CHAPTER 1
The Promise
The promise was made before I was born, to warriorswho lived across the sea in Denmark. It was a simple promisefor protection from the new bride's brother in England to thenew groom in Denmark. My guardian--Lord Harold--was the brotherwho made that promise to Kormac the Dane. Truth be told, had heknown how his words would be twisted he would have chosen them morecarefully and saved us a whole heap of trouble.
The promise that nearly took my life was written on a parchment thatlater disappeared—twice falling into the wrong hands. Had I, Williamcalled Wiley, fallen into that first set of hands at the wrong time I wouldnot be telling you this story. Those hands belonged to Svein Forkbeard, thesecond meanest man I had ever met. He was certainly no friend of God,but rather, I suspect, a friend of Satan the Devil. This you may judge foryourself.
My life turned upside down on an ordinary spring day that suddenlybecame extraordinary. Strangers recognized me that day, when even Ididn't know who I was. One of those strangers, Halfdan, easily earnedthe title of the meanest man I had ever met. Those men changed me froman unnoticed nobody into a target they pursued in a deadly game of greedand betrayal. Now, many years later, I'm still not sure I understand allthat happened. No man can tell which events God, Satan, fate, destiny,man or chance arranged, though I'm certain God always rules over all.
When I was a child morning usually crept into my bed while I wasstill soundly sleeping and in need of more rest. My mother Gudrid alwayssaid, "Wiley, if you don't get out of bed you will rot under the covers tillthe trolls come to make pudding out of the pieces of you." So I would riseup, knowing that I would soon be able to fall asleep again during morningdevotions. Our chapel was wickedly stuff y with the whole householdcrammed into it, and Brother Timothy droned on through each servicelike a giant bumblebee carrying the weight of the Heavens.
"We must persevere," he was saying as I fought to keep my head up."We must carry on. Even in this year of our Lord 1013, much of the worldstill has not come to know our Lord, Jesus Christ. Therefore, our missionis clear. We must make the Prince of Peace known to our enemies, forwe are certain that the dreaded raids of the fierce Viking invaders willnot cease to bring terror to English shores until those heathen becomeour brothers in Christ."
As he started the Bible lesson I was in my usual stealth nap position.It had taken me years to learn to fall asleep sitting bolt upright so that Iappeared to be awake. I was just dozing off when fate I believe, happenedto send a mouse skittering across my feet. Perchance I kicked Luke onthe bench beside me. For that reason or no reason, he kicked me. Onany other day we would have played, quietly kicking each other back andforth—but on this day I wanted to listen. Brother Timothy had useda new phrase that sent my sleepiness scurrying away with the mouse.I watched as Luke skillfully captured the mouse, trapping it by its tailunder his foot. Yet I still heard Brother Timothy too.
The lesson was about Naomi of Bethlehem-Judah and her faithfulMoabite daughter-in-law, Ruth. It seems that Naomi's husband hadmoved his family to Moab to escape famine in Israel. Their two sonsmarried Moabite women, but while they were living there Naomi'shusband and sons got sick and died. Suddenly the three women had nohusbands to provide for them, and no children to support them in theirold age. Truly, these poor widows were sorely in need of the kinsmanredeemer that Brother Timothy was talking about. It was a story I justhad to hear—but Luke was bent on mischief. He had picked up themouse by its tail and turned toward his little sister Sukey.
Sukey had been watching Luke with wide-eyed interest, but now ashe moved the mouse over her lap, she was holding her breath and doingher best to keep from screaming. Brother Timothy, unaware, continuedthe Bible lesson as I listened with itching ears.
One of the young widows, he said, decided to go home to her family inMoab; but Ruth, who was loyal and kind, refused to leave Naomi. She toldNaomi she would follow her wherever she went and live wherever she lived.Furthermore, Naomi's people would become Ruth's people, and Naomi'sGod would be Ruth's God also. They would both die and be buried in thesame place, or else said Ruth, the Lord should kill me now.
It shouldn't surprise anyone that after those strong words Ruth andNaomi stayed together and went to Bethlehem in Israel. It didn't surpriseSukey. By my reckoning Sukey didn't even hear that part of the story.She knew from the roguish look on her brother's face that she was histarget. Meanwhile Brother Timothy might as well have been in Heaven,because the entire mouse drama completely escaped his notice. He wentright on with the story of Ruth.
Once Naomi was back home in Bethlehem she wanted to sell someland that had belonged to her dead husband. Then she and Ruth couldlive on the money the land would bring. In the meantime, in order toprovide food for herself and Naomi, Ruth was gleaning grain left behindby the reapers in a barley field.
Now Naomi knew that the owner of the field was Boaz, a rich relativeor kinsman of Naomi and Ruth's husbands. Luckily for the women, therewas a law in Israel in those days concerning a kinsman redeemer, butLuke and his wildly wiggling mouse almost kept me from hearing whatone did. Some of the nearby castle folk were staring at us as brotherTimothy droned on. I just knew Sukey would scream and end the story,but she—bless her brave heart—did not. Mercifully, she silently faintedagainst the side of the lady sleeping next to her.
