Lord Geoffrey's Fancy

  © Alfred Duggan 1962

  Published by Pantheon Books, a Division of Random House, Inc.

  Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 62-11086

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce

  this book or portions thereof in any form.

  Manufactured in the U.S.A.

  WALLACHIA

  GLOSSARY OF PLACE-NAMES

  Andreville: Andravida

  Argues: Argos

  Brenice: Prinitza

  Mount Caride: Carydi

  Castel Rosso: Carystos

  Channel of St. George: Dardanelles

  River Charbon: Alpheus

  Chorinte: Corinth

  Clarence: Glarentza

  Dalphinet: Daphni

  Estives: Thebes

  La Bondonice: Boudonitza

  La Cremonie: Sparta (Lacedemon)

  La Grande Maigne: Maina

  La Grite: Calavryta

  La Sole: Salona

  Lambasse: Lampsacus

  Lamorie: the Morea

  Malvoisie: Monemvasia

  Naples de Romanie: Nauplia

  Negripont: Euboea

  Nicies: Nikli

  Oro: Oreus

  Porto Leone: Piraeus

  Satines: Athens

  Veligoute: Veligosti

  Wallachia: Thessaly and Epirus

  PROLOGUE

  Yesterday I overheard one of my grandchildren boasting that his grandmother, my wife, had been a cannibal heathen Turk until she married me. So I have decided to write down the adventures of my youth; partly to inform my descendants of their noble, Christian and civilised ancestry; but partly as some little memorial to the hero I followed in my youth, the best knight in all Romanie, my lord Geoffrey de Bruyere.

  I myself was born into one of the great families of England, the Briwerrs. But my father was the younger son of a younger son, holding only a single fee from the Bohuns of the Welsh March; and in the very year of my birth, 1233, the greatness of the Briwerrs vanished with the death of Sir William Briwerr of Devon. He had been one of the foremost barons of England, a stubborn old-fashioned King's Man who told Archbishop Langton to his face that Magna Carta did not bind King Henry, for it had been extorted from his father by force. Yes, while he was alive the Briwerrs mattered. But he left no male heir, and his lands were divided among women. Nowadays there is no great magnate to look after country knights of the house of Briwerr.

  Our fee will support only one knight, and I was the third son. Richard would stay at home, and in due time succeed; Henry became a clerk in the family of the Bishop of Hereford, for we all had a sound education; but I told my father, as soon I was old enough to decide, that I had no vocation for the celibate life. In our old-fashioned family we believe that rules are made to be kept, so I could not be a clerk. Since a Briwerr cannot go into trade I must fight for my bread. At twelve years of age I went to learn the profession of arms as a page in Ludlow Castle.

  Then my father won a good ransom, and very generously used it to fit me out with sound mail and a destrier. When I was twenty years old, and properly equipped, Lacy of Ludlow dubbed me knight. I came home for a few days, to take leave of my parents before I went out into the world with their blessing.

  My mother was interested chiefly in my private life.

  "Never seduce a virgin," she said most earnestly. "You'll hear men boast of it, but it's a felon's trick. Half an hour's fun for the man, and the girl ruined for life. Don't rape peasants, either, even if you are ravaging the land of their lord. That's not even fun, for a fastidious gentleman. Marry a nice girl as soon as you can support a wife; and remember that nice girls don't make the first advances. In the meantime, if you please some pretty married lady there's no harm in making her happy so long as you are discreet about it. No harm in this life, I mean; you know your catechism. But chastity is too much to expect from a man, though most men take it for granted in their womenfolk. For the rest, say your prayers night and morning, try not to get excommunicated, and remember that by now your grandmother is probably out of Purgatory and can see from Heaven everything you do. Don't make her ashamed of you."

  My father was more practical.

