‘Of course,’ the king said, studying me with narrowed eyes. ‘Tancred of Earnford. The Breton. I’ve heard tell of your exploits.’
I did my best not to flinch beneath his gaze, and to quell my anger at the note of scorn in his voice. ‘Only good things, I trust, lord king,’ I replied as evenly as I could.
He ignored that remark. ‘Should I understand that you three are responsible for capturing the Englishman?’
‘There were others as well, lord, but yes, it was we who led the expedition,’ I said.
The king nodded as if in contemplation. ‘Very well, Breton. What is this suggestion of yours?’
I swallowed to moisten my throat. ‘I was thinking, lord, that we should send Godric back to Elyg.’
There was silence for a moment, in which only the sound of the rain and the geese in their pen outside could be heard. The king’s eyes narrowed but he did not speak.
‘Send him back?’ Eudo asked. ‘After all this, you would let him go?’
‘Think for a moment,’ I said. ‘Why does Morcar persist in stirring up trouble? Why does he ally himself to filth-ridden wretches like Hereward? What is he looking to gain?’
I turned to Godric. The colour had drained entirely from his face but there was renewed brightness in his eyes. If he wanted to leave this place alive, though, he would have to help me.
‘I–I don’t know,’ he mumbled, his voice quiet.
‘I think you do,’ I said. ‘You might be a poor excuse for a warrior but you know him well enough. If Morcar truly wanted to drive us from these shores, his best opportunity was to raise his banner in support of Eadgar Ætheling last year, but he didn’t. He doesn’t care whether an Englishman or a Frenchman wears the crown, so long as he profits. Am I right?’
Godric did not reply, but his silence told me all that I needed to know.
‘I think I understand what Morcar has in mind,’ I went on. ‘As much as he might act the war leader, the truth is that he is barely more experienced a fighter than his nephew. Remember that in two months not once has he dared meet us in open battle or so much as send a single raiding-band against our camp.’
Wace shrugged. ‘He is a coward. What other explanation is there?’
‘Maybe he is, but that doesn’t mean he is stupid. I’d wager he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s content to let others harry us and wreak destruction, while he shuts himself up inside the rebels’ fastness at Elyg and, week by week, wears us down. Hereward and his band might have made it their cause to shed Norman blood until the marshes run red, but for Morcar this rebellion is merely a way of furthering his own ambitions. He doesn’t want to dirty his hands if he can help it. In the end he’s not looking to fight us, but to bargain.’
All eyes turned to the king, who was looking into the hearth, his hands clasped together and his forefingers steepled in front of his pursed lips. The fire-glow reflected in the whites of his eyes.
‘If you’re right, that means that he can be bought,’ he murmured.
I nodded. ‘Every man has his price. But the longer this campaign continues and the more desperate we grow, the greater the advantage he and the rebels hold, and so the greater their demands will be if we find ourselves forced to sue for peace.’
I said if, but truthfully I knew that it was a matter of when. As I’d said to Robert yesterday, we could not keep fighting this war for ever.
‘You would try to come to an arrangement with Morcar,’ said the king. ‘You would pay a small price to him now, to avoid having to pay a larger one later. Is that it?’
‘That is it, lord king.’
‘You have no confidence, then, in our prospects of taking Elyg by force?’
‘I don’t doubt that it can be done,’ I lied, having to choose my words with care. ‘But it will be costly, and will mean the deaths of many hundreds if not thousands of our own men. Whether victory is worth that cost is not for me to say.’
The king turned to Godric. ‘For the right price, can your uncle be persuaded to renew his oath to me and abandon the rest of the rebels?’
‘I don’t know,’ the Englishman answered. ‘It is possible, I suppose. There has never has been any friendship between him and Hereward. They hate one another, and there are often fights between their followers.’
That was news to my ear. We’d long known that the rebels were an unruly and disparate lot, but that their disagreements were spilling over into open violence surprised me. I was about to press him further, but the king spoke before I could open my mouth.