Luke grinned, letting the mouse dance over me, and I held my breathas Brother Timothy, still in his own world, explained how Boaz theredeemer saved Naomi's family.
To keep land in the family, a kinsman would have the chance to buyor redeem the dead man's land before anyone else. The widow was partof the bargain; the buyer would take her too, and marry her as Boaz did.Under this plan the first son born to Ruth and the kinsman would begiven the family name of Ruth's dead husband, just as if he had fatheredthe child. Th at way the dead man's name would not die in Israel and hisfamily wouldn't lose property.
So it was that Boaz became the kinsman redeemer for Naomi andRuth. Through him the name of Ruth's first husband lived on, continuingthe line of Naomi's husband even though all Naomi's closest male kinhad died.
Luke poked me. The mouse wasn't fun anymore now that Sukeycouldn't be teased with it. "Take it," he whispered, but I made a face andshook my head. I had to hear the rest of the story. I already knew that Itoo needed a rich kinsman redeemer.
Thanks to Boaz, Ruth and her mother-in-law had a secure future.Yet there was more said Brother Timothy, smiling broadly and raisingboth hands to the Heavens. Obed, the future first son of Ruth and Boaz,was to become the grandfather of the great King David, slayer of thegiant Goliath. Even I, who fell asleep in church, knew about David thegiant killer and warrior king of Israel. It was from his family line thatJesus Christ was born of Mary.
"This story," said Brother Timothy, "shows us that loyal foreignerslike Ruth of Moab are fully accepted as members of God's family. Wecan apply this truth to ourselves as Christians. We are just as much apart of God's family as His first-chosen Hebrew children. Our faith inGod and in His Son, Jesus Christ, fits us for the kingdom of Heaven. Weare accepted because God welcomes all those whose hearts and mindsare stayed on Him."
That made sense to me. I knew I was destined to become a knight.I'd be proud to take the knight's pledge of loyalty and service first toChrist, then to England's king, then to my earthly lord, Harold, andfinally to all mankind. Only one thing stood in my way. I didn't have afather to provide training, weapons, horses and fighting gear. My mothercouldn't give those things to me, she was but a cook in Lord Harold'scastle. And though Lord Harold cared for me almost as a kinsman, he'dnever offered to train me beyond the basic skills of a soldier. My fatherand his money were my only chance to be equipped for knighthood. Butwoefully, although I am not stupid, sickly, rude, lazy, cowardly, ill shapedor ugly, my father would not step forward to claim me.
Something was tickling my knee. The mouse was running in placethere as fast as it could. Luke held it just high enough to let it think itwas getting away. My friend was determined to end my daydreaming,or try my patience—I'm not sure which. I took the mouse. If I let it goit might run into one of the ladies, who would scream, so I got down onone knee, reaching past Luke and Sukey to the sleeping lady's basket onthe floor at her feet. Quickly lifting the corner of the cloth covering, Idropped the mouse inside the basket and hoped that the lady would notopen the basket in a crowded place.
While Brother Timothy prayed, I was thinking of the things mykinsman redeemer could do for me. Destiny cannot be denied. I wouldbecome a knight, father or no. Even if I didn't have a nobleman for afather, I did have a noble heart. Nothing thrilled my soul quite so muchas the sight of our knights riding out the castle gate with their bannersflying in the wind and looks of quiet strength on their faces. My kinsmancould give me his noble name if he had one, and his money to buy whata knight would need. I would become a doer of bold and daring deeds inGod's name. To keep England free I would bravely drive the Scots backto Scotland and the Danes to Denmark. There would be poems andstories written about me, and my surname, whatever it was, would bespoken of with reverence and awe. Perchance even, for a thousand years.I whispered it, "Wiley The Great, the strongest, bravest, and mightiestknight of all." Or, my thoughts went, how about William the Great?Much better, William is infinitely more knightly.
A sharp pain in my anklebone brought me back to the present. Lukewhispered, "Hurry, it's over, and Sukey is kicking me!"
We filed out of the chapel quietly, but then raced each other to thekitchen. One of our jobs was to serve at mealtimes, and Mother Gudridwould scold us if we were late. Besides, running outside was good forboys because it helped us keep still indoors. At least I was told that manytimes. Whatever, our running got us away from Sukey.
"Hurry, come quickly, you spindle-legged colts," Mother called as weneared the kitchen door and felt the heat of the cooking fires. She hada wide smile on her red face and gold in her hair where the sun playedupon it. We both had streaks of gold in our sandy brown hair, like hiddentreasure buried in the earth. Mother's eyes were lighter blue than mine,but we each had a slightly turned up nose with freckles.
"Lord Harold will not be wanting his bacon cold or his cream sour inthe bowl," my mother warned. "We must count our blessings and serveour lord with gratitude. By God's grace he provides our protection andall our earthly needs. Because of Lord Harold and Lady Roxanne, ourRockhaven Castle is the strongest, wealthiest fortress in the whole northof England."
