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Historical Note

The battle of Hastings (or Senlac) brought the Normans into England as conquerors.  The new Norman King William rewarded his supporters with land taken from Saxon owners, and for a long time there were fights and rebellions in different parts of England.  One of these rebellions, perhaps the most serious one, erupted in East Anglia, led by Hereward the Wake (meaning vigilant), a Saxon nobleman whose home was near Bourne in Lincolnshire.

It was a very difficult time for everyone in England.  The land was under new ownership, and many of the old English laws and customs were being disregarded or ignored, especially if they favoured the Saxons.   It meant that both Saxons and Normans felt insecure and frightened of each other, and this easily led to anger and suspicion.  Saxons blamed Normans and Normans blamed Saxons, so that people were labelled good or bad simply because of who they were, rather than what they did.

This story begins in the late spring of 1070.   King William has been occupied in putting down a number of rebellions led by Saxon churchmen and nobles in several areas of England.   Most recently he has laid waste to large parts of Yorkshire, Lancashire and Northumberland to prevent any further revolts there, but Eddric the Wild is causing problems for the Normans in the Midlands (then known as Mercia) and the West, and news of Hereward’s rebellion centred on the isle and monastery of Ely is very serious.  If Hereward and Eddric can plan together and start the fighting on several fronts, then they can stretch the Norman army.  In fact Eddric is neither as clever nor as charismatic a leader as Hereward, and he is soon persuaded (with the aid of a large bribe) to surrender in July 1070, leaving Hereward as the only rebel.

Ely was a real island in the Fens, or Gyr as it was known then.  Full of swamps and bogs, and small rivers and streams, it was almost impossible for William’s army to fight large battles with Hereward who fought a clever guerilla war.  Although King William bribed Hereward’s only ally, the Danish king Sweyn to leave in the early summer of 1070, Hereward was not defeated until he was betrayed by a monk who led the Norman army along the secret dry paths to the island. 

Although most of the characters like Svein are fictional, their backgrounds and experiences are real.  However, Sheriff Eustace was real – and he behaved just as I have portrayed him in the book. He used his power both legally and illegally to make himself rich. Hunneva is my own invention, but I have based her home on that of a Saxon landowner called Dunning, who appears in Doomsday Book.

