Warlord of the North (2 page)

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Authors: Griff Hosker

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Military, #War, #Historical Fiction

BOOK: Warlord of the North
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"The King or the Queen?"

"Just so, Alfraed, just so."

I sipped my wine.  "I will leave on the morrow."

"I am fortifying York.  King David will discover that this is no juicy morsel to be swallowed with ease.  It will prove most unpalatable I can assure you."

I now understood his position.  My father had taught me that sometimes a leader had to make decisions he did not like for the good of all.  The Archbishop was right. King David and his voracious Scots were taking advantage of the death of the King.  I could not even blame Stephen of Blois. He was taking charge.  I was disappointed that the Empress Matilda had not taken ship and made her own claim to England.  I put the crown from my mind and I vowed to fight King David with every ounce of my being.

We left just after dawn.  I now reconsidered my decision to pay off my men at arms.  It seemed that I might need them.  If I was to fight the whole of Scotland then I would need men at arms no matter how surly they were.

We did not so much ride from York as paddled. Had I not travelled this road more times than enough I would have been lost but we rode, with water up to our horses' withers, along the Roman Road north. My seven companions looked at me as though I was mad but I knew the road. Soon the waters were not as deep and the road was clearer until, ten miles north of York it rose from the waters and directed us home.

I pushed on hoping to reach Yarm before dark.  It was in vain.  The time of year, the weather and the condition of the roads conspired against me. We made it to the small castle of Osmotherley. Baron Ralph ruled here.  It was a small motte and bailey castle.  It was not a rich demesne but Ralph was a good knight.  The walls looked to be bereft of sentries as we approached. The gates remained firmly closed. I crossed the ditch and used the hilt of my sword to bang upon the gate. A fearful face appeared above us. 

"Oh my lord, it is you! I shall let you in.  I am sorry."

I vaguely recognised the face.  He had once been a man at arms and one of Sir Ralph's men.

The gate opened and he bowed, "Alan of Ingleby, my lord.  Sir Ralph left me in command of his castle."

I dismounted and walked Scout into the castle.  My men followed. I pointed to the stables.  "Put the horses in there and meet me in the Great Hall." Great Hall was an exaggeration.  It was a small and mean room above the stables but it would serve.  As I walked across the bailey I asked, "Where is Sir Ralph?"

"His wife and child died of the plague in spring, my lord. He almost drowned in despair and then Father James, convinced him to take the cross and make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.  It seemed to give him hope.  I am old and he asked me and my family to stay here and watch his castle until he returned."

"How many are you?"

"My wife and my two sons, Alan and Alfred."

"We will stay the night.  If you have not enough food then I will understand."

"We have food enough my lord.  My sons are good hunters both.  I will tell my wife that we have guests."

He hurried off.  I went to the hall.  There were two floors above the hall.  The one closest was the baron's quarters. I went there and took off my cloak and surcoat.  Both were wet.  It was not raining but the air was damp. There was no fire.  I shook my head.  I was getting soft.  I was too used to my own castle and the royal residences in which I had stayed.

Gilles came up the stairs with my bag.  "You sleep here tonight, Gilles.  My men can sleep in the stables."

He nodded, "They will not like that, my lord."

"I care not.  They will be warmer there than we will.  The horses will ensure that. See if you can light a fire in the brazier." A brazier, cold and empty, stood in the corner. It was little enough but its glow would give the illusion of warmth.

Alan's two sons helped to get a fire going in the Great Hall and Alan's wife, Ann, brought in mulled ale to warm us up. Despite Gilles' warnings my men at arms seemed happy enough. Alan came to me.  "Is all satisfactory, my lord?"

"It is.  There are few of us.  I would be honoured if your family would eat with us. I have been away from England for some months and I would know what goes on."

"It is we who would be honoured, my lord.  We have all heard of the exploits of the Earl of Cleveland, King Henry's Champion and Knight of the Empress."

"Good." A sudden thought came to me.  "Where do you and your family sleep?"

"We have a hut by the stable." He hesitated, "But I confess when the weather is as it is now we sleep here in the Great Hall."

