‘And how are we meant to cross the rest of the way?’ asked Wace as he scratched at his injured eye. ‘Does he mean us to swim?’
‘The plan is for our foot-serjeants, spearmen and archers to lead the attack,’ Robert explained. ‘They’ll cross the fen in punts and rowing boats and hold the enemy at bay while the last few boat-bridges are drawn into position. Once they’re secured, the way will be clear for the rest of us to begin the assault proper.’
Eudo snorted. ‘Is there no simpler way of doing this?’
‘If there were, don’t you think someone would have suggested it by now?’ Robert replied tersely.
We gazed out across the marshes in silence. On a ridge of higher ground perhaps a quarter of a mile to the north rose the enemy’s ramparts, twice as high as the ones surrounding our own guardhouse, I reckoned. Arrayed atop them were banners in all colours and sizes and shapes, with designs that at this distance I couldn’t make out, all flapping resplendently in the breeze. Beneath those banners were hundreds upon hundreds of glinting shield- bosses and helmets, men in mail and men without, their spearpoints gleaming, in a line that stretched the entire length of the wall. Watching us.
‘All I know is that I don’t want to find myself in the leading conroi,’ I said. ‘If those boat-bridges aren’t properly secured, whoever arrives upon them first is going to find himself a watery grave.’
Even now I recalled only too well the screams of those who had perished when the original causeway collapsed, as the weight of their mail dragged them beneath the murky waters. Fyrheard only needed to lose his footing or to panic for the briefest of moments, and I might find myself sharing the same fate.
I glanced at the others. Their faces bore grim expressions, and I could tell they were all of the same mind. All except for Robert, that was, who alone would not meet my gaze.
I knew him well enough by then to be able to sense when something was amiss. ‘What is it, lord?’
‘I ought to have told you sooner.’
‘Told us what, lord?’ asked Wace.
‘I spoke with the king earlier this morning,’ said Robert, shaking his head. ‘I did my utmost to try to change his mind, but he wouldn’t listen-’
He broke off and turned away to look out across the glittering marshes.
‘Whatever it is, say it,’ I said impatiently, even though I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know.
‘Very well. This is what I have learnt.’ He glanced at each of us in turn. ‘As reward for your good service, and for your efforts in delivering Godric to him and bargaining with Earl Morcar, the king has decided to grant us the honour of leading the army across the bridge.’
Eudo swore under his breath. Wace shook his head, as if denying what we were all hearing. I just stood there, powerless to speak or move or do anything at all, feeling numb as a chill crept across my skin and worked its way into my bones. I had always hoped that when my end came, it would be a noble one: that I would die with sword in hand and battle-joy coursing through my limbs, fighting to the last for a cause that I believed in. This way, however, we were as likely to perish from being swallowed up by the swamp as upon the spears and swords of the enemy.
I spat upon the ground. ‘This is no reward. He might as well string us up and leave us to hang!’
‘Haven’t we done enough already, lord?’ Eudo asked.
‘Even assuming that we make it across the bridge without injury,’ Wace said, ‘we’ll have the enemy ramparts to contend with, and then their shield-wall, with no possibility of retreat if things go badly. We’ll be dead three times over before we get the chance to lay a scratch upon them.’
‘I do not pretend to understand the king’s mind,’ Robert said. ‘Would that things were otherwise, but these are his wishes.’
‘This is how he repays us?’ I asked, doing my best to restrain my anger. ‘Were it not for us, he would now be facing almost certain defeat. Provided that Morcar holds true to his word, we still stand a chance of winning this campaign and finally bringing an end to this rebellion.’
‘He realises that,’ said Robert. ‘And he is grateful-’
‘He has a strange way of showing it,’ Eudo muttered.
‘Let me ask you this, lord,’ I said. ‘He has more than a thousand knights at his disposal, and yet out of all of them he chooses us. Why?’
‘Because he has seen what you can accomplish. Because you have all three of you proven your worth in his eyes. And because he believes there is no one better to spearhead the attack and break the enemy lines than the men who opened the gates and fought the ætheling at Eoferwic; the same men who last year ventured into the heart of the enemy camp at Beferlic, who risked their hides to save mine and those of my kin, who helped to rout the Danes and force them to make terms.’
‘What are you saying?’ I asked, feeling the blood starting to boil in my veins. ‘Did you commend us for this task?’
‘Of course not,’ Robert said, recoiling at the insult. ‘Do you really believe I’d do such a thing? I entreated him as best I could, and almost thought at one point that I’d persuaded him to give the honour to someone else. But then his clerk spoke up.’
I thought at first that I must have misheard him. ‘His clerk?’
‘The monk. The one with the squint, who accompanied him when he came to question Godric, if you remember.’
Atselin. Heat rose up my cheeks. It felt as if there were firebrands behind my temples, under my very skull, burning me from within. Without willing it my hands had balled into fists.
I remembered how hot his temper had flared the last time we had met, before leaving Brandune, though at the time I’d thought nothing of his threats. Only now, when it was already too late, did I finally understand. He’d been planning this, biding his time, waiting for the reason and opportunity to bring about my downfall.
And I had delivered both to him.
‘What did he say?’ I heard myself asking. My voice sounded somehow distant, as if it no longer belonged to me.
‘He merely reminded the king of your deeds, as I’ve told you,’ Robert answered. ‘He seemed to know a great deal about you, and indeed had nothing but the highest praise for all your accomplishments. Is he a friend of yours?’
‘No,’ I said, knowing that to admit the truth would only invite rebuke, and I was in no mood for that. I saw now so clearly everything to which pride and frustration had blinded me. I should have guessed, somehow, that the monk would be whispering in the king’s ear. I should have heeded rather than scoff at his warnings. I should have known better than to bait him and stoke the fires of his enmity. And yet, as so often, once my blood was up I could not restrain myself.
It was not Atselin who had done this. I had brought this fate upon myself. And not just myself, but my sword-brothers too. Because of my pigheadedness we all would suffer, and if this attack went badly then their blood would be on my hands. I would have as good as killed them by my own sword, and the guilt would burden me for ever.
‘When do we begin the assault?’ asked Wace, oblivious, as they all were, to these thoughts raging within me.
‘Tomorrow, at dawn,’ Robert replied. ‘At first the king wanted to attack by night, but he was persuaded to wait until it was light so that we would be able to see more easily the way across the marsh, and that fewer men would lose their lives needlessly.’
He had some sense, then, which was more than I could claim. If I hadn’t been so desperate for adventure and a chance to free my sword-arm — if I hadn’t grown so fixated with recovering the respect that once I had commanded, the fame from which I’d fallen — I wouldn’t now be standing on the verge of losing everything.
‘The enemy will be ready for us,’ Eudo pointed out. ‘They’ll see us coming and have more than enough time to form up in their ranks.’
‘That cannot be helped,’ said Robert. ‘Besides, we only have to hold out until Morcar turns his spears upon his countrymen. When that happens, our task will become much easier.’
‘We, lord?’ Wace asked. ‘Do you mean you’ll be riding with us?’
‘Why not? You’ve risked your skins often enough on my behalf in the last few years. It’s only right that I return the favour. I will not shirk my duties any longer. If I don’t show willingness to place myself in danger, how can I expect my vassals and followers to do the same on my behalf?’ He didn’t wait for us to answer, but went on:
