Alan interjected and said that, to hopefully save time, rather than call Edward’s and Slean’s frithboghs to give evidence as to their oath-worthiness at this time, that Wyman should be called.
After first being reminded of the importance of his oath, Wyman gave a detailed description of how he had beaten Slean with a large stick at the instruction of Alwyn, who had kept on encouraging ‘lay on harder’. Arnaud and Josselin, knowing that they had done nothing untoward themselves, agreed that Wyman had beaten Slean in the presence of themselves and Alwyn but refused to say whether this was at Alwyn’s instruction.
When Alwyn was called to give evidence, he refused to take the oath or to make any declaration, saying that the matter had nothing to do with him. Alan carefully asked a series of questions about what had been said, why Slean had been beaten and why Alwyn had done nothing to prevent this, each of which questions Alwyn refused to answer but which clearly showed the facts of the case.
After the traditional adjournment to the back room, with the ale this time supplemented by food from the tavern, the judges returned. Alan declared Wyman guilty, but declared that the offence had taken place when he felt that he was ‘under the obligation or power of another’. He set the bot compensation at ten shillings, and a further ten shillings fine payable to the king. He also ordered that the money not be payable by Wyman’s frithbogh, but by his lord Alwyn de Bruges, who the court was satisfied had ordered the attack. Alan also enquired as to what had happened to the horse Slean had ridden to St Osyth. Wyman stated that it stood in Alwyn’s stable. Alan ordered its return and a further?2 to be paid by Alwyn to Edward within a month, for unlawful possession of property.
Alan reached over and whispered into Osmund’s ear, “I expect that Wyman will be looking for a new position by tonight. Offer him a place on one of our northern manors, perhaps as assistant-steward. He seems an honest enough man.”
Knowing that he had made two permanent enemies, but not particularly caring because they would anyway have been against him due to their allegiance with Bishop William, Alan declared the case closed, and resumed the usual double-hearing format at each end of the Hall for the standard cases of assault, drunkenness, mayhem and theft that any court has to hear.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LONDON NOVEMBER 1067
In mid November Alan and Anne were back at the house at Holebourn Bridge outside London. Autumn had closed in and the ride south from Colchester had been accomplished in a single day of hard riding in a cold wind, pushing man and beast to exhaustion. Both Anne and Udelle, the single young maid Anne had brought with her, had to be assisted from their horses and into the house.
Aikin and his children, the servants Aidith and Tiw, were delighted to see them, Aikin wanted to conduct an immediate tour of the newly-completed renovations and improvements to the house, and had to be told firmly that the only things his masters were interested in was a warm fire, food and drink, a bath and bed in that order. Aikin had as instructed appointed a new cook, named Wilda. She was a pleasant and stout woman and had moved into Aikin’s chamber in the attic, while Aidith now had her own room also in the attic and Tiw slept in an alcove in the barn. Although the precise date of their arrival had not been previously arranged, Wilda soon had a tasty stew of goat and vegetables ready and served into wooden bowls, accompanied by fresh-baked bread and apples, the latter slightly wrinkled from age despite having been stored a barrel in the cellar. With profuse apologies she promised to obtain better fare for the following day.
Aikin broached a barrel of ale for the men and a jug of mead for the ladies, and they were feeling somewhat more human as they left the Hall for their sleeping quarters.
Next morning they did indeed inspect the repairs and renovations and were more than satisfied, Anne asking Aitkin to have the contractors call around to collect the balance of their payment, subject to the correction of a few small issues.
They next went to the docks where they saw ‘Zeelandt’ and ‘Stormsvale’ drawn up on the mudflats with two men caulking and scraping the hulls. ‘Birgitta’ was over-wintering at Ipswich.
Anne took Alan for his first look at the warehouse on Fish Street, not far from the Bridge. The labourer/guard opened the locks to let them into the dimly-lit building, what light there was coming through several small barred wall openings near the roof. As they walked through the warehouse Alan carried a rush torch and there were scurrying noises in several dark corners. “Looks like I need to get the rat-catcher back,” commented Anne.
“It smells intriguing,” said Alan as he peered about, noting the aromatic smells. He could almost taste the air- pungent, acrid, slightly bitter and persistent. “What have you got here?”
“Uncle Lidmann’s factor runs this part of things, although I think we need our own man now.” She picked up a roughly-bound book off a table. “This will only be his rough copy, but we have tuns of French wine over there. Those barrels are whale-oil from Norway; those are salted herrings; those bales are dried herrings; both of those are also from Norway. Bales of woollen cloth and bales of wool fleece. They’re from Yorkshire, Suffolk and Norfolk,”
She pulled out a pinch of wool and rubbed her fingers as she sniffed the lanolin and continued with her inventory. “Several tons of ingots of tin and copper from Cornwall are stacked over there. We mainly deal in bulk commodities, but over here,” she continued as she led the way to an area with small sacks each of about ten pounds weight, “we have the pepper, spices and so on. Grain of paradise, pepper, saffron, fresh and dried ginger, cinnamon, cumin, nutmeg, mace and allspice. Sugar, dried figs and dates. Almonds. Over there we have barrels of Iberian olive oil in nine gallon firkins. I’d have to check the inventories, but I’d expect that we have a good?1,000 worth of stock here waiting to move elsewhere, which we’ll sell for twice or three times that amount. I’ll arrange for some small quantities to go to both our properties for our own use.”
“How much money do we actually have?” asked Alan with interest.
“I’d need to work it out,” replied his wife. “It changes day to day, but will be reasonably steady at the moment as the ships aren’t sailing- that confuses things as what’s worth?100 in London today will be sold for?300 in Norway next week. At a guess,?3,000 or?4,000, if we take the cargos and commodities at cost, rather than sale prices. Twice that if we assume the ships don’t sink and the cargos are sold in May. We also have over?2,000 in cash, mainly with the Jews but some also on loan to men to help pay their Heriot, secured against the land, so if they don’t pay by next Christmas we receive the land. No interest charged on those loans as we are not allowed to engage in usury,” she concluded regretfully.
Alan blinked, not sure whether to marvel more at the amount or the fact that?1,000 was apparently a matter of unconcern to his wife. Most knights’ wives had to budget down to the penny- and all this had been built up within a year from the proceeds of the Danish ships carrying off booty from the sack of the warehouses at Colchester. It was small wonder that Anne had never complained about the cost of the armed retinue that Alan had gathered.
That evening they invited Bjorn, the captain of the ‘Zeelandt’, for dinner. Despite the day being Friday they ate a variety of meat pies. Anne and Osmund stayed with either fish pie or vegetable pie, but most of the men were eating the veal or beef pies with spiced vegetables. “Delicious,” said Bjorn as he wiped meat gravy from his long red beard with the table-cloth. “I’m glad you don’t go in for that religious fish-eating shite. I saw enough fish by the time I left Norway to last me a lifetime. There’s no other damn thing to eat up there, so you have fish dried, fried, smoked, pickled, roasted, grilled or any other way you can think of- three times a day, every day. I say I had my whole life’s supply of Friday and Wednesday fish by the time I was seven! Give me a nice piece of tasty beef anytime!”