As Alan had anticipated he and Anne were seated at one of the lesser tables with other minor lords, including the Bigods, William Malet, William de Bernieres and Ivo Taillebois. The high table held the grand lords- de Warenne, de Mandeville, fitzGilbert, fitzOsbern, de Montford, Robert of Mortain, de Grandmesnil, the king’s niece Countess Judith, together with others including the English earls.
Two other Englishmen, Thorkel of Arden the son of Aethelwine the sheriff of Warwickshire, and Edward ‘The Rich’ of Salisbury and the sheriff of Wiltshire, sat at the high table with King William. Thorkel and Edward had kept their distance from the Aetheling’s party all evening and clearly had no wish to be associated with them. The small landholders and hangers-on sat on benches at long trestle tables that had been quickly put up by the servants and which would be taken down again later when the dancing started. Alan noticed his old friend Robert de Aumale sitting amongst the hoi polloi and made a mental note to speak with him before the evening was over.
The meal was a typical Norman feast, beginning with apples, stored in a cool place but still a little wrinkled due to their storage since harvest, and dried dates and figs. Then came the first remove of roast chicken and roast goat kid with cooked vegetables, including lettuce, cabbage, purslane and spinach. Later came the second remove of pork and beef with beet, radish, beans and parsnip. The meal finished with aged cheese and sweet desserts. The repast was taken leisurely and lasted about one and a half hours, with servants bringing bowls of water and linen cloths for the guests at the higher tables to use to clean their hands after each course.
Alan shared a trencher and a cup with Anne, using his knife to prepare her food into bite-sized pieces to allow her to remain neat, delicate and immaculate, and to preserve the cleanliness of her clothing. The wine they drank, well watered, was of reasonable quality. Alan assumed that both the food and drink at the high table was more elaborate than they were receiving, and that the masses below were receiving simple but substantial fare. After all, catering for over 100 guests would not be an easy exercise for Gundred’s cooks.
The conversation and gossip continued to flow, with William fitzOsbern’s appointment as an earl, although currently without any geographical appellation, being discussed favourably. FitzOsbern held large tracts of land in the west and south-west, having been granted much of the land formerly held by the House of Wessex. It was agreed that the intransigence of the citizens of Exeter, not really sufficiently serious to call a rebellion, was most likely the result of the presence in the city of Gytha, the mother of both Harold and to King Edward’s widow, Edith. As Queen Edith was now, after the death of her brothers at Hastings, a staunch supporter of King William, it was agreed that this state of affairs must be deeply embarrassing for her as Exeter was part of her dower lands.
As the guests finished their meal the lesser members of the company were chivvied away from their tables, which were dismantled and removed. The musicians who had been quietly playing lutes, a harp, several flutes, a recorder and a dulcimer, were joined by a drummer and two tambourines.
The hosts William de Warenne and his wife Gundred led the dancers on the floor for a simple processional dance. Alan partnered Anne. This was followed by several circle and line dances, again of relatively simple performance. Next came more complicated line dances, at which point Alan and most of the senior and middle-level Norman lords retired to their tables. This was in turn followed by dances involving pairs, with three or four groups of couples on the dance-floor. The relative paucity of women ensured that Anne and the other ladies were kept busy on the dance-floor, mainly with the younger unattached men who had spent time at court and had learned the social niceties that the older men had missed during their martial training. Some of the dances were processional, some were lively with the dancers singing, clapping their hands and in some cases leaping or hopping.
Alan took time to speak to Thorkel of Arden, an Englishman with substantial land holdings north and south of Coventry, who he found to be a level-headed and intelligent man of about thirty years. Thorkel’s primary concern, like almost all the men in the room, was protecting and expending his lands. Although he had been seated at the table with the Aetheling’s party he had studiously avoided speaking to them and made clear in his discussion with Alan both this distrust and dislike of the young earls. Thorkel had clearly attached himself to the Norman party and had decided that the Aetheling’s party held no benefit or attraction to him.
Robert de Aumale was sitting on a bench far from the high table, sipping a cup of the slightly sour wine provided for the lower-class guests, with a similarly slightly sour expression on his face, when Alan walked up and clasped his shoulder.
“How go things with you, Robert?” he asked. “Have you made your fortune with Geoffrey de Mandeville yet?”
Robert tilted his head as he raised his cup in salute and gave a genuine smile to his friend. “No, not as yet! I’m still accommodated amongst the ‘hangers-on’ with nary a manor in sight.”
“I thought de Mandeville received over 100 manors for his contribution to the invasion,” commented Alan.
Robert snorted in amusement. “Yes, but there were well over 100 knights in the line ahead of me. Not all of us were lucky enough to save the king’s life! There’ll be a few more manors to be handed out in the next few weeks, but I’m so far down de Mandeville’s list of favourites I doubt I’ll see a single acre. I’m thinking about going back to Normandy. There are so many men over here seeking their fortunes that I may be better off back home.”
Alan spent a few minutes asking Robert questions to test his attitude towards the English and found that, unlike most Normans who had a firm dislike of the English, Robert was neutral in his attitude and had taken some steps to learn the basics of the language. As he put it, “You need to at least be able to order a decent meal and drink at a tavern and make sure your horse is being looked after.” Mindful not to make the same mistake he had made in the engagement of Brother Wacian, Alan invited Robert to his house for dinner the next evening at dusk, and provided directions.
Anne spent several rest periods with Alan and the others on his table, and then near midnight she and Alan took their leave and after collecting their escort from the guardroom they walked the short distance to their house. There Anne collapsed tiredly on their bed and fell asleep without even removing her clothes. Alan was never one to miss an opportunity and Anne woke next morning naked and warmly covered by the quilt with Alan asleep curled up into her back. Anne’s gentle but insistent stroking hand soon had Alan awake and hard and they spent an energetic hour or so snug under the covers before rising at midmorning.
Alan and Anne ate a late-morning brunch by the roaring fire in the Hall, warmly dressed against the bitterly cold wind that was blowing that day, which forced itself through every nook and cranny in the building and caused the servants to blow on their hands to warm them as they moved about the house. Usually, in accordance with custom, they ate with the rest of the household but they had risen late, much later the others. Although it was Friday, Alan had instructed the cook Wilda to prepare a brunch of bacon, eggs and sausages, with black pudding- quite different from what the household would be eating that day. Although more religiously observant, Anne made no objection, given the private nature of their meal. Accepting the orders of her husband, she promised herself to say a ‘Hail Mary’ in contrition.
“I’ve asked a friend of mine, Robert de Aumale, from Normandy to come for the evening meal today,” said Alan. “His father, Thibaut, has a manor close to my family at Gauville and we came across together. He’s in Geoffrey de Mandeville’s entourage but isn’t prospering. We were close companions before Hastings. I thought we could use him to administer the manors King William has just given me in Hereford, so I don’t have to spend all my time there chasing after small raiding parties of Welsh hill-men. I’m sure that’s the reason that William gave me those lands was to keep me too busy to cause anybody any trouble! I thought I could appoint Robert Seneschal, and if he proves capable then possibly at a later time enfeoff him with two of the manors.