Sworn Sword

because he was angry or rather due to the mead I was not sure.

‘Three pounds,’ Eudo translated, a little unnecessarily, for though I knew little of the English tongue, I had understood that much.

‘Threo pund,’ Ligulf said again. His breath smelt stale as he strode up to me, waving his flagon in my face. Mead dripped from his beard on to his paunch.

I spat on the ground and made to walk away, but he hurried after me and in the end settled for taking just two pounds, which was still far too much for what they were worth, but it seemed the best price we were going to get. In any case Eudo was right: all they had to do was get us to Lundene.

I left him there to watch over our purchases while I rode down to the shore to gather the others and to say our farewells to the shipmaster. We were not far from where the Humbre emptied into the German Sea, and the smell of the ocean filled my nose. Several dozen figures had flocked around the ship, which I saw had been dragged high up the beach, over the wrack that covered the stones, above the tideline. There was no wharf at Suthferebi but rather a wide expanse of sand, pebbles and mud that separated land from river. Several other vessels were drawn up there, from the rowboats that probably belonged to fisherfolk, to others with high sides and broad beams, which I took to be the ferry craft that, Aelfwold told us, gave the place its name. But none of those was nearly as big as Wyvern, and clearly that was what had attracted the townspeople’s interest: they understood that a ship of her size meant wealth. Not that we had much to sell them; she was built for war rather than for carrying goods, and besides, we had left Eoferwic in such a hurry that we carried little beyond the provisions we needed.

Water dripped off the ship’s exposed hull, and as I rode closer I could see places where the keel and garboard strake had splintered when we had nearly run aground. The shipmaster was walking around the ship, inspecting each one of the planks that made up the hull. I left my horse to graze on the bank above the beach and strode down to meet him, feeling my boots sink into the gravel. The wind was blowing strongly now and the skies were turning grey. Drizzle hung in the air and I felt its cold moisture on my cheeks.

‘Aubert,’ I called.

He raised his head, saw me and beckoned me over.

‘Is there any lasting damage?’ I asked, slipping back into the Breton tongue. I knew that I might not have the chance to use it again for some time.

‘Just a few scrapes and scratches,’ he replied. Absently he ran his hand along one of the timbers and picked off a splinter. ‘She’ll still float.’

‘That’s good to hear.’

‘Aye, although it will be better still if we can get some good news from Eoferwic in the next few days.’

‘And if you don’t?’

‘If the signs are bad, we’ll sail down to Lundene,’ he said. ‘We might see you there.’

‘You might,’ I said, though in truth I wasn’t sure whether he would. Once we had been to Wiltune I didn’t know where we would be going.

He glanced up the beach, in the direction of the town, and nodded towards my mount, which was grazing upon the bank. ‘Are you leaving now?’

‘We are,’ I said. ‘The day is wearing on and we need to go soon if we’re to have any chance of reaching Lincolia tonight.’

He looked up towards the sun, which was obscured behind the thickening clouds to the south and west. ‘You’ll be doing well if you make it that far.’

I shrugged. ‘We can but try. Otherwise, we’ll find an alehouse to overnight in.’

‘Take care on the roads,’ Aubert said. ‘These have always been lawless parts in my experience, and most people here have little love for Frenchmen either, so be safe.’

‘And you too.’ I clasped his callused palm. ‘May we meet again soon.’

‘May we meet again soon,’ he replied, and smiled.

I saw Aelfwold speaking with a group of the townsmen not far off, and waved to catch his attention. He raised a hand in acknowledgement, made his apologies and broke off from his conversation, before calling to Wace and Radulf, Godefroi and Philippe, who were all standing with Elise.

Beatrice was not with them, but then I saw her down by the shoreline, away from the crowd. She was gazing out across the river to the north, her face falling into sharp shadow as the sun emerged briefly from behind a cloud. There was a keen wind blowing in from the sea; it tugged at her dress, and I wondered that she was not cold. I made my way across the beach towards her, the stones crunching beneath my feet.

She must have heard me, for she glanced over her shoulder, long enough to see that it was me, before turning back to face the river. ‘What do you want?’ she asked.

‘We’re leaving,’ I said. ‘Gather your belongings.’ What she had said on the ship was still fresh in my mind and I was not inclined that morning to be deferential, even if she was the daughter of my lord.

She did not reply, though I knew she was listening. She had taken her shoes off and the waters lapped at her feet. Her long toes were pink with the cold, glistening wet where they protruded from beneath the hem of her skirt, which was likewise damp.

I picked up her shoes from where they lay, beside a gnarled log that must have washed up with the last tide, and held them out to her. ‘Put these on,’ I said.

She snatched them from my grasp and clutched them to her chest as she sat down upon the log, glaring at me all the while, before finally doing as I’d asked. I held out a hand to help her up, but she ignored it.

‘I can manage by myself,’ she said, almost spitting the words as she rose and hustled past me, following the others up the beach towards the town.

For a moment I watched her walk away, wondering why she was being so difficult. Inwardly I was dreading the thought of the week to come, for it would take that long for us to reach Lundene. Whether I could keep my temper with the ladies for that long I did not know.

I went to round up my horse, who was still grazing upon the bank, though he had wandered a short way downwind. As I climbed up into the saddle, I paused to gaze back down at the ship. Aubert saw me and waved one last time; I returned the gesture before at last pressing my spurs in.

We made good progress over the days that followed. Each morning we rose at first light, while each evening we stayed on the road until almost dark. Though the mounts we had purchased were not as strong as the warhorses with which I was familiar — they couldn’t be pushed too hard or too long — we were still, I reckoned, able to make between twenty and thirty miles each day.

We overnighted in alehouses to begin with, and there were many of them, since this was the old road from Lundene to the north of the kingdom. But while the innkeepers we met were happy enough to take our coin, I was wary of bringing too much attention upon ourselves. A party of just seven men and two women, with horses and silver to spare, would not go unnoticed. Everywhere we heard stories of Frenchmen being set upon out on the roads: merchants and knights and even monks killed not for what they carried but for who they were. Though I tried not to set much store by such rumours, it was not only my own safety that I had to consider, and so after a couple of nights we took to camping in the woods.

Elise did not like the idea of sleeping in the wild, and while the rest of us set up tents and built a fire, she complained loudly of the cold, the damp, the wolves that she had heard howling up in the hills. This was not how a vicomte’s wife should live, she said; her husband would not be happy when he came to hear how she had been treated. She soon fell silent when I made it clear we wouldn’t be going any further, but as we set off the next day she began again, and when later that morning we stopped by a stream to refill our wineskins, I saw the irritation in the faces of the other knights. Only Wace seemed unperturbed, and Beatrice, who accepted everything with a quiet dignity that I could not help but admire. Even Aelfwold seemed to be growing weary, especially when Elise suggested that the priest was taking my side, at which point he spoke a few words in her ear. What he said I could not hear, but inwardly I gave my thanks to God, for thereafter she stayed quiet.

The next night we spent in a clearing a short way south of the town of Stanford. Aelfwold and the two ladies were already in their tents, though it had been dark but an hour or so. The rest of us were sitting around the fire, eating from our shields laid across our laps.

No one had said anything in a while, when Eudo delved into his pack and brought out a wooden pipe, about two hands’ spans in length and with half a dozen holes along its length. His flute, I realised, with some surprise; it was a long time since I had heard him play.