Knights of the Hawk (Conquest #3)

‘In the meantime,’ the king said to Morcar, ‘you’ll come with me.’ He turned his gaze upon myself and Wace, although his expression showed no sign of recognition. ‘You too. Bring every man you can muster.’


‘Where are we going, lord?’ I asked.

‘To Elyg!’ he shouted over his shoulder as he galloped away. His household guards fell into close formation around him, and they made towards the head of the main part of our host, which was once more forming up in its ranks and columns. Frenchmen cheered as he passed, showing their respect for the man whose vision and unfailing resolve had, despite the months of setbacks and frustrations, despite the misgivings of almost every man in his army, despite the fact that the odds had not favoured us, led us to this victory.

Except that it was not won yet. There remained Elyg and Hereward. For all Morcar’s conviction that he was as good as dead, I would believe it only when I saw it with my own eyes. Indeed if I’d learnt but one thing of Hereward in recent weeks, it was that he was not a man to be underestimated.

Morcar, red-faced, was calling for someone to fetch him a horse. When a servant-boy finally brought one to him, he was rewarded for his trouble with a clout around the ear that sent him sprawling. The earl noticed me watching him and scowled, as if I were somehow responsible for having brought the king’s wrath upon him.

‘Come on,’ I said to Pons and Serlo, gesturing for them to follow as I mounted up. ‘Let’s go.’

‘What about them?’ Pons asked, meaning Thurcytel and his men. ‘We’re not going to leave them, are we?’

The disappointment on his face was clear. The capture of one of the rebel leaders would bring us not just glory but riches too, and I was as reluctant as he to give those things up. But the king had spoken. Once the Isle belonged fully to us, then we could begin to think about prisoners, but not before. Not while there was still work to be done.

‘We have no choice,’ I said. ‘Now, with me!’

We were in danger of being left behind. The king’s banner was already on the move, striking out across the flat country to the north and east, in the direction of Elyg. I searched among the assembled banners for the black and gold, and found it towards the middle of the column. Robert was there, together with his knights, most of whom seemed unhurt save for some small scratches and cuts, although as we grew closer I could see that our numbers were decidedly thinner than they had been.

Only then did I realise that one of us was missing.

Robert saw us then, and came over to greet us, but before he could say anything I asked him, ‘Where’s Eudo?’

He glanced first at myself and then at Wace, frowning as if not quite understanding. ‘I thought he was with you.’

‘He was,’ Wace said. ‘And now he isn’t.’

I turned to Serlo and Pons. ‘You were close to him in the fray, when the English had us surrounded,’ I said. ‘Did you see what happened to him?’

‘No, lord,’ said Serlo, while Pons merely shook his head.

I swore under my breath, at the same time trying to think when and where I had last seen him. I didn’t recall having spotted him fall, but that meant nothing, for in the heat of battle one’s world becomes narrowed, and there are many things that one cannot hope to notice amidst the din of steel on steel, screaming horseflesh and the glittering blades of the enemy.

‘He’ll be all right,’ Robert said, laying a hand upon my arm in reassurance. ‘He can take care of himself.’

‘His knights were with him,’ Wace pointed out. ‘They’ll have seen him to safety, I’m sure.’

I hoped Wace was right, and silently prayed that the cost of victory here today did not turn out to be Eudo’s life. If it were, I would never forgive myself.

We arrived outside Elyg a little more than an hour later. The skies were ablaze with pinks and oranges and the sun was rising, steadily burning away the remaining tendrils of marsh-mist, and glaring so brightly off the still fens that we had to shield our eyes.

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