‘You know Morcar better than most. What does he want? Does he wish me to furnish him with chests filled with silver and precious stones? Or does he want ships to take him far across the sea so that he may never trouble these shores again?’
‘His earldom,’ Robert put in: the first he had spoken in a long while. ‘He seeks the restitution of his old province of Northumbria, as it was granted to him by your predecessor, King Eadward.’ He glanced at our prisoner. ‘That’s right, isn’t it?’
‘It is all he has ever wanted, lords,’ Godric said. ‘He wishes for his rank, title and landholdings to be returned, and for his honour to be restored.’
The earldom of Northumbria. It had once belonged to my former lord, Robert de Commines, until he was murdered that night at Dunholm. Now it was held by the corpulent and grasping Gospatric, an Englishman who hailed from one of the ancient northern families and who commanded a great deal of influence in those parts. His loyalty to us had always been vacillating at best, and openly treacherous on occasion, and all he seemed to care about was adding to his already considerable treasure hoard and acquiring ever more slave-girls to help warm his bed. I knew the king had long been looking for someone to install in his place, although no Norman wanted to venture into that cold, wet province and risk meeting their end at the hands of the wild men who lived there.
‘Northumbria,’ the king said mockingly. ‘What would he want with such a miserable corner of land? Has he not heard what happened last winter?’
‘He has,’ Godric said. ‘But he believes he would be a better man to govern it than Gospatric.’
Despite the ruin the king had wrought there, he hadn’t managed to lay waste the entire province, and I imagined there were parts that had escaped the slaughter and the flames, where a man could easily prosper. Whether Morcar would prove any more dependable than Gospatric, or whether he could subdue the seditious folk who lived there any more successfully, remained doubtful, but none of that mattered at the present moment.
Atselin cleared his throat as if he wished to say something, but promptly fell quiet when the king held up a hand in warning. A stillness hung in the air. I hardly dared move, or even swallow to moisten my throat. Not until the king spoke.
After what seemed like an eternity, he told Godric, ‘If that is what your uncle wishes, I will give it to him gladly. You may go back and tell him that.’ He turned to Atselin. ‘Draw up a writ immediately confirming Morcar as earl as proof of my word. I will put my seal to it.’
The monk blinked in surprise. ‘Are you …’ he began, but then faltered, his brow furrowing. ‘My lord, are you certain of this?’
‘Do you question my judgement, Atselin?’
‘No, lord, but-’
‘Then simply see that it is done.’
The monk bowed. ‘Of course, my king.’
‘Now, in return for this generous gift, Godric of Corbei, your uncle must be willing to renounce whatever oaths he may have sworn to his countrymen, and to swear allegiance to me, and me alone.’
‘I will tell him.’
‘Good.’ The king smiled. ‘If your uncle agrees to these terms, he must send word within three days. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, lord.’
He turned to me. ‘You, Breton, are responsible for escorting our friend back to the place where you captured him, or as close as you can manage if the enemy are afield. There you will let him go, and he will make his own way back to Elyg.
’
‘When would you have us do this?’ I asked.
‘Tonight, under the cover of darkness. The sooner he is reunited with his countrymen, the less reason they’ll have to be suspicious. He has been gone long enough as it is. I will send further instructions this afternoon, along with the writ for him to deliver.’ He pointed a thick finger at Robert. ‘I entrust the Englishman to your care until then. He is your responsibility. If anything should happen to him, you will be answerable to me. You will receive your reward for his capture only if he returns, and does so in possession of favourable news from his uncle.’
‘Yes, lord king,’ Robert replied, more than a little stiffly, but if King Guillaume noticed then he said nothing of it.
‘Make sure that you remain true to your word, Englishman,’ he said as he gestured for his knights to unhand Godric. ‘Consider yourself fortunate and remember that I have been generous on this occasion, but remember, too, that even my generosity is not without limit. Should you cross me and find yourself at my mercy again, I will take great pleasure in seeing that your death is both slow and terrible.’
