‘God aid us,’ another shouted. The traditional war-cry of Normandy, it was quickly taken up, until we were all roaring as if with one voice: ‘God aid us!’
The battle-calm was upon me; everything was as simple as practising sword-cuts against the stake in the training yard. Time seemed to slow: each moment stretched into an eternity, and I knew every movement of my foes before it even happened. From their stance and the way they held their weapons I knew whether their next strokes would be low or high, feint or parry or thrust or cut, and armed with that knowledge I lost myself to the will of my blade, striking out to left and right, feeling free in a way that I hadn’t in longer than I could remember, all my earlier anxiety having fled. Dimly I was aware of Serlo and Pons on either side of me, protecting my flanks, but I didn’t care whether or not they were there, for I was laughing with the ease of it all as we scythed a path through the enemy towards their lord.
He stood beyond the fires, trying desperately to rally his troops, but for the most part his orders fell on deaf ears. All around him was confusion. The enemy were in disarray, in two minds whether to retreat or to hold their ground, whereas we were united in our desire to spill enemy blood. A few of the thegn’s more steadfast warriors chose to stand by him, but already a large number were making as fast as they could manage for the safety of the marsh-channel, some limping with gashes to their sides and thighs where they had been struck, others clutching their arms or shoulders, fleeing out of fear for their lives, and I knew we had to take full advantage of this moment.
‘Kill them,’ I cried. ‘No mercy!’
After that it was all over so quickly. One instant I was in the midst of battle, leading the attack against the few who bravely fought on, and the next I was looking into the eyes of the thegn himself. I rushed him with my shield, slamming the boss into his chest and jerking the iron rim upwards into his jaw. The force of the blow sent him stumbling backwards, his mouth and chin running with blood. His sword slipped from his grasp and he lost his footing on the muddy ground. The weight of his mail did the rest, bringing him crashing down on to his back. Breathing hard, I looked up, expecting to find his companions coming to his aid, but they were all on the ground, either finished on the blade-edges of my knights or else writhing in pain and desperately calling out for help that wouldn’t come.
Sweat dripped from my brow, stinging my eyes, and the blood of my enemies, warm and sticky, streamed down my sword-hand. A few of the Englishmen still lived, but not many. Having seen their leader fall they knew better than to continue the struggle, and now they too were turning in flight, pursued by Eudo and Wace and their knights. This was the first chance any of us had had to exercise our sword-arms in a long while, to wreak our vengeance upon the rebels, and they seized the opportunity to quench their bloodthirst, whooping with delight at the chase and the glory of the kill.
The thegn tried to get up, scrabbling beside him for his weapon, but I kicked the hilt away before he could reach it. It spun away across the stony ground. I levelled the point of my sword towards the bare skin at his neck and straightaway he stiffened. Beneath his helmet his eyes opened wide, the whites reflecting the moonlight.
‘Move and I’ll slit your throat from ear to ear,’ I said, hoping he would understand me. My blood was still up and it was hard to think of the right English words, and so I spoke in my own tongue instead.
He swallowed. His face carried few scars of the sort that I knew from my own reflection, and that was when I saw him for the youth that he was, no more than seventeen or eighteen summers, by my reckoning, and possibly younger even than that, stoutly built and round of face, with a brace of golden rings on each hand. Clearly he was wealthy, and used to fine living, and yet I doubted if he had won that wealth through battle. Not if his sword-skills were anything to judge by, and while it was fair to say that some men were better leaders than they were fighters, I found it hard to imagine a mere pup such as him inspiring much confidence in anyone.
‘
At last he found his voice. ‘Spare me, lord.’ He stumbled a little over the words as he replied in French, trying to appease me, I supposed. ‘Please, take my rings, anything you wish, but have mercy, I beg of you.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Godric,’ he said as tears welled in his eyes. ‘Thegn of Corbei and son of Burgheard.’
I’d never heard of a place called Corbei, or of his father Burgheard, but that did not particularly surprise me. I was beginning to build an impression of Godric. A petty landholder with pretensions to grandeur, he equipped himself as handsomely as he could to disguise his lowly status. I recognised his kind.
‘I’m not going to kill you,’ I assured him. ‘But you can give me your rings. I’ll have those. Your helmet and scabbard too.’
Godric glanced around him, but he was surrounded by Frenchmen and there was no way he could escape.
‘Do it,’ I said.
Reluctantly he divested himself of his helm and weapons, laying them down carefully on the ground beside him. I stood over him, my sword still drawn, watching carefully in case he possessed any hidden blades — knives on a belt underneath his tunic, perhaps — and was foolish enough to try to use them. As soon as he’d removed them all, I instructed Hamo and his men to carry them to our boats, together with as much as they could carry of the goods we’d brought with us. We didn’t have time to take away everything, or to strip the corpses of their possessions. Already what I thought was a faint smear of grey was beginning to appear on the horizon. It might have been my imagination, but I wasn’t willing to take that chance. I wanted to be well away from here by the time day was upon us.
‘A few of them managed to get away,’ Eudo told me when he and Wace returned from their pursuit. ‘They fled into the marsh-channel where we couldn’t follow them.’
Another reason to leave this place as quickly as possible. Soon they would rouse their countrymen and return, no doubt in larger numbers. Indeed reinforcements might already be on their way. The clash of steel and screams of the dying would carry easily across the marshes. If there were any sentries on watch on the other side of the channel, they would surely have heard us.
Wace handed me the coin-pouches that had formed part of our bait, which he and his knights had managed to recover from where they’d fallen amongst the enemy dead.
‘It’s mostly all there,’ he said. ‘We might be a few pennies short, but not many.’
Probably some had been spilt during the fight. Their loss didn’t concern me all that much. Our capture of the Englishman ought to bring us reward enough to pay for everything this expedition had cost us, hopefully with a good amount left over too, although the king’s treasurers weren’t known for their generosity.
‘On your feet,’ I told him. At first he did not respond, and it took Pons striking him across his shoulder-blades with a spear-haft to jolt him into doing as instructed. I wished I’d thought to bring some rope with which to bind his wrists, but he didn’t look the sort who was likely to put up much of a fight. Not after seeing so many of his countrymen cut down before his eyes.
I shoved him in the back to start him moving as, guided by Baudri, we made our way back across the islet towards where Hamo and his men were waiting with the punts. They had worked quickly, dragging the small vessels down from the thicket and pushing them out into the shallows so that they were already afloat by the time we arrived.
‘Whatever price you demand for my release, my uncle will pay it,’ Godric said as we reached the shore. ‘I swear it.’
‘Why should anyone pay a single penny for the sake of a wretch like you?’ I asked with a snort as we splashed our way through the murky knee-deep waters out to the boats.
‘I’m his only nephew, and the closest to a son that he has.’
‘Many men hate their sons,’ I replied. ‘He might not want you back. Besides, how are we supposed to get word to him?’
Godric had no answer to that, and since he wouldn’t get into the punt willingly I had no choice but to shove him over the gunwale. He gave a cry as he tumbled forward, landing awkwardly on his side. I took my place next to him, where I could keep a close watch over him.
‘Don’t speak another word unless you want to feel my blade between your ribs.’ I laid a hand upon the knife-hilt by my waist. ‘Do you hear me?’
He said nothing, and I took that to mean that he did. Wace and Hamo in the other boats were already pushing off from the shore and I gave the signal to Serlo, who once more had the punting-pole, to do the same. And so we left the island of Litelport behind us. Not half an hour could have passed since I’d spied what I thought
