Even long after she had vanished from sight, I remained there. While my mare wandered, I stood by the cliff-edge and stared down the length of the fjord towards the sea, searching for I knew not what, listening to the waves crash and froth against the rocks below, feeling hollow inside.
How long I spent standing there, lost in my thoughts, with the cold winter wind tugging at my cloak, I don’t know. By the time I heard the hoofbeats approaching from behind, cloud had come across the sky, veiling the sun, and a soft drizzle was beginning to fall.
‘Lord!’
I glanced over my shoulder. It was Godric.
‘We were starting to get worried,’ he said as he checked his horse, dismounted and came to me by the cliff’s edge. ‘No one knew where to find you.’
‘Well, you’ve found me now.’
The words came out more sourly than I meant them, although if Godric noticed, he didn’t seem to take any offence. Sighing, I gazed out across the waters once more, doing my best to ignore the Englishman, hoping that if I paid him no attention he would simply leave me be.
‘Are you all right, lord?’ he asked, clearly sensing the disquiet raging within me.
‘I’m thinking,’ I replied.
‘About what?’
I hesitated, unsure whether to trust with my innermost thoughts someone who only a few weeks ago had been a stranger to me. ‘About whether I’ll see Earnford, or so much as set foot on English shores, ever again.’
Godric did not answer straightaway, and I wondered if his mind was on the estate at Corbei that his uncle had granted him, which the king had seized along with the lands and properties of all Morcar’s followers.
‘You will, lord,’ he said after a short while. ‘I know it. We all will, someday.’
He smiled gently, but the firmness of his tone told me that he was not simply trying to lift my spirits, but that he truly believed it. I wished I had his confidence. Still, perhaps he was right. Perhaps in time I would find myself feasting in my own hall once more, with my friends around me, music filling the air and ale and wine flowing, and all would be well with the world.
I smiled in return as I tousled Godric’s hair. He tried to squirm away, protesting, and I chuckled. He had done more in my service than I could ever have expected of him. Of course he had much to learn still, but he was eager and showed promise both as a swordsman and as a rider. In years to come he would make a good warrior, I thought. And I would be proud not just to teach him but also to count him as a friend.
For the truth was that I was not alone, nor would I ever be. Not as long as I had men like Godric, like Serlo and like Pons. They had followed me to the ends of Britain, and I had no doubt that they would follow me still, to the farthest parts of Christendom and even beyond.
The sun broke through a crack between the clouds, and I felt its slight warmth penetrate the chill that, until then, had held me in its grip: a chill that had first descended as I’d held Oswynn, dying, in my arms, and which had not left me since. And as that warmth touched my skin, so something stirred within me. To call it a thrill did not seem right, for my heart was still too full of grief to allow that. Still, as I looked out over the wide, shining waters, it struck me that beyond them existed a whole world I hadn’t yet seen. A world beyond England, beyond Normandy and France. Lands I’d seen in my dreams, of which I had heard tales, but which I had never glimpsed with my own eyes. And, for the first time in my life, I had both the means and the opportunity to see that world.
‘Come on,’ I said to Godric as I turned away from the cliff’s edge and marched towards my horse, which was grazing contentedly close by. ‘It’s time we left this place.’
‘Where are we going?’ he called after me.
‘Wherever the winds take us!” I shouted above the gusts as I mounted up and coaxed the mare into a canter back in the direction of our camp.
For I had a ship. I had silver. I had men who were loyal to me. What else did I need?
If experience had taught me one thing, it was that the sword-path is never a straight road, but rather ever-changing, encompassing many twists and turns. All a man can do is follow it and see where it leads. I had followed mine, and this was where it had taken me. But my journey was not over yet. Whatever fate awaited me, I was still to find it.
The sword-path beckoned, and so, for good or for ill, I would keep on following it. Wherever the promise of glory and riches took me, that was where I would go. To live. To fight. To strive. To forge a reputation that would live on long after I had departed this earth.
That was who I was, and who I would continue to be.
I, Tancred.
Historical Note