He did not wait for Godric to reply, but stalked out of the hall, closely followed by his two guardsmen, their scarlet cloaks swirling behind them. Atselin paused long enough to fix me with his customary hard stare, but then he too was gone, leaving us alone with the Englishman. A part of me wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, although I knew that our work was barely begun.
For in a few hours we would send the boy to ply his uncle with promises of rich reward. In his hands rested our fates.
Seven
For the second time in as many nights, then, we found ourselves out on the fens, making our way through the maze of rivers and channels that made up the marsh country. After our ambush the night before, I expected the rebels to be more wary. Indeed had I been commanding them, I’d have made sure to set more sentries on duty, and sent more and larger scouting-parties out to roam the surrounding fens and keep a keen eye out for any signs of trouble. With that in mind, I dared not approach the Isle so closely this time around.
The mist hung a little more thickly over the water that night, with any luck veiling us from sight from the riverbanks, but it meant that once again we were relying on Baudri to steer us through the mist, to find the right channels and show us the way. We were all still bone-tired from the previous night’s foray, and even though it had been my idea to send Godric back as errand-boy to Elyg, another expedition into the marshes was the last thing I had wanted. I’d tried to rest for a few hours that afternoon, but the day had been sweltering and I hadn’t been able to settle for all the noise outside the thin walls of Robert’s hall.
‘He should be here,’ I muttered, and it was only after I’d said it that I realised I’d spoken aloud.
‘Who?’ asked Wace, who was sitting next to me.
‘Lord Robert,’ I said. ‘Godric is his responsibility as much as ours, and yet here we are, risking our skins once again for his sake.’
‘His father is sick,’ Eudo said. ‘Who knows how much longer he’ll live?’
Earlier that evening the priest, Dudo, had come to inform Robert that the elder Malet’s illness had grown suddenly worse. He could not sit up; his fever had returned and he had been coughing up blood again. And so Robert had decided to stay by his bedside rather than join us tonight.
‘How often has Malet’s health waned in recent weeks?’ I asked. ‘Each time we were told he was close to death, but each time he recovered. What makes Robert think it will be any different on this occasion?’
‘These could well be his father’s final hours,’ Wace put in. ‘Surely you don’t begrudge him this time with him?’
‘Of course I don’t,’ I said, although it frustrated me, for I couldn’t shake the suspicion that Robert was shirking his duties. Not all men were born to be warriors; I had long known that he lacked the thirst for adventure of one whose life was lived by the sword. I understood that and thought no less of him for it, but I also knew that a good lord would have taken charge of this undertaking himself, showing his vassals that he was deserving of their service. No one ever received respect without earning it first, and in my eyes this was an opportunity squandered.
Doubtless the others thought I was being unkind, and so I kept my thoughts to myself after that. An eternity passed before we spied the wooded crest of the isle of Litelport. At my instruction Baudri took us not back to the place where we had made the fires, facing Elyg, but around to the far shore, where I reckoned there was less chance of us being spotted. We had all come in a single boat this time, without Hamo and his company, and we ran it aground in a narrow inlet overhung by willows, where we would be easily hidden amongst the reeds and the drooping fronds.
‘Get up,’ I said to Godric. His hands were bound, but he managed to get to his feet without too much trouble. Until the moment that we finally let him loose, he was still our captive, and I was determined to make sure he was reminded of that fact, lest he have any misapprehensions about his importance.
‘We won’t be long,’ I told Wace, who had agreed to wait and keep watch along with Baudri, Serlo and Pons. ‘If you see anything in the meantime, give the signal.’
