one hundred miles according to his reckoning. I could not dispute that but I knew that it would take us across the most unforgiving of country, over wet and windswept fells, through steep and stony vales and high and desolate passes: hard going for even the toughest of men and animals. To tell the truth I was not looking forward to it, and neither were most of Robert’s men. The pall of the battle in Mechain still hung over us; even after a day’s rest in Scrobbesburh we were all still saddle-sore from the march into Wales and the forced retreat.
The sun climbed higher; the day grew warmer. As midday approached and there was still no sign of any message from Fitz Osbern, slowly we began to relax our pace. If Robert was relieved, he did not show it, but among the rest of the men spirits seemed to be lifting, for the first time in several days. We paused for a while by a brook to fill our wineskins and give our animals drink, and to give our backs and arses a rest for the first time since we had woken.
At one time there appeared a faint cloud of dust as might be kicked up by passing hooves, about a mile to our rear. They were too far off for any of us to make out any figures, but whoever it was always seemed to keep their distance, never growing any closer, and so it seemed unlikely that they were riders sent to pursue us. More probably that dust-cloud belonged to mere travellers, although these were dangerous times to be upon the roads. Indeed that day we had come across very few of the kind of folk one might usually expect to find: cowherds and gosherds driving their animals to market; monks on their way from one convent to another; or merchants and pedlars such as Byrhtwald. I wondered where he was by now, and when and if I would next see him.
Not much later we found ourselves riding through dense woods of oak and hornbeam, elm and birch. Whoever held these lands had been neglecting his responsibilities, for the track looked as though it had not been cleared in many months. In some places it was so boggy and thick with mud that no cart stood a chance of making it through; in others it was overhung by so many boughs or choked with such dense clusters of nettles that it was almost impossible to see in which direction it was supposed to lead.
‘We’ll have to find another way,’ I said. We had spent the better part of half an hour hacking with our knives at the undergrowth, taking saws and axes to fallen branches, to little avail. The path had grown steadily narrower as it delved deeper in the woods until I began to suspect that it was nothing more than a deer track.
‘We must have lost the road some time ago,’ said Robert, red-faced from exertion and frustration. We had been following one of the old Roman roads, which were usually well frequented, so that it was never hard to find someone who knew the way to wherever one was going. Except that this day they had been particularly quiet, and those we occasionally spotted in the distance took flight at the very sight of so many armed men. Thus when the road appeared to fork unexpectedly we had nothing but our own judgement to rely upon. Or rather Robert’s, since he had decided he knew better than the rest of us. And it was his pig-headedness that had brought us here.
‘I saw a manor upon the hill before we entered these woods,’ Beatrice spoke up. ‘We could ride back and ask if anyone knows the way.’
‘And while we’re there, we can give their lord some advice on how to manage his lands and keep the ways clear,’ Pons muttered.
That got a murmur of approval, and in truth Beatrice’s was as good an idea as anyone had thus far suggested. Grudgingly Robert agreed. Following our own trail of hewn nettles and horse dung, we wound our way back along the path, leading our animals in single file, until I felt I was beginning to recognise where we were. We had wasted a good hour or more, but if we could find the road again, it would not matter.
Serlo was telling some long-winded joke involving a washerwoman, a nun and an alewife, though it was hard to follow what he was saying for he was some way behind me. From the tone of his voice I guessed he was nearing the end, when suddenly Robert gave a shout from the head of the column. I craned my neck to see what was happening.
He stood by the edge of the path, holding aloft a leather bottle. ‘Did one of you drop this earlier?’
All my provisions were safely stowed in the panniers on our packhorse. I had taken care to check that the harness was securely fastened when last we stopped. There was little chance that anything could have dropped while we were riding. I glanced over my shoulder at my two knights; they both shrugged.
‘Any of you?’ Robert asked, clearly growing frustrated. ‘Ansculf? Tancred?’
We had all halted by then, but we were so strung out along the track that not all of those in the rear knew what was going on.
Handing the reins of my horse to Cnebba, who was walking ahead of me in the column, I trudged through the mud towards him. ‘Where did you see it?’
‘Lying beside that clump of bracken,’ he said as he tossed it to me, pointing to a spot about five paces off the path.
I turned the bottle over in my hands. It felt light and when I shook it I could hear the barest splash of liquid inside, whereas we had filled ours not long ago. Unless someone had been especially thirsty — clearing the path had not been easy work, after all. . yet no one wanted to claim it.
The air was still. Everyone had fallen quiet, and there was only the faint sound of wasps buzzing and birds chirping. I glanced around at the trees, searching deep into the heart of the wood, for what I did not know, but for some reason suddenly I felt cold.
‘I don’t like this,’ I said. ‘We should keep moving. We need to get out of these woods as soon as we can.’
Robert nodded and gave the order. Heart thumping, I hurried back to Cnebba.
‘What is it?’ Serlo asked as I took the reins.
‘Keep a lookout,’ I said as I kicked on. ‘Tell me if you see-’
Even before I could finish, it happened. A flash of gleaming steel, it flew from out of the trees to my flank and it flew true, burying itself in Cnebba’s chest, transfixing him where he stood in front of me. He was dead before he hit the ground. Where only a moment ago there had been silence, now the air was filled with whistling shafts, the shouts of men and the whinnying of horses. Spooked, my rouncey reared up.
‘Ride,’ I yelled, and up ahead I could hear Robert doing the same: ‘Ride, ride!’
My steed’s hooves came crashing down, and I swung up into the saddle, digging my heels in, wishing that it was even-tempered Nihtfeax beneath me instead, but one of Robert’s stable-hands had him. Another cluster of silver points shot overhead and I ducked low, trying to avoid them. Whether the others were behind me I did not know, but there was no time to check.
Up ahead, Beatrice was shrieking, desperately trying to control her palfrey. A feathered shaft protruded from the animal’s hindquarters; blood, thick and dark, was gushing down its coat. All of a sudden its legs gave way and she was pitched forward with a cry, landing in the mud amidst the ferns. The men around her clearly cared more for their own lives, however, since they did not stop, but rode and ran past her as if she were not there.
‘Beatrice!’ Robert said, pulling hard on the reins and turning, drawing to a stop. But at least four of his knights lay dead already, their corpses strewn across the path, and we would lose many more if we did not keep moving.
‘Go,’ I shouted, waving to him as I jumped down from my mount and sprinted to his sister’s side. She had fallen badly; by the looks of it she had twisted her ankle and also hurt her wrist, but somehow I had to get her away from there. Above all the noise, I began to make out the beating of weapon-hafts upon shields.
‘Take my hand,’ I said to her. ‘Take it now.’
Her eyes were filled with fear and shock, but she had enough presence of mind to do as I said. I helped her to her feet, at the same time unslinging my shield from where it hung across my back, working my arm through the straps and raising it high to fend off any shafts that might come our way. It was not much protection, especially for two people, but it would have to do.
‘Come on,’ I said as I put my arm around her waist to hurry her along.
Within a few steps I saw that it was no use. She had hurt her foot too badly and could barely walk; all she could manage was a half-hobble, half-stumble, and we were in danger of being left behind to the mercy of whoever was attacking us.
‘Beatrice!’ Robert was fighting the tide of men, though the path was not really wide enough to allow it, riding back towards us even as his knights tried to make for safety. But he was still some way off, and I couldn’t wait for him to reach us.
Hearing hooves behind me, I glanced up and saw Pons riding past. I called his name; he halted and looked down.
‘Lord?’
