Nottingham and Lincoln. Four or five days at each place and then to Leicester, Litchfield and on to Shrewsbury.
“At Shrewsbury fitzOsbern will start his spring campaign against the Welsh Prince Bleddyn of Gwynedd and Eadric ‘the Wild’, who’ve been harassing Herefordshire during the winter. I gather the Welsh have been doing the same for years against the Saxons. They’ll find that we’re made of a different metal! Now what forces do you have, fitzWymarc? A squadron of ten mounted men-at-arms, excellent. de Gauville? Six including yourself? Englishmen you say? Well, we all know that Englishmen can’t fight on horseback. These can? Well, we’ll see. I’ll allocate you to Ivo Taillebois who’s in charge of our scouts. That’s him over there. Now if you men will excuse me, there are some other people I must see.”
After giving fitzWymarc a clap on the shoulder by way of farewell, Alan made his way over to Ivo Taillebois who was sitting at a table with several others. “de Gauville you say? Never heard of you! Five Englishmen who you say can fight on horseback? I’ll classify you as light cavalry and you can scout on our right flank. FitzOsbern has a party of 500 at the moment, which should be enough to impress the natives without causing undue damage as we move around.
“Now I want this quite clear, de Gauville, fitzOsbern has said that we are the party of a king’s officer who is moving through the land representing the king. We are not a conquering army burning a swathe twenty miles wide as we did last year. No robbery. No pillaging. No rape. No violence unless you have to. Watch for movement on our flank and report back if you see anything. I want to maintain a three-mile scouting distance, and I want to know if a hare so much as farts within that area. When we advance your men will be covering an area one and a half miles wide. When we camp, you’ll cover three miles of the circle. I have eight scouting squads and six will be out in the field at any one time. When we march, the other two squads will form an advance-scouting and rear-scouting party. I’ll keep you out in the field all day every day, but since we’ve enough men I’ll release your men at Leicester on the way to Wales and you can go home before the serious work begins.”
“Don’t you think it’s passing strange that the king has returned to Normandy last month?” asked Alan.
Taillebois gave a shrug. “Things are pretty quiet here in England at the moment and William has left two trusted men in charge, his cousin William fizOsbern and his half-brother Odo of Bayeux. He’s not stupid- he’s taken with him all the Englishmen who could possibly cause any problems. Edgar the Aetheling, the earls Edwin, Morcar and Waltheof, Archbishop Stigand and Aethelnoth the abbot of Glastonbury, and hostages from every important town and city. Odo has been left in charge of England south of the Thames and fitzOsbern from north of the Thames to the border with Mercia. We’ve been told to stay out of Mercia and Northumbria, the Danelands. William has won a good victory and is entitled to ponce about in Normandy showing Philip of France and Fulk of Anjou that he’s better than them!”
Alan was sure that the allocation of his men to the screening force and their dismissal before the expedition to Wales was because the steadiness and reliability of his men in battle wasn’t trusted, but as he would return home early he made no complaint. “Who do I see about quarters and supplies?” he asked.
Ivo laughed. “Quarters are wherever you can find them. You can sleep in the Hall with us, your men probably with their horses. The commissary is the red tent down near the river. Now, I expect to only see you if there are any problems!”
Down at the commissary tent Alan, accompanied by Edric, was soon listening to a tale of woe by the commissary sergeant, a fat and oily individual made to look even less trustworthy by having a squint. There was no food available. The town delivered food for the men each morning, but it was always short of quota. All he could offer was a sack of beans and a leg of ham that was suspiciously green, but he did have a firkin of beer. Alan took the beans and beer and left the ham.
As they walked back up the hill Alan commented, “I’ll bet that half the food and drink Cambridge provides each morning is back in the market by mid-day.” Edric grunted his agreement, trying to steer a straight course as he rolled the nine-gallon barrel along. Alan had the twenty-pound sack of beans over his shoulder.