  "Choose a good lord and stick to him. Take a ransom if it's offered, and remember that there's no point in killing even a penniless foe after the fighting is over. But if you are going to kill a prisoner, tell him. Let him see a priest if one is handy; then cut his throat and get it over. King John used to lock up his captives and let them starve, not knowing whether they were meant to live or die. That's a beastly trick; no knight should ever do it. That's why you must make sure you serve a good lord. Take wages at the beginning, without giving your fealty; then you can leave without dishonour if you don't like your lord's habits."

  He shook a finger in warning.

  "Some lords will try to pay you with empty titles, so don't do homage for a fee until you have seizin of it. Grand Babylon would make a very nice barony; but if you are offered it in lieu of wages point out that the infidels hold it and you are not strong enough to dislodge them. Oh, and by the way," he added, "remember that you come from what has been a great family. Our ancestors came here from France in King William's time, but they may have left brothers behind them. If you meet a Briwerr anywhere oversea you may claim kinship with him."

  I rode southward from the March into the King's England, with a single servant to lead my packhorse and clean my mail. At Portsmouth they were recruiting for the mesnie of the Earl of Leicester, governor of Gascony, and I enlisted at a wage without any oath of fealty. But one season in Gascony was enough for me, though Earl Simon was an honest lord. The Gascons hated him, King Henry did not trust him, and he was always short of money; I would never get rich while I followed his banner. So early in 1254 I rode eastward into Toulouse, and then on through Provence towards Lombardy. I could have found employment in Toulouse, but it would have meant serving the King of France, who is usually at war with the King of England. That might have brought trouble to my father. But on the far side of the Rhone, and even more on the far side of the Alps, no one either helped or hindered our unfortunate King Henry.

  In Lombardy there were wars on every hand; but they were private fights between Guelfs and Ghibellines which were really hereditary blood fends, and a stranger from England would never be trusted. King Manfred of Sicily was recruiting troops and had the reputation of an honest paymaster; but there were a great many Saracens in his army and all his followers were under the special excommunication of the Pope. I felt that my mother would not like me to join him. There were also papal forces, who enjoyed great spiritual benefits; but there was no money to pay them, and in my twenty-first year I needed money more urgently than a safe conduct through Purgatory. I wandered uneasily through Tuscany to the lawless Abruzzi, where any castellan would give me hospitality if I fought for him in the next skirmish; but they were all treacherous brigands, and I had no desire to stay with them.

  Then one evening at supper in a little mountain castle I sat beside a French knight on his way home from Acre, where King Louis had discharged him as too sick for further warfare. It was pleasant to talk proper French again after the barbarous jargon of the Italians, and we quickly became friends. When I had told him my story he gave me sound advice.

  "You should try Outremer," he said. "Can you pay for your journey?"

  "I can pay for a sea voyage," I answered. "A few days ago a knight was killed who had a gold chain round his neck, and I was first to reach the body. But what is there for me in Outremer? I want to marry, so the Temple and the Hospital are no good. A man of my birth can't open a shop in Acre. The barons of the land have no fees to spare for strangers. I suppose King Louis would hire my sword, but th
ey say he won't be staying out there much longer."

  "Outremer is more than the Kingdom of Jerusalem," said the Frenchman. "There is all Romanie to choose from. Constantinople is a dead end, with schismatic Grifons raiding right up to the walls. But in Lamorie there are wealthy French barons, eager to enlist good knights. The lord of Satines is a de la Roche from Burgundy, and the Prince of Lamorie a Villehardouin from Champagne. He has recently conquered fresh cities and castles from the Grifons, and he will have vacant fees. Over there we are all Franks together, you know, even those who come from England. The Grifons, who have never forgotten Charlemagne, call everyone a Frank who hears Mass in Latin. To them even Germans and Italians are Franks."

  "Though of course they cannot compare with genuine north Frenchmen," I took him up. "It seems to be the right place for a penniless knight. Who is the overlord of these princes and barons ?"

