many of them had been there at Dunholm, I wondered; how many of my comrades had died on their blades?
We drew to a halt as Eadgar strode forward from his lines, flanked by four of his huscarls. Malet nodded to? lfwold and myself, to Gilbert who was riding a short way behind and one of his knights, and we dismounted. The? theling had taken off his gilded helmet and for the first time I saw his face. His eyes were dark and his lips thin, while his hair, the colour of straw, fell raggedly to his broad shoulders. He was said to be only seventeen in years, which made him hardly more than a boy, but he did not look it, for he was sturdily built, with arms like a smith’s, and there was a confidence in his manner that belied his age.
This, then, was the man who was responsible for what had happened at Dunholm. For the deaths of Lord Robert and Oswynn and all my comrades. My heart was pounding and beneath my helmet I felt sweat forming on my brow. How easy would it be, I wondered, to pull my blade from its scabbard, to take Eadgar by surprise and cut him down where he stood?
Yet even as the thought came to me, I knew I could never manage it without his huscarls reaching me first. Fighting peasants was one thing, but these were experienced warriors, and four men to my one. And vengeance was worth nothing if it cost me my life. I breathed deeply as I fixed my gaze upon the?theling.
‘Guillaume Malet,’ he said as he approached. ‘We meet once again.’ His voice was gruff, though he spoke French well enough — not that that was any surprise, given the time he had spent at the king’s court.
‘I didn’t think it would be so soon,’ Malet answered. ‘I’d hoped that when you skulked away last year it would be the last we saw of your wretched hide.’
But Eadgar seemed not to hear as he nodded towards the contingent of knights Malet had brought with him. ‘A formidable host indeed,’ he said, with more than a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Then his dark eyes settled upon? lfwold and he frowned. ‘What’s an Englishman doing keeping company with these sons of whores? You should be with us.’
The priest blinked as if startled. ‘He — he is my lord,’ he managed to say, shrinking back under the stare of the?theling, who was at least a head and a half taller than him.
‘Your lord? He is a Frenchman.’
‘I have served him faithfully for many years-’
Eadgar spat upon the ground. ‘No longer will I bend my knee before any foreigner. This is our kingdom, and I won’t rest until we have taken it back. Until we have driven every last Frenchman from these shores.’
‘England belongs to King Guillaume,’ Malet spoke up. ‘You know full well that the crown is his by right, bequeathed to him by his predecessor, your uncle King Eadward, and won with the blessing of the Pope. You swore to serve him loyally-’
‘And what would you know of loyalty?’ Eadgar interrupted him. ‘As I remember you used to be a close friend of Harold Godwineson. What happened to that friendship?’
I glanced at Malet, wondering if I had heard properly. What did Eadgar mean by calling him a friend of the usurper? The vicomte’s cheeks reddened, though whether from anger or embarrassment I could not tell.
Eadgar was smirking now, clearly enjoying his opponent’s unease. ‘Is it true that the scourge of the north, the great Guillaume Malet, has a soft heart? That he feels remorse for Harold’s death?’
‘Hold your tongue,?theling, or else I will cut it out,’ said Gilbert. He rested his hand upon the pommel of his sword.
Eadgar ignored him as he advanced towards Malet. ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘did you feel the same sadness at the deaths of your own kinsmen? Did you shed a tear when you heard about Dunholm, when you heard how Robert de Commines burnt?’
At the mention of Robert I felt my blood rising, pounding in my ears, until all of a sudden the battle-rage was upon me and I could hold myself back no longer.
‘You murdered him,’ I said, striding forward. ‘You murdered him, just as you murdered Oswynn and all the others.’
‘Tancred,’ Malet said warningly, but the blood was running hot in my veins and I was not listening.
The smile faded from the?theling’s face as he turned. ‘And who are you?’
‘My name is Tancred a Dinant,’ I said, drawing myself up to my full height as I came eye to eye with him, ‘once knight of Robert de Commines, the rightful Earl of Northumbria.’
