Wolves in Armour nc-1 Page 12

  Anne gasped as new bindings were applied. “I can hardly breathe!” she complained.

  “Good, I’ve got them tight enough then,” replied Alan laconically. “And that will help keep you quiet”. Anne shot him a look containing daggers. “Now, I’ll need to change the chest bandages every three or four days, mainly for cleanliness. You’ll need them for about three to four weeks. The re-binding of your leg wound stays at once a day, and the stitches will need removal in a couple more days. The weather is better today and I sent a rider early this morning to your manor to let them know where you are and to bring some clothes and a couple of your own servants.”

  “Excellent. I’ll be able to thank you for your help and be off your hands then,” replied Anne eagerly.

  Alan laughed easily. “I’m afraid not. Brother Aldwyn says you’ll have that splint on your leg for at least eight weeks and it’ll be at least four weeks before you can even travel in a cart. Unless you want to walk like a cripple for the rest of your life you’ll just have to put up with our company for a while yet!”

  Just before dark Alan was sitting by the fire in the Hall chatting and drinking ale with some of the local thegns and some of the wealthier freemen when there was a commotion of horses arriving outside. Alan sent his steward Kendrick to see what was amiss, while the Norman sergeant Hugh stirred half a dozen Saxon guards to wakefulness.

  Ten men, four better dressed than the others, and two women were ushered into the Hall by Kendrick- who indicated to the men that they should remove their swords according to custom and place them with the others in a rack near the door. Each visitor was well-rugged up against the cold in cloaks and furs, but their faces were pinched and red from being bitten by the wind. The eldest of the thegns said, “I’m Wulfgar. This is Aelfhare, Aethelwulf and Esmund. Your man tells us that our Lady Anne rests here. We have come, by your leave, to spend the night and take her home on the morrow.”

  Alan leaned across and whispered in the ear of the cheorl Godfrith, with whom he had been dining, “What is it with you English and the elves? Judging by the names, half the male population seems to be related to elves.” He then he spoke up. “I’m Alan, lord of this demesne. My other guests tonight are thegns Eadwold and Brctsi and cheorl Godfrith. Kendrick! Have Lynn provide our guests with mulled ale and food and show them a place by the fire. Welcome you are, but if you wait to take your lady home, you will have a long wait. It’ll be four weeks before she’s fit to travel as she was sore hurt by her encounter in the forest. If a dozen of you stay the month in this Hall I dare say you may wear out your welcome, but I am sure we can find room for the two maids and a couple of men, and that Lady Anne will be pleased to have some of her own folk tend her.”

  Wulfgar frowned as he unclipped his cloak and shook off the dampness before setting it by the fire to dry. “And where is our lady?” he asked, looking around the Hall, barely illuminated by the light of the fire and half a dozen rush torches.

  Alan replied’ “In the bed-chamber.” He received a threatening glance from Wulfgar. “I told you she’s sore hurt and she needs bed-rest. She’s probably asleep by now, but you and the two maids… what are your names? Udelle and Esme? Fine! You may enter and see her to reassure your minds. One of the girls can sit with the lady instead of Synne, whose turn it was tonight.”

  Wulfgar returned a few minutes, quite apologetic. “I’m sorry. We didn’t know how badly she was injured. We thank you for your care of her and indeed for her rescue. What happened?” Alan waited until Wulfgar and the others had taken a seat by the fire and started to eat and drink before he gave an abbreviated version of events. “It’s fortunate you happened along,” said Wulfgar. “These footpads are a curse on the countryside and are worse on the byways now that the Normans at Colchester are regularly patrolling the main roads, forcing the bandits onto the by-ways.”

  “I intend to do something about those in that forest. The bodies of the bandits we killed have been shown about and the local hunters and poachers questioned We think we know who they are, and where may be their several hiding places. I intend to root them out in a few days time and to decorate the hanging-tree at Alresford.”

  Wolfgar nodded his agreement and then changed the subject. “Lady Anne asks if she can have some more of that potion that you have that takes away pain?”

