he dared meet us in open battle or so much as send a single raiding-band against our camp.’
Wace shrugged. ‘He is a coward. What other explanation is there?’
‘Maybe he is, but that doesn’t mean he is stupid. I’d wager he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s content to let others harry us and wreak destruction, while he shuts himself up inside the rebels’ fastness at Elyg and, week by week, wears us down. Hereward and his band might have made it their cause to shed Norman blood until the marshes run red, but for Morcar this rebellion is merely a way of furthering his own ambitions. He doesn’t want to dirty his hands if he can help it. In the end he’s not looking to fight us, but to bargain.’
All eyes turned to the king, who was looking into the hearth, his hands clasped together and his forefingers steepled in front of his pursed lips. The fire-glow reflected in the whites of his eyes.
‘If you’re right, that means that he can be bought,’ he murmured.
I nodded. ‘Every man has his price. But the longer this campaign continues and the more desperate we grow, the greater the advantage he and the rebels hold, and so the greater their demands will be if we find ourselves forced to sue for peace.’
I said if, but truthfully I knew that it was a matter of when. As I’d said to Robert yesterday, we could not keep fighting this war for ever.
‘You would try to come to an arrangement with Morcar,’ said the king. ‘You would pay a small price to him now, to avoid having to pay a larger one later. Is that it?’
‘That is it, lord king.’
‘You have no confidence, then, in our prospects of taking Elyg by force?’
‘I don’t doubt that it can be done,’ I lied, having to choose my words with care. ‘But it will be costly, and will mean the deaths of many hundreds if not thousands of our own men. Whether victory is worth that cost is not for me to say.’
The king turned to Godric. ‘For the right price, can your uncle be persuaded to renew his oath to me and abandon the rest of the rebels?’
‘I don’t know,’ the Englishman answered. ‘It is possible, I suppose. There has never has been any friendship between him and Hereward. They hate one another, and there are often fights between their followers.’
That was news to my ear. We’d long known that the rebels were an unruly and disparate lot, but that their disagreements were spilling over into open violence surprised me. I was about to press him further, but the king spoke before I could open my mouth.
‘You know Morcar better than most. What does he want? Does he wish me to furnish him with chests filled with silver and precious stones? Or does he want ships to take him far across the sea so that he may never trouble these shores again?’
‘His earldom,’ Robert put in: the first he had spoken in a long while. ‘He seeks the restitution of his old province of Northumbria, as it was granted to him by your predecessor, King Eadward.’ He glanced at our prisoner. ‘That’s right, isn’t it?’
‘It is all he has ever wanted, lords,’ Godric said. ‘He wishes for his rank, title and landholdings to be returned, and for his honour to be restored.’
The earldom of Northumbria. It had once belonged to my former lord, Robert de Commines, until he was murdered that night at Dunholm. Now it was held by the corpulent and grasping Gospatric, an Englishman who hailed from one of the ancient northern families and who commanded a great deal of influence in those parts. His loyalty to us had always been vacillating at best, and openly treacherous on occasion, and all he seemed to care about was adding to his already considerable treasure hoard and acquiring ever more slave-girls to help warm his bed. I knew the king had long been looking for someone to install in his place, although no Norman wanted to venture into that cold, wet province and risk meeting their end at the hands of the wild men who lived there.
‘Northumbria,’ the king said mockingly. ‘What would he want with such a miserable corner of land? Has he not heard what happened last winter?’
‘He has,’ Godric said. ‘But he believes he would be a better man to govern it than Gospatric.’
Despite the ruin the king had wrought there, he hadn’t managed to lay waste the entire province, and I imagined there were parts that had escaped the slaughter and the flames, where a man could easily prosper. Whether Morcar would prove any more dependable than Gospatric, or whether he could subdue the seditious folk who lived there any more successfully, remained doubtful, but none of that mattered at the present moment.
Atselin cleared his throat as if he wished to say something, but promptly fell quiet when the king held up a hand in warning. A stillness hung in the air. I hardly dared move, or even swallow to moisten my throat. Not until the king spoke.
After what seemed like an eternity, he told Godric, ‘If that is what your uncle wishes, I will give it to him gladly. You may go back and tell him that.’ He turned to Atselin. ‘Draw up a writ immediately confirming Morcar as earl as proof of my word. I will put my seal to it.’
The monk blinked in surprise. ‘Are you …’ he began, but then faltered, his brow furrowing. ‘My lord, are you certain of this?’
‘Do you question my judgement, Atselin?’
‘No, lord, but-’
‘Then simply see that it is done.’
The monk bowed. ‘Of course, my king.’
‘Now, in return for this generous gift, Godric of Corbei, your uncle must be willing to renounce whatever oaths he may have sworn to his countrymen, and to swear allegiance to me, and me alone.’
‘I will tell him.’
‘Good.’ The king smiled. ‘If your uncle agrees to these terms, he must send word within three days. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, lord.’
He turned to me. ‘You, Breton, are responsible for escorting our friend back to the place where you captured him, or as close as you can manage if the enemy are afield. There you will let him go, and he will make his own way back to Elyg.’
‘When would you have us do this?’ I asked.
‘Tonight, under the cover of darkness. The sooner he is reunited with his countrymen, the less reason they’ll have to be suspicious. He has been gone long enough as it is. I will send further instructions this afternoon, along with the writ for him to deliver.’ He pointed a thick finger at Robert. ‘I entrust the Englishman to your care until then. He is your responsibility. If anything should happen to him, you will be answerable to me. You will receive your reward for his capture only if he returns, and does so in possession of favourable news from his uncle.’
‘Yes, lord king,’ Robert replied, more than a little stiffly, but if King Guillaume noticed then he said nothing of it.
‘Make sure that you remain true to your word, Englishman,’ he said as he gestured for his knights to unhand Godric. ‘Consider yourself fortunate and remember that I have been generous on this occasion, but remember, too, that even my generosity is not without limit. Should you cross me and find yourself at my mercy again, I will take great pleasure in seeing that your death is both slow and terrible.’
He did not wait for Godric to reply, but stalked out of the hall, closely followed by his two guardsmen, their scarlet cloaks swirling behind them. Atselin paused long enough to fix me with his customary hard stare, but then he too was gone, leaving us alone with the Englishman. A part of me wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, although I knew that our work was barely begun.
For in a few hours we would send the boy to ply his uncle with promises of rich reward. In his hands rested our fates.
Seven
For the second time in as many nights, then, we found ourselves out on the fens, making our way through the maze of rivers and channels that made up the marsh country. After our ambush the night before, I expected the rebels to be more wary. Indeed had I been commanding them, I’d have made sure to set more sentries on duty, and sent more and larger scouting-parties out to roam the surrounding fens and keep a keen eye out for any
