the south, watching for an army, not for a small band like us.’
I glanced at the others, to see what they thought.
‘I agree,’ Godefroi said.
Radulf shrugged, as if indifferent, and I wondered if he had been listening at all. He had better be concentrating, I thought, since otherwise he was likely to get himself killed here tonight, if not the rest of us as well.
‘Philippe?’ I asked.
‘If the wharves are closed to us, I don’t see we have any other choice,’ he replied.
That was as much agreement as it seemed I was going to get.
‘Very well,’ I said, scrambling to the stern. On the way I picked up one of the oars, which I used as a paddle to steer us out of the midstream, closer to the southern shore, where the branches of low-hanging pine trees would offer us some cover. Then I let us drift once more, only using the oar when the current took us too close to the bank, or too far from the trees.
The city loomed closer with each passing moment. Somehow by night it appeared far larger than it had done by day. So forbidding were the shadows that I found it hard to believe that this was the same place where I had spent my recovery all those weeks ago.
Slowly, taking care not to make a sound, I buckled my sword-belt to my waist, then made sure that my mail was hidden beneath my cloak as we approached the walls: banks of earth with a timber palisade running along the top. I looked up, but I could not see any men there. God was with us.
I steered the boat towards the reeds, breathing as lightly as I could, thinking with every slightest splash that we would be heard. The prow slid amongst the first of the tall stems, which rustled gently. By now I could see nothing beyond the clumps of reeds that were in front, behind, all around us. I wanted to get us as close in as I could, so that we had less ground to make on foot, and I steered us towards where I thought they seemed least dense. In the darkness, however, it was difficult to tell, and before long I could feel the bottom of the hull scraping against the riverbed, until, a few moments later, the boat gave a shudder as it ground to a halt. I tried to paddle further, in case this were merely a shallow patch with open water beyond it, but it was no use.
‘We’ll have to walk from here,’ I said.
I got to my feet, keeping my head low until I could be sure that there was no one watching. Some twenty paces away the ramparts rose up. I stepped outside the hull, feeling my boots sink into the soft mud, and then held out a hand as Wace passed me my shield, which I hung around my neck, over my back.
The rest followed, and we set off. The mud sucked, squelched beneath me; it was impossible to tell which parts I could trust with my weight, and so I led them carefully, thinking only about one foot following the other, testing the ground as I went. I glanced up at the ramparts, still ten paces ahead, realising just how exposed we were. This was taking too long. If anyone were to see us-
There came a stifled yell, followed by a great splash behind me and I turned to see Philippe flailing in the muddy water. He was trying to stand up, but his mail was weighing him down and his cloak was tangled about him. He was spluttering, coughing so loudly that I thought the whole city might wake.
I reached out a hand, swearing under my breath. From close by came angry quacking, followed by a clatter of wings as a flock of birds shot up into the night.
‘Philippe,’ I said. ‘Take my hand.’
It took a while for him to find it in the darkness, but at last he reached out and grabbed it. I tried to pull, but with his mail he was too heavy, and the mud and the river kept sucking him back.
‘Help me,’ I hissed to the others. ‘Someone help me.’
Wace was the first there, kneeling down beside the pool in which Philippe had fallen. ‘Your other hand,’ he said. ‘Give me your other hand.’
Together we managed to haul him out of the water and back to firmer ground, where he raised himself to his feet, still coughing up water.
‘I’m sorry,’ Philippe said, too loudly. He was dripping from his nose and his chin, and his cloak was soaked. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Shut up,’ I told him, looking again towards the palisade. ‘Shut up and keep moving.’
We went as quickly as we could after that. Thankfully the closer we came to the remains of the rampart, the easier it became to find our footing. We scrambled across, drawing our cloaks over our heads so as to be less easily seen.
‘Quickly,’ I said. The sooner we could get away from the walls, the better. Ahead a narrow alley passed between two large storehouses, and beyond it lay the city, a maze of shadows.
With every beat of my heart I thought that I would hear cries behind us, but I did not, and it wasn’t long before we had rounded those storehouses and found ourselves beneath the tower of a church. At this hour there ought to have been no one about, but nonetheless I made certain to check up and down the street before we laid down our shields and recovered our breath.
Philippe began to wring out his cloak by the corner of the tower. His mail and helmet were strewn with rotten leaves and mud, and other things he’d brought from the river.
‘Take more care,’ I said. ‘Otherwise you’re likely to get us all killed.’
But I knew that this was not the time to get angry with him. We had made it inside the city unseen, which was the first part of our task, but there was still much work to be done if we were to make Eoferwic ours.
Thirty-three
We did not stop there long. The gates were some way to the south from where we were, but how far I could not say for sure. Already as I looked towards the eastern horizon, the skies seemed lighter than before, and I knew we did not have much time. Day was approaching and soon Fitz Osbern would be leading his charge.
We set off, staying away from the main ways as much as we could, for if there was anyone about at this hour, that was where we would probably find them. In the distance, a dog barked, and its call was taken up by another. But of people there was no sign anywhere. A strange feeling came over me as we hurried through the silent streets, knowing that it would not be long before the rest of our army was here in force, before the sound of steel on steel was ringing out amidst the houses. My sword-arm itched even as I thought about it.
The moon was edging lower in the sky, almost touching the thatch of the houses by the time we saw the gatehouse ahead of us, its stonework lit by the soft glow of a brazier. In front of the gates were gathered several figures, all in shadow, all of them roaring with laughter, no doubt at some jest.
By the side of the street stood a stack of barrels, and I ducked behind them, raising a hand to the others, who were behind me. The barrels contained some kind of meat, only it seemed to have turned rancid, and some time ago as well. My nose filled with the stench of rotting carcasses, as bad as any battlefield I had known.
Breathing as lightly as I could, I crouched and peered through a gap between the barrels, towards the gatehouse. None of the Northumbrians there seemed to have heard or seen us, and for that I thanked God. There were five of them warming their hands around the brazier, but atop the gatehouse, facing the country to the south, stood two more, making seven in all. They were dressed in what looked like leather jerkins reinforced with metal studs, and each of them carried a spear, while one, who was in mail, carried a sword by his side as well, and I took him for their captain.
‘What do we do?’ Philippe asked as he wiped still more dirt from his face.
‘Nothing yet,’ I said. ‘We wait for the signal.’
Again I looked to the east, and this time I was sure dawn was breaking: the blackness receding, turning to a deep blue. By now I was beginning to grow anxious. Had something gone awry? Had the attack been called off? If so, we had no way of knowing. All we could do was wait, and then if the attack did not come, try to get out the same way that we had entered the city. Except that as soon as it was light we would easily be spotted. At some point, then, we would have to decide: whether to stay or whether to go. It was not a choice I wanted to make, for if the whole plan failed because of us then we would have to bear the king’s wrath.
My head was filled with all these thoughts when suddenly it came, blasting out from the north. The sound of war-horns. Fitz Osbern was attacking.
