small issues.
They next went to the docks where they saw ‘Zeelandt’ and ‘Stormsvale’ drawn up on the mudflats with two men caulking and scraping the hulls. ‘Birgitta’ was over-wintering at Ipswich.
Anne took Alan for his first look at the warehouse on Fish Street, not far from the Bridge. The labourer/guard opened the locks to let them into the dimly-lit building, what light there was coming through several small barred wall openings near the roof. As they walked through the warehouse Alan carried a rush torch and there were scurrying noises in several dark corners. “Looks like I need to get the rat-catcher back,” commented Anne.
“It smells intriguing,” said Alan as he peered about, noting the aromatic smells. He could almost taste the air- pungent, acrid, slightly bitter and persistent. “What have you got here?”
“Uncle Lidmann’s factor runs this part of things, although I think we need our own man now.” She picked up a roughly-bound book off a table. “This will only be his rough copy, but we have tuns of French wine over there. Those barrels are whale-oil from Norway; those are salted herrings; those bales are dried herrings; both of those are also from Norway. Bales of woollen cloth and bales of wool fleece. They’re from Yorkshire, Suffolk and Norfolk,”
She pulled out a pinch of wool and rubbed her fingers as she sniffed the lanolin and continued with her inventory. “Several tons of ingots of tin and copper from Cornwall are stacked over there. We mainly deal in bulk commodities, but over here,” she continued as she led the way to an area with small sacks each of about ten pounds weight, “we have the pepper, spices and so on. Grain of paradise, pepper, saffron, fresh and dried ginger, cinnamon, cumin, nutmeg, mace and allspice. Sugar, dried figs and dates. Almonds. Over there we have barrels of Iberian olive oil in nine gallon firkins. I’d have to check the inventories, but I’d expect that we have a good?1,000 worth of stock here waiting to move elsewhere, which we’ll sell for twice or three times that amount. I’ll arrange for some small quantities to go to both our properties for our own use.”
“How much money do we actually have?” asked Alan with interest.
“I’d need to work it out,” replied his wife. “It changes day to day, but will be reasonably steady at the moment as the ships aren’t sailing- that confuses things as what’s worth?100 in London today will be sold for?300 in Norway next week. At a guess,?3,000 or?4,000, if we take the cargos and commodities at cost, rather than sale prices. Twice that if we assume the ships don’t sink and the cargos are sold in May. We also have over?2,000 in cash, mainly with the Jews but some also on loan to men to help pay their Heriot, secured against the land, so if they don’t pay by next Christmas we receive the land. No interest charged on those loans as we are not allowed to engage in usury,” she concluded regretfully.
Alan blinked, not sure whether to marvel more at the amount or the fact that?1,000 was apparently a matter of unconcern to his wife. Most knights’ wives had to budget down to the penny- and all this had been built up within a year from the proceeds of the Danish ships carrying off booty from the sack of the warehouses at Colchester. It was small wonder that Anne had never complained about the cost of the armed retinue that Alan had gathered.
That evening they invited Bjorn, the captain of the ‘Zeelandt’, for dinner. Despite the day being Friday they ate a variety of meat pies. Anne and Osmund stayed with either fish pie or vegetable pie, but most of the men were eating the veal or beef pies with spiced vegetables. “Delicious,” said Bjorn as he wiped meat gravy from his long red beard with the table-cloth. “I’m glad you don’t go in for that religious fish-eating shite. I saw enough fish by the time I left Norway to last me a lifetime. There’s no other damn thing to eat up there, so you have fish dried, fried, smoked, pickled, roasted, grilled or any other way you can think of- three times a day, every day. I say I had my whole life’s supply of Friday and Wednesday fish by the time I was seven! Give me a nice piece of tasty beef anytime!”
“You managed to get a couple of voyages in to Aquitaine before the autumn,” said Alan. “That’s a long way, and I understand a difficult journey. How did things go?”
“Yes, we managed two trips between August and early October, when I called it quits. The Bay of Biscay can be a bit difficult in late autumn and winter. Storms come up out of nowhere. It’d be easier if we only sailed to Nantes instead of all the way to Bordeaux. If you know what you are doing the coastline is easy enough once you get to Brittany and the Biscay coast- there’s plenty of places to take shelter if you’re paying attention to the weather signs. The Factor is going to arrange to start to haul spices and other items from Iberia. The Moors get them from North Africa much cheaper than you can get them from the via the Venetians Levant.”
