowed. She could not be herself. With Mary, Edith, Maud, Anne and the other ladies she could. She could talk of children and she could talk of clothes and wall hangings. Ruth, too, was able to engage in conversations which went beyond warfare. She was now a beautiful young woman. She was old enough to wed and these gatherings were a perfect place for romance to blossom. Sadly, most of the young men who would be attending the feast in the evening were either too young or already married. In a perfect world she would marry a bachelor knight. That would suit them both. Sir Tristan’s son, the recently knighted Sir Richard would have been perfect but he had married Sir Harold’s eldest daughter, Maud.

  It was good to have the castle filled. All of the knights and their ladies knew it well. It was like a second home for all of them. Alice and William had greeted them all like old friends for most had either been squires in the castle, or, as in the case of Sir Wulfric, a man at arms. The last time we had all gathered together was on the occasion of Samuel’s knighthood. There was much to talk about. Lady Maud was with child and so everyone went to congratulate the couple. I stood with my father. He was looking at his knights and there was a frown upon his face. I knew what was in his mind. He was looking at the bloated and corpulent lord of Thornaby.

  “It is Sir Wulfric.”

  He nodded, “Aye it is. When did he get so old and…?”

  “You could be kind and say unfit but it is more than that. His wounds mean he does not get to ride as often as he should. He no longer practises. He drinks to ease the pain and to help him to sleep. I am pleased you came, father, for I fear this may be the last occasion. Father Michael has looked at him and he fears he will not see the year out.”

  “You will not take him to war.”

  “No, that would be foolish and besides he still has a good mind and can control the valley from his castle in Thornaby.”

  He smiled at me, “Perhaps this will be my last campaign. I have fought for this valley and the north for more than fifty years yet I have barely seen it in times of peace. I yearn to do that. I would watch my gra
ndchildren have children of their own!”

  My wife arranged the seating. That was what she did. I did not get to sit with my father. I was seated by Samuel and Padraig. I dare say my wife meant for the best but I wanted to speak with my father for he would be leaving in the morning. Padraig noticed my distraction. “What is amiss, lord?”

  “You leave in the morning. When will I see my father again? He is no longer a young man.”

  “He is hale and hearty.”

  “Padraig, he has seen more than sixty summers. There are no warriors left who are older than he.”

  He looked apologetically at me. He could do nothing about that. I turned to Samuel. He was staring at Sir Tristan’s daughter, Eleanor. I smiled. I recognised the signs. He was smitten with the young beauty. He had not seen her for five years and in that time, she had blossomed into a beautiful young woman. I said nothing and I looked around the room. His eyes had alighted on the most beautiful of the girls who were there and I was pleased. In contrast to her brother and the beautiful Eleanor, Ruth looked disconsolate. All of the men in the hall were either married or boys. I could do nothing about her situation. My son, however, was a different matter. Life was too short to worry about conversations I might or might not have. I had not had enough with my father but my son was here and I could speak with him.

  “You find young Eleanor attractive?”

  He turned sharply as though I had caught him naked. “How did you know?”

  I smiled, “Son, everyone knows. It is written on your face. Strike now. When we have finished eating and before she leaves go and speak with her.”

  “What about?”

  “Anything.” I had seen young Eleanor looking at my son. “Trust me in this. She will be happy when you do so.” I could see that he was not convinced but he nodded. I turned to Padraig, “And you, too, will need to cast your net for a bride. Time waits for no man!”

  He laughed and, when he spoke, I heard the lilt of the Hibernian in his voice. “Lord, I have just been knighted. Tomorrow I may get a squire; let that be enough for a while.”

  “You are right.”

  When the table had been cleared and the food removed Sir Tristan said, “Well Padraig go fetch your rote. Now that you are a knight you should be showing us that skill.”

  Poor Padraig looked mortified. I doubted that travelling with my father he would have had either the opportunity or the skill to master that particular musical instrument.

  I said quietly to Samuel, “Now is your opportunity. Go fetch yours and you shall sing a ballad for Eleanor.” He looked at me. “It will save Padraig the embarrassment of trying to sing without a rote.” He nodded and slipped away. I said, “That is not fair Sir Tristan. Poor Sir Padraig has been travelling. My son has yet to show his grandfather his skill. He will sing a ballad for you. If that would do.”

  I saw young Eleanor’s face light up and her father smiled, “Of course.”

  My son had a good voice but he was nervous. I saw Ruth squeeze his arm encouragingly as he passed the ladies to stand in the centre of the room. He concentrated on the rote. He adjusting the tuning. He did so to give himself time. He smiled and said, “I will sing a song of a knight longing for his lady. As Sir Wulfric’s knowledge of Occitan is limited I will sing it in English as well as Occitan!” Everyone, including Sir Wulfric laughed. English was the only language he spoke well.

  Quan lo rosinhols escria

  ab sa part la nueg e.l dia,

  yeu suy ab ma bell'amia

  jos la flor,

  tro la gaita de la tor

  escria: "Drutz, al levar!

  Qu'ieu vey l'alba e.l jorn clar”.

  While the nightingale sings,

  both night and day,

  I am with my beautiful

  beneath the flowers,

  until our sentry from the tower

  cries: "Lovers, get up!

  for I clearly see the sunrise and the day”.

