Knights of the Hawk (Conquest #3)

‘Spoke with her where? Does she still live at the abbey at Wiltune?’


So he knew of her whereabouts. ‘This was a couple of years ago, but yes. She is safe there, and seemed in good health, too, though she grieves for your father, and greatly misses her sons.’

‘She told you that?’

I nodded. That last part I had made up, although Magnus would never guess that. Fresh tears ran down his cheek.

‘I have not seen her in more than five years,’ he said. ‘Not since she and my father left Lundene to face your duke in battle. He forbade me and my brothers from going with him, said we were too young, though I was already fifteen winters old then and they were older still. I would rather have suffered death in the shield-wall than endured the pain of exile.’

There was silence for a while. A cold draught gusted in as the door opened and two red-haired men with thick arms and broad shoulders entered. I guessed they were brothers for they shared the same wide brows and prominent ears. They caught me staring at them and I turned away. I had no wish to cause trouble here tonight.

I looked Magnus in the eye. ‘You will not win back your father’s kingdom,’ I said, as gently as I could, in a low voice so that the Irishmen wouldn’t hear.

He shook his head, but it could not be denied. These were words he needed to hear.

‘You can’t,’ I went on. ‘Not now. That battle is over. England belongs to King Guillaume. But you can win back your honour and your pride. And I will help you do it.’

‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Why would you help me?’

‘Because Guillaume is my king no longer,’ I said. ‘Like you, I’m an outlaw, an exile, lordless and landless. All I have left are oaths, and the loyalty of those with me. I’ve spent long enough fighting wars on the behalf of others, risking my life for precious little reward. But no more.’

‘How do I know I can trust you?’

‘Isn’t it enough that we share an enemy?’

‘If we’re to fight alongside one another, I want to know who’s guarding my flank.’

That was only fair, I thought. He had been honest with me regarding who he was, and now I would be honest with him in return.

‘Snorri was right,’ I admitted. ‘My name isn’t Goscelin. I’m no Fleming, nor am I a simple traveller.’

‘Then who—?’

‘Listen and I’ll tell you. My name is Tancred.’ I paused for a moment to see if that meant anything to him, but it looked as though I was to be disappointed. ‘I’m the man who won the gates at Eoferwic, who fought Eadgar on the bridge and almost killed him. I’m the one who gave him his scar. I was the one who led the attack upon Beferlic, who fired the ships and helped destroy his storehouses. If it weren’t for me, the ?theling you hate so much would be master of England by now.’

He had fallen quiet by then, his lips pursed, and I took that as a sign that my words had had their desired effect. I’d been relying on the supposition that even if news of the rebellion on the Isle hadn’t yet reached his ears, he’d at least have heard the tales of how Eadgar and his allies were routed in those great battles. And it seemed I was right.

‘If there’s anyone who can help you do this, it’s me,’ I said. ‘That’s why you should trust me.’





Twenty-one

FORTUNATELY MAGNUS SEEMED to be convinced by my reasoning, which was just as well, since I doubted my coin would extend to hiring for myself an army sufficient for this task, as well as a guide who knew the islands and the sea-routes of the Suthreyjar, and not to mention a ship as well. God’s favour was clearly shining upon me, and I accepted with no little thanks these gifts He’d sent my way, welcome as they were after everything I’d endured in recent weeks.

Thus while Nihtegesa was being repaired and caulked ready for our voyage in the days that followed, Magnus rode out in person to solicit the support of those of his followers who dwelt outside the city.

‘Most of them left when it was clear I no longer had the means to pay them,’ he told me. ‘It would have been fruitless to try to prevent them going, so I released them from their oaths. Some have taken service with other lords; a few have found themselves Irish wives and a corner of land on which to settle. Still, if I seek them out and tell them what I have in mind, I hope that a few at least will be willing to rejoin me.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ I said.

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