[Norman Conquest 02] Winter of Discontent (55 page)

Alan shook his head in disbelief and walked off to
wards
the ten-man leather tent that he shared with other
member
s of the crew, and sat down next to the fire to eat a meal of beef stew made from the rations that the Danes had provided, and washed down by English ale paid for by Prince Osbjorn. Finally he gave a laugh at the irony that the Danes were paying wages to the men who were spying on them and
he
was still chuckling when he wrapped himself in his blanket to sleep.

The following afternoon Alan met with the spy Eadmer at ‘The Anchor’ tavern. As he walked into the tap-room he suffered the usual twinge in the stomach from the stench of unwashed bodies, vomit, urine, stale beer, rotting floor-rushes and animal excrement. His eyes watered from the drifting smoke from the small central fire,
which
in the absence of a chimney eventually seeped out under the eaves of the poorly-
made
thatched roof. Alan couldn’t understand how such an establishment could continue to exist, given the insalubrious conditions, poor fare and poor service- after all it wasn’t as if the drink was cheap. After a close look around in an unsuccessful attempt to locate Eadmer’s minders, Alan approached the nondescript spy, who was wearing a leather jerkin and breeches and with a red
woollen
cap. Eadmer waved away the slatternly woman who had been sharing his table, slipping her a silver penny as Alan sat down after carefully examining the cleanliness of the small wooden bench.

Eadmer launched straight into his report without any pr
eliminary
pleasantries, talking slowly and carefully to allow Alan to mentally record the information he was receiving. A serving-wench approaching with two quart jugs of rancid beer was waved away by Eadmer, who had rented the table by a previous purchase of a pint j
ack
which sat untouched on the table. Eadmer picked up
his
beer
m
ug and surreptitiously began to pour it onto the floor, so as not to draw attention by leaving an untouched drink when the
y eventually vacated the table.

When Eadmer had finished his report, which was intended to then be carried by the longship to King William’s agents further south, Alan explained the problem with Gundred and
skald
Thorkell Skalleson. “So that’s who you’re using. A fairly good source- if you can trust him, since he’s a Dane. Still, the Danes probably are no more fond of gold than anybody else, and any amateur spy is likely to be a weak tool. Missing two weeks of scheduled meetings isn’t a good sign, but I haven’t heard any
rumours of spies being caught at
Earl’s Hall at Durham, which is where the earls are staying. You’ll need to go up to Durham and see whether they’ve got cold feet, or what else is going on.”

Alan grunted his acknowledgement of the advice. “I’ll get the ship to take me up to Monkwearmouth tomorrow.”

“Nah! Nah!” replied Eadmer, waving a hand
negatively
. “You’ll be too noticeable that way. You’ve got the locals around here used to you, but questions will be asked if you head north instead of south. Buy a couple of nags and ride up to Durham with your servant. That way you won’t receive any undue attention
-
there are hundreds of armed men on horses and you won’t even be noticed. A longship would be noticed.”

Alan did as he had been bidden and early the following morning purchased two rough hackamores and their tack from one of the less-disreputable horse-traders, carefully examining their legs and gait at a trot. While they weren’t animals that he’d be prepared to take on a campaign he was satisfied they could cover the eighteen miles to Durham and
then
back.

Alan and his page Leof arrived at Durham a little after mid-day, pay
ed
their pontage toll to cross the wooden bridge over the River Wear and enter
ed
the town from the south. After weeks of living rough in either the hide-out cave or
a tent at
the camp on the bank of the River Tees Alan saw no need to patronise cheap an
d
uncomfortable lodgings and chose a non-descript but comfortable inn called ‘The Duck & Drake’, taking a small and sparsely furnished but clean room on the first floor. The horses were ensconced at a small stable a few yards down the street, the young groom being given twopence to rub down
and feed and water the animals.

After a midday meal of bacon and vegetable pottage, day-old bread and hard cheese washed down by ale, Alan decided to have a brief look at the town before he sought Gundred and the
skald
. By southern standards Durham was a large town rather than a city and was nestled on high ground on the north bank of the River Wear in a tight loop of the river, so as to be afforded protection by the water
on
three sides. The site had been chosen for defensibility, given the history of repeated raids by Vikings and Scots. The town lacked the grandiose buildings that usually adorned cities, but possessed in full measure all the banes of urban life including noise and filth in the crowded streets. Apart from being one o
f few substantial towns in the n
orth, Durham’s claim to fame were the holy
relics housed the ‘
The White Church
’
, the large church built of white stone by the Saxons to house the relics of Saint Cuthbert. There was already
talk of replacing the church with a cathedral, to reflect the importance of the diocese being the fourth-mos
t influential in the land.

As they approached the church across the market square Alan indicated to Leof the burnt-out ruins nearby. “Bishop Aethelwine’s house. The bishop is no friend of the Normans, but nor is he popular with Cospatric and the House of Bamburgh. Robert of Commines was staying there when he came to the town after being appointed earl. The bishop warned him of the impending attack, but Commines thought he knew better- he always was an arrogant self-opinionated bastard. A typical Fleming. That was his last mistake. Cospatric couldn’t force his way into the house so he burnt it down and killed Commines and his men as they tried to flee the fire.”