"Good, then do so this night."

The food was well cooked.  Norman food tasted different from that in England.  I know not if it was my palate, having been brought up in the east, which allowed me to differentiate but I could. Mistress Ann presented fine fare which was well seasoned with herbs.  The lack of pepper and spices showed me that Ralph of Osmotherley was not a rich knight. My men at arms were silent but the conversation around our end of the table was lively as Alan and his family told me of the effects of living without a lord.  Their wariness was explained by the fact that brigands and bands of Scottish raiders plagued the dale. Many farms had been destroyed and the people enslaved. The Archbishop had been looking to heaven when he should have looked closer to home.

By the end of the meal I knew more than I had before we had sat down to eat.  There was worry, not about the next ruler of England, but the threat from the north. That was the people's priority.  A ruler, no matter who it was, would tax them but the Sots would burn, plunder and enslave. When Gilles and I retired I had a mind filled with questions and worries.  I had an even bigger job than I had anticipated.

There had been no wine and I had had too much ale.  I was not drunk but I needed to relieve myself. It was cold as I stepped from the furs under which I was sleeping and made my way to the pot in which I would relieve myself. The cold woke me.  The noise of my water woke Gilles. "My lord?"

"Go back to sleep, Gilles.  I needed to make water."

"And now I need to, my lord."

When I finished I went to the brazier and put on another log. The flames began to lick at the season wood and soon I felt a rush of heat. Perhaps the call of nature would, in the long run, keep us warmer. Gilles was just crawling beneath his fur when I heard a creak on the stairs. I am a warrior and I have senses which others do not have.  I felt the hairs on my neck prickle and Alan's words of Scottish raiders and brigands came to mind.  I drew my sword and hissed, "Gilles, arm yourself."

As he did so I took out my dagger too and moved towards the door. It was suddenly thrown open and two of my men at arms led by Abelard stood there with drawn weapons. Before I could speak Abelard had thrust his sword at my middle.  I wore no mail and he did. I deflected the blade with my own sword and my dagger darted forward to pierce his throat. Warm blood spurted over my hand. I could hear the sounds of combat in the Great Hall but I had two enemies before me.

"Gilles, behind me!"

The two men at arms were no fools and they moved so that they could attack me from two sides at once. My lack of armour gave them the advantage. Kurt, who was on my left, stabbed at me first.  I used my dagger to block his sword and then took the offensive.  I did not wait for Stephan to attack my right.  As I blocked Kurt's sword I stepped forward and spun to bring my sword around.  It cracked into the back of Kurt's mail. It broke a few links but, more importantly, it cracked against his spine. Had he been my only foe it would have ended there but Gilles gave a cry.  "My lord behind you!"

I continued my swing and barely managed to block the sword blow from Stephan with my dagger.  Even so the blade drew blood from my arm. Gilles only had a short sword but he brought it around as hard as he could into the back of Stephan's legs. He wore no chausses and the sword bit into his flesh. As Stephan crumpled I brought my sword from on high and tore into his neck.  I barely had time to bring up my left arm to block Kurt's strike as Stephan bled his life away on the floor.  Emboldened by his first strike Gilles ran at Kurt and buried his short sword in the man at arms' middle. It was a mortal wound.

Below I could hear the sound of combat and I ran from the room. I saw Alan's son, Alfred, lying in a widening pool of blood. Alan of Osmotherley was fending off two attackers with a short sword and the leg of a chair.  Even as I watched Alan was stuck in the arm.  He continued to fight.

I moved down the stairs as quickly as I could taking them two at a time. It was not quick enough.  As one of the men at arms lunged towards Alan of Osmotherley 's unprotected side, his mother, Ann, threw herself between them to take the sword intended for her son. It came all the way through her body. I brought my sword down on the spine of the killer.  I had anger within me and I laid him open to the bone.  Alan of Osmotherley ended the life of the other.  Even as we turned his father, Alan, had his head taken by the last traitor.  Gilles stabbed the man in the thigh.  As the man shouted in pain I slashed my sword across his throat.

