The Hoodsman - Killing Kings Read online

  The streets were crowded with folk dressed in their best, seeking news, exchanging gossip, and waiting for something momentous to happen. They were already showing their impatience that nothing was happening. Henry had already left the city, riding surrounded by his most loyal councilors. Meanwhile, the rest of 'the manor born' had locked themselves behind their shutters fearing the worst.

  The market was busy, but the sellers of luxury goods did not open. Other than the churches, most large buildings were under close guard, which took the guards off the streets. The men of the town-watch were walking in pairs, doing what they were paid to do ... watching. There were also watchers on top of all towers and high roofs. But there was no trouble. The folk were in high spirits and wanted to celebrate.

  "The king dies and the people are joyous. Should they not be grieving and in black?" Gregos asked in Greek, luckily remembering to say those foreigner words in a quiet voice.

  Raynar could not tell whether Gregos said this in sarcasm or in ignorance. He replied in Greek and in a very low voice, "To the English folk, William Rufus and his inner circle of lords were akin to the plagues and pestilences from the stories of Moses. Of course they rejoice at his death. As a king he was simply continuing the mis-rule of his father, but worse, for his greedy barons were completely out of control."

  "But the lands of the English have been peaceful for a dozen years. The wars have been in Wales and Scotland and Normandy. How is this bad?" Gregos motioned them all to a shade tree where they could stand almost alone.

  Raynar replied, "Three sons inherited from William the Conqueror. Robert, the eldest, was given Normandy. He was never there. His interests were in the rich courts of France, and Rome, and Constantinople. To him, his father's move into England was a move in totally the wrong direction. His dream is to expand the Norman empire to the east along the Mediterranean, you know, as the Byzantine Empire shrinks."

  He stopped talking while two men walked by. "Once Robert's cousins took Naples and Sicily, he used those kingdoms as a stepping stone to eastern riches. And by riches I don't mean just gold, I mean also the learning, and the know how, and the luxuries. In Al-Andalus you have never lost the knowledge of the Greeks and Romans, and so you cannot understand. When Normans such as Robert traveled eastward, they were wonderstruck by what is every day normal in the Byzantine."

  "After less than a fortnight in England, I understand their awe," responded Gregos. "I have never seen a land so filled with poor roads and bad plumbing. Most of the people are still living in mud houses with straw roofs. In this day and age."

  Raynar choked down a response, and instead chose to continue explaining the kings. "William Rufus was the middle son. He was the son most like his father in that he craved warfare and pillage. He was made King of the English. To him, palaces and cathedrals were a waste of money and effort, and all of the people in them were a waste of air. He was a brave warrior but no administrator, and no Christian. The church hated him, because they could not control him, and could not escape his taxes. "

  "He is the one that just died," confirmed Risto who was half listening while watching the thronging crowd for danger. He was, after all, the loyal bodyguard of Gregos.

  Raynar nodded. "Henry was the youngest son. He inherited a great deal of coin, but little land and few titles. Henry has spent his brother's reign fearful of being imprisoned or murdered for his fortune. He stayed free and alive by playing Robert and Rufus one against the other and by being a useful administrator here in Winchester. His brothers were wary of his talent for politics, however, and so they both signed a treaty naming each other as their successors to keep Henry from ever gaining any power."

  "So then Henry has no right to the crown. By treaty it belongs to Robert," observed Gregos.

  "Yes" replied Raynar, "Robert should now be named as king. Unfortunately for Robert, he is not here. He is not even in Normandy. He is in the Holy Land, or perhaps on his way back from the Holy Land. The treaty allowed Robert to live in the Holy Land, while Rufus was allowed to rule Normandy so long as he kept sending huge amounts of coin to finance Robert's grand scheme of using the crusade to expand their empire.

  When Robert first reached the Holy Land, there were tens of thousands of Norman warriors already in the east working as mercenaries for other kings. Rufus sent Robert enormous amounts of coin, and Robert hired and led all those Norman knights to fight for Norman interests, instead of for the interests of foreign kings."

  Gregos was getting impatient and broke in, "So finally we are going to hear why William Two was worse than William One?" Mar spoke no Greek so she had moved away and was chatting to three women at the other side of the shade tree.

  Raynar was keeping an eye on Mar, but he continued, "Gregos, you have studied finance, and money, and have dealt with bankers. When I visited you in Cordoba, were you not the temporary assistant exchequer for the entire Caliphate? Can you not guess?

  No, then let me finish. Rufus needed portable wealth to send to Robert in the east, so he bled England and Normandy of all the gold and silver he could tax, or invent taxes for, or confiscate, or take by violence and murder, or steal from churches, and then sent that coin to Robert. Most of the English gold and silver coins have long since disappeared from England."

  Gregos's eyes went wide in disbelief, but the logic was lost on Risto. "Risto, England’s prosperity since before Knut was ensured based on English silver coins. You could spend English coins in other kingdoms with no problem. Eventually, there were not enough coins left to run England. Either Robert's knights had them in the Holy Land, or the wealthy of England had buried them to hide them from Rufus and his taxes."

