‘Tomorrow, at dawn,’ Robert replied. ‘At first the king wanted to attack by night, but he was persuaded to wait until it was light so that we would be able to see more easily the way across the marsh, and that fewer men would lose their lives needlessly.’
He had some sense, then, which was more than I could claim. If I hadn’t been so desperate for adventure and a chance to free my sword-arm – if I hadn’t grown so fixated with recovering the respect that once I had commanded, the fame from which I’d fallen – I wouldn’t now be standing on the verge of losing everything.
‘The enemy will be ready for us,’ Eudo pointed out. ‘They’ll see us coming and have more than enough time to form up in their ranks.’
‘That cannot be helped,’ said Robert. ‘Besides, we only have to hold out until Morcar turns his spears upon his countrymen. When that happens, our task will become much easier.’
‘We, lord?’ Wace asked. ‘Do you mean you’ll be riding with us?’
‘Why not? You’ve risked your skins often enough on my behalf in the last few years. It’s only right that I return the favour. I will not shirk my duties any longer. If I don’t show willingness to place myself in danger, how can I expect my vassals and followers to do the same on my behalf?’ He didn’t wait for us to answer, but went on: ‘Besides, so long as Morcar keeps his promise, we will all make it through this alive.’
‘I still don’t trust him,’ Eudo muttered.
‘Neither do I,’ Robert replied. ‘But what choice do we have?’
To that none of us had any answer. For a while longer we stood in silence, looking out towards the enemy ramparts, and I wondered how we would make it through this battle. Eventually, however, Robert mounted and turned back towards the guardhouse where the smoke of blacksmiths’ furnaces billowed and our banners flew.
‘Come,’ he said. ‘We have only the rest of this day to prepare ourselves. We should make the most of the time that we have.’
Straightaway he turned to ride back across the bridge, his destrier’s hooves clattering upon the timber roadway, and he was closely followed by the others. The sun wasn’t lacking in warmth that morning, but nevertheless I still couldn’t rid myself of the chill, which by then had worked its way into every inch of my body. I gave one final glance at the marshes and the Isle, then swung myself up into the saddle and spurred Fyrheard into a canter so as to catch up with them.
After weeks of waiting and wondering and hoping and despairing, it was finally happening.
Nine
I REMEMBER THAT night so clearly. I remember every such night before a battle, for always there is a keenness in the air, a mixture of anticipation and dread, of restlessness and anguish that is never voiced but is shared amongst all present, and that, once experienced, is never forgotten. And yet that night was different, for in all the seasons since first I rode under my lord’s banner into the fray, never had I felt such trepidation as I did in those few hours.
Even long after the sun had set and the clash of arms had faded and the soft-spoken Latin of the priests giving absolution had ceased, I found myself unable to settle. I wasn’t alone. Despite having spent most of the day in the practice yard, and notwithstanding our drooping eyelids and our heavy limbs, still none of us could sleep. There was nothing more for us to do: our blades were sharpened; our helmets and hauberks polished until they gleamed; our destriers fed and groomed. And so we sat cross-legged, huddled in our cloaks beneath the stars, and watched our cooking-fire dwindle while we recounted stories of battles past, of women we had known, of the marvels we had seen on our travels, of things that had happened when we were young and still in training, of fine weapons and horses, of sword-brothers long since fallen, of the various dreams and desires to which we all clung; and we revelled as much in the listening as in the telling.