‘Since King Guillaume ordered it,’ I cut in, tiring of this exchange. I was trying to decide whom I disliked more: Hamo or Atselin. ‘Now, do you like the taste of sharpened steel? If so, keep talking and I’ll ram my blade down your throat. Otherwise leave us in peace.’
That shut him up. After a final sneer in our direction, he turned away from the parapet towards his comrades, who were still sniggering, although whether at our exchange or at some private joke, I couldn’t tell.
We continued on our way. Even now, men were working on various sections of the bridge: revetting the dykes with timber to hold the earth more firmly in place; and repairing parts that had slipped away into the bogs – tipping gravel and stones into the breaches, and then shovelling soil on top of that foundation and packing it so that it was even and firm.
‘This is a foolish idea,’ Eudo said, shaking his head as we passed those labourers. ‘If these banks are already collapsing under their own weight, think what will happen when a thousand mailed knights are riding over them.’
‘It’ll hold,’ Robert repeated. ‘The king has summoned his best engineers from Normandy to oversee the work. They have knowledge of these things. We have to trust in their expertise.’
Eudo returned a grim expression.
‘Robert’s right,’ I said. ‘If the bridge were to collapse and we lose this war because of it, then their lives will be forfeit. They won’t fail.’
I could only pray that their work was finished before we made our assault, which could now be only a few days away at most. Thus far there had been no word, only rumour, but restraint was not a quality that men often ascribed to King Guillaume. He would be hungry for battle, eager to let his fuller run with the blood of those who dared defy him, and for that reason many, myself among them, suspected it would not be long.
Soon we came to what was, for now at least, the final stretch of the bridge, for it came to an abrupt end a few hundred paces short of the Isle. In front of us stretched a wide, glistening mere.
‘And how are we meant to cross the rest of the way?’ asked Wace as he scratched at his injured eye. ‘Does he mean us to swim?’
‘The plan is for our foot-serjeants, spearmen and archers to lead the attack,’ Robert explained. ‘They’ll cross the fen in punts and rowing boats and hold the enemy at bay while the last few boat-bridges are drawn into position. Once they’re secured, the way will be clear for the rest of us to begin the assault proper.’
Eudo snorted. ‘Is there no simpler way of doing this?’
‘If there were, don’t you think someone would have suggested it by now?’ Robert replied tersely.
We gazed out across the marshes in silence. On a ridge of higher ground perhaps a quarter of a mile to the north rose the enemy’s ramparts, twice as high as the ones surrounding our own guardhouse, I reckoned. Arrayed atop them were banners in all colours and sizes and shapes, with designs that at this distance I couldn’t make out, all flapping resplendently in the breeze. Beneath those banners were hundreds upon hundreds of glinting shield-bosses and helmets, men in mail and men without, their spearpoints gleaming, in a line that stretched the entire length of the wall. Watching us.
‘All I know is that I don’t want to find myself in the leading conroi,’ I said. ‘If those boat-bridges aren’t properly secured, whoever arrives upon them first is going to find himself a watery grave.’
Even now I recalled only too well the screams of those who had perished when the original causeway collapsed, as the weight of their mail dragged them beneath the murky waters. Fyrheard only needed to lose his footing or to panic for the briefest of moments, and I might find myself sharing the same fate.
I glanced at the others. Their faces bore grim expressions, and I could tell they were all of the same mind. All except for Robert, that was, who alone would not meet my gaze.
I knew him well enough by then to be able to sense when something was amiss. ‘What is it, lord?’
‘I ought to have told you sooner.’
‘Told us what, lord?’ asked Wace.
‘I spoke with the king earlier this morning,’ said Robert, shaking his head. ‘I did my utmost to try to change his mind, but he wouldn’t listen—’
He broke off and turned away to look out across the glittering marshes.
‘Whatever it is, say it,’ I said impatiently, even though I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know.