‘You have been a steadfast ally, Tancred, and I thank you.’ His face creased in pain and he began to cough: a dry, hacking sound that signalled he did not have much longer.
‘Rest,’ I said to him. ‘Save your strength.’
His retainers were crowding close around us, and I made way for them. Better that they were the ones with whom he spent his final moments: his loyal hearth-companions, the ones who had chosen to follow him into exile rather than bend their knee before the usurpers, who had been with him all these years. Besides, I had seen too much death that day, and had no wish to witness any more. Not since H?stinges could I recall so many having fallen so quickly.
I’d not known the Welsh brothers long, and yet somehow I had come to feel a sort of kinship with them. Yes, they were ambitious and headstrong, as men of high birth often are, and forthright with their opinions. Nevertheless, in many ways it was because of those things, rather than for their fearlessness or prowess at arms, that I had come to respect them, not least because I recognised many of those same traits in myself.
Which was why, when the news eventually came that Maredudd had passed away, a deep-rooted chill came over me, a chill that made its way into my bones and gripped my very soul. For I knew that it could so easily have been me.
We travelled quickly in spite of the difficult terrain. For all that he had said about the men being too tired and hungry to fight, Earl Hugues pushed them hard.
More than once that day we saw bands of enemy advance riders trailing us, though they rarely came any closer than a couple of miles. They moved quickly, being lightly armed with only helmets for protection. The Wolf and Robert sent conrois out to pursue them, hoping that they would kill or capture a few, but they never did. The enemy were too quick, either disappearing into the cover provided by the dense woods, or else, if they found themselves in open country, splitting up into smaller groups and scattering in all directions so that our men could not follow them. But then those bands had no intention of meeting us directly. They meant only to harry us, to keep us always looking over our shoulders, and in both of those aims they succeeded. And so each time our conrois returned empty-handed.
In all that time the Wolf said nothing to me. In fact he spoke little to anyone, instead choosing to press on ahead in the vanguard, single-mindedly setting the pace. His face, when he did show it, was a picture of fury. No doubt he was wondering what he would say when eventually we reached Scrobbesburh. For he was the one who would have to give the tale of our defeat to Fitz Osbern, and I did not envy him that task.
Darkness still reigned by the time we rode through the town gates the next morning. We’d marched on through the night, despite the fact that many were close to exhaustion, almost dead on their feet and in their saddles, kept going only by the threats and curses of their lords. A messenger had been sent ahead to bear the news to Fitz Osbern, who was not there to meet us when we arrived but, we were told, was waiting in his chambers at the castle. Almost straightaway the Wolf and Lord Robert were summoned to see him, but there was no word whether he wanted to see me too.
‘No doubt he will wish to hear from you in time,’ said Robert, ‘but for now it is best if you wait, and in the meantime try to get some rest. God only knows we need it.’
‘You’d have me keep quiet while the Wolf blames me for what happened?’
‘Naturally Earl Hugues will be allowed to present his story, but I know Fitz Osbern better than most; he will listen to me if he listens to anyone. He’ll see that it was not your fault. You could not have known that the Welsh would be lying in wait.’
‘The Wolf doesn’t see it that way,’ I said sourly. ‘He is an arrogant, spoilt runt who only cares for himself. The only reason anyone listens to him is because his family has wealth to spare.’
Robert fixed me with a stern look. ‘I understand that you’re angry,’ he said. ‘None of us wishes things had happened this way. But you will do yourself no favours by making an enemy of Hugues.’
‘I’m angry because many men were killed yesterday,’ I said, speaking through gritted teeth. ‘One of my own household knights was among them, and both Maredudd and Ithel too. Good warriors who did not deserve to die.’
With that I turned and walked away. There was nothing more to be discussed. Nor for that matter did I wish to speak to anyone else. I needed time alone, to gather my thoughts and work out what I would say when eventually Fitz Osbern called me to face him.
I managed to rest, though not for long, since dawn was only a few hours away. At sunrise I climbed a knoll looking out across the camp to the west and the distant hills that glowed as the first rays fell upon their slopes. Somewhere beyond them Bleddyn and Eadric were lurking; before long they would be marching, and what might happen then only God could know.
I was still sitting there, lost in thought, when Beatrice found me. She came alone, save for her maidservant Papia, who was waiting with her horse a short way off.
‘I suppose your brother sent you,’ I said without so much as offering a greeting.
She did not bridle at my rudeness, as I might have expected, or at least if she did she was careful not to show it. If truth be told I had not slept well, and my ire from the previous night had hardly diminished.
‘No, he didn’t,’ she said. ‘When I heard what happened I thought you might wish to talk to someone. I found your men sharpening their swords but they didn’t know where you had gone.’
‘You came looking for me?’
‘Would you prefer that I hadn’t?’
I wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or thankful, but settled for the latter. For once I was glad to have some company. Had I been back in Earnford there would have been Leofrun to comfort me, or else I could have spoken with Father Erchembald. Here, though, surrounded by all these strange faces and by so many men who seemed to bear grudges against me, I felt alone in a way that I had not known before.
‘No,’ I said at last. ‘I’m glad you came.’
She seated herself on the damp grass next to me, folding her skirts neatly beneath her. ‘Earl Hugues has taken his leave of us, you’ll be pleased to hear.’
‘So I’ve been told.’
He had departed shortly before I had risen, so early in fact that few had seen him go. There was trouble in Ceastre, where the townspeople had risen against the Wolf’s steward. The story was that his knights had beaten and imprisoned the city’s port-reeve and cut off his right hand when they found he had been allowing merchants to use the old silver in the market: the coins that bore the name of Harold the usurper. Blood had been spilt on both sides as the townsmen fought the knights in the streets, and now the garrison was trapped in the castle, under siege and in desperate need of relief. Whether that was the whole reason for his leave-taking, or whether there had been some quarrel between the earl and Fitz Osbern during their meeting last night, no one knew.
‘As Robert tells it, there was some disagreement between you and the earl,’ Beatrice said.
I gave a laugh, though I did not feel much cheered. ‘That’s one word for it, I suppose.’
‘You must be relieved to see him gone.’
In all honesty my feelings were mixed. In spite of my dislike of him, he’d brought men to our cause, and I was only too aware of the difficulties his sudden departure brought upon us. For with him he had taken more than half his knights, and nearly as many foot: a little less than four hundred spears in all. Four hundred that we could not afford to spare.
‘I don’t know,’ I said, and it was the truth. ‘I don’t trust him, and yet without the men he commands, what chance do we have of defending Scrobbesburh?’
‘There is talk that some of the other barons might desert. Having seen the Wolf ride away to defend his possessions and his home, many are now thinking of doing the same.’
I made a noise of disgust and shook my head. Nothing was going as it should do. This realm that we had fought so hard these last four years to forge was falling apart, breaking into splinters.
‘Can you blame them?’ she asked. ‘Like you, they have lost some of their ablest and most faithful retainers, their best warriors. If they stay and fight, they stand to lose even more.’
‘And yet if they don’t, they simply make it easier for the enemy, who will overrun their manors anyway just as soon as they’ve defeated the rest of us here.’
The words, and the bitterness with which they came out, surprised even myself. After all, it wasn’t so long ago that I had shared their fears, been reluctant to leave the people and the place I had come to know so well. What had changed? Was it that I had now seen with my own eyes the threat we faced? Or was it because I sought
