But we were not most folk.
The further north we sailed, the steeper and darker grew the islands that rose like jagged mountains out of the sea, the more thickly wooded they became, and the fewer signs we saw of anyone living there. No wisps of smoke rose towards the slate-grey skies; no sheep grazed upon the hillsides; no fishermen’s hovels stood above the shoreline. These were sparse, barren lands, where the inhabitants of the one village we did come across were subject to no king that they knew of, whether English or Scots or Irish or Danish. Indeed, if any lord at all held sway in these parts, they had not heard of him. They tended their chickens and their few goats, and sometimes sold their goods to passing merchants and other travellers, though not often, and for the most part those were the only souls they saw outside of their own valley. But when Eithne and Magnus, who both happened to speak their language or something very like it, mentioned to them the name of Haakon Thorolfsson, and asked if he had been heard of recently, they all made the sign of the cross and began babbling at once.
‘He came to these parts only a week ago, they say,’ Eithne told me. ‘They all started running as soon as they saw the crimson sails of his ship appearing from the mist, but it turned out he hadn’t come with any intention of raiding.’
These people had precious little that was worth stealing, so that was no great surprise. ‘What did he want?’
‘He was looking for men who could hold a spear. He offered to give two sheep and five geese to every man who would go with him for the winter, although naturally they were all suspicious of him, and so none accepted.’
‘Why would he be looking to hire spearmen?’ Magnus wondered aloud. ‘He can’t be planning on going foraging at this time of year, surely?’
‘Maybe he’s looking to bolster his defences,’ I said.
‘But why?’ The Englishman hesitated. ‘Unless—’
‘Unless he knows we’re coming,’ I finished for him.
And I could explain, too, how he knew. Only one person who wasn’t a part of our expedition was aware that we were seeking out Jarl Haakon, and why. I wondered how much he’d been paid for his information, and felt embarrassed at having only the other evening been concerned for him out there on the wild and open ocean. Now I hoped that he choked on his next meal.
Old Snorri, who had deceived us with his friendly manner, had betrayed us to our enemy.
Haakon knew, then, that Magnus was coming for him, and that was why he was looking to purchase the services of fighting men, to help guard the walls of his stronghold. But I hadn’t revealed my real name to the trader, so Haakon couldn’t yet know that accompanying Harold’s son was the knight Tancred, nor that he brought with him a second shipload of warriors, allies from England. He remained ignorant of exactly how many we numbered, and that was one advantage we still held over him.
Events in England had been moving apace in the short time that I’d been away. During those days as we crept up the coast of northern Britain, Wace and Eudo related how King Guillaume had accepted the submission of the principal leaders of the Elyg rebels, granting forgiveness and receiving them at court. No sooner had they dismissed their armies and sent all their followers home in time for the ploughing season, however, than he cast them all in chains and confined them to the castle dungeon at Cantebrigia until he decided what to do with them.
‘He did that?’ I asked, having joined my countrymen on Wyvern. I found it difficult to believe that the king, who was not usually one to break a pledge, and indeed prided himself on that reputation, would go back on his word, and in so blatant a fashion.
‘That’s what we’ve been hearing,’ Eudo said. He turned to Godric. ‘It means there’ll be no earldom for your uncle. All Morcar’s estates and those of his vassals have been confiscated.’
Godric grunted. His lips were set firm, his expression unfeeling. ‘It’s no more than he deserves.’
Wace grinned and clapped a hand on his shoulder. ‘It’s lucky that you’re with Tancred now, isn’t it, whelp?’
‘Otherwise you’d be rotting away along with Morcar in whatever dank prison the king finds for him,’ Eudo added.
Godric said nothing, and I wondered if he wasn’t perhaps feeling a little guilty at having evaded such a fate, at having turned his back upon his uncle, who had, after all, sheltered him for so many years. Yet he had nothing to feel ashamed of. Morcar had broken promise after promise, first to the king and then to the rebels, committing one betrayal after another, playing both sides to his advantage. In hindsight he’d been foolish to think that the king would act any more honourably towards him. He had brought about his own ruin.
‘They’re still looking for Hereward, you know,’ Wace said.