‘My Lord, Hereward is banished from England. There are many who would not welcome his presence.’
‘It is ten years since he was made an outlaw. I will recommend him to the King as part of my retinue. His banishment will be revoked; you have my word on that.’
Hereward answered for both of them. ‘My Lord, we will be honoured to serve you and return to England. We pledge ourselves to you and to the people of England with all our hearts.’
It took only a day for word to reach Hereward that Harold had secured his release from Duke William. In two days’ time they would ride north to Fecamp, where Harold’s ship was at anchor, to embark for England.
Before their departure, Hereward was summoned by William for an audience.
‘You have obviously made a good impression on the Earl of Wessex. He was most insistent that you accompany him to England.’
‘The Earl has told me that my banishment will be revoked. It is a very important opportunity for me, and I thank you for releasing me from your service.’
‘Is Normandy not to your liking? I thought I had found a warrior who would be in my service for many years to come.’
‘My Lord Duke, I hope I have served you well, but I never imagined that one day I might have the chance to return to my home.’ Hereward found himself employing a subtle feint, knowing full well that William was weighing his position and manoeuvring himself to his best advantage. ‘But I am not entirely lost to you, your Grace. If I now go into the service of the Earl of Wessex, then, in accordance with the oath you have both sworn, I will soon be returned to you. When you are made King of England, the Earl of Wessex will be your Earl Marshal. He will answer to you, as I will to him, and we will both do your bidding.’
‘I wonder about you, Hereward of Bourne. Are you far shrewder than your muscle-bound frame might suggest, or are you just well rehearsed by that clever wife of yours? You have served me well enough, but there is a reticence about you that makes me think you are not truly loyal.’
‘Your Grace, I hope that I have been diligent in my service to you. My desire to serve the Earl of Wessex is not meant to be disrespectful to you in any way, quite the opposite. I have learned much about Norman ways that will be of great benefit to the English army.’
Hereward was becoming adept at the diplomatic language of dukes and kings and hoped that William did not notice the irony of his answer.
‘Train them well; I will need a strong army to protect my northern borders against the Scandinavians. Fair winds to England; I will see you there in due course. You will be at my coronation in Westminster.’
‘Thank you, your Grace.’
As Hereward turned and reached the door of the Great Hall for the last time, he congratulated himself on the successful outcome of his verbal sparring with William. He thought he had done well in responding to William’s doubts about his sudden desire to throw in his lot with the Earl of Wessex.
However, just as he was about to step through the doorway, he was suddenly robbed of his moment of satisfaction.
‘Hereward, remember, when we meet again, I will be your King and you will be my subject. You would be wise to remember that.’
With eleven extra bodies in the Earl of Wessex’s flagship, conditions were cramped for the crossing to England.
For the children, it was their first experience under sail and a daunting one as, mid-Channel, the ship began to heave in a heavy sea. Torfida told them some of her exotic stories and Martin sang their favourite lullabies; as he sang, the entire ship’s company listened in silence. The only other sounds were the cracking of the great sail and the creaking of the vessel’s timbers as they were tossed and twisted by the waves.
For Hereward and Torfida it was a poignant moment. They had been away for a long time and were returning to a land they thought they would never see again.
For Harold, with every league they travelled, he was getting closer to a kingdom, the fate of which would soon be his to determine.
They made landfall close to the mouth of the river Rother in Sussex and, within an hour, were tying up at the small settlement of Rye in the manor of Rameslie. Men were despatched to find horses for their long journey along the Downs to Winchester, which, as it was mid-November and the wind from the west was likely to be raw, would be a demanding ride.
Traversing the Downs at speed was an exhilarating experience; even Alphonso, who did not care much for northern climes, appreciated the sense of vitality it brought. It had been agreed that Hereward and his party would stay in Bosham, the harbour settlement of Chichester, where Harold had lands and from where he had set sail for Normandy. Harold would see the King privately at Winchester, to gauge his mood and to hear his current thoughts about the succession. If the King could be persuaded to see him, Harold would send for Hereward, whose first-hand experience might persuade Edward to reconsider his nomination of William as his heir.
The two parties went their separate ways at Arundel. Harold took twelve men north-west towards Winchester, while Hereward and the rest of the retinue headed directly west on the old road to Chichester and Bosham.
To everyone’s dismay, several months passed, during which little was heard from Harold.
The inference was obvious: all was not well with the King. The winter of 1064 turned to the spring of 1065, and Hereward and his loyal band busied themselves to help the people of Bosham. Although they were guests of the Lord of the Manor, they were still a burden on the resources of the area and its people, so they dutifully bent their backs to the mundanity of agriculture and the tedium of domesticity.
To everyone’s relief, word eventually came from Harold in May. The King was to travel to London to see his new abbey church at Westminster. After many years of toil, Edward’s masterpiece, the epitome of his ambition to build a new England, was finished. The most impressive structure in his realm, it was built in the Romanesque style of his Norman kin.
Harold’s message told them to meet him in London on the first day of June. The fact that they had been summoned to London must mean that there had been a development of some kind. Hereward and Torfida travelled alone, while the others went west to Glastonbury, Harold’s seat in Wessex.
London was a thriving community within the old Roman fortress, and an important strategic stronghold. Under Edward’s influence, new houses and wharves were being built all around the old Roman city — to the east at Wapping, across the River Thames at Southwark and Lambeth, and to the west around his new cathedral at Westminster.
They had been told to meet at a large house on Ludgate Hill, the home of Edith Swan-Neck, who enjoyed the bustle of London much more than she did the sedate atmosphere of Glastonbury. Her house was a sight to behold, decorated with fine furniture, silks, tapestries and silver plate more fitting for a queen than a concubine. As her name suggested, she was statuesquely tall with a long, willowy neck. Her blonde hair was tied tightly and cascaded down the length of her back. Her svelte frame was draped in a beautiful crimson silk dress, embroidered with a fine gold border and topped by an upright collar. She had slim hips, a taut stomach — remarkable for a woman who had produced five children — and, to the fascination of everyone who saw her, prodigious breasts, accentuated by her slender build.
Edith was not self-conscious about her womanly assets. She did not try to disguise her femaleness, but was proud of her sexuality. Her face was not beautiful, but it had strikingly sensual features that struck Hereward immediately: strong cheekbones and jaw, an aquiline nose, large emerald-green eyes and full lips.
Harold greeted Hereward and Torfida, before making the introductions. Edith displayed the same flirtatiousness with Torfida as she did towards men, but Torfida responded warmly. She recognized that Edith was a woman who commanded respect and was able to hold her own in a man’s world.
‘I’m afraid I have few intellectual gifts, Torfida, but I try to make the best of the generous assets God has given me. How I wish I had been granted your marvellous blend of beauty and brains. Hereward is a lucky man…’ She grabbed both Hereward and Torfida. ‘And you’re a lucky woman; look at him, what a beast he is.’ She laughed aloud, and pulled them over to sit with her.
The four of them talked for several hours as they enjoyed good English fare and copious amounts of mead. It had been a long excursion in Normandy for Harold, and an even longer exile for Hereward and Torfida. There was much to talk about and, for the most part, it was domestic and mundane chatter.
There would be ample opportunity only too soon for a debate about the perils facing Harold and
