Still rotting on the inside, the bloated corpse burst open like the putrid carcass of an animal, splattering those nearby with its rancid contents. The smell was so unbearable that the abbey emptied within minutes. The only saving grace for those lowly clerics left to clear up the mess was that the suddenly deflated corpse could now be squeezed into its resting place, allowing the task to be hurriedly completed and the coffin sealed.
The era of William, Duke of Normandy, conqueror of England, was over.
Like so many others, I was not sorry to see him go. His ambitions had brought death to tens of thousands and pain and suffering to many more. He had killed the noble Harold and destroyed the mighty English army at Senlac Ridge; he had cut down the Brotherhood of St Etheldreda — the bravest of the brave — at the Siege of Ely and taken Hereward from us. In doing all of that, he had denied me the throne that would, one day, have been mine. I no longer resented that, but I did feel bitter about all the other things he had done.
Adela spoke for the others over dinner that night, a meal that was much more like a celebration than a wake.
‘A lot of people will rest easier in their beds now that he’s gone. Good riddance to the bastard!’
While I shared her sentiments about his passing, I feared that her prediction about people sleeping more comfortably in the future would prove to be wrong. William had changed all our lives for ever. I pondered how profoundly our lives would yet be changed in the lengthening shadow of his legacy.
18. The Anointing
William Rufus became William II of England in a grand ceremony in Westminster Abbey on the 26th of September 1087. He had required my attendance to kiss his ring at the appointed time, thus adding authority to his succession, and Robert was happy to give his blessing for me to travel to England with my small band of brothers- in-arms.
The saintly King Edward’s most celebrated building was crowded with the great nobles of the realm, dressed in their heraldic finery, their ladies in fine silks and jewels. Horns saluted, drums beat the rhythm of the procession and the monks chanted in homage as Rufus became King of England.
Perversely, there were not many Englishmen there; I guessed that not more than one in ten was a native of our island. I performed my role and knelt before our new lord and kissed his ring, thus anointing him on behalf of my kith and kin. It was a strange sensation, not helped by the contemptuous smirk which met my eyes as I looked up at him. I had a lingering sense of betrayal, a sin I could have redeemed there and then by plunging my seax deep into his chest. But it would have been merely a gesture, and a futile one at that; there were legions of Normans to take his place.
After his crowning, Rufus dutifully carried out his father’s wishes and distributed money to all the churches of England. He freed Bishop Odo, but had Earl Morcar re-arrested. However, he was moderately well treated in a manner befitting an earl of the realm. The people of England appeared to grudgingly accept Rufus as the legitimate heir to the throne, although resentment at the Norman lordship still ran deep.
The plots that had been hatching within the Norman hierarchy regarding the successions — both in England and in Normandy — soon began to unfold.
Odo was at the centre of it all and had recruited the powerful Robert of Mortain to the cause. By Christmas, they had been joined by Geoffrey, Bishop of Coutances, and his nephew, the Earl of Northumbria, as well as by Roger, Earl of Shrewsbury, and Count Eustace of Boulogne. By March 1088, they were strong enough to make their move.
We had returned to Rouen earlier in the year, where a messenger arrived just after Easter summoning me to Rochester to meet Odo and his co-conspirators. I told Duke Robert about the summons.
He agreed that I should go, but warned me to be extremely careful.
‘Odo is ruthless and ambitious and will do anything to further his own cause. He is not my father’s half- brother for nothing.’
‘I presume he thinks that by usurping Rufus and offering you the throne, he can become your regent in England.’
‘Exactly! He still wants the throne of Rome — and de facto rule of England from Westminster would go a long way to securing that. He would have the money and the influence to buy himself the papacy. But don’t worry, Edgar, you are just the messenger.’
‘Thank you for that reassuring crumb of comfort. I suppose I have done worse things in life.’
I decided it was wise to travel with Edwin and Adela and leave Sweyn behind, given that he had already crossed swords with Odo six years earlier when he arrested him at Rochester. We arrived at our clandestine rendezvous in Upchurch, a small settlement near the Medway, one of Odo’s many manors in Kent. With guards all around and the local peasants dismissed to their fields, we met in a small barn, hardly big enough and certainly not grand enough for the elite of the Norman aristocracy.
The Bishop was in his pomp, clearly overjoyed at playing the role of kingmaker. His entourage — big, burly men who could easily have been mistaken for housecarls had they not been wearing their fine armour and gleaming weapons — stood around him in a brooding arc that made the three of us seem like a tiny morsel about to be snapped up in the jaws of a huge beast.
Odo wasted no time in telling us of his intent.
‘Your loyalty to Duke Robert is well known. Carry this message to him. We will raise a rebellion here in England to install him as King. The only condition is that during his reign he rules from Rouen, where he will continue as Duke of Normandy. He will come here for only four crown-wearings every year — at York, Winchester, Gloucester and Westminster.’
‘My Lord Bishop, do you expect him to accept that?’
‘I expect you to carry my message.’
With that I was dismissed like a pageboy.
Our journey to England had been uneventful — not so the return to Rouen.
It was May and the weather had been mild but, in mid-Channel, our ship suddenly hit a wall of heavy mist. Our captain, one of Robert’s most experienced sailors, tried to stay calm, but I could see that he was concerned. From the helmsman’s position it was only just possible to see the curve of the prow; beyond it was a void.
The captain ordered our sail to be lowered, a torch lit and our horn sounded, but it was too late. We heard the wash of the other ship before we saw it, only seconds before it hit us. I saw the serpent prow first, high above my head. Seconds later, it rammed us amidships. A large Norman merchantman, fully laden, low in the water in full sail, she split us almost in half.
We were all in the water in an instant. Thankfully, spring had warmed the sea sufficiently so that our lives were not under imminent threat, but it was vital that we look for something to cling to and then try to retrieve our armour and weapons.
We were carrying little cargo so, although badly holed, we did not sink immediately. Two of the captain’s crew were killed in the impact and Edwin seemed badly dazed. With our captain’s help Adela and I managed to pull him on to the merchantman, which, apart from some sprung timbers along her prow, seemed seaworthy.
Adela then jumped into the water again and swam back to our ship, now sitting very low in the water. The captain of the merchantman steered his ship alongside our stricken vessel and Adela started to throw our armour, weapons and anything else she could find on to its deck. But I soon became alarmed as our ship began to list to port and rapidly take on water.
‘Adela, get off the ship! She’s going down — you must swim for it!’
‘Not without my seax!’
She dived beneath the waves just as the ship slipped quietly beneath the surface. I immediately dived in after her, knowing that she could easily become entangled in the rigging or be enveloped by the sail. The sea was calm but I was not a strong swimmer and, still wearing my leather jerkin and heavy boots, I soon began to flounder.
I swallowed water and was fighting for air when I saw Adela’s shiny seax within inches of my face. Its blade was catching the light of a torch that had been lit to help search for us. Adela had found her weapon at the last moment and was now holding it in her teeth as she pulled me towards the safety of the merchantman.
Once aboard, she turned to me. ‘You can’t swim, can you?’
