She had the arrogance of youth, this one. Her husband had clearly allowed her too much rein, and that had made her overly haughty. Nevertheless, I turned to the guardsman. ‘She wants to know whether or not she’ll be allowed to go free, if she tells me what I want to know.’
‘She’s worth nothing to us,’ he answered. ‘Since she won’t so much as tell us her name, there’s no possibility of her kin paying ransom for her. She can go into a nunnery, or take ship back to wherever it is she came from, for all I care.’
I nodded, and faced the girl, who could have understood none of our conversation since we had spoken in French. ‘Whether we decide to let you go depends on what you have to tell me.’
She considered for a moment, then said, ‘I know that you seek the banner that bears the dragon and axe. I know you’re looking for your woman, Oswynn.’
My heart was pounding. I had never told those men the reason why I’d wanted them to fetch this information for me. I had never told them who it was I was really searching for.
‘Oswynn,’ I breathed. ‘Do you know if she still lives?’
‘I cannot say, but I know the name of the man who has her, and I know where you can find him.’
‘Tell me,’ I said, and took a step closer, so that I was looking down upon her.
She did not avert her gaze, or flinch at all. For one so young, she seemed very confident of herself. ‘First, give me your promise.’
‘You have it,’ I said. ‘Now tell me.’
‘I want to hear you say it.’
‘Don’t try my patience, girl,’ I said, and rested my hand upon the hilt of the knife at my waist. ‘I’ve said that you have my promise, and I do not make oaths lightly, so speak. What’s this man’s name?’
She did not flinch, but merely regarded me for a moment. Without taking her eyes off me, she said: ‘The man you’re looking for is Jarl Haakon Thorolfsson. The word I have is that he was last seen in Dyflin.’
Haakon Thorolfsson. A Danish name, and a Danish title, too. Finally I had something more to pursue than simply the face that burnt in my memory and in my nightmares.
‘You’re sure?’ I asked.
‘As sure as anyone can be of anything. Although whether he’s still there, I don’t know. He moves around. I don’t know where he has his hall, or even if he has one.’
Dyflin. The favoured haven of outlaws and sellswords everywhere. I’d never been there but I knew it by its ill repute. A port town, it lay across the sea to the west of Britain, a day’s sail with a good wind from Ceastre, in a violent land of squabbling princelings.
‘How long ago did you hear this?’ I asked.
‘Back in the spring. Four months ago, perhaps. I don’t remember exactly. It was before we came here to Elyg, at any rate.’
Four months ago. My spirits fell. The Danes were well known for their restless spirits, which had seen them settling all across these isles of Britain and far beyond. They were always travelling, rarely staying in one place for very long but moving wherever the winds and the scent of gold took them. This Haakon could be anywhere by now.
‘Why didn’t you tell the man who came to your hall about him?’ I asked.
‘You already know why, lord. Knowledge costs and, as I said, he wasn’t interested in paying. He was content enough to brag about his success and how he’d managed to cheat you. Next time, lord, you should find spies you can trust.’
That was easier said than done. There was no point in telling her that such a man used to visit my manor from time to time. His name had been Byrhtwald, and as well as a reliable bearer of news had also been a good friend for the time that I knew him. He had met his end because of me, and even after a year the guilt for his death still haunted me.
‘How did you come to hear my woman’s name?’
‘My husband served with King Sweyn last year when he came across from Denmark. He was there at Beferlic, as was I. We crossed paths with Haakon a few times while the two armies were quartered together, although he and my husband were not exactly friends. That’s how I came to meet her.’
‘So you’ve seen her?’
‘Only the once, lord. But I can understand why you’re so eager to have her back, and why Haakon was so keen to show her off, too. She’s a rare beauty. Many men would kill to have a woman like her by their side, or in their bed.’
She smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile, and again I sensed mockery in her tone, as if, even at her young age, she knew only too well the desires of men.
‘Where is this husband of yours now?’ I asked, feeling the need to change the subject suddenly. I didn’t like the thought of this girl speaking so of my Oswynn, when she hardly even knew her.
‘Dead, I suppose,’ she replied. ‘The last I saw of him was yesterday morning, when he went to fight against your king in the battle. Since he hasn’t returned yet, I’m guessing he won’t be returning at all.’
Clearly there had been little love in that marriage. What their story was, I could only guess. At that moment, however, I had more pressing concerns.
‘Tell me more about this Haakon,’ I said. ‘Did he also serve Sweyn?’
‘No, he was sworn to the ?theling.’
‘Was?’
‘He isn’t any more.’