‘How long will it take you to deliver your message?’ Wace asked.
‘Not long. I’d hope that we can be on our way the following morning.’
A roar erupted from across the room and I turned abruptly as a group of Englishmen slammed their cups down upon the table in front of them. One of them, a heavy-set man about the same age as myself, began to splutter, droplets spraying from his mouth, until a friend slapped him on the back. Red-faced and blinking as if in surprise, he wiped a sleeve over his dark moustache before joining the rest in their laughter. After a moment he noticed me watching and I returned to my wine.
‘I need a piss,’ Eudo announced to no one in particular. He stood up, resting a hand on the table to steady himself, and made, half stumbling, for the door. I didn’t think he had drunk so much, but when I went to pour myself a fresh cup, I found the pitcher all but empty, with only the dregs left.
‘How many cups has he had?’ I asked.
Radulf pointed to the pitcher. ‘Has he finished it?’
‘We’ll have to get another,’ Philippe said as he looked about for the innkeeper.
‘Maybe if we wait for him to return, he’ll pay for it,’ Godefroi added, grinning slyly.
I glanced at Wace, but he only shrugged. ‘I should make sure he’s all right,’ I said, standing and wrapping my cloak around me. It was still damp, despite having been hanging beside the fire, but it was better than nothing.
The chill of the air struck me as I opened the door. It was still raining, though more lightly than before. I raised my hood over my head, gritted my teeth and ventured out. The ground was slick with mud, and I took care where I trod. Water dripped from the thatch; all about large puddles gleamed in the light from the doorway.
I found Eudo by the stables around the side of the alehouse. He had one arm extended in front of him, propping himself against the wall; even above the sound of the rain I could make out the steady trickle of water on to the sodden ground.
‘Eudo,’ I said.
He kept his back to me. ‘What do you want?’
I shivered as the wind gusted again, its icy fingers grasping at my skin even through my cloak. ‘I want to talk.’
He made a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan, and I saw him fiddling with the laces on his braies before at last he turned. His face lay in shadow; there was no moon and the only light came from inside the alehouse.
‘There’s nothing to talk about,’ he slurred as he began to trudge unsteadily through the mud towards me.
‘How much have you drunk?’ I asked.
‘What does it matter to you?’ He wasn’t wearing his cloak, I noticed. He stumbled forward, his dark hair damp and matted against his head, trying to make his way around me, but I stood in his path. ‘Let me past.’ His breath stank of wine.
‘You’ve had enough,’ I said.
‘I’ll do what I want,’ he said with a snort. ‘You’re not my keeper.’
‘You’ve been like this ever since Lundene,’ I said, watching him carefully. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘You pretend to be interested but I know you don’t care.’
I felt myself tense. Whatever it was I had done, it had clearly upset him far more than I had thought. ‘That’s not true,’ I said.
‘I know you — don’t think that I don’t. I’ve known you longer than anyone. When you disappear in the middle of the night like you did in Lundene, I know there’s something not right. I know when there are things you’re not telling us.’
‘Is that what this is about?’ I asked, trying to keep the anger from my voice. Of course he was right; I hadn’t told any of them the whole story about that night. But how could he have guessed that?
He shook his head, his mouth set in disgust. ‘You’ve changed. Since Dunholm you’ve kept more and more to yourself. You talk to the priest but never tell us anything. You never tell
‘Do you think I’ve found it easy since Dunholm?’ I burst out.
He glared at me. ‘You think it’s been any easier for me or for Wace? We were all there, all of us. Not just you.’
I’d opened my mouth when I stopped. So caught up had I been in my own grief that I had not understood how much Lord Robert’s death had affected him too.
‘What is it that you want?’ I said, more quietly. I could hear voices and the sound of footfalls upon the mud by the front of the alehouse, and I was wary of attracting too much attention.
‘I want to be in Eoferwic,’ he said. ‘I want to be killing the men who killed Lord Robert. Instead we’re here, wandering the whole damned kingdom after this priest, and I’m tired of it.’
I remained quiet for a moment as I thought of Eadgar, remembered the promise I had made to him outside Eoferwic’s walls. The promise that I would kill him. The fingers on my sword-hand itched even as I thought of it. And so I knew how Eudo felt. But I knew, too, that until we had fulfilled our service to the vicomte, vengeance would have to wait.
‘It’s our duty to Malet,’ I said.
‘No.’ He jabbed a finger at my face. ‘It’s
I waited in case there was more to come, but there was not. The night was quiet; the rain had eased and was now little more than a steady drizzle.
‘Leave, then,’ I said. ‘Take your horse and ride back to Eoferwic, or wherever you want to go. Take Wace with you. If it’s silver that you’re after, there’ll be plenty of lords willing to pay.’
He took a pace back. ‘No one’s leaving,’ he replied. ‘Maybe you think you don’t need our help at the moment, but you will. Just try to trust us from now on.’
He shouldered his way past, back towards the common room, and this time I didn’t attempt to stop or follow him. Probably he needed a while to gather himself, I decided. At the same time I didn’t want to see his face again so soon. I was angry with him, yes, but there was something else as well: something in what he’d said that had struck me, though I could not place it exactly.
I waited until he had gone back inside and then turned in the opposite direction, towards the stables. Within, my horse was gorging itself on a sack of grain which had been left hanging on the inside of the door, and which was now less than half full. I looked about for the stable-boy, but he was not to be seen. Cursing his carelessness, I lifted the sack down. If the horse overate then he was likely to develop colic, in which case I could well find myself having to find another mount come the morning, for this one would be dead.
I placed the sack on the ground outside the stall and rubbed his muzzle before bolting the door again and checking on the others, making sure that the stable-hand had not left any more feedbags out, but he had not. I would mention it to the innkeeper, and if the boy got a beating as a result, it was no less than he deserved.
I crossed the yard back towards the common room, which was even more full than it had been when I had left. Every one of the men who lived in this village must have come here, I thought, all of them reeking of wine and ale, sweat and dirt.
Eudo was sitting with the rest of the party by the fire. As I approached, the innkeeper’s wife was bringing them another two large pitchers of wine, each one full to the brim, to join the three which were already there. She set them down; Radulf held up a silver penny towards her, but as she held out her hand to receive it, he tossed it to the floor, where it fell amidst the rushes. A roar of laughter went up from Godefroi and Philippe, who began banging their fists on the table. The woman blushed deep red as she got on her knees to retrieve the coin.
Aelfwold rose suddenly. ‘You heartless …
I rushed over and knelt down beside the woman. She tried to wave me away, speaking in English as she scrabbled around on the floor, and I saw her blink away a tear. In my mind I saw my mother weeping in much the same way.
