Sworn Sword (45 page)

‘It’s only the truth,’ I said, not even troubling to get to my feet. The fire lay between us, preventing him from coming any closer, and he was more likely to hurt himself than me if he tried to do anything.

‘Tancred is right,’ Wace said. ‘There’s no sense rushing into an attack. Better to wait, to send out scouts and work out the enemy’s weaknesses.’

‘The king is not a stupid man,’ I added. ‘If he thought it was wise to attack now, then we would be doing so. But he doesn’t, and so we wait. If you disagree with him, maybe you should tell him yourself.’

Urse looked at me, then at Wace, scowled at us and sat back down. Perhaps he saw the reason in what we were saying, though I doubted it. More probably he’d decided that two of us were more than he could handle on his own.

‘Besides,’ I said, ‘more men are joining us by the day. By tomorrow we could have another two hundred swords.’

‘Though so could the enemy,’ Eudo put in.

I glared at him; he was not helping. At that moment, though, I saw Robert returning, and alongside him Ansculf and the other two knights who had accompanied him. They all bore solemn expressions, and I understood what that meant. The plans had been decided, and all of a sudden the prospect of battle had become real to them. I knew the feeling well. It didn’t matter how many years one had been campaigning, nor how many foes one had killed, for the fear was the same for every man: the fear that this fight might be his last.

‘We attack tomorrow, before dawn,’ Robert said. ‘Rest now, gather your strength. You’ll need it for the battle. We march when the moon reaches its highest.’

A murmur went up amongst the men. I glanced towards the
west, where a glimmer of light was still visible above the line of the trees. I was relieved to see that the moon had not yet risen; we had a few hours, then, in which to sleep, and to ready ourselves. A chill came over me. It was happening, and it was happening tonight.

‘Tancred,’ Robert said.

‘Yes, lord?’ I replied.

‘Come with me.’

I glanced at the others, wondering what this was about, then I got to my feet, buckling on my sword-belt. Robert turned away from the fire and the tents, towards the horses, and I followed him. His lips were set and he did not speak, nor did I press him. He saddled up his destrier, and I did the same, and then we rode out. The last light had faded and the camp was quiet now, save for the whinnying of horses in the distance and the occasional bout of laughter from around the fires. News of the impending attack could not have reached them yet.

Eventually we left the camp behind us altogether, striking out across the furrowed fields to the north and east, to where a clump of trees stood atop a small rise. All else was still. My breath misted before me. Though the days had been growing warmer, the night was yet cold.

We reached the top of the rise, where we dismounted. The branches formed a roof over our heads, blocking out the stars and the newly risen crescent moon. I looked back the way we had come, at the dots of firelight arrayed across the hillside. Not all had men by them; to fool any enemy scouts more had been lit on the fringes of the camp, to disguise our true numbers and make the army appear larger than it was.

‘Why have you brought me here, lord?’ I asked at last.

‘Look,’ he replied, pointing out into the distance. Beyond the trees the land fell away to a wide plain, beyond which, some miles away, wound a line of deepest black. It was a river – the Use, for it could be no other – and huddled on its shores was a town, ringed with walls and a palisade, in the midst of which rose a tall mound, with a castle tower set atop it, all in shadow.

‘Eoferwic,’ Robert said. ‘That is where my father is. Where in only a few hours we will be too.’

‘Yes, lord,’ I replied, not knowing what he expected me to say. He couldn’t have brought me all this way just to show me the city, surely?

‘I have something I wish to ask of you, Tancred.’

His tone and his words brought me back to the morning I was summoned to see Malet at the castle, when he had first mentioned the task he had in mind for me. I glanced at Robert, and saw the same heavy eyebrows, the same pronounced nose and angular chin. Without a doubt he was his father’s son.

‘What is it?’ I asked.

