The Hoodsman - Killing Kings Read online

  When Raynar returned, there was a candle and a ham on the table, and a pile of armour and weapons piled behind it. While he was gone, Hereward had removed all the armour from the Norse and had dragged the bodies upstairs, out of sight of the girl.

  Raynar closed the door and barred it, and sat on the bench beside Bebba, thus across from Hereward. "It is a thunderstorm and it is hailing. A nasty night. Your horse has shelter from the storm in the orchard, but she doesn't like it."

  "Bebba, what are you doing out alone at a place where two armies are circling each other?" asked Raynar as he cut a strip off the ham. He saw that Bebba had no knife so he cut a strip for her as well.

  "The miller and his son did not return to our hide," she was sobbing again, and then stopped, took a deep breath, and began again. "I am trying to catch a husband. Thom is the miller's son and the catch of the village. My Pa would kill me if he knew, but my Ma told me to bed him. We have been, ah, meeting for over a month. "

  "Your Ma set this up?" Hereward asked. "Then has she arranged for witnesses, male witnesses?"

  "I , uh, oh, is that why we were always getting caught? Ma was having them catch us at it."

  "It is an old way and a good way of snaring a good husband," Hereward said "Are you with child yet? Aye, you wouldn't know that yet, after barely a month." He took a good look at her face in the candle light. She was a Danish beauty and would make a fine wife. "Thom wouldn't have you meet him here. This is the most dangerous building along this river. Why did you come?"

  "The miller came to dig up his trove. Thom came to stand watch for him. They didn't return."

  "The miller is dead behind the house," Raynar said quietly.

  "The fool," Hereward grumbled, "they caught him and will now have his trove. They would have tortured it out of him. If he had stayed away they would have never found it."

  She gasped at the word torture "He was getting it so we could all flee south. We got word that York had fallen to the Norse. We are Danes. They will kill us, or make us slaves. The Norse hate us."

  "What would Thom have done if he saw them take his Pa?" asked Hereward.

  "I don't know. I hope he didn't do something foolish and get himself killed. I really do care for Thom." She went silent in thought.

  "Your Ma made the right choice for you, Bebba. If you have a child within nine month and she has male witnesses, then you will be the new miller's wife, and if he is dead with his Pa then you will still have a share in this mill. " Hereward shrugged. "Of course, if there is no child, then you have nothing."

  She started to sob again. "I want Thom. I hope he is alive. I hope he went back to the hide."

  Raynar stroked her gently on the arm. "You will know in the morning." He looked at Hereward. "So where do we go at first light? The Norse were expecting a boat to meet them here to take them across the river. Tonight they were too late and missed it. They expected it back at first light. By the way, is this the River Wharfe?"

  "No, the Ouse" the others said together. Raynar shook his head in wonder at how lost he had been.

  "The fork where the Wharfe begins is around the next bend upstream. This is the first place they could cross to the other side of the Ouse. The Norse control all the land and roads to the north and east of the Ouse. They were a river's breadth away from safety," Hereward explained.

  "Who were they?" she asked.

  "Scouts or spies."

  Raynar pulled his map out of its pipe and unrolled onto the tabletop, using the candle holder to hold down the top of the scroll. He looked at it for a moment and then put his finger on the map. "So we are there."

  "Is this paper?" she asked, touching a curl of the map. "I've never seen paper before."

  Hereward was staring in disbelief. "Raynar Porter, who searches for carts, has a map. You continue to amaze me, boy. What is in these carts, the Holy Grail?" Hereward leaned forward and poured over the symbols on the map. "And the porter's map is better than the ones that my Earl is using to move his army."

  He sat back down and shook his head. "This morning those two Norse spies spotted King Harold's army coming north on Ermyn Street. They punished their horses to take that news to the Norse army. Now that they are dead, Harald of Norway won't know that the king and his professional warriors are already here. He may not know that for a few more days. That could be enough to decide the outcome of this war.

  I was making camp with three good friends, and we saw these spies steal fresh horses, and realized what they were about, and gave chase. " He pointed to the bow on top of the pile of armour. "That bow was almost the death of me. It did for the rest of my friends."

  Raynar's body was aching tired, but he got to his feet and reached over to the bow and brought it back to the table. "I have never seen the like, and I design bows. Where is it from? What is that, horn or bone? Look at the craftsmanship, the different woods and grains, the joins. Where is it from? How could I even begin to make such a bow?"

  "The man who carried it was short with dark hair, dark almond-shaped eyes, and almond-colored skin. His armour is of a type known as Byzantine scale. I would guess the scale is from Syria, where they make steel that is much lighter and stronger than ours, but he was not Syrian.

  The man could ride like he was one with the horse. He made one of his killing shots from under the neck of his horse. I have heard of such warriors but I have never seen one before. But then, I have never been to Constantinople. The King of Norway has been there, though, many times. He used to be a captain of the palace guard in Constantinople, and then a general of the Byzantine army.

