‘May God be with us, Tancred,’ he said, and with that he left me, mounting up and riding to the head of the conroi while I took my place with my knights. Everyone fell quiet as he unlaced his ventail, letting the flap of mail hang loose by his neck.
‘I’ve just had word that our foot-warriors have set out for the Isle,’ he said, raising his voice so that all could hear. ‘The moment we receive the signal that their attack is under way, we will begin crossing the bridge. From then on there will be no turning back.’ He paused to allow the import of that to settle, before continuing: ‘In all my years I have never known warriors more valiant than you. Regardless of what fate awaits us, I consider it the greatest honour to ride amongst you today, and to fight by your sides. May God and the saints bring us victory, and lend us the courage and the fortune to see this day through.’
It wasn’t the most rousing battle-speech I had ever heard, but it was heartfelt, and powerful for that alone. In any case it would have to do, for the skies were quickly growing lighter, the stars fading, which meant that the time for words had passed. Robert led us from the shadow of the guardhouse, its high ramparts and the crowning palisade, down to the flat stretch of land beside the marsh, where dozens upon scores upon hundreds of horsemen were already gathered, their many-coloured banners and pennons barely fluttering in the still air, their horses tossing their heads and pawing restlessly at the turf. Their exact number I could not say, though it was probably close to a thousand, with more arriving still. These were some of the finest knights ever to ride in the name of Normandy.
And we would be leading them all in the charge. Had someone told me when I was a youth and a warrior in training that such an honour would one day be mine, I wouldn’t have been able to stop laughing. Even now I scarcely believed it. Yet here I was.
I half expected to find Atselin and his clerks overseeing the muster, tallying up knights on his wax tablet, but if he was there I could not spot him. It was hard to miss King Guillaume, though, surrounded as he was by his household guards, his helmet adorned with a tail formed from two scarlet strips of cloth that marked him out, lest anyone lose sight of him in the fray. Holding the banner bearing the lion of Normandy in one hand, he galloped up and down the ranks of horsemen, bellowing instructions, drawing the assembled host into ordered ranks and grouping smaller bands of four and five into larger conrois of twenty, thirty, forty. A few glanced up as we passed on our way to the front of the column, and someone must have recognised our banner, for I heard him call out Robert’s name, and then a cheer went up, and a hundred men and more were raising fists and weapons to the sky. Hearing the commotion, the king turned and watched us for a long while, though he did not speak. His mouth was set firm, his countenance betraying no feeling, and at that moment I glimpsed with my own eyes the iron resolve for which he was renowned. Never once had he failed in any task he took upon himself, and in the same way I understood that he would not fail now. For five years he had striven to defend his right to this kingdom. This would be the morning when he would finish what had begun with the slaying of the usurper at H?stinges. This would be the morning of his victory. Whatever misgivings the rest of us had, he truly believed it.
We took our positions at the head of the column. Behind us lay an army to wreak terror in the hearts of all but the most hardened of foes. Ahead lay only the fen, with the so-called bridge winding its way towards the Isle, with small pinpricks of light dotted along its length where watch-fires had been set to ward off any would-be attackers. Of the fleet of boats and punts carrying our foot-serjeants, or the opposite shore, the enemy behind their walls, I could see nothing.
I turned to Robert, who was alongside me. ‘What now?’
‘Now we wait for the signal.’
As a conroi we had rehearsed the sequence of events over and over the previous afternoon, committing it all to memory so that every man knew exactly what he was to do and when. We had been told what that signal would be, and what pace we would set across the bridge so that our host did not bunch together and at the same time did not become too stretched out. But sitting there in the saddle, waiting for the word to be given and the attack to begin, suddenly I wanted to hear it all again.