  There was a moment of excitement as two couriers on fast horses charged by, slipping and sliding on the cobblestones. The people that had gathered for the market and the gossip dived out of their way. Raynar had heard them coming and had pulled Mar towards the tree without seeming to think about it. "I told you to stay close," he scolded.

  "The hat maker's wife just told me that it was the Hood that killed the king." She pushed him back against the trunk of the tree with surprising force. "Is that true?"

  "It is a likely story, though it would seem more likely that Henry had him killed, before Robert could return from the Holy Land," replied Raynar.

  "I didn't ask you what was likely. I asked you what was true," she persisted. "Tell me the truth, or at least swear to me that John was not involved."

  "John was not involved, I swear it," replied Raynar. "Didn't you hear what the criers are yelling? It was a hunting accident." He could tell by the set of her mouth that she wanted more truth, but then she relented and smiled and called to the Greeks, "Care for a pie or a tart?" At the widening of Risto's eyes, she laughed and told him, "Not that kind of a tart, Risto, you naughty man."

  Before Raynar could stop her, Mar had stepped away from him and was pushing into the market crowd.

  Gregos watched her go. He liked English tarts and smacked his lips in anticipation. He turned back to Raynar. "Money is the grease of a kingdom's axles. Without coins, how do you market, or pay workers, or make business at all? You cannot even go to battle without enough coin to pay the soldiers."

  Raynar answered without taking his eye off Mar. "Most of the soldiers are no longer in England. They have followed the coins to the Holy Land. England has become a land of barter and credits for the swapping of goods and services. Coin has been replaced by promises of goods, or promises of services. If the promises are from someone trustworthy, it is possible to exchange those promises for other goods and services. It has meant that business has become very localized."

  "This is unbelievable," Gregos said thoughtfully. "Country folk can make do without coins because their needs are simple, but the needs of town folk are more complicated, so life in the city rolls along on coins."

  "Ahh, so now you understand" replied Raynar. "From the lack of coins, prosperity in England has wilted. Our prosperity is being exported to the East with th
e coins. Worse, the need for coins for Rufus to send to Robert is neverending so Rufus's reign was one of ever higher or newer taxes. When the taxes did not raise enough there were new confiscations, including the confiscation of the wealth of churches. Lately, his minters have been striking coins that are a poor mix of silver with base metals, and the silver content has become less and less."

  "No, this they must not do!" exclaimed Gregos. "Rufus must have been told that shorting coins is the surest way to ruin."

  A good Englishmen could rant all day about the shortcomings of his government. Raynar decided to cut his rant short. "And that is the short version of why the second William was worse that the first. Imagine, please, what this export of coins means to English folk.

  The Normans do no productive work. Everything they earn is from the backs of the English. Every coin a Norman pays in taxes must be worked for by an Englishman, or be taken away from his wife and bairn. There, I am finished, it is said. Now do you understand why the folk are rejoicing in Rufus's death? Have you noticed how the churches have joined the folk in their rejoicing?"

  With perfect timing, the church bells again began to peel. Raynar heard the clatter of more hoofs so he skipped across into the market to help Mar carry the pies and tarts. He held her next to the stall until the horses were by. "More couriers, in Cornwall's livery, so the rumours are spreading widely and quickly. The nobility all want to know what is happening here at the palace."

  Gregos and Risto eagerly reached to help with the treats. "With the death of the king comes the death of his taxes, yes?" asked Gregos.

  "Yes, which is why Henry is racing to London," replied Raynar "He will have gone to promise an end to sending money to Robert, and an end to the taxes that supplied that money, and an end to the confiscations when those taxes are not paid. With such promises the bishops and all of London will want him crowned quickly, before Robert comes looking for his money."

  Some passersby were looking at them curiously, probably due to the strange sound of Greek on a Winchester street. Raynar switched to English and said in a loud voice, "I was hoping that Henry would be crowned here at Winchester, but I suppose those damned Londoners will crown him while he is there, and thus cheat us of the celebration." This statement put new fire into the gossip rings, and the attention of the curious switched to this latest outrage of the wicked Londoners.

  As they strolled the warm streets with the other folk, waiting for something, anything to happen, Raynar noticed that not everyone was rejoicing. The city's elders were having worried discussions in front of the guild hall. Apparently they saw a darker future for Winchester now that Henry had obviously decided that London should take precedence over Winchester. If Winchester were no longer the crown's center, it would soon become a lesser city, more like Salisbury.

  Also not happy were the circle of Mar's friends and her competitors who sold fine expensive cloth and wares to rich Normans. Today these were the only shops with no paying customers.

  Also not happy were the builders and masons who had been told to barricade their building projects, wind down the mortaring, and otherwise stop work. Meanwhile, at each of the large Norman houses, gates and shutters were barred, barricades were built, walls had lookouts, and every man was armed.

