is that the poppy juice quickly takes a hold of a man, or woman, and he gets a craving for it that destroys his mind and body. It can only be used for severe pain and then just for a few days, or to relieve the suffering of those who are dying. Talking about priests, Brother Godwine will be visiting us tomorrow and holding Mass in the village church at Terce, an hour or so after sun-up. You’ll hear the bell ringing. I’ll have him come here afterwards and shrive Anne and give her the Sacrament. Your people are welcome to attend the service at the church.”
Next morning Alan was standing in the front row of the small church, which was packed to the rafters with both the villagers and Anne’s people for the weekly Mass. Mass was conducted in the Anglo-Saxon tongue without prayer books or hymnbooks, the mainly illiterate congregation chanting the few responses and the hymns from memory. The semi-literate priest, short and portly with a tonsured head and slightly grubby white vestments, went through the liturgy mechanically and without enthusiasm.
Still not used to a service performed in the vernacular, rather than Latin, Alan missed most of the responses and stood quietly during the hymn singing, while the remainder of the congregation joined in with gusto but little harmony. After taking the sacrament he moved to the back to allow room for the other worshippers and at the conclusion of the service he slipped out to wait for Wulfgar and the rest of the Wivenhoe contingent to emerge.
After grasping forearms with Wulfgar Alan stood and watched as he and his men rode north towards home. Wulfgar had promised to collect the maid Bathilde as they passed through Alresford on the way home. He left behind two male servants and the two maids to look after Anne’s needs, as well as a bundle of clothes.
After conducting Brother Godwine to the Hall to minister to Anne’s spiritual needs, Alan retired to the Solar to sit at the small table that he used as his office and which was covered in piles and rolls of parchment. He studied the demesne accounts and was soon rubbing his eyes from peering in the dim light at the small poorly formed script on the sheets in front of him. As he did so he could hear Anne and Godwine conversing quietly in Latin on the other side of the lath dividing wall.
After Godwine had left Alan put the papers aside with a sigh. He was sure that Kendrick was cheating him, but the coins in the strongbox, normally kept in the bed-chamber but now kept here in the Solar, balanced near enough and he was frustrated that he couldn’t identify any discrepancies in the accounts.
After Brother Godwine had departed back to the rectory Alan went up to share the main meal of the day with Anne shortly after noon. Anne had for several days been on a full diet of roast meats, vegetables, bread and preserved fruits (today pears with fresh cream) washed down with a mediocre red wine that was the best that Alan could purchase at Colchester but which had not travelled well from France. This was followed by nuts and mead. Anne was still not talking to Alan and studiously ignored him as he sat at the table near her bed while she ate from a tray placed on her lap while sitting up in bed.
Alan was distracted and picked at his food instead of eating with his usual gusto. “I couldn’t help but notice that you were speaking in Latin with Brother Godwine, and speaking it a good deal better than he. Do you also read and write?”
Anne replied shortly, “It would be a poor daughter of a merchant who could not read and write, and tally also.”
Alan raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Daughter of a merchant?” he queried.
With a laugh Anne replied, “Yes, Frenchman. Things are different here in England. My father, Orvin, is a wealthy merchant in Ipswich and owns two trading cogs that travel to Scandinavia and Denmark. Here in England they appreciate merchants. A merchant who finances three trading passages overseas is deemed of thegn-rank. My father does that every month! Aelfric seemed to my father a good choice as a husband for me. He was middle aged, wealthy and with a large estate. It was a pity that my father didn’t send anybody down here to ask about him.
“I came at fourteen years of age with a good dowry. He was fat and drank excessively. He had a vicious temperament and a violent temper even when sober. When he was drunk, as he was every night…. The frequent physical beatings were one thing. His taking a different woman to his bed-chamber most nights, with me sleeping by the hall-fire was another, although that at least spared me from matrimonial rape every night. The disgrace I had to face with the members of the household was another. I must admit that I was not devastated with grief when he and his men failed to return from Stamford Bridge. The last four months or so since he left have been a period of grace and I’ve enjoyed starting to exercise some authority for the first time.”
