Hereward’s mind was racing, realizing what the implications of William’s move might be. ‘That can only mean he’s looking for Edgar and is a day ahead of us. He must have heard that he is not with the Scots and realized that he is in hiding in the North. By the time we’re ready, we’ll have lost another day. Then we have a day’s riding east or west before we turn north; that means he’s got three days on us — ’
Einar interrupted. ‘We can get to him in time if we’re a small enough group and don’t mind a bit of snow and hard toil. There is a route up the watershed of the Pennines. There are some high traverses, but it’s not impossible.’
‘How many men?’
‘Twenty, no more. Two horses each, no baggage.’
‘Not many of us if we stumble across two thousand Normans!’
‘The Normans won’t be able to go where we’re going.’
‘We must make haste. Alphonso, you take charge of the camp, organize a series of wide-ranging patrols. I don’t care how bad the weather is, they’re to go as far east as Skipton, west to Preston, south around Pen Hill to the valleys beyond and the settlement at Burnlea, and north over Bowland Trough to the old road at Lancaster. If any Normans come close to Clitheroe Hill, break camp immediately and go north, high into the Pennines, taking only what a horse will carry. Send word of your final destination; we will come and find you. There’s much to do. Let’s get moving.’
Einar led the small troop of men on his hazardous path through the heart of the Pennines. The route went due north; the snow was deep, the rivers icily cold and the wind piercing. Conditions were even worse at a gallop, when faces ached from the chill of the cold air.
It took them four and a half days before, on a bitterly cold but clear day, they crested the summit of their last high traverse and descended into the head of the valley of the Swale. The sky was sapphire blue and cloudless. But rising from the horizon, about twenty-five miles to the east, was a plume of darkness.
‘Richmond.’ It was all Einar needed to say.
Hereward turned to his men. ‘We must hurry.’
As they cantered down the fell, they could see below the tiny specks of a column of men moving along the north bank of the river.
‘Let’s hope that is Prince Edgar and his men, retreating from the Norman advance. Martin, you have the sharpest eyes here, how many men?’
‘No more than fifty.’
‘If it is Edgar, he has lost many comrades.’
It took them nearly an hour to reach the retreating column. They were shocked by the condition of Edgar’s men: they no longer had the bearing of an elite escort for a king-in-waiting. Winter had obviously taken its toll on them; they were dirty, their weapons and horses neglected, and they had the vacant stare of men who were cold and hungry.
Hereward immediately sent a patrol down the valley of the Swale to determine the Normans’ progress. He ordered fires to be lit, hot food prepared and instigated the familiar routines of soldiers. With the wintry sun offering a little warmth, Edgar and his men were made to take a quick plunge in the Swale, cut their hair and beards, clean their armour, sharpen their weapons, and feed and groom their horses. Only then were they allowed to relax by the fires while Hereward and his troop fed them bowls of broth and bread.
When they had eaten, Hereward gave them a short but inspiring speech. It ended with a simple rallying cry: ‘Your responsibility is the greatest of all. You ride with England’s only hope — Edgar, the rightful King. Keep him safe. Do this for me. Do this for our people!’
Prince Edgar then told Hereward the grim tale of his winter in Upper Swaledale.
‘It has been awful here. Usulf, the man Einar spoke of, died a couple of years ago and when we arrived, the locals fled, taking everything with them. There isn’t much game up here in the middle of winter and we were reluctant to venture too far down the valley, so we had to scavenge for whatever we could find. The men became restless; many deserted, some in broad daylight. Then, about a month ago, one of Cospatrick’s spies in York heard a rumour that William was planning a major campaign for the New Year.’
‘So it is true? William is looking for you?’
‘Only in part. The word is that he spent every night before Christmas getting blind drunk, bellowing that he was going to rid England of its vermin once and for all, burn every house and slaughter every animal. As soon as they heard the spy’s story, Cospatrick and Waltheof left for their earldoms to protect their communities.’
‘And Siward Bjorn?’
‘He had left earlier, to go on a recruiting mission for more men. He said he was embarrassed that so few Englishmen had joined the revolt. What do you think we should do now?’
‘You have to go to King Malcolm. With William on the rampage like this, Scotland is the only safe place for you. I’ve never known anyone like him; he’s totally ruthless and utterly relentless. If he’s prepared to maraude through the Pennines in the middle of winter and massacre his subjects on the supposition that a few of them might be rebels, then nowhere in England is safe for you.’
‘But I’d prefer to come with you.’
‘That is not a good idea. I have my own plan, which will put you in harm’s way. I’ve had enough of avoiding William until the time is right; I’m going to confront him directly, not in a pitched battle, but close enough so that he knows it’s me. That will infuriate him and make him come after me. And when he does, I’ll be able to choose my ground and stand and face him.’
‘Then I should be at your side.’
‘No, my prospects are not great in such a challenge. You have to survive, albeit in exile in Scotland, Flanders, or wherever you choose, but you must live. You are the only legitimate heir England has. Can you rely on your men to get you to Scotland?’
‘Yes, I think so, now that you have reminded them of their discipline.’
‘Good, then our cause is not lost. We go on.’
‘Do you think William knows you lead the revolt?’
‘I’m sure he does. He must know by now that I was on Senlac Ridge. When we meet again, it will be quite a reckoning.’
Prince Edgar, the Saxon Atheling to the English throne, left within the hour. The patrol Hereward had despatched returned shortly afterwards and confirmed that the reports from York were true: William had split his force into several smaller groups, which were fanning out into every habitable part of Northumbria, hell bent on finding all the English rebels and exterminating them. The patrol had met dozens of people trying to escape from Richmond. Disorientated, hungry and tired, there was little hope for them; if the Normans failed to ensnare them, then winter and starvation would do its worst.
Whole villages were being put to the sword and entire families burned alive in their homes.
It was a massacre of the innocents.
26. The Ambush
When Hereward and his men returned to Clitheroe Hill from Upper Swaledale, all was well. There had been no sightings of William’s forces, not even at Skipton, and everything was calm. Hereward called a gathering of his entire contingent and related the gruesome details of what was happening east of the Pennines.
The stories were heard in silence, in a mood of disbelief and anger.
Hereward paused, before outlining yet another strategy. ‘For the time being, we hold what we have. William is sweeping north; I suspect he will go to Durham, then perhaps as far as the Tweed. He knows that Edgar was not in Scotland for the winter, but let’s pray that he doesn’t discover that he soon will be. He is punishing the people east of the Pennines for opposing him by turning it into a wasteland. He will soon turn towards the west, to the fertile plains along the coast, and to Chester, the stronghold of our ally, Eadric the Wild.
‘Einar says there are only two logical places where William can cross the Pennines. If he goes much further north than Durham, he will cross through Alston to Penrith and then south. If Durham is his furthest point north, then he will turn and go south through Ripon and Harrogate, before turning west through the Pennines to Skipton,
