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The Princes' Revolt Page 9
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“No, and yet I see villains prosper.”
I thought about this. The stone slab we had laid over Wulfric was freshly carved, sharp and clean. Like Adela’s and my father’s, over time it would fade. “Suppose there is no heaven. Will people remember Wulfric?”
He nodded, “I shall.” He put his hand on the slab. “We will talk of him so long as we live. I will tell my sons and my grandsons of his deeds and how he fought like a berserker of old.”
“Then that is his heaven. He will be remembered. You will keep him in your heart but to answer you truly, I believe there is a heaven. I am not certain what it will be like but if all the good men and women alongside whom I have fought, are there then I will be happy.”
He smiled, “You have comforted me greatly.” He paused, “I pray you do not tell the others what I have said, lord. I would feel foolish.”
I smiled and patted his shoulder, “This is a church. What is said in here remains here. You are a good man. I am proud that you have served with me for all these years. I pray you live a long time my friend.”
As we left the church and stepped into the cold air which swept in from the east I felt a chill around my heart. Wulfric’s death had shown me that I needed to make the most of my time on this earth.
Chapter 5
The death of Wulfric was yet another reminder of my mortality. My old man at arms had had the presence of mind to make plans for his death. I had not. As April loomed and the women of the castle, not to mention Samuel, were all busy with preparations for the weddings I sat with my son and William the steward. He was a literate man. His son, John, now took on most of the steward’s duties and so his father was free to act as a clerk to my son and me. He would take notes during my talk and then write it up so that there would be a record of my wishes.
As he set up his table and wax tablet my son said, “You are not anticipating your death are you, father? We still have need of you here.”
“No, there is no death wish but I have been here so infrequently that I believe it is highly likely that I will die far from here. I will die happier knowing that all is in order in Stockton.”
“Ready my lord.”
I nodded, “And remember, old friend, that all that passes between us in this room is secret and sacrosanct.” My steward looked offended. I smiled, “I mean no offence. You would not be here if I did not trust you completely. I leave the bulk of my money, my armour, weapons and horses to you, William. I know that you will use all wisely. There are exceptions. I wish Alice to be given her own home and an income to allow her to live like a lady. The same goes for William here. Aiden, Edgar and Edward will be each given a farm and an income. I would leave a hundred pounds a year to provide the young men of the valley with the opportunity to become men at arms or archers. It will provide for swords and daggers.”
I took a drink of wine. It tasted better in this solar of mine and I could not work out why.
“I will be buried in my best armour with the first helmet Alf made for me and my first sword. I would be buried next to my wife, your mother. I hope that you and your wife will be buried close by.”
William nodded and added, wryly, “But not for some time eh?”
I smiled back, “Not for a long time!” Other bequests were made and when I was happy William and my son left.
I was left alone and Alice came with a fresh jug of wine. I could see that she had been crying. “What is amiss Alice?”
She shook her head and forced a smile, “It is nothing! I am an old woman but Wulfric, sorry, lord, Sir Wulfric, well, he served with Alan of York my husband. It just brings it home to me. I am getting old and becoming grey and my husband died when he was younger than your son. Sir Wulfric’s death has made me think of all the years I have been without him.”
I took her hand and squeezed it, “I am sorry, Alice.”
“Do not be silly my lord. If you had not come along then I would still be tending Adamar’s pigs, save that he and his family were all killed twenty years ago in a Scottish raid.” She crossed herself. “I am a silly old woman. Ignore me lord. We are glad that you are home and all of us pray that you stay.”
I spent the ten days before the wedding visiting as many old friends as I could. The King had given me that most valuable of commodities, time. I would use it well. I also spent a long time with my grandson in Thornaby. I helped him to learn to become a lord of the manor. This would not be his forever but it would be a place he could learn. He had watched his father be a lord of the manor but now I was able to give him my help. He was surrounded by Wulfric’s men and they were determined to make life as easy for my grandson as they could.
Sir Philip of Piercebridge came to see my son just a week before the weddings. William regarded it as a relief not to be talking weddings and he was grateful for the distraction. “I am sorry to bother you at such a time but I have a boon to beg.”
I nodded, “Sir Philip, since your uncle sent you to us all those years ago you have given both my son and me valiant service. Ask away.”
He nodded, “Philip, my eldest son, is my squire. He will be a good knight. But I have a second son, Thomas. He is but eleven summers old and yet he would be a squire. He and his brother do not get on. Is there a place for him as a second squire for another knight in the valley? I would keep peace in my home and with these two cockerels it is impossible.”
My son nodded, “This is perfect timing. I have need for a second squire. I need someone to help Ralph. He would have to fetch the spare horses and carry the spears in battle.”
“He wishes to be a squire. I would be beholden to you, lord.”
And so my son had two squires. Gone were the days when I needed two. Simon would do. He was devoted to me and more like a servant than a squire. It was unlikely that I would need to do anything other than point my sword and direct warriors on the battlefield. The last time I had drawn my sword in anger had been four years since when we had fought the Scots in Northumbria.