It was over.

We stood in silence and looked at each other then Alan of Osmotherley knelt next to his dying mother.  She smiled up at him, a tendril of blood coming from her mouth.  "I brought you into this world.  I am glad that my last act was to save your life." Then her eyes became glazed and she died.

I ran back up the stairs. Kurt still lay with his guts spreading like a pool of worms across his middle.  His eyes opened as I approached, "Who paid you to do this?"

He just stared at me and then said, "We were paid well, Englishman!"

"Who paid you?"

He tried to spit at me but the effort was too much and he coughed instead.  The pain made tears spring into his eyes.

"Tell me and I will ease your passing into the next world. That wound will take many hours to kill you.  I can end your suffering with one blow; one strike across your throat and all pain will be gone."

He remained silent but I saw the pain on his face.  It was too much to bear, "You swear?"

"I have spoken. I am never foresworn."

He nodded and closed his eyes.  "The Earl Gospatric sent money to us.  He wanted you dead before he sacked your castle. The captain of the cog was in on it too.  It is why we put in at York." He winced as pain raced through his body.  "You swore!"

In answer I drew my dagger across his throat.  With a sigh he died. Gilles was behind me. "I killed him!"

"Aye you did and for that I am indebted. Now go and search the bodies downstairs. He said they had been paid well.  Look for coins and rings.  I need evidence of this perfidy." He raced downstairs.  I went to Abelard first.  He had been the leader and it stood to reason that he would have the most gold and coins upon him.  He did.  Amongst the golden coins of King David there were coins from Flanders and from France. I had many enemies. The other two bodies yield similar evidence. I gathered it together and descended.  Alan was still holding his dead mother.

"I am sorry for your loss, Alan son of Alan. I brought death into your home and for that I apologise most sincerely."

He shook his head, "These men were killers, lord.  They were like rabid dogs. At least my father died as a warrior with a sword in his hand but my mother...."

"Your mother died protecting her son.  She would not change the outcome, would she?"

He shook his head.

Gilles held out a handful of coins.  "I have found coins, my lord.  They were well paid."

"Give them to Alan as weregeld for his family."

Alan shook his head, "No my lord.  My payment will be to serve you.  When you came tonight my father said it was a sign.  He wanted Alfred and me to serve you and saw this as a chance to do so. I will honour my father's wishes and follow your banner; if you will have it."

"I will be honoured."

I saw that dawn was not far off.  I for one would not be able to sleep. "Alan, take the armour from these traitor's bodies. You two shall have the best of the six.  Gilles go to the bailey and find wood.  We must burn their bodies else we attract carrion. I will dress and then we shall bury your family, Alan of Osmotherley . From this day forth you shall take the name Alan of Osmotherley and your father will live on through you and your deeds."

By the time the bodies had been stacked on the pyre and the graves dug it was morning. I lit the wood and kindling and the six traitors burned. I did not owe them that.  They had betrayed me and taken innocent lives.  They would rot in hell. We buried Alan's family and covered the graves with stones. Alan of Osmotherley was buried with his sword in his hands.  He had been a warrior and he had died as such.

When that was done I said, "Your new lives begin this day.  I swear that I will protect you whilst I live. You shall be my men and fight at my side." They both nodded. 

"And I will serve you, lord, as my father served Sir. Ralph.  I will become a man at arms."

"Pack the armour on the horses.  Let us leave this place.  We go from a place of danger to a place of death.  We go to find Gospatric and end his life.  It may take time but we shall do this for we are men and we have honour. He has neither honour nor manhood.  A man would have killed me himself.  He hired swords."

We packed the horses and left the castle at Osmotherley to the dead.  Those who lived close by swore that it was haunted and none ever lived there again. Each time we rode south we had to pass it and it was a stark reminder for me. Sir Ralph never returned from the Holy Land and the castle at Osmotherley became a memory only as the wind, the rain and the elements gradually took it apart until just the mound and the ditch remained. The dead remained untouched and the assassins unmourned.

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