‘It’s the first I’ve heard of this,’ Robert muttered. ‘If it’s true then Fitz Osbern has taken leave of his senses altogether. After all, if it weren’t for the traders bringing news from their travels, we would know even less about the enemy and their movements than we do now.’ He turned again to Byrhtwald. ‘I’d worry less about the chains and more about Berengar’s sword-edge if he ever sees you again. Leave and get back to your wife and family. Otherwise, if he doesn’t kill you, the Welsh probably will.’
‘Have no fear on my account, lord,’ the Englishman replied with his usual roguish grin. ‘I’ll survive. I always have.’
I didn’t doubt that he would. In some ways he put me in mind of a rat, except twice as crafty and only half as dirty: quick enough to scurry away when he sensed danger approaching, happy enough to live off the scraps that others cast aside but careful, too, never to miss a chance to fill his stomach. Or his coin-purse, for that matter.
We made our way back to the marketplace, where a group of youths were taking advantage of Byrhtwald’s absence to search for things that they could easily steal. While one was busy stuffing his pockets with the ointment jars that lay on the ground, a tall, fair-haired girl in a tattered dress had climbed on top of the pedlar’s cart and begun passing down to her friends bundles of firewood, handfuls of candles and a brass lantern, among other things, all of which they were piling into a large sack. As soon as they saw Byrhtwald coming they fled, with the girl trying to drag the sack behind her, except they had filled it too high and it was too heavy. Before long she broke into a sprint, abandoning it as she ducked in and out amongst the animals and people, narrowly avoiding one of the other stallholders who tried to stop her. Soon I lost sight of her.
One of Robert’s men had fetched Nihtfeax; with thanks I took the reins. Byrhtwald had righted the bench that had been knocked over and was busy recovering those goods that had been purloined, loading them back on to his cart. I offered to help but he declined.
‘In that case, take care on the road,’ I said. ‘The enemy could be marching any day now.’
‘I will.’ He extended his hand, and I clasped it.
‘With any luck our paths will cross again soon.’ Though if the enemy succeeded in taking Scrobbesburh, my path might be very short indeed. Nonetheless, a small part of me sensed I would see the Englishman again before too long. He had a habit of appearing when I least expected him.
‘I’m sure of it, lord,’ Byrhtwald said.
‘Keep your wits about you,’ I said. ‘I wish you safe travels.’
‘And to you the same,’ he said. ‘Whatever happens and wherever events take you from here.’
A strange thing to say, I thought, but Lord Robert was waiting, so I bade the pedlar farewell. We led our mounts through the narrow, piss-stinking streets in the direction of the camp. This was the height of summer and the heat of the day was upon us, so intense as to be oppressive, reminding me of those long campaigns I had fought under the scorching Sicilian sun in the years before the invasion. Flies swarmed around mounds of steaming ox dung, buzzing in my face as we led our horses past. One flew into Robert’s mouth and he spat it out, his face screwed up in disgust.
After we had walked a little further, he said, ‘We’re leaving this place.’
I was taken aback, not just by the announcement but by the suddenness of it too. ‘We’re leaving?’
I wondered if that was what Byrhtwald had meant. Yet how could he possibly have known?
‘Don’t say it too loudly.’ Robert glanced about. The rest of the conroi was lagging some way behind us, laughing at some joke that one of them had heard, and save for a lone beggar sitting cross-legged by the side of the street, there was no one else close by who might have heard. ‘After I heard of Hugues’s leave-taking this morning, I made my decision. I’ve had enough of this town. All is falling apart, and Fitz Osbern seems to be doing little to repair the rot. The barons are deserting in ever greater numbers; those who remain do nothing but argue all day and fight between themselves.’
Most likely that censure was directed at me. If it was, though, he didn’t press it.
‘If we leave, lord, surely we only make things worse for those who remain. Our army is desperately short of men as it is.’
‘I didn’t come to these parts prepared for war. If I had, I’d have brought with me two hundred men at least. Instead I now have barely forty knights left under my banner, including your retinue and those of Wace and Eudo. Fitz Osbern will not trouble himself over so few, nor are they likely to make much difference when the enemy come.’
‘I suppose the Wolf took many more than that with him.’
‘Indeed,’ Robert said with a sigh. ‘In any case I’ll be damned if I’m going to risk my life and those of my men fighting in a hopeless cause. That’s why tomorrow morning before dawn we ride from here, and Beatrice as well.’
If the worst happened and the enemy captured Scrobbesburh, the town would be no safe place for a woman, even for one of high birth as she was.
‘What about her betrothal?’ I asked. ‘Fitz Osbern will not be pleased.’
‘Whether he still wishes the marriage to happen or not is for him to decide. For now, all I’m concerned about is seeing her somewhere safe.’
‘Where, lord? The Danish fleet will soon be raiding the coast along the German Sea. You can’t take her back to Suthfolc, or to your father’s house in Lundene either. If King Sweyn lands in the south and lays siege to the city she’ll be in even more danger there than she is here.’
‘I know. There’s only one place we can go where I can count on her being safe.’
He looked at me, as if expecting me to guess what he was thinking. I was not in the mood for games. ‘Tell me,’ I said.
‘Eoferwic.’
Twenty
My heart sank. Robert would take me even further away from Earnford and the Marches that were my home. From Leofrun and my firstborn child, who all too soon would be entering this world. I would not be there when it happened.
‘Eoferwic?’ I asked.
‘There’s nowhere better,’ Robert said. ‘It lies far enough from the Marches and from the Danes to be in any danger, and it’s where my father is too.’
‘What about the?theling?’ I countered. ‘If the news coming out of the north is right, he’ll be marching sooner rather than later. When he does, his mind will be set on Eoferwic.’
‘Don’t forget he was ousted from there once before, and his entire army routed too. If he has any sense in him — if he’s learnt anything — he won’t want to suffer the same reversal twice. He has spent the months since then trying to convince the Northumbrian nobles to give him their support again. Now that he has it, he won’t want to squander it.’
‘Unless his overweening pride demands that he achieves what he failed to last year,’ I said. ‘He is that kind of man: determined and ambitious.’
Robert shrugged. ‘He can try as much as he likes but he will not succeed. He won’t take the city a second time. Its walls have been rebuilt, and with two castles now defending the riverbanks, any fleet or land army would be foolish to attempt an assault.’
I wasn’t convinced of that. I had lived long enough to know it was ever dangerous to underestimate an opponent, especially when it came to ambition and resourcefulness: two qualities I knew Eadgar did not lack.
‘You can’t assume that the?theling will abandon his journey simply because the road is difficult,’ I said. ‘He might be young but he is arrogant. He’d rather take the riskier route if the prize on offer is great enough. You haven’t met him, but I have, and I know.’
Indeed Eoferwic was a jewel to be prized: the greatest and most prosperous of all the towns in the north of the kingdom, second only to Lundene in the whole of England. With that in mind, it seemed to me unlikely that Eadgar would be deterred by the fact of the ditches having been dug a little deeper and the ramparts built another few feet higher. He had come close to succeeding before, and now that the king’s forces were spread even more
