we would be dead men, for once we were inside it would be hard to get out again. And the only reason that Robert was asking us was because he didn’t want to risk any of his own knights.
A sudden anger filled me. He was not my lord; I didn’t have to do his bidding. While I was prepared to ride into battle with him, help him in what way I could, as I had promised Beatrice, I wasn’t about to risk my life on some fool’s errand for him, whom I barely knew.
I turned away, back to my horse. ‘Find someone else, lord.’
‘You know the city,’ he called after me. ‘My own men do not. I would not ask this otherwise.’
I ignored him as I swung up into the saddle and gripped the reins.
‘I will see that you are well rewarded,’ he said. ‘I can give you silver, gold, horses, whatever you wish.’
I was about to dig my heels in and ride back to camp when I stopped. The wind blew; above my head the branches creaked.
‘What about land?’ I asked. In all the years that I had served his namesake, Robert de Commines, that was one thing he had never given me. A manor of my own, that I could call home, with a hall and a gatehouse and retainers to serve me as I served him. Since the day he had given me command of one of his conrois, that was what I had dreamt of, more than anything else. To become a lord in my own right.
‘If that is what you desire, I will see to it, for you and your comrades.’
I regarded him for a moment, wondering if he meant it seriously, and he watched me in turn. ‘I have your word?’ I asked.
‘You have my word.’
‘I will have to ask my men first.’
‘Of course,’ he replied. He mounted his horse; we rode back to the camp in silence. In truth I was somewhat disappointed in myself, as it dawned upon me how easily I had been bought. It was not that I thought I ought to have asked for more, but rather that I had given in at all. For land, to a great family such as the Malets, was like bread: they had enough that they could afford to give it freely.
But he had made the offer, and I could not deny that it was one worth fighting for. And all we had to do was make it through this night.
Thirty-two
The others took some convincing at first, most especially Wace, who like me was reluctant to risk his neck on Robert’s behalf. But once I told them of the reward he had promised, it wasn’t long before they agreed to the plan.
Thus it was that as the moon approached its highest we readied ourselves to ride out, donning mail and helmets, fastening our sword-belts to our waists, looping shield-straps over our heads. Around us the whole camp was rising; everywhere men were seeing to their horses, or kneeling in private prayer. A priest was doing the rounds of the men, hearing confession from those who wished it, and I heard him murmur back in Latin as he absolved them of their sins.
How I wished for such consolation then, but I knew we didn’t have the time. Already I could see gathering the men whom the king had chosen for the attack upon the rebels’ camp, although it seemed to me it was far more than a thousand, for when all the spearmen and archers were added to the knights it looked as if nearly half our army was there. We were to go with them, and that meant we had to leave shortly. They had many miles yet to cover if they were to cross the river and reach Eoferwic before dawn, which by now could be but a few hours away.
Tiredness clutched at my eyes. I had not slept much, for every time I had tried, I saw only Dunholm and the faces of my comrades rising before me. My leg throbbed where I had taken that blow, though I had not thought about it in some time. While the wound had all but healed, the scar remained, and buried in it was the memory of my failure. This would be the first true battle I had fought since then.
We were leaving our destriers at the camp, since we had no need for them, and saddled the rounceys instead. They had done us good service so far; now they only had to take us a few miles more.
Robert came over just as we were about to leave. Like us he was dressed in his mail, and his helmet-strap was tied, though his ventail was open, the flap of mail hanging loose by his neck. Certainly he looked formidable, if not entirely comfortable. But then not all men were born to be warriors. He was here not from a desire to fight but rather out of duty, to his father and to his king, and that was as much to be respected.
‘We will bring your horses,’ he said. ‘As soon as the gates are open, look for us. There is a place for each of you in my conroi.’
I thanked him and he smiled, but it was a weak smile, and one that betrayed his anxiety. ‘God be with you.’
‘And with you,’ I replied.
With that we spurred our mounts into action, riding out beyond the camp to where a mass of horses and men were assembling, under a banner which displayed a white wolf on a crimson background. I recognised it as belonging to Guillaume fitz Osbern, of all men in England and Normandy perhaps the closest to the king. I had met him more than once at the royal court, and knew how capable he was as a commander, for he had led the right wing of our army at HAestinges: the very wing on which we had fought. He had a reputation as a hard man, though thankfully I’d never incurred his wrath.
He sat mounted on a grey horse at the head of the host, marshalling men, surrounded by other lords, and I knew them for such because their scabbards were inlaid with precious stones, their helmets rimmed with gold. Probably many of them had never faced a proper battle before, or at least if they had, then they had stayed some way back from the real fighting. Otherwise they ought to have known that such things only marked them out to the enemy and so made them easier to kill. Whatever wealth they had, it counted for nothing on the field of slaughter.
I tried to force my way through the crowd, towards Fitz Osbern himself, hoping he might recognise either myself or Wace or Eudo, though the last time we had met with him we had been in the company of Earl Robert, and I was not sure whether he would recall our faces.
‘Lord,’ I called. Men on foot were in the way, but I kept riding forward and they soon moved aside, albeit not before cursing me.
He turned in his saddle, and his gaze fell upon me. ‘What is it?’
‘We are the men Robert Malet has sent,’ I said.
He glanced at each of us in turn. ‘You are the ones who will be opening the gates?’
‘That’s right.’
I gave him our names, though he did not appear to be interested. ‘Six of you,’ he said. ‘I was given to believe that it would not be as many.’ He sighed. ‘It matters not. There is a boat waiting by the river for your use. It is a small craft, but it ought to be enough for your purposes-’
He turned suddenly as a call came from behind him and another man rode up, flanked by two knights on either side. Fitz Osbern headed towards them as if he had already forgotten us, leaping down from the saddle just as the other man did the same. The two embraced, and it was then that I saw the banner — the lion of Normandy — carried by one of the knights, and realised that the other man was no less than the king himself.
He was then about forty or so in years, tall and set like an ox, with a thick neck and a powerful sword-arm that I knew had sent many foes to their deaths. His eyes were shadows beneath stern eyebrows and his face was drawn, but he bore himself with confidence, as a king should. It was the first time I had seen him at close hand, and though I had stood before many nobles over the years, I could not help but feel awed by him. For this was the man who by his will and his vision had brought us here, to England, and won us this kingdom. The man who had gone against the usurper in battle, though the numbers had not favoured him, and who had defeated him.
Hurriedly I signalled to the others to dismount, for it was not right to remain mounted when the king himself was standing. The two broke off their embrace and strode towards us.
‘My lord king, these are the men who will be opening the gates for you,’ Fitz Osbern said.
I had enough presence of mind to kneel. King Guillaume towered over me, all six feet of him, and I met his eyes, glimpsing the fire contained within. Quickly I bowed my head. It was often said that the king was prone to