Meeting up with the rest of the party they explained the situation. Alfward and Ledmer told the others to stay where they were and disappeared into the milling crowd of the castle. What Alan had overlooked was that, whatever the Normans thought, it was actually the English who ran the castle. Ledmer returned after a few minutes with a youngish man called Bertwold who ran the stables, theoretically under the supervision of a Norman. He was more than happy, on being politely asked, to make stable space, hay and oats available for eight horses and for the squad to join him and his fellow geburs in sleeping in the hayloft.
Shortly after they arrived in the hayloft Alfward appeared, followed by a very comely serving-wench carrying a large tray of food that, before it was intercepted on their behalf by the kitchen staff, had been intended for consumption in the Hall. After making their delivery, as Alfred and the girl turned to leave- Alfred with his hand firmly on the unprotesting girl’s bottom- he gave Alan a wink and said that he would be back in the morning with breakfast and they shouldn’t wait up for him.
As darkness fell Bertwold and his fellow-stable hands returned and the firkin of beer was manoeuvred up into the loft. Bertwold and his half dozen men brought their own food rations up into the loft and a convivial evening was had, aided by the consumption of several quarts of beer each- Alan wanted the firkin to also last for the next day- and the girlfriends of several of the stable-boys sneaking upstairs in the dark.
Finding a party in progress in the darkness the girls left to return with several more female friends. Alan never knew the name, or saw the face, of the young woman he coupled with that night. No lantern was permitted in the hayloft and anyway the English were adverse to advertise they were having an enjoyable evening. They kept the noise down to conversation and an occasional quiet song, just enjoying the simple conviviality of togetherness. When he woke the girl had uncurled herself from his arms and disappeared in the pre-dawn dark to go about her domestic duties.
Feeling somewhat more content, Alan and his men attended the first Mass at Terce. There were no palm crosses to be handed out, but each received the Host and was anointed with a cross of chrism on their forehead before they rode off to the northwest. Today they were wearing armour but not carrying lances. On reaching the village of Girton, after a brief visit to the thegn and the suggestion he visit Cambridge that day to make his submission to fitzOsbern, they proceeded west to Impington and Fen Ditton, also visiting the manor houses at each village, and covered a distance of about six miles by lunchtime. Provided with an ample mid-day meal and hospitality by the steward at Fen Ditton, they then retraced their steps back to Girton in the afternoon before returning to Cambridge. Clearly there was no large and dangerous force currently gathered to attack on the right flank of the army.
They arrived back just before dark and Alfward disappeared off to the kitchens as Bertwold and his men took charge of the horses while Alan and the others dismounted stiffly and stretched their legs before proceeding to remove their armour and then to quickly wash the day’s sweat away at a horse-trough.
Word seemed to have spread since last night, and Alfward reappeared with his wench, named Eanfled, and three other female kitchen scullery staff all bearing trays of food, two buttery staff, one male and one female, with mead and ale and another half a dozen hangers-on. That night there were probably thirty people in the hayloft, eating, drinking, talking or singing quietly and enjoying companionship. This time in the dark Alan had two young sweet-smelling women cuddling up to him, one on either side. In the dark Alan was a little confused about which woman to approach, but with their caresses and nimble hands they soon sorted that out themselves, and each took their turn several times.
A few days later they were at Coventry when Alan’s men were caught by a particularly severe and cold storm while at the east end of their patrol beat, near the village of Walsgrave-on-Stowe. Certain that the flank was secure and that no enemy army was bearing down on them, they took refuge in the Hall of the young local thegn named Manwine. Over a convivial mid-day meal Manwine mentioned that the village was having problems with a troublesome pack of wolves located nearby in the forest, with sheep and swine disappearing on a regular basis. The hunters were reasonably sure that they had located the lair but their traps and stake-outs had provided no success.
Alan promised that they would look into it when, God willing, they returned the following day, and asked for two freshly-killed deer to be available when he returned. The storm lessened somewhat during the afternoon and as they rode back to Coventry along the path through the forest Alan kept disappearing into the forest, until he returned at last with a large clump of roots that he handled with hands wrapped in cloth.
Arriving back at Coventry Alan visited the local apothecary and found his efforts had been unneeded. Instead of preparing his own distillation of monkshood, he bought, in return for two shillings and the exchange of the roots