The rest of us climbed from the punt. My feet subsided into the soft, sucking mud, and it took me a moment to find my balance. Chill marsh-water soaked my trews up to my ankles and crept into my shoes, curling its icy tendrils around my toes. There came the startled cries of a pair of moorhens woken from their sleep, followed by two splashes as they entered the water, but those were the only sounds to be heard. I gave the Englishman a shove in the back to start him moving, and Eudo and I followed behind him, keeping our hands close to our sword-hilts. None of us had seen anything to suggest the enemy were here at Litelport, and it would be bad fortune indeed if we happened to stumble upon them, but all the same it was better to be ready, just in case.
We ventured some hundred paces or so inland, to a patch of open grassland, in the middle of which a solitary marker stone rose to the height of a man’s waist, and I reckoned that would serve as a good landmark.
‘This is as far as we take you,’ I said. ‘You’ll find your own way from here.’
He nodded, understanding. Not wanting to linger here any longer than we had to, I set straightaway to loosening his bonds. I’d tied them tighter that was probably necessary, and I imagined his wrists must be raw from the rope chafing against his skin. Still, he’d made no complaint before and he made none now. Long moments passed while I picked at the knot, but eventually it came loose.
‘Here,’ I said, unbuckling Godric’s sword-belt with the gem-studded scabbard from where it hung around my waist, and passing it to him. We’d already returned his hauberk and chausses, on the king’s orders, and now Eudo tossed him his silver-and-gold-inlaid helmet as well. It would do no good to deprive the Englishman of such treasured possessions when we were trying to win his friendship. For the same reason I also gave him back his four gold rings, although with some reluctance, since they were beautiful things, engraved with a fine runic script and polished to such a shine that they gleamed like the sun. They would have fetched a handsome price. As would Godric himself, had we simply ransomed him to his uncle as he’d begged.
‘Take this, too,’ I said, drawing from inside my cloak the parchment scroll that bore King Guillaume’s writ and seal. ‘Allow no one to see it save for your uncle.’
The Englishman nodded, trembling slightly as he took it. ‘What should I say? When I return to Elyg, I mean. How do I explain where I’ve been?’
I’d been thinking about that. I hadn’t forgotten that some of his scouting-party had fled when they saw their leader captured, and presumably had given their accounts of the ambush when they arrived back at Elyg. His story would need to accord with theirs.
‘To anyone but Morcar,’ I said, and I spoke slowly so that he could hear me clearly, ‘say that we almost succeeded in capturing you, but you managed to slip away into
the trees. We gave chase, of course, but eventually you managed to lose us. Then you hid during the day, waiting until darkness fell so as to make certain that you wouldn’t fall into our hands again. Do you think you can remember all that?’
‘I’ll try,’ he replied.
From anyone else’s lips such an admission of cowardice might have sounded strange, but from his I felt sure it would seem convincing enough.
‘This, then, is where we part,’ I said. ‘Remember this place. For the next three nights, there will be someone waiting here for you to bring an answer from your uncle. You will come unarmed and you will come alone. Do you understand?’
‘I understand.’
‘Very well,’ I said. ‘Now, go, before I decide that the king was wrong after all and that you’re of more use to us dead.’
He didn’t need telling twice. I barely had time to blink before he had turned his back and scurried off, half running and half stumbling, through the long grass. He was slowed a little by the weight of his mail, but the mist obscured the moon’s light and so it wasn’t long before he disappeared into the darkness. Thus Godric, thegn of Corbei, went to deliver his message and persuade Morcar to change his allegiance.
A part of me wondered whether we would ever see him again. I wasn’t alone, either.
‘You realise he won’t come back, don’t you?’ Wace said when we’d returned to the inlet where the willows grew and pushed out on to the water. ‘He knows he was fortunate to escape with his life. He won’t dare put himself at our mercy a second time.’
‘Even if he does deliver the message to his uncle as he promised, what if Morcar refuses King Guillaume’s offer?’ Eudo asked. ‘Where will we be then?’
‘We’ll be in exactly the same situation as we were before,’ I replied. ‘We lose nothing by trying, and if it works it might well give us the key to victory.’
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