nothing. Indeed he couldn’t stop smiling. ‘We thought you would be coming, but we didn’t know when exactly it would be.’
At once I tensed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, we didn’t know for certain, but we reckoned you must be on your way here when they said-’
‘Who?’ I asked. ‘Who said?’
‘They did, lord,’ he replied. ‘The ones who came a few days ago, asking for you. When Galfrid told them that you had been gone these past three months, they said to keep a lookout for you, and that they would return soon.’
It was as I’d feared. News had travelled before us. Robert’s messengers must have overtaken us on the road, or else taken a different route across the kingdom.
‘Did they say what they wanted?’ I asked, though I could readily guess.
‘If they did, lord, we never heard it,’ Gode put in. ‘Fierce men, they were, and unpleasant, too, lacking in all manners or Christian grace. Lord knows they put the fear into poor Galfrid.’
I could think of only one reason those men might have come looking for me, and that was to drag me back to Heia.
‘They didn’t say when they would be back?’ I asked.
Nothmund shook his head. ‘They asked Galfrid if they might stay here until you returned from campaign, but he refused and eventually they were forced to go away.’
That suggested they weren’t any of Robert’s men, for if they had been then they wouldn’t have needed even to ask. Perhaps he had sent word to the local shire-reeve or else to Roger de Montgommeri, the newly appointed Earl of Scrobbesburh, and he in turn had sent his own oathmen to pay me a visit. That would explain how they had been able to arrive before us. A lone messenger could make the journey across the kingdom far more quickly than a tired and bedraggled band of five, especially if he could change steeds and obtain provisions at friendly castles and manors along the way.
‘Who were they, lord?’ Gode asked. ‘Were they friends of yours, do you suppose?’
‘No,’ I answered. ‘Not friends.’
They might have been at one time, but now I wasn’t so sure. I gave my thanks to Nothmund and Gode and then we left them, continuing on our way past the thicket where the pigs foraged, until the village and the church and my hall upon the mound, overlooking the river-crossing, came into sight. The Welsh had completely done for this place, as they had for many estates this side of the great dyke, when they brought their great raiding-army into England around this time last year. In some places one could still make out the fire-blackened outlines where cottages and sheds had once stood. It had taken the full year to recover from that devastation, though the manor was still not as prosperous as once it had been. Even now as we approached I could see men bending withies into wattle for walls, thatching fresh roofs on recently erected cottages, sawing timbers for the new church that was being raised on the foundation stones of the old. But there were also folk working the fields, tilling the earth with oxen and plough, sowing seed, keeping watch over the flocks of sheep, carrying pails of water from the stream to the kitchens across the yard from the hall. For the first time in many months, life in Earnford seemed to be almost restored to what it had been before. Not quite, for I hadn’t forgotten how many families had lost their lives to the Welsh attack. Their loss was still keenly felt.
One of the younger lads, Brunic by name, saw us approaching along the rutted track and scurried away to fetch the steward, Galfrid, who was busy overseeing the construction of a new fish-weir a little way upstream. As soon as the lad pointed us out to him, though, he left the men to their work and strode over to meet us. He had never been a cheery sort; he was certainly not happy now.
‘I see you’re back, then,’ he said. ‘Not a day too soon, if you ask me. I thought you’d abandoned us altogether.’
‘It’s good to see you, too, Galfrid,’ I said.
‘Now that you’re here, perhaps you can explain why I’ve had strangers knocking at our gates, demanding to see you, and threatening our folk with violence if you don’t show yourself.’
It was hardly the greeting I’d been hoping for, given how long we’d been gone, although in the circumstances I wasn’t wholly surprised. Were I in Galfrid’s place, no doubt I’d be asking the same questions. He was responsible not just for managing my household, but also, in my absence, defending the manor against the marauders who from time to time came across the dyke from Wales. I’d first met him the previous year, after his lord had been killed and the manor where he had been steward put to the torch by Welsh raiders, which gave us more than one thing in common. He’d joined me on the campaign in the north that autumn, and afterwards I’d accepted his oath and installed him at Earnford, where I was in need of a man of his qualities, my old steward having absconded some months previously, taking with him a large portion of my silver and one of the finest stallions from my stables.
He was perhaps a little too fond of the sound of his own voice, but that was the worst that could be said about Galfrid. A more than competent swordsman, he was also a lot sharper of mind than at first people often took him for, and loyal besides, which was the most important thing.
‘They threatened the village folk?’ I asked him. Nothmund and Gode hadn’t mentioned that.
‘They reckoned you were hiding away in the hall, although why they thought that, I have no idea. I told them you were away with the king’s army, but they didn’t believe me. They demanded I let them in so that they could search the place, swearing they would run me through and leave my corpse for the crows if I didn’t. When I continued to refuse, though, they changed their minds, saying instead that they would be back in a few days’ time, with more men. They told me that if you didn’t willingly give yourself up then, they would set fire to the hall and all the cottages.’
‘When was this?’
‘Three days ago, lord.’
‘How many of them were there?’
‘Half a dozen,’ he replied. ‘All of them armed and ready for a fight. I had some of the village lads for support, but even so, it was something close to a miracle that they went away as readily as they did.’
Whoever these men were, they had clearly hoped that intimidation would be enough to get them what they wanted. Even if Earl Roger was the one who sent them, as I half suspected, he wouldn’t have wanted them to shed blood on lands that didn’t belong to him, especially if that blood happened to be French. That, rather than the miracle Galfrid suggested, was probably why they had baulked at the thought of carrying out their threats, and why they had, in the end, gone away. Nevertheless, I wanted to be sure.
‘Were any of Robert’s knights among them? Did they come bearing the black-and-gold banner?’
‘I think I’d have noticed if they had,’ he said. ‘Why would Robert’s men be wanting you, anyway? The last I heard, you were with him fighting the rebels in the Fens.’
‘I was,’ I said, and gave a weary sigh as I hesitated, trying to work out how I was to explain everything that had happened.
He eyed Eithne and Godric. ‘Who are they? You’re not bringing in waifs and orphans, are you? The harvest was barely large enough to fill our storehouses. We’ll struggle to keep ourselves fed through the winter as it is without another two hungry young mouths eating our bread and guzzling our ale.’
‘Peace, Galfrid,’ I assured him. ‘I’ll give you all my news in time, just as soon as we’ve stabled our horses and had something to eat. We’ve been on the road for ten days and we’re famished.’
‘Tancred!’
I turned to find Erchembald, the priest, hustling towards us, raising the hem of his robe so that it didn’t trail in the mud. He was stoutly built but not fat, with hair that was greying at the temples and a youthful face that belied his years, of which he reckoned he had nearly forty behind him. I slid down from the saddle and embraced him.
‘God be praised that you’re here at last, and unharmed too,’ he said. ‘We feared some ill fate might have befallen you, or was about to. Did Galfrid tell you-?’
‘He did,’ I said.
‘What does it all mean?’ he asked, his brow furrowed. ‘What business did those knights have with you, and what’s happened to you? You look like someone dragged you backwards through a briar patch. Where have you been?’
I felt the weight of their questioning gazes resting upon me, and realised that this could not wait. They