  If I were to guess, I would say that this bow hails from the endless grasslands of the Rus. I have been told that those grasslands are like a sea, so vast that no one walks. Not even the women. Everyone has a horse, and the women give birth on horseback." He pointed to the bow. "So what are you going to do with it?"

  "What do you mean?" asked Raynar after a full pause.

  "You killed them, so that bow now belongs to you. And the armour, and the swords. You are a rich porter now, Raynar of Peaks Arse. If they had owned those horses you would own them, too. Too bad for you that they were stolen, and that I know who the owners are.

  No matter. They will not mind you using them, since you are returning them. A warning though, that they are not yours to sell. When we leave here I will retrace my route, and perhaps we will find the horses of my squad, the men that bow killed. You have a strong claim to own those horses."

  Raynar's head was spinning. "Fine, fine, I accept them. But we are going to have some nasty visitors at first light, and I would dearly like to know what you plan to do about it."

  Hereward went silent, thinking. He pulled the map towards him and Raynar gave him a quick explanation of the colored lines. Hereward pointed at the map. "This is us. The fork in the rivers is just upstream. The Ouse to York, and the Wharfe to Tatecastre. The Norse are near York, and their ships are down stream from here, halfway to the sea.

  Harold's army will now be in Tatecastre. Our Northumbrian ships are there too. That is where all the Earls will meet with the King and make plans. All together, there." He pointed. "The fork just upstream from here is vital to both sides. There will be sentries and scouts from all armies at that fork. Each side will have an armed ship close by. Which all means that this mill was a very unhealthy place for us to stop for the night."

  He looked across at the girl. "Bebba, your people need to get south away from the Ouse, and fast. Can you find them in the dark?" asked Hereward.

  "Yes, it is not far, but there is no cartway, just a track," she answered.

  "The candle is almost finished. We should prepare to leave, and then get a bit of sleep until closer to day break." Hereward looked at Raynar. "Are you finished eating? We have some work to do before bed. Come with me but leave the map out." He walked to the stairs. "Bebba, please see if you can make up some comfortable beds. It will be cold tonight, and we are all tired."

  It was grisly work but Rayna
r freed his two arrows from the corpses. Then they dragged the bodies down the stairs and out into the night. "I wasn't thinking straight when I put them upstairs," puffed Hereward. "These bodies always had to disappear, in order to keep the Norse guessing. There is a ditch inland from the house. I almost fell into it when I was sneaking up on this place. We'll throw them into the ditch, and cover them with soil. There, grab that spade."

  Outside the rain had stopped and the sky was clearing, but the wind was still whippy and covered their noises. Once the bodies were covered, they moved carefully towards the barn. Hereward was whispering, "Quietly now, for sound travels far over water. We need to move the horses to the fruit trees behind the house. This barn is too visible from the river. Do you know horses?"

  "I shoed one once, and have ridden a few times, but no, I don't," Raynar admitted.

  Hereward opened one of the barn doors. There were empty sacks drying on a line and he grabbed them all and laid them on the decking of the dock to muffle the hooves. As they led the last animal off the dock, he told Raynar to bring some of the sacks along for the armour.

  Back inside the house, Raynar brought the candle close while he packed the armour and the smaller weapons into the sacks. Everything was finely made. There was a short sword that had seen much use, but the blade was so thin and light that he wondered how it had survived so long.

  The arrows were short, which made sense as the bow was short, but they had heavy points that were formed like a fishing point but with no barbs, and they were squared at the shaft end.

  Hereward was looking over his shoulder and said, "For piercing mail. I prefer a selfbow with standard arrows myself. In battle you need to be able to pick up anyone’s bow and any arrow and keep fighting. That bow is smaller than mine, and yet mine won't pierce armour. It explains how he picked us off so easily. It must have a long range despite its size."

  Raynar pointed proudly to his own bow staff, but Hereward laughed at it and asked, "What the devil is that?"

  Raynar was quick to defend his creation. "I am a porter and a shepherd so mostly I need a staff, but sometimes I need a bow. Don't laugh, for it has pierced armour in practice shots."

  Hereward gauged the boy's pride before he replied. "It may be the best design in the world, but if it is not easy to make, and if it is not easy to use, and if it is not the same as carried by the archer beside you, then it has no place in a battle."

  Raynar was now packing the shiny white shirts that both men had worn, but into his basket pack, not the armour sacks. Hereward reached over and felt the fabric. "Treat those shirts with respect for they are of silk. No woman in England would refuse you, if you paid her with one of those shirts. Not even a noblewoman."

  The candle was guttering. Raynar looked towards the beds and gave Bebba a questioning look. She pointed to the one on the right. He pulled off his layers and crawled under the cloaks. He almost jumped out of the bed again when he felt her skin push in beside him. "I could only make two beds from our cloaks," she explained. "I have had a day of horrors, I do not want to sleep alone. Hold me tight so we can warm each other."

