Still more had been learned from moving among them as Guy believed one of the resistance—possibly Hereward—had done here on the day past. Listening in on a conversation between Earl Morcar and Bishop Aethelwine, both having fled to the isle after falling out of favor with William, Guy had discovered though the bulk of the resistance’s defenses were this side of Ely, all other areas vulnerable to attack had been reinforced. Lest other Norman forces use the distraction of battle on the isle’s southern side to gain a foothold elsewhere, they would find themselves under attack. Further, over a dozen small towers had been erected around the perimeter to quickly communicate by way of signal fires. Hence, just as the Normans’ second assault was better planned, so was the resistance’s answer. No easy victory this day—if victory at all.
What Guy had revealed should have given William much pause. Instead, he had been as stone, though not toward Taillebois who told what his liege wished to hear—this day they would crush the resistance. That was vexing enough without further compromising the operation by launching it late in the afternoon in the belief fire loosed amid the darkening of day would strike greater fear in rebels decidedly proficient at doing the same to Normans. Therefore, what Guy and his men had gained in the time given them could prove of little use.
“Even had we only one more day, greatly we could increase our chance of ending this,” he said. “From the fall of night until dawn, I could get enough men on the isle—two and three at a time—to come at the rebels’ backs whilst they battle those crossing the river.” A growl erupted from him. “Accursed Taillebois—and De Warenne for straddling both sides of the fence!”
Maxen set a hand on his shoulder. “You have done all you can. Now we can only pray the path chosen by others will deliver us and our men alive and whole.”
Guy nodded. “I hope you are not disappointed I supported Taillebois’ bid that his men be the first to cross the new causeway.”
Maxen chuckled derisively. “I am confident those under my command could do what must be done, but I would not deny Ivo that glory if it is, indeed, glory. He is more desirous of it than I, as evidenced by the abuse dealt workers who do not move fast enough for him.”
Further reason to end the stand on Ely. For Hereward’s rebellion, the suffering innocents for whom he fought suffered more.
Guy looked around. The broad man-made hillock on which the command post was raised center and forward of the camp allowed an all-encompassing view of the forces gathering this side, the four towers, and the sections of causeway on the shore, several of which were now in the river. Beyond that expanse of water were the resistance’s shoreline fortifications.
From this side, little movement made it appear few men hunkered behind the barriers, but whilst on Ely, Guy had seen otherwise. Though their numbers were not as great as those concealed among the trees at their backs, they were of good strength, impressive arsenals, and sufficient provisions. They could not be better prepared for what was to come. And William refused to believe it.
As Guy returned his gaze to his friend, it passed over the towers to the left, and movement atop the one Taillebois’ witch was to mount swept his regard back to it.
Herba stood there, skirts fluttering in the breeze—too many skirts for one woman. Muscles gripping, he narrowed his gaze and confirmed another was on the other side of her, only her lower body visible from leaning forward to peer across the water.
“Almighty!” Guy rasped. “This is how he shall make use of her.”
“Oui,” Maxen concurred. “Ere you returned from the isle, William ordered that Lady Alvilda be visible to the enemy to further unsettle them and—”
“—keep flown fire from those towers,” Guy spoke over him. “But will it? If she is thought a traitor, being Hereward’s cousin might not save her. Indeed, he may himself order the tower fired upon and…”
Once more feeling ache in his hand as well as weighty silence, Guy did not have to look around to know what he revealed.
“I think you must find a way to save her,” Maxen said, then gripping his friend’s arm in passing, added, “Now, just as you need to make final preparations to command your men, so do I.”
As Guy watched him descend the hillock, he assured himself that though he felt for Vilda, it was not as much as his friend might believe. Beyond admiration for her strength and resolve and sympathy for the wrong done her, he did feel strong attraction and something of the heart, but only something. Regardless, the need to see her safely out of the Fens was great. Could he find a means to do so or would she be as lost to him as Elan—and in a more terrible way?
He set his teeth. If he could aid her, he would, but he must turn his efforts to scores of fellow Normans depending on his direction to save them from lives too soon sacrificed for the duke who became a king unworthy of a kingdom.
Chapter Twenty
Two blasts of the horn.
Averting her gaze from the lowering sun, those shrill notes chilled Vilda who, having passed three hours on the platform, had just allowed hope to push up through the soil of her. The heavily armed Normans arrayed this side would not be returning to their tents. Ahead lay a battle amid dusk that could become night.
However, she found good in this, and it was not inconsiderable. Better than spilled blood being less visible until morn when