  Alan shook his head. “I’m afraid not. The priests tell us a little pain is good for the soul, but the main reason is that the poppy juice quickly takes a hold of a man, or woman, and he gets a craving for it that destroys his mind and body. It can only be used for severe pain and then just for a few days, or to relieve the suffering of those who are dying. Talking about priests, Brother Godwine will be visiting us tomorrow and holding Mass in the village church at Terce, an hour or so after sun-up. You’ll hear the bell ringing. I’ll have him come here afterwards and shrive Anne and give her the Sacrament. Your people are welcome to attend the service at the church.”

  Next morning Alan was standing in the front row of the small church, which was packed to the rafters with both the villagers and Anne’s people for the weekly Mass. Mass was conducted in the Anglo-Saxon tongue without prayer books or hymnbooks, the mainly illiterate congregation chanting the few responses and the hymns from memory. The semi-literate priest, short and portly with a tonsured head and slightly grubby white vestments, went through the liturgy mechanically and without enthusiasm.

  Still not used to a service performed in the vernacular, rather than Latin, Alan missed most of the responses and stood quietly during the hymn singing, while the remainder of the congregation joined in with gusto but little harmony. After taking the sacrament he moved to the back to allow room for the other worshippers and at the conclusion of the service he slipped out to wait for Wulfgar and the rest of the Wivenhoe contingent to emerge.

  After grasping forearms with Wulfgar Alan stood and watched as he and his men rode north towards home. Wulfgar had promised to collect the maid Bathilde as they passed through Alresford on the way home. He left behind two male servants and the two maids to look after Anne’s needs, as well as a bundle of clothes.

  After conducting Brother Godwine to the Hall to minister to Anne’s spiritual needs, Alan retired to the Solar to sit at the small table that he used as his office and which was covered in piles and rolls of parchment. He studied the demesne accounts and was soon rubbing his eyes from peering in the dim light at the small poorly formed script on the sheets in front of him. As he did so he could hear Anne and Godwine conversing quietly in Latin on the other side of the lath dividing wall.

  After Godwine had left Alan put the papers aside with a sigh. He was sure that Kendrick was cheating him, but the coins in the strongbox, normally kept in the bed-chamber but now kept here in the Solar, balanced near enough and he was frustrated that he couldn’t identify any discrepancies in the accounts.

  After Brother Godwine had departed back to the rectory Alan went up to share the main meal of the day with Anne shortly after noon. Anne had for several days been on a full diet of roast meats, vegetables, bread and preserved fruits (today pears with fresh cream) washed down with a mediocre red wine that was the best that Alan could purchase at Colchester but which had not travelled well from France. This was followed by nuts and mead. Anne was still not talking to Alan and studiously ignored him as he sat at the table near her bed while she ate from a tray placed on her lap while sitting up in bed.

  Alan was distracted and picked at his food instead of eating with his usual gusto. “I couldn’t help but notice that you were speaking in Latin with Brother Godwine, and speaking it a good deal better than he. Do you also read and write?”

  Anne replied shortly, “It would be a poor daughter of a merchant who could not read and write, and tally also.”

  Alan raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Daughter of a merchant?” he queried.

  With a laugh Anne replied, “Yes, Frenchman. Things are different here in England. My father, Orvin, is a wealthy merchant in I
pswich and owns two trading cogs that travel to Scandinavia and Denmark. Here in England they appreciate merchants. A merchant who finances three trading passages overseas is deemed of thegn-rank. My father does that every month! Aelfric seemed to my father a good choice as a husband for me. He was middle aged, wealthy and with a large estate. It was a pity that my father didn’t send anybody down here to ask about him.

  “I came at fourteen years of age with a good dowry. He was fat and drank excessively. He had a vicious temperament and a violent temper even when sober. When he was drunk, as he was every night…. The frequent physical beatings were one thing. His taking a different woman to his bed-chamber most nights, with me sleeping by the hall-fire was another, although that at least spared me from matrimonial rape every night. The disgrace I had to face with the members of the household was another. I must admit that I was not devastated with grief when he and his men failed to return from Stamford Bridge. The last four months or so since he left have been a period of grace and I’ve enjoyed starting to exercise some authority for the first time.”

