English Knight by Griff Hosker Page B

me William, how do you make a living?  I know that you are a mason and build churches and cathedrals but do you not have a home of your own?”
    “All my children but William, my eldest, were born in Durham.  We lived there for the best part of four years. I hoped for another three or four years of work. By then William would have been able to assist me and we could have taken on bigger jobs.  I like not working for others such as Robert of Durham.  I have my own ideas of how buildings should be created.”
    “And how long will it take to finish the church and the tower?”
    “The church will not take long; it just needs a stone floor but the tower will take longer.  It depends on how large you wish it to be.”
    “So you will be living with us for some time?”
    “I hope so, sir.  You father seems like a fair master.”
    “He is the fairest man I have ever met and I know that he will treat you and your family well.  He came from humble origins.”
    Harold looked up.  “My father told me that the master had an estate at Coxold.”
    “He did but that was a reward for services to the king. He began his life as a humble soldier and then became a Housecarl. He has never forgotten his roots and the way he was brought up.”
    Suddenly the river was ahead of us.  I had never seen it this far east and it was wide. There were a few huts there; all of them made from wattle and daub. What struck me was the small mound which was adjacent to the river.  I realised it would make the perfect site for a castle.  I reined in and the other two looked at me in surprise.
    “My lord?”
    “I am just looking, Harold, at the hill. William, would this make a good place to site a castle?”
    The mason dismounted and picked up a handful of earth.  He handed his reins to Harold and walked to the river’s edge and then paced back to us. “It would, my lord. The ground is firmer than in Norton.  We would be able to build in stone here.”
    “Good, then when we return we will broach the subject with my father. And now let us introduce ourselves to our people.”
    I suddenly realised I had no markings on my shield.  It was plainly covered with a blue dye on the leather covering.  We had been remiss and I needed a sign sooner rather than later. I needed people to know who we were.  It seemed to me that there were many dishonourable men in these parts.  I needed them to know that I was not one of them.
    There were too few of us to worry the small village and the people came out to see us.  I noticed that there was a smith here.  That was good news.  I saw, too, the sheaf of barley which marked the home of an ale wife. Wulfstan had told me that he dreamed of finding some decent beer when we reached England. He would have his wish here. In the river there were three small boats.  Two of them looked like large fishing ships but the third looked to be capable of carrying cargo.
    I did not dismount but I spoke in English. I was lucky that my father had spoken to me in that language since the day I was born.  It sounded like a foreign language to me but I could speak it fluently.
    “What is the name of this place?”
    “It is Stockton.”
    I nodded, trying to affect the same pose as I thought my father might. “I am Alfraed of Norton and my father, Ridley of Norton has been granted that manor by King Henry.”
    I was disappointed that they did not seem enthusiastic. They began to drift back into their places of work. I began to redden.  I had not dismissed them. “My father will be coming here in a week or so and we will decide upon the taxes that you will have to pay.”
    The blacksmith, obvious by his apron and huge arms, laughed. “The last lord of the manor took our taxes and the Scots took them when they killed him.  Perhaps we should pay them directly to the Scots, sir and save time.”
    “Insolent wretch! We are here to stay and you will give us respect as well as taxes.”
    He did not seem at all put out by my