‘Trouble?’
‘As you’ll no doubt have heard, the rightful heir to the province was killed in an ambush earlier this year at Cassel. The new count, who has no love for Normandy, is said to be gathering his barons to his banner in readiness for a campaign.’
I knew very well about what had taken place at Cassel. Guillaume fitz Osbern, one of the king’s closest and longest-serving companions and advisers, and by most people’s reckoning the second most powerful man in England, had been sent across the Narrow Sea at the behest of Queen Mathilda, the king’s wife, to aid the young heir, a relation of hers by the name of Arnulf, in his struggles against his enemies. He had been at the boy’s side when the attack came, and he met his end there too, which was hardly surprising given that he’d seen fit to take with him a mere ten of his household knights for protection. I couldn’t say that I was altogether sad to hear of his demise, as embarrassing a fate as it was for one so formidable. I had met him on more than one occasion and felt him to be among the most arrogant of men, with an exaggerated sense of his own importance that perhaps stemmed from his many years of friendship with the king.
‘A campaign against Normandy?’ I asked. ‘At this time of year? The leaves are already falling. In a couple more months it will be winter. What does the Flemish count think he can possibly achieve in so short a space of time?’
‘I don’t know. Nevertheless he presents enough of a threat that the king has felt the need to act. He is determined to strike against the Flemings before they have a chance to do the same to us. He wishes to remind them of their place, and to avenge Fitz Osbern’s death.’
‘Why should that be of any concern to us?’ I asked, though I was starting to suspect what the answer would be, and didn’t like it. ‘That is the king’s business, surely, not ours.’
‘He plans to sail as soon as possible, and has requested that I join him. I have sent a letter to him this afternoon with affirmation of my intention to do so.’
‘We’ve just spent close to three months in the field,’ I said. ‘You have fulfilled your duties to him, and more besides.’
‘Would that were so. But there is the small matter of the relief that I owe him, if I am to succeed to my father’s barony.’
‘I thought that had already been agreed, lord, when he came to pay his respects.’
‘It has,’ he said. ‘And, given the emptiness of our house’s treasury, and in recognition of the good service I have given him so far this year, the king has generously agreed to waive the requirement for a monetary payment, or renders in kind, if I will join him on this latest campaign.’
‘Lord, the outlay required for yet another expedition-’
‘Will still be lower than the cost of paying the relief,’ he finished for me. ‘I have considered this carefully, and weighed up the various expenses involved, and this is the conclusion I have reached. But the cost is not my only reason for doing this.’ He took a deep breath. ‘If I am to forge my own reputation and build upon the foundations that my father has laid, then I must continue to make every effort to win the king’s favour. And I cannot spend all autumn and winter in mourning. My father would not have wanted that.’
I had the feeling that I already knew what it was he wished to ask of me. As usual, though, he refused to come out with it and tell me frankly. Instead he always sought to explain everything first, as if he’d already guessed what my response would be and felt the need to try to persuade me.
‘You want me to go with you,’ I said. ‘That’s what you’ve called me here for, isn’t it?’
‘I have need of your sword, Tancred.’
It was as I’d thought. Hardly had we had the chance to rinse the bloodstains from our mail and our blades than another foe reared his head. Except that the most the Flemish count probably had in mind was stealing a few herd of cattle and burning some storehouses, before retreating to his own lands just as the first snow began to fall: a quick victory to win renown and support from his nobles and to cement his rule. Such raids happened all the time, even when our realm and his were supposedly at peace with one another. They hardly warranted our attention. Moreover, King Guillaume had left his half-brother, Bishop Odo, and his eldest son, another Robert, to govern and defend Normandy in his absence. If there was any fighting to be done to fend off the incursions of the Flemings, they would surely see to it as vigorously as the king himself would. In short, I could think of no reason for us to go.
‘No,’ I said.
Robert stared at me. ‘No?’
‘I’m going to Dyflin,’ I said.
‘Dyflin?’ he echoed, with a look on his face as if I’d just told him the sky was green, and the grass pink. ‘Of all the places in Christendom, why do you want to go there?’
I’d never told him about Oswynn — there had never been any reason to — and I wasn’t about to try to explain now. In all the time I’d known him, he had shown little interest in concerns of the heart, and whilst I didn’t doubt he had his share of mistresses, he never spoke of them to me. He wouldn’t understand.
‘I have my reasons,’ I said simply.
‘You have your oath to me to consider.’
‘Have I not already given you my service, lord?’ In return for the lands he had granted me at Earnford, I was obliged to follow him on campaign for forty days each year. I didn’t know how long exactly we had spent in the marsh country besieging the Isle, but it was probably closer to twice that. ‘Have I not done enough?’
‘You have done a great deal for me, and you should know that I am grateful for your loyalty, I truly am. As soon as our foes are defeated, I promise that I will repay you most handsomely. The king will grant me lands in return for aiding him in his victories, and by the time we are back here for the Christmas feast, I will have riches aplenty to bestow. Gold, silver, horses, land. Whatever it is you seek, I will be able to give you. You have my word. I ask only for your patience.’
I could hardly look at him then as I shook my head, disbelieving. He had said that to me before. But Christmas was two and a half months hence. How patient did he expect me to be?
In any case, it would take more than a few chests of coin or precious jewels to convince me that it was worth abandoning my pursuit of Oswynn to spend almost a quarter of the year following the king on yet another of his expeditions. Another two and a half months and I might never find her again. Even now it might be too late.
‘Would that we could linger by our hearth-fires and regale others with the tales of our hard-won success,’ Robert said in a tone that was no doubt intended to soothe, but which did anything but. ‘In time we will have that chance, I promise. But not yet.’
I clenched my teeth to curb my tongue, feeling my ire rising. ‘Lord, I cannot.’
‘One more campaign before the year is out,’ Robert said. ‘That is all I ask.’
‘And after the Flemings, who will it be next?’ I countered, almost spitting the words. ‘The Scots, perhaps, or else the French king?’
If Robert wanted to go to such lengths to worm his way into King Guillaume’s confidence, then that was his choice. He hardly needed my help in that, and he was mistaken if he thought I would follow him blindly wherever he chose to go, like some dutiful puppy. I was sworn to Robert, trusted him and counted him among my friends, but that did not mean I had to obey his every whim.
‘God’s teeth, it’s hardly as if I’m asking-’
I’d heard enough. ‘I have given you my answer,’ I said before he could finish. ‘And the answer is no.’
I turned and marched towards the door.
‘Tancred,’ he called after me. ‘Tancred!’
I did not stop or so much as look back, but ignored him as I threw the door open and strode away along the passage and down the stairs, out into the yard, my mood as black as the gathering clouds.
Robert did not come after me, nor had I expected him to, but nevertheless I took pains to avoid him the rest of that afternoon. I needed some time alone while I tried to tease out the various skeins of thought that had become tangled in my mind.
As soon as the showers had passed, I went where I thought no one would think to look for me, to a place by the edge of the orchards that I remembered from my previous visit here, at Easter when Robert had welcomed all his vassals to a great outdoor feast beneath the blossoming branches. I sat on the rain-soaked ground, beneath the yellowing leaves of a gnarled pear tree, drew out my whetstone and ran it up the edge of my knife, as I often