  He got no further than the first stanza before everyone applauded. I smiled at Rebekah. We knew our son was a true knight. I stood. “I pray you let Sir Samuel continue. This is an ordeal for him.”

  He continued with the whole song. There were many verses. Padraig whispered to me, “Thank you lord. Will I have to learn this skill too?”

  I nodded, “However, I believe that Prince Richard may be of service to you. Look.”

  The Prince was as wrapt as any in the words. I knew that he fancied himself as a singer of songs as well as a warrior. When my son had finished he was the first to go to him. When Eleanor sidled silently next to Samuel to speak with him then I knew that all would be well.

  Rebekah came over and slipped her arm into mine, “Why William, I would never have had you for a matchmaker!”

  I smiled and squeezed her hand, “My love I do not want to be like my father and only see my grandchildren every few years. The sooner Samuel marries then the sooner he can give us grandchildren.”

  “And Ruth?”

  “Sir Hugh and Sir Philip arrive tomorrow. They have sons.”

  “Thomas is Sir Philip’s son but he is just a squire and not ready to be knighted! He is the one of an age with Ruth.”

  “Be patient.”

  The two new squires, Simon and John had not attended the feast. They had much to do preparing for their new lives. I had given them both horses but, as they were leaving on the morrow they needed to acquaint themselves with their new master’s horses and war gear. For them the feast was a luxury they could not enjoy.

  I saw that Samuel and Eleanor had slipped away. My father came to us, “I see that my grandson has a skill which you and I did not have, William.”

  “And that is a good thing. It means he has not had to spend as much time in war as we did. He will be a more rounded knight.”

  “And now I must take my leave. We have a long journey tomorrow. We ride for Chester. There the army I will lead gathers.”

  “Remember you are not a young man and you have a wound, father!”

  He laughed, “Fear not; my days of fighting are over.”

  They left before dawn. His visit had been shorter than I would have expected and it made me, somehow, unhappy. My misery was short lived for the knights who lived further away began to arrive. Sir Philip, Sir James, Sir Hugh and his son, Sir Ralph, all lived more than half a day away. Sir Philip could have reached us in time to greet my father but his castle, at Piercebridge, was an important one and, I suspected, he had awaited the arrival of Sir Hugh who was not only one of his nearest neighbours but a good friend. The youngest knight, Sir James, had been my father’s squire and he had a cautious ride for his wife, Ada, was with child. His eldest son William came with him, riding a pony.

  We gathered in the middle of the afternoon, after they had all refreshed themselves in my Great Hall. Samuel and Eleanor had found time to walk along the river. It was good. We sat around the table and I spoke.

  “Friends we have been charged by the Warlord to prevent the Scots from raiding our lands. They are allied with the French. We do not know their intentions but I am guessing that they are not peaceful.” My men all laughed. “My scouts are seeking the Scots. Sir Hugh, Sir Ralph, you are the most westerly of my knights. Have you heard anything?”

  Sir Hugh shook his head. I noticed that there were flecks of grey in his beard. He was getting older. His son, Ralph was the image of him. He and Samuel were great friends. They had been squires together and were as close as brothers. I idly wondered if he was wed. Sir Hugh said, “We have patrols to the west and the north of us. It has been quiet.”

  His son said, “My father thought it too quiet and I agree with him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “In the summer, when the nights are short and the weather clement, we have many annoying raids from small bands of Scots who come down the high divide to raid cattle and sheep. We are prepared for such raids and my father and led men on weekly patrols. This year we have seen none.”

  I liked R
alph. He had a mind and he had an opinion. I disliked those knights who just sat and did not tell you their thoughts.

  “Sir John?”

  “Durham is quiet but perhaps the Bishop knows more.”

  “Aye, you and I will ride on the morrow to speak with him. By the day after perhaps our scouts will have returned. As for the rest of you how long will it take to bring your men here for the muster?”

  “Do you wish the fyrd?”

  I smiled, “No, Sir Harold; like my father I would rather fight alongside fewer men of greater quality. With Sir Philip’s archers and mine, we have enough bowmen to slow down the Scots.”

  Sir Wulfric growled, “And what of the Bishop? Will he get to sit on his backside doing nothing?”

  “When I go with Sir John I will demand Durham knights.” I looked at Sir Wulfric. He had drunk more than most at the feast. His eyes were red and he had been suffering from wind. He did not look well. “Sir Wulfric I would have you stay in the valley. With so many knights abroad, I need someone with a strong arm to protect my family.”

  He laughed, “And besides, Earl, you cannot have a fat old man who can barely ride five miles without needing to either pee or shit!”

  I saw Sir Harold and Sir John smile, they knew the old warrior well. “You have served this valley valiantly Sir Wulfric. You deserve a time of rest.”

  He shook his head. “I should have died in battle with a sword in my hand. As it is…” he waved a hand, “I am an old man. Get on with your business lord. I have a visit I need to make.”

  When he had gone Sir Harold said, “It is good that he will stay here, lord. He is not the knight he was.”

  I nodded, “And I intend to use speed as our weapon. I do not want a ponderous and laboured march. When we know where they are then we hit them hard. I have wasted too much time on Scots.”