  According to the market gossip, it was the same in the surrounding villages. The Normans were behind barricades and locked within their manors. Since the Normans were not directing the day's work, the serfs were working in their own garden patches, and doing chores that benefited themselves rather than their lords. It was even said that many serfs had left their lord's fields to visit kin or the fetes in other villages.

  Courts were adjourned because the Norman judges stayed at their homes. Prisoners were left unattended and hungry, as the guards were left with no direction and no coin. At the Treasury, the only movement was the arrival of tax collectors.

  Apparently, on the news of the king's death, the collectors had stopped collecting and raced for the safety of the treasuries guards. Raynar wondered how many collectors would disappear with their collections, and of those, how many would disappear into another shire, and how many would disappear into a shallow grave.

  By the afternoon, the gossip was more exciting. No one had yet seen the old king's body. Was he really dead? If he was dead, then was it a hunting accident as the criers were saying, or was it murder? And if it was murder, then who was the murderer. Was it an agent of the Welsh, or of the French or of the Danes, or of one of Rufus's brothers?

  Most of the common folk were hoping that the original rumour was true, and that the Hood had done for him, as they had done for so many other Norman turds in the past. Everybody was having a wonderful time speculating about something that no one could know for sure.

  Couriers on swift horses had been coming and going from the city, spreading the news, spreading orders, asking for orders, and carrying promises to and from all the castles, forts, fortified manors, and to ships as well. Occasionally, small cavalcades of well-dressed riders trotted off towards London.

  As the heat of the day built, the groups of gossipers started to drift apart. The folk had realized that nothing was going to happen soon, and their stomachs were leading them home. Gregos and Risto had been sitting on a low wall in the shade watching the market folk and chatting to each other.

  Mar seemed to be known by everyone in town and was constantly drawn away into conversations. Raynar leaned against a tree chewing on a long stalk of grass and looked relaxed, but his eyes were alert and he watched everyone who approached them with a suspicious eye. The crowds were thinning more quickly and his small group now seemed more and more conspicuous as the streets emptied. Just after yet another courier raced towards the palace, he herded Mar and his two wards back towards the house.

  The world had changed and Raynar wanted to scream to the world that it was his doing, but he could not even whisper the truth to Mar, one of his oldest friends. Such a truth might put both of them at risk.

  Gregos made a decision that afternoon. They would leave Winchester as soon as Mar's husband John returned home. They would leave most of their belongings with Mar and travel lightly, and dressed as English merchants. They would first go to London and from there travel to the North to buy and ship sheep.

  No one was surprised by his decision. Even if the main reason he gave for his trip to England was to export breeding stock, and even if he was traveling as a merchant, and not an emissary, they all suspected that everything he saw and heard in England would be described in detail to his Caliph on his return to Cordoba.

  Raynar spent the rest of the afternoon trying to arrange the rental of horses to take them as far as London Bridge. He returned from his task hot and frustrated. "There are no horses to rent, buy, borrow, or steal. They are all carrying Norman riders to London as we speak. One smith did say that if we could make our own way the first fifteen miles to Basingestoches, that there we would find horses."

  Gregos feigned shock. "You mean walk for fifteen miles, a man of my age and stature?"

  Mar took his complaint seriously and was about to leave to ask her neighbors for the loan of a horse cart, before Gregos convinced her that his words were a form of humor and that walking was, indeed, the best solution. Otherwise her neighbour would have to travel back alone, and that would put him at risk.

  With the decision made, Mar pulled all three of the men out with her into the street, and marched them to the market where she proved her skill in bargaining for the clothing that would make them invisible amongst other English merchants. She included three plain but rugged travel cloaks, similar to Raynar's forest cloak but of finer wool, and new. "One of my carters will enjoy your old cloak," she told Raynar before he could speak.

  When Gregos reached for his purse she pushed his hand back and said, "No, pay me at home. I paid for these on John's barter account. An account that has been due to us for months now." Gregos remembered his earlier lesson on the shortage of coins and nodded his under
standing.

  Risto spent the late afternoon separating their gear into "go" and "stay" piles on their pallets in the back room. Gregos then made the "go" pile even smaller. Meanwhile Raynar built two triangle backpack frames similar to his own. They were simple but effective. Just three bowed but strong sticks lashed together at the three corners, and three soft cloth belts, one for each shoulder, and one to rest the bottom of the frame across the hips. He then showed Risto how to lash his bag to them and how to adjust them for ease of carry.

  Risto, unfortunately, was no ordinary bodyguard hired by Gregos. In the Caliphate he was a renown swordsman, and now Raynar had the unpleasant duty to tell him that his Salamancan sword could not go with them. It was so different from Norman and English swords that it would bring unwanted attention to them. It was long and narrow and sharpened on one side only. Had an English sword been so narrow it would shatter in battle, but the steel in this sword was stronger and yet more flexible than any local steel.