  Alan reached across and lightly squeezed Anne’s hand in sympathy.

  After a moment he said, “To change the topic, I’ll be leaving shortly with most of the warriors and returning to the forest at Alresford. We intend to take the rest of the outlaws in that forest. Do you want their heads bringing back here for you to inspect?”

  With his growing insight into Lady Anne, Alan was not surprised at the fierce answer. “Yes! Kill them all and bring their heads here for me to see!” Alan raised a cup of mead in a silent salute.

  Late that afternoon Alan, Hugh, Baldwin and the his now twenty Saxon men-at-arms rode out towards Alresford, together with the archers Roger and Warren and their twenty archer proteges. There they met Alric, Edwold, Aelfric, Godwin, Alstan, Harold, Edward, Leofstan, Withgar, Ketal, Ednoth and Leofson- the senior thegns of the Hundred. Each thegn had brought at least half a dozen men. Alan intended the manhunt the next day to go well and had no intention of waiting until the next Hundred court in two weeks time to mete out justice.

  Edwold had questioned all the swine-herders who took their beasts into the forest to eat the fallen acorns, the hunters and the poachers. They had indicated five places as being bases for the outlaws. There were close on 100 men ready to hunt early the next morning.

  There was a bright moon shining when the men set out at three in the morning to all be in position at first light. The men wore no armour other than the padded jerkins of the archers. Alan felt that a body of men moving through the forest in full armour would make too much noise and alert their targets. Based on his previous experience of the brigand’s lack of ability with arms and the fact that they expected to achieve total surprise, Alan felt that armour was superfluous.

  He had chosen what he felt was one of the more promising locations, which was also one of the closest. It was an abandoned and derelict woodcutter’s hut a little over a mile into the forest and he was shown the way by one of the swine-herders. They arrived well before time and surrounded the hut, although as the swine-herder commented it appeared they were wasting their time as there was no smoke rising from a fire within and no signs of recent habitation. They sat huddled in their cloaks, their breath freezing before their faces in the bitterly cold night.

  At first light Alan waved to the ten-strong assault party. They rushed forward and Hugh kicked in the door- although Alan was sure that it would have opened to a more conventional approach. After a few moments Alan slipped his sword back into its scabbard and lit a rush torch to have a look around. Clearly the hut had been used recently by a number of men, but not for the last few days. After a few moments debate with himself he decided not to burn the hut down but leave it there in case the brigands returned at some time in the future. This was one place that they could come back to check again if needed in the future.

  They were the first troop back at Alresford, and were sitting close to an open fire in the yard outside the Hall eating a second breakfast of cold meat, fresh bread and cheese washed down with ale when Edwold returned with a coffle of four prisoners chained together at the ankles. These prisoners had been taken at a cave to which Edwold had been directed by a poacher. Edward’s party returned empty-handed, but Alric finally arrived with five prisoners from a rough cabin on the far side of the forest, and told of another three who had been shot down and killed by the archers as they tried to flee.

  Alan clasped each of the thegns by the arm. “A job well done!” he enthused. “Nine decorations for your gallows tree, Edwold. After you’ve eaten and drunk, let us give them a quick and fair trial. Then we can hang them and be on the way home by noon. Oh! By the way, I’ll need the heads for Lady Anne. Do you still have the heads from last week? Good!”

  The trial was held in the tithe-barn, a door placed horizontally on boxes acting as the judges’ bench. Alan was sitting as Chief-Judge, with all the twelve local thegns present to give judgment. The barn was nearly empty of produce with just a few sacks of grain and bundles of hay sitting on the dirt floor, but was packed with every one of the villagers. The smell of unwashed bodies hit Alan in the face as he walked in and saw the nine prisoners, filthy and in tattered clothing, lined up against the far wall with their hands and ankles manacled.