The weddings went well. I was well satisfied. I had seen my grandchildren married. The knights of my valley and their families also felt a close part of it as it tied us closer together. Wulfric’s death had made all of us realise our own mortality. He had not died in battle. God had taken him.
Of course, once the weddings were over then we began our preparations for the coronation. Sir Ralph took Ruth to Gainford and Samuel took Eleanor to Thornaby but they would have just over forty days and then they would have to travel south and swear allegiance to young Henry. We would not be taking men at arms and so our homes would be well protected but, even so, it would be hard for my knights to travel three hundred miles from their home to crown a boy who was just fifteen years old.
As much as I hated to do so I had to leave earlier than the rest. I had to speak with Roger de Pont L'Évêque, the Archbishop of York. I had also visited with the Bishop of Durham. The meeting had not gone well. He was almost belligerent in his manner. I was less than happy about his attitude and his responsibilities as Prince of the Palatinate. The Archbishop understood his role but not so de Puiset. He still regarded himself as being above the rest of us. Rather than being embarrassed at the behaviour of his knights at the battle of Gretna he seemed to blame my son. I intended to speak with the King but I wished to have Roger’s advice too.
As I left I bade farewell to Rebekah, “I am sorry that I cannot spend longer here with you. You are a wonderful wife for my son and I know how lucky he was to have found you.”
“And you are always welcome. My father and family are dead. You are my father now and we love you dearly.”
“You will be missing your son and daughter soon too.”
“I can cross the river and see Ruth any time I choose, besides this might be a good opportunity for the two of us to make Thornaby a home. Sir Wulfric was a bachelor and it shows!”
I gave William, my steward, a golden ring with a blue stone. “Thank you for all that you have done for me. Now that your son has taken on yo
ur duties you can enjoy your life.”
“Lord my life has been bliss since my father sent me to be your clerk.”
For Alice I had a necklace and it, too, had a blue stone. It was made of gold and one of Alf’s goldsmiths had fashioned it for me. “Lord, this is too much! I was a swineherd when you found me!”
“No, Alice, you were the widow of an archer who gave his life for me and we both know that you have held this family and castle together. If it were not for you then Gilles and Mary would not be wed and they would not have four beautiful bairns. That is the result of you and your influence.” I hugged her and kissed her.
My farewells made I left with Simon, my squire, Roger of Bath and Arne Arneson. My three servants would follow with my son. I crossed the river in a more hopeful and optimistic frame of mind that I had in a long time.
There were just four of us and we rode hard. I was riding Goldie. There would be no war which would necessitate a war horse. My mail was with my servants. It felt almost like a holy day as we headed south. I was able to look at the land for which I had fought over the years. When we neared the priory of Mount Grace I saw the place we had fought two battles. Further south I saw Osmotherley where Alan son of Alan had joined my men. The whole of the ride was filled with memories. I knew why I was being both maudlin and melancholy; it was Wulfric’s death which had prompted this. I decided that each day would now be like the first day of a new life and I wanted to remember everything. When we saw, as the sun began to set, the Roman walls of York, I saw that my world was a circle. When I had been a young Earl then Archbishop Thurston had been my mentor. Now I would be a mentor to Roger de Pont L'Évêque, the Archbishop of York. As Alf, now Sir Morgan of Seamer might have said, ‘it was wyrd.’
This time the four of us were found accommodation. Mine was in the palace itself while the other three shared a room in the guard’s hall. The Archbishop and I shared a table when we ate. We were apart from the priests and officials who ate with him. The Archbishop was a careful and precise man. Everything about him was neat, tidy and ordered. “We can speak openly without being overheard.” I nodded. “Becket has heard of the King’s plan to crown his son.”
“That is not a surprise. Knights from across the land will have been summoned to swear allegiance. There will be allies of both the French and the Archbishop amongst their number.”
He smiled, “He has threatened to excommunicate me.”
“Can he do that? I thought that the Pope was the only one with that power.”
Archbishop Roger shrugged, “He can but it does not have the same authority. However, he may have made a mistake for the Pope now wishes this dispute finished. He needs Henry’s support against the Holy Roman Emperor.” He smiled, “The politics of the church are as complicated as those of court.”
I took that information in. “Thomas Becket still expects to return as Archbishop of Canterbury?”
He nodded and cut a tiny morsel of meat which he chewed carefully before wiping his mouth with a napkin. “So it would seem.”
“Then that will be a difficult, not to say unworkable, arrangement. There has been much enmity between the two.”
“It is in their interests for them to make it work.” We ate for a while in silence. “And you, Earl Marshal, when is your work done? You have toiled in this land for as long as I can remember. When I came to this country you were already the most powerful knight in the land.”
“I am like Archbishop Thurston. I will serve my King until I am dead. That is my lot.”
He made the sign of the cross and then cut another tiny piece of food. I hid my smile as I thought of Wulfric. Wulfric would have hacked a huge hunk of meat and filled his mouth with it.