Chapter 1

"I won't....I won't....I won't!" Hunneva yelled again, covering her ears with her hands and setting her mouth into a tight line.
"Won't?  Won’t" her father repeated, his voice rose in anger and frustration, causing the house dogs to whine uneasily.
 Her mother forced down Hunneva's hands. "It's no use Neva, you must see reason..."
"Move out of the way Edith”. Her father pushed in front of her mother and stood directly over her.  “Now listen to me Neva, I will not tolerate this disobedience and lack of respect from you.  You’ll soon be twelve and of an age to be betrothed.  I have arranged a good match for you, and your mother agrees with me.”  He stopped and with a tremendous effort he dropped his voice. “Why are you defying us like this – you know that we want what is best for you."
"I won't marry a Norman!"  Neva's voice was squeaky with anger and fear, which was making it difficult to breathe.  She swallowed hard and raised her head so that she could see her parents standing stiffly in front of her. She lifted her chin up a little further and taking a deep breath, said “After all the things you said about the Normans and what they've done to our friends and neighbours since they came here – I can’t believe you want me to marry one of them!” 
Edith and Dunning looked at each other wearily.  For nearly an hour they had been trying to persuade their youngest daughter to accept betrothal to their neighbour’s younger son.  Neva had remained deaf to all arguments.  Dunning was now very angry, while Edith was worried and upset for both her husband and daughter.  Neva might be the baby of the family, she might be a little spoiled, but she wasn’t stupid and she had never defied her father’s authority like this.
Neva stared fixedly at the silver buckle on her father’s belt.  She had always got her own way before by throwing a tremendous sulk or wearing down her parents’ resistance by constant pleading – learning to ride before she learnt how to spin and weave with her sisters had been one of her triumphs.  Her parents had secretly been proud of their independent and determined daughter; but events beyond their manor had changed their world completely as Normans took over from Saxons, and new laws and customs had changed both people and society.
Dunning rubbed his forehead.  As one of the few Saxon landowners left in Huntedunscire, he had quickly recognized that he was going to have to make the best of what was happening around him.  Life was never going to be the same as it had been.  So he had swallowed his pride and welcomed his new Norman neighbour, helping him to settle into his new home.  He quickly found Lord Hugh to be  an honourable and honest man, in full agreement that it was up to each of them to set a good example of mutual co-operation to their neighbours, both Saxon and Norman who lived around them.  A formal alliance between the two families had seemed the next logical step, and they agreed to the betrothal of Neva, Dunning’s youngest daughter to Lord Hugh’s second son, Richard.  Neva’s defiance both angered and exasperated him.
Edith knelt down in front of Neva, her skirts rustling the new rushes on the floor.  She took her daughter’s hands firmly into her own, and said quietly, "Neva, you have to be sensible. I won't tell you again that it is your duty to obey your father, in every way, you know that well enough..." She paused as Neva gave a small hiccupping sob, “We have agreed to this betrothal because it is the best way to protect you and our family’s interests. Lord Hugh is a just man and Richard is a fine youth," she paused and then added encouragingly," and nothing like his brother."
Neva looked straight ahead, and pressed her lips together hard. She didn’t want to marry Richard.  She could picture him in her mind; a slim, fair-haired youth, with a quiet voice. She had nothing against him, except, except he was a Norman. 
Edith continued, “Richard is different to Guy, as you well know.” Neva thought briefly about Richard Fitzhugh.  He had been destined for high office in the Church, and had been sent to Normandy as a novice in a monastery whose name she couldn’t remember.  After an outbreak of fever and illness, he had been sent home to recover, and persuaded his parents to let him remain.  He was not interested in being a monk, he once told Neva; he wanted to run estates like his father and hoped that he would inherit Lord Hugh’s English manors. They weren’t as valuable as the ones Guy, as the eldest son, would inherit in Normandy of course, but good enough for Richard.
Guy was a knight, and currently serving in the household of his mother’s kinsman, Sheriff Eustace of Huntedune; the Sheriff had already gained a reputation as a hard man.  Eustace represented the king in the county, and presided over the shire court, acting as judge and tax collector, and was already making a small fortune for himself.  The king received his share of fines and money from the sale of lands of local Saxons, but there was always the opportunity for the Sheriff to make money for himself.  Guy’s reputation was similar, he was known locally as a difficult man to please, a bit of a bully and not a man to be crossed.  The two brothers were certainly very different, but they were both Normans, and for Neva, that was enough.  
Her mother sighed and stood up, jangling her girdle keys as she always did when she was upset or nervous, and her voice sounded cold, “You will be thirteen come St Luke’s this year, and we must look to wed you well. An alliance with Lord Hugh will be good for us all and will keep your dower lands safe.”
"So," Neva's voice was dangerously quiet," this marriage is really about keeping the land safe, I don’t come into it at all!"
Edith closed her eyes and thought briefly of the three small graves containing Neva’s brothers, who had all died in infancy.  In these circumstances, Neva’s marriage became even more important.  Gytha, their only other child, had married a silversmith in Huntedune, and he had already made it plain that he had no desire to inherit Dunning’s lands. 
Dunning threw his hands up, “Stop thinking like a child! Of course it’s about land, and your duty to your parents, as well as the people who depend on us.  I would have preferred Gytha to marry a wealthy landowner, but that was impossible four years ago.  You have a dowry as valuable as hers, and she married someone who can provide a comfortable life for her.  Why should you be treated any differently to Gytha?” He shook his head, “Your position as Richard’s wife allies us with a powerful and influential man, and means that Sheriff Eustace will think twice before he makes any attempt to take my land from me.  It is your duty to marry Richard, and I’ll hear no more about it.” 
Neva continued to stare at his belt buckle but made no reply.  Her father said curtly, “Lock her in the dairy Edith, with no food for a couple of days, so she can think about what we have said.  If that fails I will have to beat some sense into her.” Turning on his heel, Dunning strode out of the hall.
Neva followed her mother into the sunny courtyard, tugging angrily at her kirtle, to straighten it over her hips, and walked towards the small thatched dairy, which stood in the northeast corner.  It stayed in the shade throughout most of the day and was always cool with thick walls and a thatch which came down very low.  She stepped up and over the threshold, which was raised well above the level of the yard to prevent the mud and rubbish from getting in.  It was dark inside, the one small window space covered securely by a wooden shutter, which helped to keep out rats and mice. It was certainly a cool, quiet place for someone who needed to calm down.
As she stepped inside she blinked rapidly before turning back to her mother. An apology hovered somewhere near her tongue but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything.  Edith waited for a moment, and then, with obvious disappointment on her face, said, "I will send over a servant with a blanket.  Please Neva; think about this carefully, I beg you."
She gave her daughter's shoulder a slight squeeze but Neva remained stiff and unresponsive. Shaking her head, Edith stepped back into the sunshine and pushed the door closed, dropping in the wooden peg.  She turned and made her way back towards the hall, shooing away the hens, which had gathered expectantly around the doorway.
Neva was left alone.

 

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