I knew, though, that if we rode these horses north they would not be fresh when we needed them for the fighting, and so instead we saddled the rounceys we had bought in Suthferebi: the same ones that had also borne us to Wiltune and back. It meant we’d have twice the work, since we were not travelling in our lord’s company and didn’t have the retinue of servants who would usually care for the animals, but we had little choice.
I was leading my horses out into the yard when I spied Beatrice watching us from one of the windows on the up-floor. It was the first time I had seen either of the ladies since we had returned from Wiltune. Her eyes met mine, and she signalled to me, or so I thought, but it was only for a moment, for then she turned and was gone.
‘I should go and tell the ladies we’re to be on our way,’ I said, leaving the others to see to the horses.
‘Don’t be long,’ Wace called after me. ‘We need to leave soon if we’re to make best use of the day.’
There was no one in the hall. Wigod and Osric I knew were in the kitchens, mustering provisions for us to take on the road. I had seen little of the steward that morning; he had hardly spoken to me and in fact seemed to be avoiding me. I could hardly blame him for that.
‘Your lord is a good man,’ I had assured him when I’d met him in the yard earlier. ‘I know it.’
I didn’t feel that I could tell him yet what we had learnt. It was too soon, and still these doubts kept coming into my mind. There was something that we had overlooked, I was sure, though again I could not work out what.
‘There is an explanation for all of this,’ I told the steward. ‘Whatever it is, I will find it.’
‘I trust that you will,’ he’d replied solemnly before hurrying away.
I ventured now up the stairs, towards the family chambers, which were at the far end of the up-floor. The door was fitted with a sturdy iron lock, while at either end of the lintel above it were carved the shapes of flowers with wide petals.
I knocked on the door; Beatrice opened it. Her face was drawn, as if she had not slept well. Her hair fell loosely across her shoulders, which took me slightly by surprise, but then she was in her own house, in her own chambers, where she had no need to keep it covered.
‘Come in,’ she said.
I remembered the last time we were together – the kiss she had laid upon my cheek – and suddenly I felt the same shiver running through me.
I tried to put it from my mind as I entered, finding myself in a small anteroom. A light breeze blew in through open shutters, and I could hear the rest of the men talking down in the yard. On one wall hung bright tapestries depicting a hunt in progress: men on horseback pursuing a tusked boar, with dogs running beside them, while other men waited with bows raised and arrows notched, waiting for the moment to let loose their fingers. An embroidered rug lay on the floor; at the other end of the chamber were two chairs, positioned either side of carved double doors.
‘Is your mother here?’ I asked.
‘She is still abed,’ Beatrice replied, glancing towards the doors. ‘She worries for my father.’
‘As do we all, my lady.’ I did not like to think what she might say if she knew I had been accusing him first of consorting with Harold’s widow, then of conspiring against the king.
‘She has had stomach pains for several days. Since Robert left she has been hardly sleeping at night, and she is eating less and less during the day. Some days she barely goes beyond her room.’
‘I’m sure ?lfwold will care for her, now that he’s here.’ The words did not come easily, and I had to force them out. I was no longer sure of anything when it came to the priest.
‘I know,’ she said.
‘You’ve known him a long time, haven’t you?’
‘Almost all my life,’ she replied. ‘He came into my father’s service when I was very young.’
‘How young?’
‘Five, perhaps six summers old,’ she said. ‘No more than that. Why?’
‘What do you remember of him from then?’
She frowned at the question. ‘I don’t see what—’
‘Please,’ I said. ‘I’d like to know.’
For a moment she hesitated, her brown eyes searching, but then she bowed her head. ‘He often took care of me when I was small and my father was away on campaign,’ she said. ‘He liked to teach me things: how to speak English, to read Latin, to play chess. Even when I was older he was always ready to listen when I had something to say, always watching over me.’
‘You trust him, then?’ I asked.
She stared at me as if I were mad. ‘There are few whom I trust more,’ she retorted. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Because he is English.’
‘As are many of my father’s men,’ she snapped, her voice rising. ‘And his own mother too; you must know that.’ She continued to stare, but I said nothing, and eventually she turned away, towards the open window, looking out over the yard and the men and horses below. Her hair fluttered in the breeze, catching the light like threads of gold; her breasts rose and fell as she sighed.
‘I see you’re leaving again,’ she said.
‘We have to go if we’re to meet with the king’s army before it reaches Eoferwic.’
She drew away from the window, turning to face me again. ‘You must promise that you will do all you can to aid my brother, and to rescue my father.’