“And you, Archbishop, do you still desire to be Archbishop of Canterbury?” He flashed me a look of surprise. “Come, you were archdeacon to Archbishop Bec along with Becket. You must have ambition.”
He relaxed a little, “I am happy with this see. There is too much politics in Canterbury. This is a backwater in comparison.”
“Then this coronation will be your chance for a little glory.”
He seemed to wish the matter closed. I did not know why. “Perhaps, now let us enjoy the food.”
The food was excellent. His servants, as in most religious places, were male. The difference here was that they were young. They were eager to please. It had been different in Archbishop Thurston’s time. Then the food was functional rather than exotic and the servants had all been priests. It was the same with kings. Each had a different style. I was one of the few who had seen the first Henry. Now the only memory of him would be the events written down in the books written by the priests. According to those books King Henry had died of a surfeit of lampreys. I knew it was poison but I was now the last man alive who knew that. When I died the truth would die with me. The many knights and priests who had committed heinous crimes and were now dead would not be known for their crimes. I wondered if I should get William to write them down for me? It was at that moment that I realised how many secrets I had kept from my son. Perhaps it was the fact that we were so close to the Minster but I felt the need to confess. Wulfric had done so and was unburdened. I would consider it after the coronation and when I was back in my Stockton home.
The next day was spent in making the arrangements for the journey south. My men would be the escort but the Archbishop had his own men he needed to take with him. He had chests which contained his robes and those of the priests who would assist him. My task was a purely practical one. With Simon and my two men at arms we examined the wagons and horses which the Archbishop’s men had chosen to take. It was good that we did. The horses were not the best nor was one of the wagons. I used the Archbishop’s authority to purchase better horses and a new wagon.
My knights arrived the next day. York had not seen the entry of so many banners for many years. My son and his men made a glorious sight. As they headed through the gate which was close to the Minster, crowds gathered. I had almost sneaked in. My banner was with my son. I did not need the attention. I was pleased that the valley knights were accorded such honour and cheers. They were the ones who had defended the north for them. It was my son and his knights who had kept their land safe.
It took eight days to reach London. As the knights who had escorted the Archbishop we were housed in the newly built forebuilding attached to the White Tower itself. Intended for defence it saved my son and his knights the problems of finding rooms in an overcrowded and overpriced London. I was given a room in the royal apartments. As a royal guest I was invited to dine with the King, Queen and three Princes. William Marshal and Archbishop Roger de Pont L'Évêque were also there.
I listened more than I spoke and I learned much. Young Henry and Richard argued throughout the meal. Richard’s view of Becket appeared to have hardened. Henry was still a supporter of the exiled archbishop. The King seemed happy for them to argue. Geoffrey just sat and took it all in. He was the quietest of the three. It was a sullen silence. John was still too young for such events. I saw Eleanor roll her eyes at the arguments but she did not intervene.
William Marshal was seated close to me. He said, quietly, “I take it, Earl Marshal, that you are like me and long to be away from such talk of politics?”
I smiled, “Perhaps but we chose our places at the high table, William. My son is not here for he did not choose this pathway. He eats with the knights of the valley and I would be with them; if I could. My son’s world is simpler than ours. He serves the King and protects the north. We are privy to the King and have to endure the lion’s cubs bickering. It is why I keep silent. The barking means little. That is why the King holds his tongue too.”
He nodded.
I gestured to the young prince, “You know young Henry better than most.”
“He is a fine knight. I know that you were undefeated in the tourney and I am quite successful too. Henry is almost as good as we.”
“That will not aid him much when he is King
. He will have to command armies not handfuls. How does he think? Does he play chess? Does he read?”
“No, Earl. Why, does he need to?”
“I trained his father and when he was the same age as his son King Henry studied Caesar, Alexander the Great, Charlemagne. He asked me about his grandfather’s battles. He studied the past so that he did not make the same mistakes.”
“Then I am remiss. I have been making him a knight.”
“He has the skills of a knight now. I beg you make him a leader.”
“I will try.” As events turned out I think the well-meaning Marshal failed.
The next morning, I was woken by one of King Henry’s pages. “His majesty wishes to speak with you alone, my lord. He is in the Bell Tower.”
The Bell Tower was in the process of being completed. They were building the embrasures and it was at the western end of the outer wall. Ralph had stirred when I was woken. I sent him back to bed. I wrapped a cloak about me for it was early. I hurried through the gate and across the green. Sentries were on the walls and they waved at me. My surcoat was well known. The tower was empty. There was no one working that day. It took me longer to climb the stairs than once it might have. The King was dressed for hunting. He smiled at me, “Time was, Warlord, you would have reached me quicker!”
“We all grow old, King Henry, and then we die.”
His face became serious, “I heard about Wulfric. I am sorry that he died. He was a doughty warrior. I remember, when I was Prince, that, no matter what the odds against us, so long as those two, him and Dick, were there I felt safe.”
I nodded.
He pointed to the stones being prepared. “As you can see I intend to make this a fortress. We have many enemies both at home and abroad. This will be the English Chateau Galliard.”