“You managed to get a couple of voyages in to Aquitaine before the autumn,” said Alan. “That’s a long way, and I understand a difficult journey. How did things go?”
“Yes, we managed two trips between August and early October, when I called it quits. The Bay of Biscay can be a bit difficult in late autumn and winter. Storms come up out of nowhere. It’d be easier if we only sailed to Nantes instead of all the way to Bordeaux. If you know what you are doing the coastline is easy enough once you get to Brittany and the Biscay coast- there’s plenty of places to take shelter if you’re paying attention to the weather signs. The Factor is going to arrange to start to haul spices and other items from Iberia. The Moors get them from North Africa much cheaper than you can get them from the via the Venetians Levant.”
“Any problems from pirates?” asked Anne.
“Only the first time,” said Bjorn complaisantly. On being pressed he continued, “We were rounding Pointe St-Mathieu. Two ships came out from Brest and started to follow us. I let them catch up and hoisted a flag, black with a white diagonal cross, so they can recognise us next time- that’s only fair. The sea was a bit lumpy, a swell about twice as high as a man is tall, so I let them get quite close. Then I used your ballista. It worked just as you said. We took three shots to hit them and then all hell broke loose. The first ship burnt to the waterline in a couple of minutes and I left them with the second ship picking up those few who could swim. I don’t expect to have any problems again, which will be a pity as it livened up an otherwise boring voyage.”
Alan was smiling broadly at the laconic and understated delivery and promised himself the opportunity to talk in more detail in the future.
“And what would have been your most interesting journey?” asked Osmund with interest.
“Ah! That would have been when I was a lad, about eighteen, young and foolish. I joined Knut Sweinsson. Three longboats. Finland. To the Niva. Lake Ladoga. The Volkhov River. Novogrod. The Volga. Astrakan. The Caspian. Constantinople. The Levant. Greece. Iberia. Back home. The voyage took three years. We brought back a shit-load of treasure- the boat was nearly sinking from the weight of the gold and silver. Porting the boats overland was shit,” replied Bjorn.
Alan gave a laugh that such an epic voyage could be dismissed in so few words and spent the rest of the evening wheedling the details out of Bjorn’s capacious memory. He suggested that Osmund and Bjorn spend a few days together to record what was clearly an outstanding achievement.
King William sighed and sat back in his chair, tapping on the table a roll of parchment which was tied with a red ribbon. A pile of other parchment rolls occupied part of the table. Chancellor Regenbald and a French scribe sat at the ends of the table with Alan sitting facing the king. “You seem to have managed to have infuriated just about everybody you have come across, except Regenbald here who speaks in your favour.”
Alan frowned and said, “That’s a little unfair. I’ve come across a lot people since last I saw you eleven months ago, and most of them haven’t complained!” It was Monday the 10th of December and they were at the palace at Westminster. William had returned to England four days previously and Alan and Anne had been at their newly refurbished house at Holebourn Bridge outside London when he arrived.
“Accusing royal officers of corruption, including the earl of your own shire. Spreading dissent by seeking out those with grievances, not only in your own shire but also in Suffolk. Abusing your position of Chief Judge of the Hundred court. Illegally fining a Norman landholder for the actions of his servant. Threatening another that you would cut off the stream that feeds his fishery. And castrating and putting out the eyes of the Norman servant of a Norman lord. You almost seem to be at war with your own people. Oh, and creating a miraculous victory against a raiding Danish army, calling on God to destroy them with fire and raising your own private army! I believe that they call you ‘the king of Tendring Hundred’. Let me assure you that Tendring and the rest of England only has one king,” said William ominously.
Alan laughed long and loud, slapping the table in his mirth, with William raising an eyebrow as if he did not see the allegations as being grounds for humour.
“I see Bishop William and Earl Ralph, and possibly fitzWymarc and Engelric, have been in your ear already, although I think Engelric too clever to overstate his case,” he said. “The fact is that all four men have been raping your kingdom while you’ve been gone- along with many others. Obtaining money for the royal treasury under your instructions is one thing. Unlawfully enriching themselves at the expense of the people, and you, is another. These depositions show just some of their actions, from men and women strong enough to stand and say nay and appeal to you. I’m sure that they have all been resolved as administrative mistakes by now, Chancellor Regenbald?” asked Alan.
Regenbald nodded and said, “Apart from a few cases of junior officers either exceeding their authority or acting for their own benefit.”
Alan gave a sarcastic laugh. “The extent to which you wish to review the decision regarding the Redemption Relief by the various officers in your shires is up to you, Sire, but they have been receiving nearly as much money as you have.” Deciding to take the bull by the horns Alan continued, “William fitzOsbern has done a good job, while much beset by problems with the Welsh. Your other half-brother Odo has been having problems in Kent largely as a result of his own thievery and the theft of property, including church property. In the circumstances, who did you expect me or anybody else in the kingdom to complain to?
“What next? The decisions of the Hundred court? The transcripts were forwarded to Regenbald and I am happy to abide by whatever you decide after reading them. Confessions in court by those accused. The fact that the servant died after being blinded and castrated wasn’t my fault. I had him returned to his lord to be cared for. Is it my fault that he was then thrown out on the street and bled to death? All proper procedures were followed and the sentences were according to law. The fact that Bishop William and his men and their servants believe themselves above the law is not my fault.
“Winning a victory against the Danish raiders? I would have thought that a matter for congratulation rather than condemnation. They’d ravaged part of Lexden Hundred and I suppose I was supposed to let them do the same with Tendring Hundred while the sheriff sat safe and snug in his city walls and did nothing? Yes, I called out the fyrd. No, I had no authority to do so. I was the man on the ground, having to make the hard decisions. You’ve been there and done that yourself. Sometimes a decision must be made within minutes. That’s what you and I have been trained to do. I made a decision that really was not mine to make. The men came as called and we took the Danes by surprise and ‘kicked arse’. Having God ‘rain fires from the sky’! How many bishops did you have at Hastings? If they, and the pope, can’t get that to happen, what chance do I? Absolute rubbish! I did have some onagers to throw some rocks on their heads,” said Alan with less than honesty, bending the truth almost beyond recognition.
“Onagers?” asked William.
“Yes, I have four now, and a few ballistae,” replied Alan.
“I’ll have to make sure you are at my next siege!” commented William.
“It’s all nothing new. It’s all in the books the Romans wrote 500 years or so ago. No real changes since then, except that the cataphracts are now called knights and don’t have bows. You’ve learned your history and that tells you what to do now. I just apply what other people learned in the past. If you don’t have copies already, I can send you copies of the works of Vegetius’ Epitoma rei militaris.”