Robert’s eyes were fixed on the city in the distance. ‘Our scouts came back a few hours ago with further news of the enemy. It seems that while many of them are within the city, the rest have made their camp just outside the northern gates. In a few hours King Guillaume plans to send a thousand men to ride upriver to the next crossing. They will descend upon Eoferwic from the north and attack that camp before first light, hoping to draw the rest of the enemy out from the city. At the same time the rest of us, led by the king himself, are to attack from this side and capture the western quarter of the town, before crossing the bridge and taking the enemy in the rear.’

‘And how does the king plan to get inside Eoferwic?’ I asked. We had no siege weapons with us, so far as I had seen, and though we might try to break through the gates without them, it would mean the loss of many men, and I didn’t think we had such numbers to spare.

‘That’s why I’ve brought you here,’ Robert said. He took a deep breath. ‘Before we can get inside, someone must first open the gates for us. Since it is my father we are fighting this campaign for, it has fallen upon me to find the men to do it.’

He looked at me then, his eyebrow raised, and I saw what he meant.

‘You want me to do this,’ I said.

‘You and the rest of your companions. The king has asked for a
small band of men, no more than half a dozen, to approach the city by river later this night, make its way through the streets unseen and to secure the gates.’

It would be dangerous, of that I had no doubt. All it took was for one person to see us, to raise the cry, and we would be dead men, for once we were inside it would be hard to get out again. And the only reason that Robert was asking us was because he didn’t want to risk any of his own knights.

A sudden anger filled me. He was not my lord; I didn’t have to do his bidding. While I was prepared to ride into battle with him, help him in what way I could, as I had promised Beatrice, I wasn’t about to risk my life on some fool’s errand for him, whom I barely knew.

I turned away, back to my horse. ‘Find someone else, lord.’

‘You know the city,’ he called after me. ‘My own men do not. I would not ask this otherwise.’

I ignored him as I swung up into the saddle and gripped the reins.

‘I will see that you are well rewarded,’ he said. ‘I can give you silver, gold, horses, whatever you wish.’

I was about to dig my heels in and ride back to camp when I stopped. The wind blew; above my head the branches creaked.

‘What about land?’ I asked. In all the years that I had served his namesake, Robert de Commines, that was one thing he had never given me. A manor of my own, that I could call home, with a hall and a gatehouse and retainers to serve me as I served him. Since the day he had given me command of one of his conrois, that was what I had dreamt of, more than anything else. To become a lord in my own right.

‘If that is what you desire, I will see to it, for you and your comrades.’

I regarded him for a moment, wondering if he meant it seriously, and he watched me in turn. ‘I have your word?’ I asked.

‘You have my word.’

‘I will have to ask my men first.’

‘Of course,’ he replied. He mounted his horse; we rode back to the camp in silence. In truth I was somewhat disappointed in myself,
as it dawned upon me how easily I had been bought. It was not that I thought I ought to have asked for more, but rather that I had given in at all. For land, to a great family such as the Malets, was like bread: they had enough that they could afford to give it freely.

But he had made the offer, and I could not deny that it was one worth fighting for. And all we had to do was make it through this night.

Thirty-two

THE OTHERS TOOK
some convincing at first, most especially Wace, who like me was reluctant to risk his neck on Robert’s behalf. But once I told them of the reward he had promised, it wasn’t long before they agreed to the plan.

Thus it was that as the moon approached its highest we readied ourselves to ride out, donning mail and helmets, fastening our sword-belts to our waists, looping shield-straps over our heads. Around us the whole camp was rising; everywhere men were seeing to their horses, or kneeling in private prayer. A priest was doing the rounds of the men, hearing confession from those who wished it, and I heard him murmur back in Latin as he absolved them of their sins.

How I wished for such consolation then, but I knew we didn’t have the time. Already I could see gathering the men whom the king had chosen for the attack upon the rebels’ camp, although it seemed to me it was far more than a thousand, for when all the spearmen and archers were added to the knights it looked as if nearly half our army was there. We were to go with them, and that meant we had to leave shortly. They had many miles yet to cover if they were to cross the river and reach Eoferwic before dawn, which by now could be but a few hours away.

