‘Hidden?’ said Wace. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Don’t you understand?’ The priest rose to his feet, staring at each of us in turn. ‘There are many who still support Harold, even this long after his death – many who now regard him as a martyr. If the place of his burial were to be made widely known, it could become the centre of a cult, a rallying point for rebellion. The king cannot allow that to happen. No one may know where the body is – not even Eadgyth.’
The priest was right, I realised. There were already many who wished to see us gone from these shores. I thought of the army that had attacked us at Dunholm, which even now was besieging the castle at Eoferwic – all those thousands of men. How many more might there be if King Guillaume had allowed the English to openly honour the usurper?
‘Do you know?’ I demanded of ?lfwold.
‘No!’ he said. ‘I told you. Only the vicomte knows. Even I am not trusted with such knowledge.’
That hardly surprised me, but I did not say it. Certainly after all that had happened in the course of our travels, I would hardly trust him. Though Malet had felt secure enough at least to give him the letter in the first place. But then again, there had been nothing in it of any consequence, even if one knew what it was referring to—
And all of a sudden I understood how the pieces fitted together. ‘So that was what he meant,’ I said, turning to Eudo and Wace. ‘He couldn’t risk telling her where it was, in case word got out, and so that was all that he could say. Tutus est. “It is safe.”’
‘How do you know that?’ ?lfwold said. Anger flashed across his face as he turned to look at me.
I opened my mouth to speak, but I had no answer. Silently I cursed myself for having let it slip.
‘The vicomte will hear of this,’ ?lfwold said, and it was not the first time that I had heard those words from him. ‘You swore an oath to him!’
‘We thought he was conspiring with Eadgyth against the king,’ Wace said.
The chaplain gazed sternly at him. ‘And so instead you betray the confidence which he placed in you. You are fools, all of you. You think you know what you’re doing, but you’re just interfering in matters that are beyond you. Lord Guillaume is no traitor, and never has been.’
I remained silent. Beside me, Eudo sheathed his sword.
‘What about the other three?’ ?lfwold asked. ‘Have they had a part in this too?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘They haven’t.’
‘Perhaps that is as well.’ The chaplain sighed. ‘Now, I’ve told you all that I know. You have what you wanted. Leave me, please.’
He closed his eyes as if in silent prayer. This was the man who had done so much for me after my injury at Dunholm. What had happened to our friendship to cause it to sour so quickly – to sow such distrust, such enmity?
I nodded to Wace and Eudo and we went, closing the door as he sat down upon the bed, his head bowed, hands clasped before him. We had what we had come for, which meant that we could now return to Eoferwic in good conscience. After everything, Malet was to be trusted.
And yet despite that, for some reason I could not help but feel uneasy, though at what I could not say exactly. Something in what the priest had said, perhaps: something that did not quite make sense. I no longer knew what to think. So far all my suspicions had been misplaced. We had held ?lfwold at sword-point; we had got all that we could from him. What else was there?
In any case we had other concerns now. The rebels awaited us in Eoferwic, and whether we fought for Malet, or in the name of Normandy or out of vengeance for Lord Robert, what was important was that we were there. For the army of King Guillaume was marching, and I meant to be with it when it struck.
We gathered at the stables the next morning as soon as we had broken our fast. ?lfwold was not to be seen, which I took to mean that he wouldn’t be coming with us. In truth I was glad, for I had seen far more of him this past week than I would have wished, and my patience with him was all but spent.
Each of us took two mounts. Wigod had supplied us with destriers from Malet’s own stables, and others he had managed to purchase while we had been away. He had a good eye for horseflesh, it turned out, for each one of them was in fine condition, strong and spirited as a knight’s mount needed to be. As the leader of our small conroi, I assumed first choice – a brown with powerful hindquarters and a white diamond on his forehead – leaving the other knights to decide between themselves.