There were a number of people proceeding in and out of the west-facing main door of the church, many in the sack-cloth and broad-brimmed hats of pilgrims visiting this the most important religious site in
northern
England. Here, in a shrine located in one of the transepts near the altar, were gilded caskets containing the remains of Saint Cuthbert of Lindisfa
rne, the most popular saint in n
orthern England, together with caskets containing the head of Saint Oswald and the remains of the author Bede, who had praised both of the s
aints in his written histories.

The inside of the stone church was dark and cold, the air thick with floating clouds of incense. Just inside the church door stood two burly-looking priests in monk’s habits and a large box on a table. Noticing that the pilgrims placed coins in the box, Alan did the same, adding two silver pennies to the money that the diocese garnered from this religious tourism as the faithful came to pray, and in some cases to beseech the miracles for which the shrine was famous. He dipped his fingers in the holy-water of the stoup and
anointed his forehead and lips.

Some
two dozen pilgrims gathered at the wooden railing
which
separated the shrine from the remainder of the church, several bearing crutches or other signs of infirmity. Past pilgrims had included many of the powerful in the land, not least King Cnut who had gifted the diocese substantial lands within Northumbria. Alan first approached the main altar to kneel and pray at the altar-rail. The altar itself was covered with a beautifully-embroidered cloth of fine white linen, and on this stood two large golden five-branched candelabr
a
with tall and thick bees-wax candles alight, and a large open vellum-bound book. Above was the magnificent Great Cross, which had been presented to the church a few years before by
Tostig when he was earl, and subsequently deliberately damaged by Cospatric. Tostig had not sought to glorify God with gold and jewels, but with fine imported cedar-wood and the excellence of the craftsmanship of the carving. Alan felt that he could almost himself feel the pain clearly shown on the face
of
Christ crucified. How Cospatric, supposedly a Christian, could deliberately defile such a magnificent piece of work by mutilating the left side of the body, out of petty spite, was something beyond Alan’s comprehension. He drew from his pocket his five-decade of rosary beads and began reciting the Apostle’s Creed
while kneeling
below
the crucifix
. He
then proceed
ed
to Our Fathers and Hail Marys, allowing his mind to clear as he meditated on the familiar ritual.

After completing his devotions at the altar Alan moved to kneel on the stone floor near the shrine, being able to find room at one end of the
line of
kneeling pilgrims. Again he allowed his mind to clear and accept the Word and to drink in the holiness of the sacred surroundings.

By the time he had finished his devotions the afternoon was drawing to a close
. W
hen they left the White Church he turned his steps towards the fortified
burg
within the walls at the northern part of the town. While Durham had been fortified for protection against raids by the Vikings and Scots, both of which had occurred for time out of
memory
, it had no castle as it had never been governed by the Normans- apart from the few weeks of Robert of Commines ill-fated rule. What it did have was the
burg
. This was a fortification with wooden walls within which in times of trouble the local populace and their animals could take refuge for a short period, with some reserves of fo
od and forage being maintained.
A
burg
had a different function to a castle. The latter was intended to protect its garrison for a substantial period of time. In contrast, a
burg
was intended to protect all the people for a short time- it was not intended to undergo prolonged sieges as neither the Scots nor the Viking
raiders
undertook these. Within the
burg
was Earl’s Hall, and it was here that Alan and Leof went that evening.

Gaining access to Earl’s Hall was not difficult. The streets of the city were thronged with warriors from three armies- the English, the Danes and the Scots. There were so many soldiers in the town that anybody with the bearing of a warrior and carrying a sword was less likely to be questioned by the guards than
was
a local townsman. Dozens of warriors were entering the
burg
, timing their arrival for the evening meal. There were so many entering
that
the few guards were overwhelmed by numbers and, not wanting to cause friction by challenging reluctant allies, the guards concentrated on looking fierc
e and alert while doing little.

Alan strode in with the confidence of a man who
knew
where he was and what he was doing and
who
had nothing to hide- all of which were inapplicable, but he’d learned much from his time at the
r
oyal
c
ourt and knew that an arrogant attitude could take a man almost anywhere. He had little concern about being discovered as an impostor. Whilst he wasn’t dressed in fine clothes, neither was he or Leof poorly dressed. He’d left his distinctive green-dyed wolf-cloak behind at the cave hide-out and was dressed Saxon-style in tunic and breeches made of russet-dyed wool, with cross-bound leggings and leather boots. His hair was long and in disarray, as he’d chosen not to tie it back. During his time in the caves he’d grown
his
beard
longer
- both the long hair and the beard being of flaming red. Given the regular Viking raids into Northumbria over the years, and the current Danish contingent, neither his tall and strong physique nor his colouring were in any way unusual in the Hall. He had met earls Edwin and Morcar in p
olite social gatherings in the s
outh before the rebellion, but he had not met Waltheof, Cospatric or the other rebels, and more particularly had not met the minions that may be in a position to apprehend him
. He
knew that even those who he had met previously would be hard-pressed to recognise him now.

All he had to do was avoid making any stupid mistakes and he w
ould be
safe.

He
took a place at one of the lower tables, well below the Salt, and talked to those warrior seated about him. Most warriors when they’ve had a few drinks will open their mouths and boast about themselves without any thought and Alan was able to obtain information simply by asking a few questions- indeed the main problem was trying to maintain the conversation on
a
basis that interested him, with the warriors wanting to boast about past exploits or complain about curr
ent accommodation and supplies.