Falls Ende

Chapter 1

FALLS ENDE: PRIMUS

PART ONE

King Henry II

Married Eleanor of Aquitaine after her marriage to Louis VII of France was annulled, they had eight children.

Short on stature but not energy, he sported red hair, freckles, grey eyes and a notable temper. He favoured restoring relations with the church after challenging papal authority in England over clerical crimes.

Ongoing conflict with Louis VII saw the two rulers enter a bitter contest for territory. Henry expanded his empire, conquering Brittany and pushed further east into central France and then south into Toulouse. By 1172, he controlled England, large parts of Wales, the eastern half of Ireland and the western half of France.

He reigned as Count of Anjou, Count of Maine, Duke of Normandy, Duke of Aquitaine, Count of Nantes, Lord of Ireland and King of England.

Courser -

A swift and strong horse, frequently used during the Middle Ages as a warhorse, and ridden by knights and men-at-arms

Mellester Manor, Devonshire, England 1157 A.D.

Stained brown by recent heavy rains, dark, silted water cascaded over sizeable boulders to begin its clamorous and chaotic plunge. Worn smooth from erosion, gleaming wet rocks embedded into both sides of the narrow chasm increased its force and funnelled the river, propelling the turbulent water forwards and down to collide on rocks in a continuous explosion of noise and spray. Caught by the prevailing breeze, even mild gusts whisked the spray up and back, where it descended like a gentle soft rain.

The river's descent wasn't completely vertical; it was a naturally stepped decline that dropped about twenty-two feet, over a distance of twenty yards or so. The narrowest part of the falls was at the top, and the watercourse gradually widened until it formed into a deep pool at the bottom, loosely ringed by even more boulders. A little farther downstream, where tributaries joined and the distance between riverbanks widened, the water flow slowed noticeably and meandered sedately in a series of lazy curves through low lying valleys, towards the coast, and eventually serenely drifted into an estuary.

Along the sheer sides of the waterfall, in cracks and crevices, clear from the tumult of passing water, moss and lichen thrived in munificence, their dull hues blending artfully into the background of dark, glistening stone and dirtied water. On the south side, a well-used narrow path, or riverwalk, ran parallel to the river, sometimes dangerously close to the river's edge, while on the forested hills beyond, trees and bush grew all the way down to the path and provided a home to an abundance of game and wildlife.

On the other bank, the north side of the waterfall, the land was dominated by cultivated farms that belonged to Mellester Manor. Tended by villeins1 and freemen2, well-maintained crops on strips of arable land consisted mostly of wheat and barley, and in adjacent fields, separated by hedgerows and well maintained wooden railed fences, cows and a flock of sheep grazed contentedly on thick, lush grass. It was a peaceful manor, free of rancour, but not without a little grizzling - if it had none, it wouldn't be natural.

Skywards, towards the west, highlit by the early morning sun, remnants of the last weather front could still be seen. It brought rain and chill that still lingered. From nearby Mellester Village, which consisted of a small cluster of homes and buildings dominated by a church, two figures squelched through a paddock and headed up the gently sloping field towards the waterfall. The larger figure pushed an oversized barrow that contained a pile of freshly hewn wood, all neatly dressed and trimmed, an assortment of tools and, wrapped in cloth, some bread, cheese and a few strips of dried pork they would eat later in the day.

The animated voice of a boy, his breath turning white from the cold, could be heard from a distance as he told his father how he will be a deierie3 farmer when old enough. With childish naivety, he elaborated and described the herd of cows he will one day own and breed the finest deierie cows in all of England. The boy's father wasn't in a mind to explain to his exuberant son the harsh realities of life as a freeman in the manor.

In the distance, disrupting the boy's exhortation, the sound of a horn could be heard. Its three haunting blasts were a signal that would invoke a chain of events destined to have a profound and lasting effect on Mellester Manor.

Almost immediately, it was followed by the frantic baying of hounds. The man stopped pushing the heavy barrow, carefully lowered it to the ground, turned his head slightly and listened. After a heartbeat or two, he pointed into the distance and explained to the boy how Edgar, the lord's huntsman, left the village before sunrise with his apprentice son and headed into the forest beyond the river to search for sign of wild boar. Once he located the animal with reasonable certainty, he would alert the lord's hunt party to the boar's location by blowing his horn. Immediately the hounds would be released, and the lord, accompanied by a retinue of noblemen and knights on horseback, would set out after the ferocious beast. The huntsman and Seth, his apprentice, would follow on foot.

The hunt was expected to be exhilarating and challenging and provide its participants with a genuine element of danger to test their bravery and skill. A full grown, grumpy wild boar intent on mating was certainly a worthy adversary when disturbed, and one to be respected and even feared when angered.

Mindful of the tasks that needed to be completed that day, the man bent to pick up the barrow's handles and continued pushing it towards the River Eks near the waterfall. The boy lagged a step or two behind, all previous thoughts of fat deierie cows and farming temporarily forgotten as he contemplated with some seriousness the dangers a wild boar posed to himself and his defenceless father. His ruminations were interrupted as his father began issuing instructions on where he wanted the freshly milled timber to be taken and holes dug.