He remained tight-lipped, concentrating on the road ahead. I wondered what was going through his mind, whether he was angry. But how could he be? He was indebted to us, whether or not he cared to admit it.
Not far off I spied the gaunt figure of Gilbert de Gand, laughing together with a half-dozen of his knights. The king had handed him the permanent role of castellan, I had learnt, with Malet returning to his duties as vicomte. Gilbert saw us, and waved in greeting. Certainly he seemed to be enjoying the new honour he had been granted, for I had rarely seen him in better humour.
Malet was clearly in no mood to speak with him then, however, as he pulled sharply on the reins, turning off the main street, his expression sour.
We passed the blackened remains of timbers strewn across a field of ash, where houses had once stood. In the wake of the battle there had been much looting, I had learnt, and many parts of the city had been burnt, including several of the churches. This was surely one of them, for amidst the ruins I glimpsed a figure dressed in brown robes kneeling upon the ground, eyes shut and palms together in prayer: a Mass-priest. I shivered, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle as I was reminded of Aelfwold, but soon the priest was lost from sight.
Overhanging the street was the great elm under which Radulf had died, its branches now dotted with purple-grey buds where new leaves were soon to emerge. He had been buried while we were gone, in the grounds of the chapel attached to Malet’s palace, as befitted a knight of his household. Others had been less fortunate, their broken bodies left to rot in great ditches dug outside the walls, where they were picked at by the dogs and the crows; we had smelt them on our approach to the city.
‘I release you from your oath, Tancred,’ Malet said as we left the crowds behind us. ‘You may consider yourself no longer bound to me. Henceforth you may take your sword where you will.’
He had not asked whether I might extend my oath to him, nor had I expected him to. Instead he was making it clear that there was no further place for me in his household. As much as I had helped him, he couldn’t afford to have among his retainers men whom he could not trust implicitly. The business with Aelfwold would have taught him that, if nothing else.
To tell the truth I was relieved to be leaving his employ, after all that had taken place these past couple of months. So much talk of intrigues and betrayals had tired me. I was a knight, a man of the sword, and I would be glad simply to return to that life once more.
‘I hear my son offered each of you land in return for your part in the battle,’ Malet said.
‘Yes, lord.’
‘Of course it isn’t for me to say what men Robert chooses to keep around him.’ His cold gaze fell upon me. ‘But he clearly trusts in your ability. I only hope that you will serve him well, should you choose to follow him.’
Better than we had served Malet himself, was what I took him to mean from that remark. The barb was not hard to miss.
‘We will, lord,’ I said. In all honesty I hadn’t given much thought to what lay ahead or to where we might go: whether we would stay here in England, or return instead to France or Italy, where there were many lords to whom we might pledge our swords. Though I suspected that few of them would be able to offer as much as Robert.
For it wasn’t just silver or land that I was thinking of; there was Beatrice too. The kiss we had shared remained fresh in my mind, even though many weeks had passed since then. I could sense her delicate touch still, the feeling of her lips upon mine. Unless I gave my oath to her brother, what chance did I have of ever seeing her again?
We drew to a halt by the bridge. Upon the river, sails of all colours billowed in the breeze. Drums beat in steady rhythm as shipmasters leant upon their tillers, bellowing orders to their oarsmen.
Across the waters a second castle was being built, opposite from the first. Already the ramparts and palisade had been erected, and a mound was under way, although no tower yet stood upon it. Even from this distance I could see men at work: sawing timbers, pushing barrows full of earth. In the centre of it all flew the wolf banner of Guillaume fitz Osbern, whom the king had placed in charge of the construction. For a long while Malet gazed at it, and I wondered what he was thinking. Overlooked for the command of not just one but two castles: a clear sign that he had fallen from the king’s favour. It did not surprise me. After all, he was the man who had allowed Eoferwic to fall to the rebels in the first place, the dishonour of which would, I imagined, remain with him for some time.
As for the king himself, it seemed he had departed some days before we had arrived back. In his absence he had left Fitz Osbern with more than a thousand men to hold the city in case the enemy should try another attack. Not that many thought they would, at least not for some time. The rebels were divided, our scouts said, for while the Aetheling himself had retreated to Dunholm, many of his followers had left him to go back to their halls. His Danish swords-for-hire had sailed back to Orkaneya and wherever else they had come from, and there were rumours of discontent among the old Northumbrian families.
Nevertheless, I knew that the year was long, the campaigning season barely begun. And as long as Eadgar lived, the English had a leader around whom they might rally. The pain of this rout would be felt for some while, but given time he could easily raise another host. I sensed that the battle for the kingdom was far from over.
‘They will return,’ Malet said, as if reading my thoughts. ‘No matter how many castles we build, how many defeats they suffer, they will not stop until they have taken England back from us.’
I shrugged. ‘In that case we must be ready for them when they come.’
A flock of gulls wheeled overhead, screeching in chorus. At the dock a sack had fallen from a cart, bursting along its seam, spilling grain on to the ground. The birds descended upon it in their scores, pecking and flapping, squabbling over every last speck of seed as deck-hands vainly tried to chase them away.
‘Indeed,’ Malet said, sighing. ‘We must be ready.’
My horse snorted impatiently and I patted his neck. We would not stay here long; soon we would be moving on to places new. That was how it was, when one lived by the sword as I did. And I knew, besides, that somewhere out there was Eadgar, the man who had murdered Lord Robert, who had murdered Oswynn, and I was determined that I would find him: that before long I would take my vengeance upon him.
I looked out across the river a moment longer, listening to the bells ringing out from the minster behind me, feeling the warmth of the sun upon my face, until a cloud came over and a shadow fell upon us. Malet did not seem to notice when I tugged on the reins, leaving him there to gaze upon the half-built castle alone.
Nor did I look back as, under darkening skies, I rode to join my friends.
