‘It’s time,’ he said, his voice low. ‘Wake the others. Dawn is nearly upon us.’
As quickly as he had appeared, he was gone. Hurriedly I shook myself free of the coarse woollen blankets in which somehow I had become entangled, pulled on a tunic over my shirt, took a swig of ale from the flask at the foot of my bedroll to moisten my parched throat, and then scrambled out into the half-light. Across the camp men were stirring and dressing for battle, taking whatever food they could stomach and mounting up. Bleary-eyed, I went to Serlo and Pons’s tents and roused them, before donning hauberk and chausses and coif, fastening my helmet-strap, buckling my scabbard upon my waist, checking that both my sword and knife slid easily from their sheaths, and going to help the servant-boys saddle Fyrheard and the other horses.
We led the animals to our conroi’s arranged meeting place by the twisted stump of a wide-bellied oak. There we waited for the rest to assemble. First came Wace together with his three men, and he was soon followed by Eudo, who was doing his best to prise himself free from the grasp of Sewenna, much to the amusement of his knights. Her face was streaming with tears, her hair was loose, and in her eyes was such anger as I had never seen before. With one hand she clung to his arm, while with the other she kept trying to strike him, though he was able to bat each blow away easily, until another of the women – a fair-haired Danish beauty who had pledged herself to one of Eudo’s men – at last spoke some words in her ear and managed to tear her away, upon which the Englishwoman turned and, wailing, fled back towards the tents. Eudo bit his lip as he watched her go, but did not make any attempt to follow her.
‘What happened?’ Wace asked.
Eudo let out a weary sigh. ‘She said that before I rode into battle, we ought first to be wed, as I’d vowed. That way if I happened to die today, at least our souls would find each other in heaven. She even went this morning to find a priest.’
I understood. ‘But you couldn’t.’
He shook his head sadly. ‘You were right. I’ve been a fool. She claims that I misled her with false promises, but it’s not true. I loved her, only not as much as I thought.’
I rested a hand on his shoulder in sympathy, but only for a moment, since Robert’s vassals were almost all assembled, which meant that we were ready to ride. Among them I spied the ruddy-faced Guibert, who had spoken so loudly against the king in the hall at Brandune so long ago it seemed like months, though in fact it was only a week. Whatever ill feeling he might have held towards anyone as a result of that clash was now dissolved, or else buried deep. We could not afford to let petty quarrels divide us. Not now.
Robert himself was the last of all to arrive, flanked by ten of his sworn swords and one of his stable-hands, who bore the banner I had grown to know almost as well as my own: the same banner beneath which for two whole years and more I had rallied, charged and served. It was divided into alternating stripes of black and yellow, and the yellow was shot through with threads of gold so that it would catch the light and be more clearly recognisable in the midst of battle.
Robert passed his lance to one of his retainers, before dismounting and making towards me. His expression was solemn as he extended his arm in greeting. I gripped his wrist, and he mine, and then he embraced me, not as a lord might embrace a vassal of his but rather as if I were of his own kin.
‘I want you to know that you have my gratitude for all that you have done in my name and that of my family,’ he said. ‘I only pray this is not the last time we ride together.’
‘And I, lord,’ I replied. ‘A better lord I have never served.’
The falsehood tasted sour upon my tongue as I remembered some of the grievances I’d uttered against him recently, but what else was I supposed to say?
He attempted a smile, but it was a weak attempt and I knew his heart was not really in it. As nervous as I felt, he looked to me a dozen times worse. He was dressed like the rest of us, but somehow the helmet appeared to sit uneasily upon his head, as if it were too large for his brow, and the hauberk seemed to weigh heavily upon his shoulders. He had never looked entirely at ease in a warrior’s garb, and he looked even less comfortable then.