  She did more than get warm. She turned her back to him and wriggled closer until he was spooning her. He wrapped his arms around her and his hands naturally fell into place cupping her breasts. That swelled his cock and it pressed against her bum, but he did not try to enter her, not without her permission. The sound of snoring came from the other bed. She moved her hips and arched her back, and then pushed against him until he was inside her. They cuddled and fucked and slept, and cuddled and fucked and slept until they finally just slept.

  * * * * *

  Raynar woke with a start. He was cold. Her warm body was gone. It was still black in the room, but then the lower floor of this house had no windows. He pulled a cloak up around his shoulders and crept up the stairs.

  From the upstairs windows he could see that it was still a few hours until dawn. The hairy star was high in the sky, the one that Tucker called the Star of Bethlehem, which was a town somewhere to the east of here. It didn't give as much light as the moon, but enough to shine off the ripples in the river.

  He stayed still for a while and let his eyes scan for movement along the river. There was none. He went into the other room and watched the yard from the window. The wind had stopped and there was nothing moving, though he could hear the breathing of the horses in the post-storm calm.

  He went back downstairs. He looked over at the other bed and could just make out a slow rhythm of movement and he heard breaths of low moans. He curled back up in his bed and waited for the inevitable gasp that would mark the end of the rhythms in the other bed. It was a long time coming, and he was irritated by that. After the inevitable gasp of the man, he waited politely for a few moments, then spoke. "We should go."

  He heard light feet scamper across the floor, and then her body squirmed under his cloak.

  "Once more, please," she said.

  He was going to deny her, but his cock would not. Hereward spoke from the other bed. "You have time enough. I will prepare the horses."

  They cuddled and caressed while Hereward shuffled around finding his boots and his clothes. They kissed while he gathered all the gear and carried it to the door. When he went outside to scout the grounds, she rolled Raynar on his back and mounted him. This was to be no gentle cuddlefuck, for she was riding him hard. They were interrupted by Hereward collecting the gear and dragging it out the door. He whispered to them, "Finish up and bring the cloaks with you."

  She whispered in Raynar's ear, "The quickest way is in the sheep position," and she climbed off him and turned around to be on all fours. He banged her hard and fast, and was squirting inside her almost immediately.

  "Good," was all she said as she pushed against him so he would go deeper. While he lay in a dream state, she found her clothes and boots and dressed and then started rolling up the cloaks. He lay back on the bed feeling more tired than when he went to bed. The last thing he packed was the map.

  * * * * *

  They each led a horse away from the mill, with Bebba in front. They did not mount up in the darkness as the two youngsters were not confident with their animals. After about a mile of twisted tracks, they came to a thicket and the track forked around each side of it. She refused to go any further with them. "Keep to the right and across the next field of corn," she pointed, "on the other side is a main track that will take you to the Wharfe. Along the Wharfe there is a bridlepath that is sometimes used for towing ships. It goes to Tatecastre. "

  They started out along the track, and Raynar looked back to wave goodbye but she was already gone. Her family's hide must have been behind that thicket.

  Hereward did not like the boy's silence but it was easy to guess what was causing it. "She came to my bed, but she started in yours. She did me once, but she cared for you all through the night. She knew what she was doing. It was her choice."

  There was still a stony silence from behind, so he stopped and turned and faced Raynar. "You know as much about women as you do about horses. She needed to be with child to have a share in the mill. She was just making sure. We were safe and friendly and gentle and most important, we were leaving in the morning. Besides which, she owed us, and she has paid that debt handsomely. It was all good."

  "I suppose," was all that Raynar replied.

  Hereward turned to the side of the track and undid his flap and had a pee. He looked over his shoulder and said, "You'd better wash your cock in piss. You don't know where she has been."

  They crossed the field of corn and found the larger track, just as Bebba had described it. They followed only as far as the first large tree, the only large tree in sight, and then waited for sunrise. Raynar scrambled quickly and high up the tree and the view around was spectacular. He called down to Hereward to come up.

  Once they were both perched on the highest thick boughs, they could see the thicket where they left the girl. From there, their eyes followed the zigzag track until
they spotted the mill. Downstream from the mill a ways, they could just make out the sleek shape of a ship's hull in the morning mist. That would be Norse. Up stream from the mill they could see the Ouse bearing straight north into the mist and towards York. Unfortunately both the fork in the river, and the Wharfe itself, were obscured by low bush.

  Men were moving along that bush, so that must mark the bridlepath. There was no way of knowing whether the men were English or Norse from this distance. They swung their eyes back to the mill and could see movement in the yard, but it was too far to see who or what it was. Far to the west they could see a tower that must mark Tatecastre. The mist in that direction was more like a dome of dirty fog, and they realized that it must be the smoke of hundreds of small fires.