I hadn’t intended to mention her then, but I realised I would get no better opportunity than this.
The priest stopped still. Outside, the wind buffeted against the thatch; above our heads, the roof-timbers creaked. The sound of men laughing sounded through from the common room below.
‘How do you know that name?’ ?lfwold asked.
‘Who is she?’
‘It’s none of your concern.’
‘I know that she’s the one you’re meeting in Wiltune,’ I said, feeling my heart begin to pound. It was more a guess than a lie: despite what Robert had said, I could not know for sure, though the chaplain’s reaction suggested that I was right.
He stared at me, blinking, but said nothing.
‘Do you deny it?’ I asked.
‘Who told you that name?’
I thought it unwise to mention Robert, and so changed tack. ‘Is she a lover of Malet’s?’ I demanded. I was on unsteadier ground now, but my blood was rising and I wanted to press the advantage as long as I held it. Had she fled to the nunnery to escape him, perhaps?
‘You dare to insult my lord?’ he shouted. ‘The man to whom you swore an oath of service?’
I had half expected him to say something like that, and was not about to be deflected. ‘Is she?’ I said again.
‘Of course not!’
‘Then who is she?’
‘She used to be wife to the king,’ ?lfwold said, with some impatience.
‘To King Guillaume?’ I asked, confused. As far as I knew, he had only ever been married to his present wife, Mathilda.
‘To the usurper,’ the priest said, his cheeks flushing red. ‘Harold Godwineson.’
This was not at all what I had expected. ‘And what business does Malet have with the usurper’s wife?’
‘What concern is it of yours?’ he said, his voice rising to a screech. ‘It is the vicomte’s private business, which as his chaplain I am privy to. But you are not. You are just a knight, a sworn sword. You are nothing more than a servant!’
I was about to open my mouth to reply – to say that as leader of this party how could it not be my business too – but his last remark stirred a fury inside me, and it was all I could do to restrain myself.
‘Leave me,’ ?lfwold said, his face scarlet. ‘Go and rejoin your men. We ride again tomorrow at dawn. I don’t want to see any of you until then.’
I hesitated, searching for something to say, but I could find no words to convey my disgust at him. Just a knight, a sworn sword. Nothing more than a servant—
‘Leave,’ he repeated.
Casting a final glare at him, I turned, slamming the door behind me.
Twenty-four
THE FOLLOWING DAY passed in relative quiet. I did not speak to the chaplain and he did not speak to me, instead keeping his gaze on the way ahead as long as we were on the road. The few times that I met his eyes, they held only disdain. But if he expected me to offer him an apology, he would be disappointed, for I had said nothing that hadn’t been deserved.
And yet I was still no closer to understanding what his business was with this nun Eadgyth; what was so important that Malet would send his men halfway across the kingdom? The fact that she was the widow of the usurper was significant, it seemed to me, though in what way I could not work out. At least I had managed to glean that much from the priest, whose determination to tell us as little as possible was sorely testing my patience. There would be answers once we reached Wiltune; I would make sure of that.
I told the others none of this, for I was still angry with them. Angry with Eudo, who after his words to me about trust had only betrayed mine in him. Angry with Radulf, who had caused the commotion in the first place. Angry with Wace, whom I had thought would have had more sense. I did not see that they deserved to know what I had learnt. In any case, it would not be long before we were on our way back to Lundene, and thence on to Eoferwic. If it was battle that they wanted, then they would get their chance soon – so long as Malet still held out, I reminded myself.
Hills rose and fell before us like creases upon the fabric of the earth, each valley a tapestry of green and brown, interwoven with silver threads where streams wound their course. Once or twice we spotted deer amidst the trees in the distance, their bodies rigid as statues, watchful heads turned towards us, though most of the time we didn’t see them until they came darting across the road in front of us: three or four, even five at a time, all in a line, bounding one after another.