Out of the corner of my eye I saw his huscarls’ hands reach towards their sword-hilts, but I was not about to back down. Eadgar held up a hand to stop them as he stepped towards me. He was within arm’s reach now, close enough that I could see his yellow teeth, his wide nostrils; close enough that his stench, foul like fresh horse-shit, filled my nose.
‘Robert was a coward,’ Eadgar said. ‘He didn’t deserve to live.’
‘I ought to slit your throat right now for what you did.’ I jabbed a finger towards his breast.
He wrenched it away. ‘Touch me again,’ he growled, and I felt the heat of his breath upon my face, ‘and it will be your throat that’s slit, not mine.’
It was the wrong thing for him to say, for in my anger I took his words as a challenge. Before I could think better of it I raised my hands and, with all the strength I could muster, shoved him back. He staggered under the weight of his mail, struggling to keep his footing, until he came crashing down, landing on his backside in the mud.
‘You bastard,’ Eadgar said as he got to his feet, and I saw the hatred in his dark eyes. Straightaway he drew his blade, and I drew mine. His four huscarls, shields raised and spears outstretched, rushed to protect him.
I let out a laugh. ‘Are you so afraid of one man that you hide behind four of your own?’ I asked, shouting so that the rest of his retinue could hear me. ‘You’re the coward, not Lord Robert!’
‘Enough,’ I heard the vicomte shout. ‘Tancred, put your sword away.’
But the rest of our men were behind me now: jeering, throwing insults at the?theling, and I paid Malet no attention. ‘I will come for you,’ I went on, ‘and when I do, I’ll tear out your throat and sever your head, slice open your stomach and leave your corpse for the crows to feed on. I will come for you, Eadgar, and I will kill you!’
‘Tancred,’ Malet said again, more sharply this time. ‘We’re here to talk, not to fight.’
I was breathing hard, I realised, and beneath my mail my arms were running with sweat. I watched the? theling, but he clearly had no more words for me, since he remained tight-lipped. Slowly his men lowered their spears, and he sheathed his sword, and only then did my anger begin to subside. I spat on the ground before at last I turned and slid my own blade back into its scabbard.
‘That was foolish,’?lfwold said, as I made my way back. ‘You could have been killed.’
‘Just be glad that I wasn’t, then,’ I snapped. The battle-anger still lingered and I was in no mood to argue with him.
‘You should keep your dog on a tighter leash, Guillaume,’ the?theling called. ‘Otherwise sooner or later he will try to bite you too.’
‘I will deal with my men how I choose,’ the vicomte replied. ‘Now, tell me what it is you’ve come to say.’
Eadgar glared at me a while longer, but I was not to be moved. ‘As you wish,’ he said to Malet. ‘I know that neither of us wants a battle, and so I bring you this offer: surrender the city to me this evening and I will allow you and all your host safe passage as far as the Humbre.’
Of course Eadgar knew that assaulting a city was no easy undertaking, and that even if he succeeded, he would probably lose many hundreds of men in doing so. And so he presented Malet with a choice: either to stay and fight and risk his life; or else retreat in dishonour, leaving Eoferwic to the rebels, and thus invite the king’s wrath. I didn’t know which was worse.
‘And if I refuse your terms?’ Malet said.
‘Then we will take the town by force,’ the?theling replied, ‘and I shall look forward to killing you personally and taking my pleasure from your womenfolk.’
‘My lord-’ Gilbert began, but the vicomte raised a hand to silence him.
‘You think you will take Eoferwic with this rabble?’ he asked the?theling, gesturing towards the purple-and- yellow banner and the men gathered beneath it.
‘I have near four thousand men encamped to the north of here, each one of them hungry for battle,’ Eadgar said.
Malet frowned. ‘And yet I see barely one hundred here.’
‘Mock me if you wish, but I’ve seen your scouts watching us. You know I speak the truth.’