  This was an easy case. The accused had been apprehended living in the forest clearly as outlaws and in each location there had been items that were clearly stolen. Most of the men were already resigned to their fate and stood apathetically, many failing even to give their names when questioned. Edwold and Alric gave sworn evidence about finding the men, the location of the hideouts and the goods recovered. When asked, none of the accused had any witnesses to call and Alan ruled that in the circumstances none were oath-worthy. One, a small thin boy of about twelve, with a dirty face and lousy torn clothes, was sobbing quietly.

  “You, boy!” demanded Alan gruffly. “What are you doing here with these men?”

  “Please, master,” came the hesitant reply in a thin voice. “My father brought me to the forest when he joined these men before Christmastide.”

  “Which one is he?” asked Alan.

  “He went out and didn’t return a week or so ago, along with a number of other men from our camp. Three returned and said the others had been killed in an attack.”

  “Are those three here?” said Alan continuing the interrogation.

  “Those two,” said the boy pointing. “The other one died this morning when he tried to run away.”

  Alan laughed. “He was good at that, but not good enough this time when we were ready for him! Now did you ever take part in any robbery?”

  “No, master! I was just used as a camp servant,” said the boy.

  “Do any of you others gainsay what the boy has said? No? Well, perhaps you won’t hang with the others, but your case is difficult. You have no kin to give frankpledge on your behalf. The law permits me only to execute, fine or mutilate felons. Now, the twelve ealdormen, how say you on the guilt of the accused?”

  Each of the thegns replied in turn, “Guilty!”

  “Even the boy?” asked Alan.

  All twelve nodded and Alric replied, “Even the boy.”

  “I’m not supposed to pass sentence of death on any person not yet sixteen years of age,” said Alan thoughtfully.

  “Well, that’s why you have your job as judge and I say you’re welcome to it,” replied Alric. “It’s your problem, not mine. You can always just cut off his right hand and tell him to abjure the county.”

  “Excuse me, Sir” said one of the prisoners, who had been looking quietly confident during the proceedings. “May I have a private word with you before you pass sentence?” Alan noted that the man’s voice was somewhat less rustic than the churlish tones of the others and that he was slightly better dressed. “No, but you may speak before sentence is carried out. Now, I sentence each of you, except the boy…” Alan looked at the list in front of him “…Linn… to hang by the neck until dea
d, and to be buried in unconsecrated ground. Those of you who give your names to Edwold may be shriven by the priest. You have twenty minutes to make your peace with God. Now clear the Hall except for the ealdormen, Linn- and I think your name is Pearce, is it not?” The prisoner nodded.

  The barn emptied quickly and Alan said to Pearce, “Speak quickly! You have an appointment with the hangman in a few minutes.”

  Pearce inclined his head. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. This is not just a simple matter of a band of outlaws. Atelic, the leader who you killed last week, was given this area as his own, just as you were given your demesne. You’ve cleaned out the forest for now, but another band will be here within a few months. There’s a man from up Lexden way who is coordinating the outlaws. You’ll have noticed an increase in attacks in your Hundred. In Lexden Hundred they’re already starting to attack and sack villages. I can provide you or the sheriff with information that is well worth my life, and perhaps more.”

  “Edwold, have these two manacled to the wall and set a man as guard. We’ll see the others hang and then discuss this further,” instructed Alan.

  At the edge of the village was an oak tree with a particularly long horizontal branch- the hanging tree. When Alan and the ealdormen walked slowly up to the tree each of the seven men to be executed had a noose about their neck attached to a length of rope. Each stood in turn on a wooden box, which was then kicked away leaving the victim swinging in the air. There was only one box, so the process took some time. The hangman had not done a good job and only two of the seven died of a broken neck. The others hung gasping, legs thrashing as they slowly strangled. The villagers laughed and pointed, and some were taking bets on how long it would take individuals to die. The last took more than 45 minutes.

  “Well, a good day’s hunting!” said Alan to the ealdormen as the crowd dispersed. “Edwold, I have to go to Colchester tomorrow to collect a new hauberk being made for me. Keep the two felons here tonight and I’ll take them to the sheriff tomorrow.”