Stewart Binns - Anarchy

My mother had described my grandfather’s helmet to me many times. I had made sure that, when it came time for me to have my own helmet made, it matched her description of it as closely as possible: made in quarter-plates of iron, joined by reinforced bronze bands, it had a domed top with nose and eyepieces shaped to fit tightly to the face. On its front, from the tip of the nose guard to the dome, ran a piece of highly polished bronze, elegantly chased with runic swirls.

I also wore fine leather knee-high boots, another legacy passed on by family tradition from my grandfather’s days in Sicily. Made for me by a cordwainer in Norwich from a design supplied by my mother, they made a distinctive clatter on the sett stone approach to the gates of the Arsenale.

My knightly garb and weaponry made it relatively easy for me to pass the guards to the great Venetian dockyard and I was soon striding purposefully across what seemed like an infinite expanse of moorings, timber, rigging and sail. There were all manner of pulleys, hoists, blocks and capstans hauling weights; myriad artisans and craftsmen toiled at their tasks, and the incessant squawk of gulls conflicted with the rhythmic din of the labour of thousands of men.

The Venetian galley was not just a vessel for trade; it was also a fearsome man-o’-war. The larger vessels had upper and lower decks of oarsmen, as well as a mainsail and sails fore and aft. They also had a body of professional marines to keep the pirates at bay. These larger ships usually acted as escorts to fleets of smaller cargo ships that were similar in design but smaller and lighter and with only one deck of oars. It was service on the larger war triremes that seemed to offer me the best chance for adventure and military experience.

After finding a Norman shipwright who was fluent in Veneto to act as interpreter, I made my approach to Raphael of Pesaro. I thought I sounded convincing about my suitability to mount a marine escort to a Venetian galley, but the Master of the Arsenale took a different view.

‘Young sir, you are not much more than a boy. Come back in five years when that bum-fluff on your face has grown into a beard!’

He laughed as he spoke, and the artisans and stevedores around him sniggered with him.

‘But, Magister, I have fought with King Henry Beauclerc in Wales. And my men are fine soldiers. Do not insult me or my noble family.’

My challenge made Raphael change his tone to one that was even more disparaging.

‘Henry Beauclerc – who’s he? And Wales? Never heard of it. A land of woodchoppers and sheep-shaggers by the look of that peasant’s axe you’re carrying.’

‘My axe is a family tradition. My grandfather was Godwin of Ely, Captain of the Varangian Guard of the Emperor Alexius.’

Although I was reluctant to use my grandfather’s reputation to gain favour, I had little choice but to use it to persuade Raphael to take me seriously.

‘Do you expect me to believe that? I saw this man once, many years ago in Bari. He was a huge blond man, and his axe was the biggest weapon I’d ever seen. And it was double-bladed.’

‘He was the only one who could use it effectively. My axe is the more typical single-blade design, but I am very proficient with it. As for my appearance, my grandmother, mother and father were all dark; they had the ancient Celtic blood of Old Britain.’

Raphael moved closer and stared at me. He was taller than I was, and broader at the shoulders, but I remained resolute.

‘How many men do you have?’

‘Three and a groom.’

‘Is that all? Not much of a retinue for such an important knight!’

He started to smirk again.

‘Magister, I travel light. I am going to serve the Latin Princes in the Holy Land, which is not a place to try to provision a large force of men.’

‘What do you know of the Holy Land?’

‘My father and mother fought there, at Antioch and Jerusalem, with Robert Curthose, Duke of Normandy, and Edgar the Atheling, Prince of the English.’

‘Your mother was a knight? That’s not possible, boy.’

‘It is in Islam. My mother was knighted by Ibn Hamed, Emir of Calatafimi, when she and my father fought for him and Roger of Sicily at the Battle of Mazara. I am Harold of Hereford, Knight of England. I stopped being called “boy” when I won my knight’s pennon on my eighteenth birthday.’

I had told a blatant lie about my knight’s pennon, but I was beyond the point of no return and threw caution to the wind. Raphael stared at me even more intently.

‘That is impressive; you certainly talk the talk of a knight. Do you have a testimonial from your lord?’

‘No, Magister. I had to leave in a hurry.’

‘Tell me more.’

‘Well, I had a dalliance with someone in my lord’s household.’

Another lie of course, but one born of desperation. By his demeanour, Raphael of Pesaro looked like the kind of man who was rather too fond of female company and I gambled that an infidelity at court might win me some esteem in his eyes.

‘Was she worth it?’

‘Yes, she was. But it got me into murky waters.’

‘Your lord’s daughter?’

‘No, his mistress.’

The belligerent expression on his face softened as he thought about what I had told him.

‘Why do women go for skinny dogs like you? Can’t understand it.’

He smiled. My gambit had worked; there is nothing like male vanity.

‘Can you and your men use a bow? All our marine cohorts have to be experts in the bow. It is most effective against pirates.’

‘Yes, of course. Archery is a great tradition in my country.’

‘Ah, yes, the land of the woodchoppers! Where is your bow now?’

‘With my men at our lodgings.’

‘Very well, come back tomorrow with your men and your weapons and we will see how well you measure up to your boasts and the pedigree of your family.’

‘Thank you, Magister.’

As I walked back to give the news to the others, I was delighted that I had got as far as I had. But when I told the others, they were less than enthusiastic. Eadmer had a look of horror on his face, but it was Toste who spoke first.

‘So you told them you are already a knight?’

‘I did. It was only a small lie.’

Wulfric spoke next.

‘It sounds like a big one to me. What could be bigger?’

‘I also told him that we had to leave Norwich because I had been tupping the Earl’s mistress.’

All four of them looked at me incredulously. Alric tried to make light of it.

‘Well, that’s not too bad. You could have told him that you were an earl and had been humping the Queen.’

None of them smiled at his attempt at whimsy. Eadmer was still frowning.

‘Hal, you know it is an offence to pass yourself off as a knight. The punishment would be severe in England, I’m sure it is the same here.’

‘I know. But when the Doge makes me a knight, it won’t matter.’

‘I thought you followed the Mos Militum and its code of honour: truth and justice, in all things?’

‘I do! But needs must. My family found its destiny beyond England’s shores, and that’s what I intend to do.’

‘Hal, the Master is obviously going to put us to the test tomorrow, but how?’

‘I don’t know. Archery for sure. He didn’t mention anything else.’

‘So we’re in a foreign land being tested as marines – something entirely alien to us – by people who think we’re barbarians. Is there any good news?’

‘Yes, of course! We’ll pass with flying colours and be on a galley to the Levant on the next tide.’

My glibness did not seem to impress them. Eadmer just stood up and walked away sullenly, leaving the others to stare at me wide-eyed.

The next day, in a perfect example of Eadmer’s loyalty and professionalism, the men were ready in excellent order for their ordeal. Their discipline also helped fortify me. I had not spent the most comfortable of nights coming to terms with what I had let my companions and myself in for.