“Any problems from pirates?” asked Anne.
“Only the first time,” said Bjorn complaisantly. On being pressed he continued, “We were rounding Pointe St-Mathieu. Two ships came out from Brest and started to follow us. I let them catch up and hoisted a flag, black with a white diagonal cross, so they can recognise us next time- that’s only fair. The sea was a bit lumpy, a swell about twice as high as a man is tall, so I let them get quite close. Then I used your ballista. It worked just as you said. We took three shots to hit them and then all hell broke loose. The first ship burnt to the waterline in a couple of minutes and I left them with the second ship picking up those few who could swim. I don’t expect to have any problems again, which will be a pity as it livened up an otherwise boring voyage.”
Alan was smiling broadly at the laconic and understated delivery and promised himself the opportunity to talk in more detail in the future.
“And what would have been your most interesting journey?” asked Osmund with interest.
“Ah! That would have been when I was a lad, about eighteen, young and foolish. I joined Knut Sweinsson. Three longboats. Finland. To the Niva. Lake Ladoga. The Volkhov River. Novogrod. The Volga. Astrakan. The Caspian. Constantinople. The Levant. Greece. Iberia. Back home. The voyage took three years. We brought back a shit-load of treasure- the boat was nearly sinking from the weight of the gold and silver. Porting the boats overland was shit,” replied Bjorn.
Alan gave a laugh that such an epic voyage could be dismissed in so few words and spent the rest of the evening wheedling the details out of Bjorn’s capacious memory. He suggested that Osmund and Bjorn spend a few days together to record what was clearly an outstanding achievement.
King William sighed and sat back in his chair, tapping on the table a roll of parchment which was tied with a red ribbon. A pile of other parchment rolls occupied part of the table. Chancellor Regenbald and a French scribe sat at the ends of the table with Alan sitting facing the king. “You seem to have managed to have infuriated just about everybody you have come across, except Regenbald here who speaks in your favour.”
Alan frowned and said, “That’s a little unfair. I’ve come across a lot people since last I saw you eleven months ago, and most of them haven’t complained!” It was Monday the 10th of December and they were at the palace at Westminster. William had returned to England four days previously and Alan and Anne had been at their newly refurbished house at Holebourn Bridge outside London when he arrived.
“Accusing royal officers of corruption, including the earl of your own shire. Spreading dissent by seeking out those with grievances, not only in your own shire but also in Suffolk. Abusing your position of Chief Judge of the Hundred court. Illegally fining a Norman landholder for the actions of his servant. Threatening another that you would cut off the stream that feeds his fishery. And castrating and putting out the eyes of the Norman servant of a Norman lord. You almost seem to be at war with your own people. Oh, and creating a miraculous victory against a raiding Danish army, calling on God to destroy them with fire and raising your own private army! I believe that they call you ‘the king of Tendring Hundred’. Let me assure you that Tendring and the rest of England only has one king,” said William ominously.
Alan laughed long and loud, slapping the table in his mirth, with William raising an eyebrow as if he did not see the allegations as being grounds for humour.
“I see Bishop William and Earl Ralph, and possibly fitzWymarc and Engelric, have been in your ear already, although I think Engelric too clever to overstate his case,” he said. “The fact is that all four men have been raping your kingdom while you’ve been gone- along with many others. Obtaining money for the royal treasury under your instructions is one thing. Unlawfully enriching themselves at the expense of the people, and you, is another. These depositions show just some of their actions, from men and women strong enough to stand and say nay and appeal to you. I’m sure that they have all been resolved as administrative mistakes by now, Chancellor Regenbald?” asked Alan.
Regenbald nodded and said, “Apart from a few cases of junior officers either exceeding their authority or acting for their own benefit.”
Alan gave a sarcastic laugh. “The extent to which you wish to review the decision regarding the Redemption Relief by the various officers in your shires is up to you, Sire, but they have been receiving nearly as much money as