Tiredness clutched at my eyes. I had not slept much, for every time I had tried, I saw only Dunholm and the faces of my comrades rising before me. My leg throbbed where I had taken that blow, though I had not thought about it in some time. While the wound had all but healed, the scar remained, and buried in it was the memory of my failure. This would be the first true battle I had fought since then.

We were leaving our destriers at the camp, since we had no need for them, and saddled the rounceys instead. They had done us good service so far; now they only had to take us a few miles more.

Robert came over just as we were about to leave. Like us he was dressed in his mail, and his helmet-strap was tied, though his ventail was open, the flap of mail hanging loose by his neck. Certainly he looked formidable, if not entirely comfortable. But then not all men were born to be warriors. He was here not from a desire to fight but rather out of duty, to his father and to his king, and that was as much to be respected.

‘We will bring your horses,’ he said. ‘As soon as the gates are open, look for us. There is a place for each of you in my conroi.’

I thanked him and he smiled, but it was a weak smile, and one that betrayed his anxiety. ‘God be with you.’

‘And with you,’ I replied.

With that we spurred our mounts into action, riding out beyond the camp to where a mass of horses and men were assembling, under a banner which displayed a white wolf on a crimson background. I recognised it as belonging to Guillaume fitz Osbern, of all men in England and Normandy perhaps the closest to the king. I had met him more than once at the royal court, and knew how capable he was as a commander, for he had led the right wing of our army at Hæstinges: the very wing on which we had fought. He had a reputation as a hard man, though thankfully I’d never incurred his wrath.

He sat mounted on a grey horse at the head of the host, marshalling men, surrounded by other lords, and I knew them for such because their scabbards were inlaid with precious stones, their helmets rimmed with gold. Probably many of them had never faced a proper battle before, or at least if they had, then they had stayed some way back from the real fighting. Otherwise they ought to have known that such things only marked them out to the enemy and so made them easier to kill. Whatever wealth they had, it counted for nothing on the field of slaughter.

I tried to force my way through the crowd, towards Fitz Osbern himself, hoping he might recognise either myself or Wace or Eudo, though the last time we had met with him we had been in the
company of Earl Robert, and I was not sure whether he would recall our faces.

‘Lord,’ I called. Men on foot were in the way, but I kept riding forward and they soon moved aside, albeit not before cursing me.

He turned in his saddle, and his gaze fell upon me. ‘What is it?’

‘We are the men Robert Malet has sent,’ I said.

He glanced at each of us in turn. ‘You are the ones who will be opening the gates?’

‘That’s right.’

I gave him our names, though he did not appear to be interested. ‘Six of you,’ he said. ‘I was given to believe that it would not be as many.’ He sighed. ‘It matters not. There is a boat waiting by the river for your use. It is a small craft, but it ought to be enough for your purposes—’

He turned suddenly as a call came from behind him and another man rode up, flanked by two knights on either side. Fitz Osbern headed towards them as if he had already forgotten us, leaping down from the saddle just as the other man did the same. The two embraced, and it was then that I saw the banner – the lion of Normandy – carried by one of the knights, and realised that the other man was no less than the king himself.

He was then about forty or so in years, tall and set like an ox, with a thick neck and a powerful sword-arm that I knew had sent many foes to their deaths. His eyes were shadows beneath stern eyebrows and his face was drawn, but he bore himself with confidence, as a king should. It was the first time I had seen him at close hand, and though I had stood before many nobles over the years, I could not help but feel awed by him. For this was the man who by his will and his vision had brought us here, to England, and won us this kingdom. The man who had gone against the usurper in battle, though the numbers had not favoured him, and who had defeated him.

Hurriedly I signalled to the others to dismount, for it was not right to remain mounted when the king himself was standing. The two broke off their embrace and strode towards us.

‘My lord king, these are the men who will be opening the gates for you,’ Fitz Osbern said.

I had enough presence of mind to kneel. King Guillaume towered over me, all six feet of him, and I met his eyes, glimpsing the fire contained within. Quickly I bowed my head. It was often said that the king was prone to anger, and I had no wish to see if that were true.