‘I know, but my purpose in coming here is to tell you of a new Brotherhood. When I became a knight, I went to France to serve King Louis VI. There, I met two men of great valour and virtue; we have become great friends. Their names are Hugh of Payens and Godfrey of Saint-Omer; they both served with Geoffrey of Bouillon in the First Crusade. They are much older than me and have become my mentors.’
‘I don’t recall their names.’
‘They remember you and the English contingent, and the exploits of my grandfather, Sweyn, Adela and Edwin. They have formed their own brotherhood. It is a very noble order and they have invited me to join it; it is a great honour. There are only nine of us, and the rest are Normans or Franks. You may have heard their names: Andre of Montbard, Payen of Montdidier, Archambaud of St Amand, Geoffrey Bisol and two monks, Gondemere and Rosal. We are the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon, the Knights Templar.’
‘And what is your mission?’
‘The King of Jerusalem, Baldwin II, has granted us his church on Temple Mount in Jerusalem, the former al- Aksa mosque, the site of the Temple of Solomon, which gives us our name. We wear the cross of Christ and are sworn to poverty, chastity, piety and obedience in the service of God and our fellow men and are strong supporters of the Mos Militum, the code of chivalry that all knights should follow.’
‘It sounds very worthy, but a little strict!’
‘It is, but there is so much cruelty and evil in our world we have to be disciplined to resist its temptations. My brother knights will follow me to Constantinople, from where we will travel to the Holy Land.’
‘So much time has passed. It is strange to hear your voice now, as a grown man. Be careful in Palestine. I’m sure it’s as dangerous now as it was in my day.’
‘My mother told me what an inspiration you were to all of them; she was very fond of you.’
‘That was kind of her. We were a good team, true brethren.’
Harry’s words were very gratifying; they also reminded me of how I had wanted so much more from Estrith, if circumstances had been different. Ah, the wistful memories of an old man!
My eyes were beginning to adjust to the light and I could see the outline of his face. He was like his father — dark of hair and complexion, and tall and willowy. I could not see his eyes, lost in the dark bowls of his eye sockets, but I would have wagered they were warm and dark like Estrith’s. I suddenly wondered how Harry knew where my little abode was.
‘Tell me, how did you know where to find me?’
‘It wasn’t difficult. I asked the King.’
I was curious. I knew that Harry was not without funds and knightly status, but that would not normally give him access to the King.
‘So, you have access to him?’
‘I do. He speaks very highly of you.’
‘May I ask how you have access to King Henry?’
‘I am part of his bodyguard, what the Saxons used to call his hearthtroop. But I have vexed the King and he searches every shire in the land to hunt me down. That is why there must be no trace of me here. It would put you in mortal peril.’
I was desperate to know more, but realized that Harry’s real purpose was to ask me questions, not the other way round.
‘I wish you every success in the Holy Land. I have some very vivid memories from the days when we were there; some still haunt me to this day.’
‘I have one last question for you. Were you there when my father died?’
‘I was.’
‘Did he die well?’
‘He did; he took a lance intended for Duke Robert. Your father was a very brave man and a noble knight, just like your grandfather. Did your mother tell you about the brave Adela? And Edwin, the man who kept us all together and working as a team?’
‘She did, and especially what Adela did for her in Palestine. I have been to her grave in Bourne to thank her, my other “mother”. I hope that the order of knights I have joined will be able to emulate the traditions begun at Ely and continued by our Brethren in Palestine.’
‘It was my honour to know them all; now I am privileged to meet another knight of Bourne. I wish you well.’
‘I will try to live my life as they lived theirs.’
‘I have no doubt you will. Go carefully, Harold of Hereford.’
He was a very earnest young man, but I readily gave him my blessing and as much wisdom about Palestine as I could. I think I must have sounded like Torfida’s father in the wildwood, and Hereward atop his mountain — full of talk of truth, virtue and destiny. I suppose I had become a sage. I did give him one piece of firm advice.
‘Wherever your destiny takes you and whatever it leads you to do, always remember your past and the legacy you have inherited. It will not only be your guide, it will also bring meaning to your life and to the lives of those who follow you. Your grandfather once told me that that was the message he had learned from the Talisman of Truth. When the Emperor, John Comnenus, passes it on to you, he will help you understand the wisdom of that message.’
I asked Harry to stay so that I could get to know him better, but he insisted that he had to go and, as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone. He did promise to come back with the Talisman one day and to bring news of Hereward’s resting place.
Perhaps he will.
When Harry had left, I felt a profound sense of relief. My mission in life had been fulfilled.
A fine young knight was about to embark on his own story, and he carried with him everything that Hereward, the Brotherhood and our Brethren had striven for.
Not only that, I had fulfilled my promise to Hereward to take care of his grandson.
When my time came to join him in the earth, I felt sure that the Wodewose would welcome me, just as he had welcomed my mentor, Hereward, and his own guide, the Old Man of the Wildwood.
Epilogue
Testament
William of Malmesbury, the renowned scribe of England’s history, breathes a long, deep breath and adjusts his position to find a more comfortable posture, as he has many times during the long days he has sat listening to the story of the life of Edgar the Atheling, Prince of England. His young cleric, Roger of Caen, yawns; he is overwhelmed by what he has heard in the modest hall of Ashgyll Force and terrified about how much he has to remember.
Twenty years on from the Battle of Tinchebrai, despite the unseemly haste and connivance of his ascendancy, and his subsequent avarice in snatching Normandy from his brother, Henry’s reign is largely peaceful and prosperous. Some of the wounds between Englishman and Norman are healing — even so, Prince Edgar is cautious about raking over ashes that are still warm.
‘So, there you have it, William of Malmesbury. Do with it as you see fit, but treat us kindly. Perhaps the story is best told after the King is dead. He rules England well, but he still has a vindictive streak, which is never far from the surface.’
William agrees with Edgar; the story is so intimate, it should not be told while the King is alive.
‘Your story will stay within the walls of Malmesbury until the time is right, when the King has been laid to rest. He is nearly sixty now and has not been in good health since the death of his son, William the Atheling.’
‘I heard that he drowned off the Normandy coast.’
‘He perished on the White Ship, dashed on the rocks off Barfleur. They say that he and the crew had been drinking and racing another ship to see which could reach the open sea first.’
‘I hear Robert’s son, William Clito, is now Count of Flanders and is still harassing the King.’
‘Indeed, he is. And to Henry’s credit, he does not take any revenge on Robert, who is still alive in Cardiff, or
