London - Edward Rutherfurd [130]
And how fine it was. The upper and final storey of the Tower would be the most magnificent by far. “The royal floor, I call it,” Osric liked to say.
It was, in fact, a double floor. Although many centuries later, an extra floor would be inserted halfway up, the original apartments soared to a height of nearly forty feet. The western half would be taken up by a huge hall, most of the eastern by the royal chamber. Twenty feet up, round the outside wall of both rooms, there would run an internal gallery like a cloister, where courtiers could stroll, gaze out through small windows at the River Thames, or look down through the Norman arches into the great rooms below. There were more garderobes, and in the eastern chamber another fireplace, though the huge main hall would be warmed in the traditional manner by the great braziers in its centre.
But noblest of all, in the south-eastern corner, was the chapel.
It was very simple, with a rounded apse in the eastern wall. Its space was divided by a double row of thick, round pillars, making a short nave and two side aisles, with a gallery on the upper level. Its arches were rounded, its windows just wide enough to bathe its pale grey stone in a pleasant light. It was dedicated to St John. It was perhaps here, in this simple, sturdy chapel in the great castle keep by the river, that the spirit of William the Norman conqueror of England could most perfectly be felt.
And the main arches were just nearing completion when, one evening in spring, Osric received an unexpected message that Barnikel wanted to see him.
Two people had thrown the Dane’s plans into confusion. The first was Ralph Silversleeves.
As preparations for the expected invasion went forward, not only had King William sent for mercenaries from the Continent, he had also told Mandeville to prepare the Londoners. Which meant a new task for Ralph.
For once, the surly Norman had set about his work with intelligence. His men went from house to house collecting arms. All weapons of any description were taken and their owners warned that if they were found concealing anything afterwards, the punishment would be terrible. The Normans moved swiftly. Perhaps the only weapon they missed was Barnikel’s great two-handed battle-axe which, to his family’s horror, he obstinately insisted on hiding.
Since many of the weapons were in poor repair, they were taken to the armourers, where guards were posted to make sure nothing was removed. After this, they would be taken to a secure store. “And then I shall search the armourers as well, just to make sure they aren’t hiding anything either,” Ralph boasted to his family one evening.
“And where will you store all the arms, finally?” Hilda asked.
Ralph grinned. “In the Tower,” he replied.
It would be the first time the Tower had been used. While building was in progress, the garrison of London remained dispersed at the Ludgate forts and other places, but the great cellar, sealed off from the rest of the Tower, could serve as a store. Ralph had already had another mighty door placed at the bottom of the spiral stairs for extra security, and this, too, Alfred had fitted with a heavy lock. “A guard at the top door to the staircase, that’s all I need,” Ralph remarked. King William would be pleased to know that his great castle was already in use.
By the following day, Hilda had told Barnikel everything.
If the threat of having the armoury searched made Barnikel and Alfred nervous, in the end it was the armourer’s wife who brought the crisis to a head.
Wandering into the armoury late one night, she had surprised her husband just as he was concealing a sword in the hiding place under the floor. When, after her initial horror, she had forced him to tell her everything, she had given the armourer an ultimatum: “How could you put us all at risk? You must stop helping Barnikel. For good. And the arms must go.”
Alfred soon discovered that on this matter, his usually comfortable wife