  "That's the beauty of it," he said with a smile, "they haven't one. At the conquest, fifty years ago, it was arranged that they should owe service to the King of Salonique. But Montferrat of Salonique was killed by the Bulgars, and his kingdom died with him. So the Franks of Lamorie and Satines acknowledge no overlord at all, and they get on very well without one."

  "It sounds a place that would suit me," I answered. "Tell me how I get there." We talked far into the night.

  1. La Cremonie

  I left my Italian servant in his own country, for across the water I would need a man who spoke the local language. At Ban I took passage in a Venetian ship. The Venetians stood neutral in the quarrel between Guelfs and Ghibellines, and their ships traded to any harbour except those held by Pisa or Genoa, their mortal enemies. After coasting down a mountainous shore we reached Clarence in Lamorie. There I landed, and rode a few miles to the little town of Andreville, where the Princes of Lamorie have their lawcourt and their family tomb. But recently Prince William had fixed his chief residence in the town of La Cremonie farther to the south-east, which he had newly conquered from the Grifons. I was told that the road was safe and peaceful, as were in that happy time all the roads of Lamorie. So I set off to visit the court, with only my new servant for company.

  In those days Lamorie was the most prosperous land in the world, as well as the fairest. It is nearly an island, joined to the lordship of Satines only by a narrow isthmus; the whole of it was under the rule of Prince William who kept good peace. On the seas round about the only shipping was Italian; and the Venetians, though they fought the Genoese wherever they met them, kept down pirates. Neither infidel nor Grifon dared sail so far to the west. By every mountain pass there were great castles, but many towns were unwalled. I met merchants from Florence and Siena, journeying to buy the currants of Patras or the silk of Estives. They rode without escort for they carried no money; in any market they might cash their sealed letters of credit.

  It is hard to describe to a northerner the beauty of that land. Great mountains shut in every horizon, but between them stretch level plains, well cultivated. The mountains are taller and steeper than anything you will see in Wales, and the narrow roads that climb them are most frightening; though they were paved and embanked by the mighty men of old. Stone bridges cross every stream, and in the plains stand huge buildings of solid marble, intricately carved. You see something of the sort in Italy, but the old Italian idol-houses were built of brick under a marble facing, and as a rule someone has stolen the marble veneer. In Lamorie the solid marble keeps its dignity, even after the roof has gone. Orderly plantations of olives and mulberries make the plains seem like a pleasure garden, and wherever the hillside is not too steep thrifty Grifons sow their grain. Whitewashed churches stand at every crossroad, even in open country; they are roofed with domes, such as I had seen in Italy. But in Italy a dome is something special, reserved for an important building; here you saw them everywhere.

  But the beauty of Lamorie does not reside in any particular building or mountain. Something in the quality of the light would make a lazar-house look beautiful. Except in mid-winter the sun shines all day from a flawless sky, and at night the stars burn close at hand. The sea is a level plain of purple; rock-shadows move over the violet mountains; a knight glows in the plain tinctures of heraldry, until when I first came home even the golden leopards of Anjou seemed dull and dingy. Remember that in this land of the silkworm every respectable man or woman dresses in brilliant silk. White houses, honey-coloured marble, purple mountains, red ploughland, blue sea and blue sky—Lamorie is the fairest land in the world, and to breathe its air makes a man feel young and brave.

  The villages on my way were thickly inhabited, with industrious Grifon peasants who were more than a match for a Frank when I bargained for a jug of wine or a night's lodging. As a rule my servant could cope with them. Theodore was a young Gasmule, son of a Grifon mother and a Frank father, who had attached himself to me when I landed at Clarence. He spoke the French of Champagne with a slight accent, and Greek like a native. He cheated me in moderation whenever I spent a penny, but he did his best to stop my being cheated by others. I suppose he was a coward, since he chose to hang about Clarence and prey on strangers, though Gasmules are welcome in both Frankish and Grifon armies; but since I never put his courage to the test I cannot be sure.