Alan reached across and lightly squeezed Anne’s hand in sympathy.
After a moment he said, “To change the topic, I’ll be leaving shortly with most of the warriors and returning to the forest at Alresford. We intend to take the rest of the outlaws in that forest. Do you want their heads bringing back here for you to inspect?”
With his growing insight into Lady Anne, Alan was not surprised at the fierce answer. “Yes! Kill them all and bring their heads here for me to see!” Alan raised a cup of mead in a silent salute.
Late that afternoon Alan, Hugh, Baldwin and the his now twenty Saxon men-at-arms rode out towards Alresford, together with the archers Roger and Warren and their twenty archer proteges. There they met Alric, Edwold, Aelfric, Godwin, Alstan, Harold, Edward, Leofstan, Withgar, Ketal, Ednoth and Leofson- the senior thegns of the Hundred. Each thegn had brought at least half a dozen men. Alan intended the manhunt the next day to go well and had no intention of waiting until the next Hundred court in two weeks time to mete out justice.
Edwold had questioned all the swine-herders who took their beasts into the forest to eat the fallen acorns, the hunters and the poachers. They had indicated five places as being bases for the outlaws. There were close on 100 men ready to hunt early the next morning.
There was a bright moon shining when the men set out at three in the morning to all be in position at first light. The men wore no armour other than the padded jerkins of the archers. Alan felt that a body of men moving through the forest in full armour would make too much noise and alert their targets. Based on his previous experience of the brigand’s lack of ability with arms and the fact that they expected to achieve total surprise, Alan felt that armour was superfluous.
He had chosen what he felt was one of the more promising locations, which was also one of the closest. It was an abandoned and derelict woodcutter’s hut a little over a mile into the forest and he was shown the way by one of the swine-herders. They arrived well before time and surrounded the hut, although as the swine-herder commented it appeared they were wasting their time as there was no smoke rising from a fire within and no signs of recent habitation. They sat huddled in their cloaks, their breath freezing before their faces in the bitterly cold night.
At first light Alan waved to the ten-strong assault party. They rushed forward and Hugh kicked in the door- although Alan was sure that it would have opened to a more conventional approach. After a few moments Alan slipped his sword back into its scabbard and lit a rush torch to have a look around. Clearly the hut had been used recently by a number of men, but not for the last few days. After a few moments debate with himself he decided not to burn the hut down but leave it there in case the brigands returned at some time in the future. This was one place that they could come back to check again if needed in the future.
They were the first troop back at Alresford, and were sitting close to an open fire in the yard outside the Hall eating a second breakfast of cold meat, fresh bread and cheese washed down with ale when Edwold returned with a coffle of four prisoners chained together at the ankles. These prisoners had been taken at a cave to which Edwold had been directed by a poacher. Edward’s party returned empty-handed, but Alric finally arrived with five prisoners from a rough cabin on the far side of the forest, and told of another three who had been shot down and killed by the archers as they tried to flee.
Alan clasped each of the thegns by the arm. “A job well done!” he enthused. “Nine decorations for your gallows tree, Edwold. After you’ve eaten and drunk, let us give them a quick and fair trial. Then we can hang them and be on the way home by noon. Oh! By the way, I’ll need the heads for Lady Anne. Do you still have the heads from last week? Good!”
The trial was held in the tithe-barn, a door placed horizontally on boxes acting as the judges’ bench. Alan was sitting as Chief-Judge, with all the twelve local thegns present to give judgment. The barn was nearly empty of produce with just a few sacks of grain and bundles of hay sitting on the dirt floor, but was packed with every one of the villagers. The smell of unwashed bodies hit Alan in the face as he walked in and saw the nine prisoners, filthy and in tattered clothing, lined up against the far wall with their hands and ankles manacled.
This was an easy case. The accused had been apprehended living in the forest clearly as outlaws and in each location there had been items that were clearly stolen. Most of the men were already resigned to their fate and