Lady Roxanne's Norman uncle had built our castle with rock insteadof the usual mud and timbers. The builders started with the stonefoundation and remains of an old Roman fort. They added more towers,more living space, and repaired the walls around it. Everything we neededwas inside those inner and outer walls, including pasture, two wells,gardens, a meadow, barns, horse pens, cottages, bathhouses, blacksmithshop, storehouses, armory, mess hall and barracks for fifty soldiers. LordHarold could also call on the support of all the neighboring knights,tradesmen and farmers. On this bright morning and in this place I washappily carefree, yet well aware that not everyone else was.
Luke and Sukey were orphans. Four years before, the Danish KingSvein Forkbeard had led a midnight raid on our castle and killed theirmother and father right before their eyes. Had they not run he wouldhave hacked the children to death also. Their father, Eric, had been LordHarold's bodyguard, housecarl and friend.
Lady Roxanne and Lord Harold both agreed to raise the orphans. Atthe time they had two children of their own, John and Rachel, plus me,but they had also lost three children. I heard lady Roxanne say, "Our babeshad scarce entered into this world before they were called into eternitywith God." She took comfort in that place she called 'eternity with God,'while I always wondered where it was and what it was like. I still do. Butbecause they say there is no time in eternity, no hours to keep, I know I'lllike it better there than here. I won't have to get up early in the morning,or stop what I'm doing just because it's time to go and do something else.
So now, counting me, Lady Roxanne had five children again, tento fifteen years old. Sukey was the youngest and John was the oldest.John made sure everyone knew that. I was born on the first day of thenew millennium year of our Lord one thousand, and was second oldestat thirteen. My best friends Luke and Rachel were half a year youngerthan I. But John, woefully, always disliked me because I was good at mystudies while he was not. He did better at swords, spears, and war games.After all these years, I am still his favorite target.
Once breakfast, with cold sweet cream, porridge, bread and hotbacon was cleared away, I hurried to the north tower for my next job.Back then I tended to and took lessons from Anatoley, our alchemistand herbalist. He was the smartest one at Rockhaven, but so old he hadgone right past being old enough to care for himself. If someone hadn'ttended to him and picked up after him his life would have been constantcalamity, disaster and a much greater number of accidental explosions.Absent-minded was his middle name as he'd be first to tell you.
Nevertheless, he was a talented teacher, a gifted healer, and amarvelous inventor of amazing devices. Back when I knew him he spenta lot of time working with explosives because we had so many enemies,and he was determined to scare off the Scots raiders. As an alchemist hedidn't believe he could turn lead into gold with the tools he had at hand,so he spent most of his time creating herbal medicines, healing balmsand those awesome inventions.
I was not paying attention as I walked because I tripped on somethingsuddenly thrust in front of my feet. As I fell I heard the wild laughter ofJohn and Squire Wulfric.
"Look at the clumsy oaf!" squealed Wulfric.
"What did you expect?" laughed John. "This no account has a headfor books and Latin, but his legs are like those of an oafish donkey. Theyrefuse to hold him upright."
They doubled over with laughter at this insult, untrue mind you, asI picked myself up and pretended to ignore them. Unfortunately theywere just getting started.
"You think that because you write my father's letters for him you area trusted member of the family," John said with his hand firmly graspingmy shoulder and one foot pressing hard on mine. "Well think again, sonof nobody, you are naught but a lowly servant, and you will never, everbecome anything else, no matter what my father says or does for you."To add weight to his words he thrust out his lower lip and ground myfoot into the dirt.
I felt anger in spite of myself, but didn't want to give John an excuseto heap more scorn on me. I knew he was spoiling for a fight. Pullinghis hand off my shoulder and jerking my foot back, I started again forthe tower with my lips and teeth clamped tightly together. But as fatedecreed, I didn't get far.
Squire Wulfric picked up the heavy branch they had used to trip meand whacked me across the shoulders with it. Rage possessed me. I turnedand dove for his knees, and he fell to the ground with an enormous thud.The fall knocked the wind out of him. I watched as his fat face turnedfrom white to blue and his pale, pig-like eyes bulged into a frightenedfrog-like stare.
John looked from Wulfric to me, clearly wanting to end my existence,yet certain that his now purple-faced friend was going to die. Luckily forme, John chose to help Wulfric find his breath, and I was able to run tothe tower in no time at all. My work was waiting.
As Anatoley pored intently over his ancient books and manuscriptsI straightened up his workbench and laid out the tools and supplieshe had asked for. "Toil and trouble come from minds and workplacescovered over by the Devil's debris," Anatoley was fond of saying. Thefloor had to be swept clean lest he set the debris on fire while he worked.Eye of Newt, his fat yellow cat had to be fed and watered lest he eat theexperiment. My job was to assist and to foresee everything that couldgo wrong before it went wrong. Anatoley himself was too busy to noticeminor details until it was too late. "The mind of a genius," he always said,"is a rare jewel, too precious to be soiled by the clutter of daily existence."I was the unclutterer, and I loved my job.
Now on this extraordinary day, right in the middle of his boiledeel breakfast, Eye of Newt suddenly stopped chewing to stare at theoceanfront window. I looked out, carefully scanned the horizon andsaw—nothing. But Newt had secret senses unknown to man. He lefthis food and jumped onto the windowsill. Looking intently across thewater he tucked his right paw under his right shoulder and stuck outhis nose.
