take and hold, Hugh. Dougal's for you, Robert. Chrétien, Cyneric's lands, when Rufus is done with this campaign."
"Alain, I have told you, I want no such fief."
"Chrétien– "
"You gave your word. I am content as I am."
"You cannot spend your life as a mercenary."
"It is of my choosing."
It was true. He had promised.
The Saxons, to a man, showed puzzled frowns. No doubt they wondered why the lord's second refused that which all men sought. But it was Chrétien's great pain, not his, and so it must be Chrétien who chose who should be told what, and when.
When he had first seen the possibility of settling onto the land instead of wandering about according to the king's whim, he had also begun to hope for the same for his dear friend. But Chrétien still stung from his terrible loss. He would rather face a thousand armed knights alone than run such a risk again. Someday, it might be different. But not now.
"Very well. There will be plenty of land for all."
"If I may suggest, lord," said Gerard.
"Do so."
"The holdings of Anwealda and Dougal are central to this campaign, for Rufus cannot capture Carlisle without going through the Vale of Eden. But Cyneric's is out of the way. It could serve to harbor rebels, but as it guards the Aire Gap, it is a threat now. Wallis could hold it with little effort, for his holding abuts it. Thus, you may keep your second where he is most useful to you, here, and decisions about fiefs could be made later when it is more apparent what land there is to be divided."
"I will think on it. But let us attend to today's affairs today. And tomorrow, Gerard, you will ride forth with Robert and Hugh to Anwealda's holding, and leave Hugh there with his men. You will harry the neighborhood for the knights, but see that the common folk are not terrorized."
"Tomorrow may be too late, Alain," said Robert. "Let us ride today."
"True. Aye. Then, leave when you are ready."
He watched the Saxon and Norman knights file out of the small chamber and listened to their clinking noises and boisterous banter as they hurried down the wooden stairs. They would be busy for the remainder of the day gathering the supplies and heading off to reinforce Anwealda's holding. And he would have a day to learn more about his own demesne.
He was disappointed, in a way. He had hoped they would be excited about his map. But they had merely thought it inaccurate. They all seemed to have clearer concepts in their heads than could ever be drawn on paper. The advantage of the illiterate mind, he supposed, was that it must commit so much more to memory.
He trundled down the stairs after them, out of the hall. In the lower bailey, villeins hauled out carts to supply the new outpost. More villeins struggled with the great stone blocks being winched upward to their place on the curtain wall, while masons waited to set them in their bed of fresh mortar. Wooden scaffolding creaked with their movements. It galled him to see such an enormous effort put into an unacceptable site. He would change it if he could. A simple mound and moat with wooden tower and palisade would be better than this.
The untenable holding to the north was of greater concern. He could build his new motte and bailey there. It could be done in a few weeks, and would provide greater security for Rufus. He resolved to discuss it with Chrétien.
Alain's interest in mottes and baileys was soon distracted by the sight ahead of him of Edyt's braid as it swung at its tip, an accent to her brisk pace. On one hip she carried a willow basket with a great pile of linens as she made for the beck that rushed beside the castle. As she passed the bath house, he came up behind her. Quietly.
"Edyt."
Her arms flung into the air so suddenly that she dropped her basket. Smothering a smirk, he watched benignly as she retrieved linens from the grass and hastily shoved them back atop those that had not spilled. He should feel guilty for his trick, he supposed.
"Aye, lord."
"I
"Alain, I have told you, I want no such fief."
"Chrétien– "
"You gave your word. I am content as I am."
"You cannot spend your life as a mercenary."
"It is of my choosing."
It was true. He had promised.
The Saxons, to a man, showed puzzled frowns. No doubt they wondered why the lord's second refused that which all men sought. But it was Chrétien's great pain, not his, and so it must be Chrétien who chose who should be told what, and when.
When he had first seen the possibility of settling onto the land instead of wandering about according to the king's whim, he had also begun to hope for the same for his dear friend. But Chrétien still stung from his terrible loss. He would rather face a thousand armed knights alone than run such a risk again. Someday, it might be different. But not now.
"Very well. There will be plenty of land for all."
"If I may suggest, lord," said Gerard.
"Do so."
"The holdings of Anwealda and Dougal are central to this campaign, for Rufus cannot capture Carlisle without going through the Vale of Eden. But Cyneric's is out of the way. It could serve to harbor rebels, but as it guards the Aire Gap, it is a threat now. Wallis could hold it with little effort, for his holding abuts it. Thus, you may keep your second where he is most useful to you, here, and decisions about fiefs could be made later when it is more apparent what land there is to be divided."
"I will think on it. But let us attend to today's affairs today. And tomorrow, Gerard, you will ride forth with Robert and Hugh to Anwealda's holding, and leave Hugh there with his men. You will harry the neighborhood for the knights, but see that the common folk are not terrorized."
"Tomorrow may be too late, Alain," said Robert. "Let us ride today."
"True. Aye. Then, leave when you are ready."
He watched the Saxon and Norman knights file out of the small chamber and listened to their clinking noises and boisterous banter as they hurried down the wooden stairs. They would be busy for the remainder of the day gathering the supplies and heading off to reinforce Anwealda's holding. And he would have a day to learn more about his own demesne.
He was disappointed, in a way. He had hoped they would be excited about his map. But they had merely thought it inaccurate. They all seemed to have clearer concepts in their heads than could ever be drawn on paper. The advantage of the illiterate mind, he supposed, was that it must commit so much more to memory.
He trundled down the stairs after them, out of the hall. In the lower bailey, villeins hauled out carts to supply the new outpost. More villeins struggled with the great stone blocks being winched upward to their place on the curtain wall, while masons waited to set them in their bed of fresh mortar. Wooden scaffolding creaked with their movements. It galled him to see such an enormous effort put into an unacceptable site. He would change it if he could. A simple mound and moat with wooden tower and palisade would be better than this.
The untenable holding to the north was of greater concern. He could build his new motte and bailey there. It could be done in a few weeks, and would provide greater security for Rufus. He resolved to discuss it with Chrétien.
Alain's interest in mottes and baileys was soon distracted by the sight ahead of him of Edyt's braid as it swung at its tip, an accent to her brisk pace. On one hip she carried a willow basket with a great pile of linens as she made for the beck that rushed beside the castle. As she passed the bath house, he came up behind her. Quietly.
"Edyt."
Her arms flung into the air so suddenly that she dropped her basket. Smothering a smirk, he watched benignly as she retrieved linens from the grass and hastily shoved them back atop those that had not spilled. He should feel guilty for his trick, he supposed.
"Aye, lord."
"I
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