The Emperor then stood and we were abruptly dismissed.
The journey back to our camp became a long discussion about whether the Emperor was telling the truth. All of us thought him perturbed by our questions, but could not understand why he would want to hide something from us.
Estrith was certain that what he carried was the Talisman.
‘He knows something. It is definitely the Talisman, and the infuriating thing is that whoever gave it to him probably knows what became of my father.’
Edwin was more pragmatic.
‘You were a few feet away; you could have been mistaken. As for the Emperor’s reaction, he probably thought it discourteous of us to ask.’
Although I had not seen the Talisman as many times as Estrith, I was also sure it was the amulet Hereward had worn. But I thought it unlikely to be still linked to Hereward after all these years.
‘Even if it is the Talisman, it could have gone through many hands before arriving here — anyone could have picked it up at Ely. But, I agree, it is an amazing coincidence that we should find it hanging from the gilded belt of the Emperor of Byzantium.’
The others had been too far away to see what Estrith and I had seen, but Sweyn was adamant.
‘The Emperor is hiding something. All he needed to do was show it to us and that would have been an end to it. It’s the amulet all right. And when we’ve finished our business in the Holy Land, we’ll get to the bottom of it. Then it will lead us to Hereward.’
Robert pointed out that that might be easier said than done.
‘Sweyn, emperors are not usually in the habit of bending to the will of anybody — let alone a lowly duke and an even lowlier knight.’
‘On the contrary, chivalry demands that he return it to Estrith. It is a sacred relic, entrusted to the care of Hereward and Torfida by her father, the Old Man of the Wildwood, and before him by Emma, Queen of England, and a long line of forebears stretching back to the emperors of Rome. Estrith is Hereward and Torfida’s only surviving relative, thus she is now the guardian of the Talisman. It belongs to her and her alone.’
Robert did not respond. Like the rest of us, he was impressed by the clarity of Sweyn’s answer and the forthright way in which he delivered it.
Edwin brought the discussion to an end by reminding us of the practicalities we faced in the expedition we were about to undertake.
‘We have three weeks to get ready for the crossing. There is much to do. Let’s deal with the dilemma of the Talisman when we return.’
Ships arrived from every port in the Mediterranean for the crossing. The distance was not great — only about half a mile in places — but the number of Crusaders was huge and the volume of supplies immense. The Emperor rode down to the quays every morning to check on progress and each time was hailed as the great leader of Christendom and cheered wherever he went.
Alexius had brokered a flimsy compromise with the Latin Princes about the campaign’s leadership, strategy and objectives, but the details were vague and few of us expected the agreement to last for long.
First of all, Raymond of Toulouse was to act as primate of a Crusade Council of War, a body consisting of all the leaders of the various contingents. It would be his job to ensure a consensus on routes and battle planning.
Secondly, all inhabitants of liberated cities and territories were to be treated humanely, and freedom of worship would be permitted.
Finally, the Princes were at liberty to create their own fiefdoms in the freed cities, but subject to the above conditions and their original oath to the Emperor — to bow to his sovereignty over all land and people restored to Christian rule.
I was by far the most junior member of the Council of War, leading the smallest contingent, and was surrounded by powerful individuals who made little attempt to hide their personal ambitions. I feared men like Bohemond of Taranto and Tancred of Hauteville were going to do just as they pleased, regardless of what the Council said — or the Emperor, for that matter.
The day before our departure, we were summoned to see Alexius. A feverish sense of anticipation began to course through our veins. None of the other contingents’ leaderships had been asked to go to the Palace, so we hoped and prayed that the call had something to do with the Talisman.
When we arrived in the inner sanctum of the Blachernae, we were ushered into a much smaller but no less ornate room than before. It was deserted; there was no furniture, just a bare room of tapestries and mosaic. Then a wide door to our right was opened and two Varangians appeared and stood guard as the Emperor walked in.
We all bowed.
The Emperor addressed us directly.
‘The man who gave me the Talisman is waiting next door to see you. There is a reason why I denied that the amulet was what you said it was — but he will explain that. He would like to see Estrith alone first, then the rest of you. Forgive me; there is much to do before tomorrow.’
The Emperor then turned and left. As he did so, a steward appeared and beckoned Estrith towards an identical door on the opposite side. Sweyn was not happy for Estrith to go alone, but she was halfway to the door before he had time to raise an objection.
The wait seemed like an eternity. It was probably only a few minutes, but it felt like an hour.
Suddenly, the door was thrown open to reveal Estrith all but dragging a large and unmistakable figure behind her. She was crying and laughing at the same time, almost hysterical with emotion. Adela immediately started to weep as well, as she joined Estrith in embracing the man none of us had seen in over twenty-five years.
The men stood back, but Sweyn had tears in his eyes and his chest heaved in spasms.
I quickly calculated that the man before us must have been sixty-one or so years of age, but he looked ten years younger. His girth was more substantial than I remembered, and his hair was full of grey streaks amidst the flowing golden-blond locks, but there he stood, Hereward of Bourne, England’s great hero, a man of legend.
Sweyn and Adela had been right: he was alive still.
It was a miracle.
Then Hereward spoke, and I was transported back to 1069 and the measured but powerful voice of his rousing oratory during the rebellion. I was the Prince Atheling, the heir to the throne of England, high born, with a royal pedigree centuries old, and he was a minor thegn from a tiny village in the shires; yet he was the giant, I was the sprat. He was all that I wanted to be: a leader of men in reality, not one whose only claim to leadership was his conception twixt royal bed-sheets. He had become the towering presence in my life; now, when it did not seem possible that he could still be alive, he had appeared again.
I knew that, as before, he would be an inspiration to me and our Brethren.
‘Emperor Alexius has given us a room where we can sit and talk, and has had food prepared for us.’
We all embraced and I introduced Hereward to Robert.
‘My Lord Duke, I didn’t think I would ever see my family and friends again. That I should do so in the presence of the son of King William is, to say the least, somewhat of a surprise. However, Estrith tells me that you are sworn together as brethren, so I am honoured to meet you.’
‘The honour is mine, Hereward of Bourne; I have heard so much about you. I look forward to hearing more.’
Beneath a heavy ruby-red cloak fastened by an intricate bronze clasp, Hereward wore the blood-red tunic, trimmed with gold embroidery, of a Captain of the Varangian Guard. Over one shoulder, held by a finely tooled leather strap, he carried a large circular shield adorned with the motif of the winged lion of the Guard. Slung over the other shoulder was a heavy battle sword with a fine gilt handle and delicately worked sheath. Along his belt were leather pouches for two shorter stabbing swords, a small close-quarters axe and a jewelled dagger.
But there was something missing, the most fearsome weapon I had ever seen — the Great Axe of Goteborg.
‘Where is your axe?’
‘It’s over there, in the corner; I’m getting a bit old to carry it around all day.’
He beckoned to one of the Varangians to get it for him. Even though the soldier was a large man himself, he struggled to carry it, holding it with reverence, as if it had magical powers. When he handed it to Hereward, he