  Theodore told me that the peasants were in general content under Frankish rule. The taxes were lower than in the days of their Emperor, and our justice is fairer and very much cheaper; he added with a grin that we are more easily deceived than the Grifon officials who used to keep them in order. What they really wanted more than anything else was freedom to practise the schismatic rites of their church, and this Prince William permitted. Of course he could not openly countenance heresy and schism, but he allowed Grifon priests to serve their parish churches after their own fashion on condition they swore obedience to Latin bishops. For centuries these peasants had been downtrodden taxpayers, supporting the splendour of the imperial court and getting absolutely nothing in return for their money. They were men of peace, and it would be useless to call them out even in the arriere-ban; but they would obey Frankish lords, as they would obey anyone who held the castles looming over their villages.

  I have said that Prince William ruled all Lamorie, but this was not wholly accurate. On the last day of my journey to La Cremonie a great range of mountains filled the horizon on our left, and Theodore glanced nervously at the peaks. He explained that among the glens of these mountains live the Esclavons of Escorta, wild mountaineers who acknowledge no lord. Their warriors come to battle on foot, so they cannot meet Franks in the field. But they skip over their mountains by paths no stranger can follow; and since they are too ignorant to plough they come down whenever they feel hungry to plunder in the lowland villages.

  "But on the plain we shall be safe from them," he added. "They fear even one man on horseback. And to get here from their mountains they must pass the castle of Carytena, which was built to keep them in. They prefer to raid northwards. I am glad the Prince is at La Cremonie and not at Chorinte, which lies at the end of that dangerous northern road."

  In the afternoon we came in sight of the low unimpressive walls of La Cremonie, which lies in a rich valley between two jagged mountains. The walls still showed the scars of Prince William's capture a few years ago. For nowadays La Cremonie depends for protection on the mighty castle of Mistra which the Prince has built on a spur of the mountain above it. Whoever holds Mistra holds La Cremonie. All that valley is very good land, with fine grazing for oxen; a precious thing in Lamorie, where sheep range on every hill but horned cattle are few.

  We entered the town just before sunset, and went straight to the Prince's hall. This was a long building set in a huddle of houses, with no open space before it and without fortification; but it was roofed with a vault of masonry, like a basilica, which made it look imposing though it was only a single storey high.

  At the door stood a sentry, who called a French-speaking under-steward when he saw I was a gentleman of quality from the west.
The steward, an Italian of the kind who pretends to knighthood and passes his spare time selling groceries, made me welcome in the most gratifying way. Before I entered the hall I saw Theodore and the horses bedded down in dry straw; though the steward in his burgess fashion thought it unfitting that a knight should look to the welfare of his following before he found a place for himself.

  The Italian did not recognise the arms of Briwerr on my shield, though he took in the label of cadency which marked me as a younger son. His manner was a little patronising as he asked me why I sought audience with Prince William of Lamorie.

  "You are welcome," he said smugly, "but it would be convenient if you will tell me on what errand you have come. Have you left home to escape the gallows, to win fame as a knight-errant, or merely to earn a livelihood? By what name shall I announce you?"

  "I am Sir William de Briwerr, from England," I answered with some stiffness. "No gallows waits for me at home, and I never expect to be famous. If the Prince will hire me I shall be glad to serve him, but if he already has swords enough I shall go on to Constantinople."

  "Constantinople today is no place for a knight," he said with a smirk, "unless you are willing to be paid in holy bones. That's all the Emperor has to offer, now that he has sold the lead off his palace roof. But our Prince will always find room for another good western sword."

  He led me into the long hall, where hundreds of knights and ladies sat drinking on the benches. On the dais at the far end was a table of state with no less than twelve chairs behind it, and I recalled that this must be about the time of the Michaelmas parliament when vassals visit their lords; for on my journey I had lost count of the calendar.

  The Prince received me graciously, urging me to be his guest for the few days of the parliament until his marshal had time to talk business with nie. He was a tall knight of about forty, with long fair hair and a rabbit mouth, very splendidly dressed; his French had a faint Levantine accent.