‘Go,’ Wace said, alongside my exposed flank. ‘Faster; ride harder!’ His sword flashed and the enemy fell before us, and I was riding onwards, onwards, onwards.
And then we were past them and on the main street once again, except that the way to the stronghold was blocked and the enemy were streaming through the alleys with fire and steel in their hands, hacking down those few who remained. There were corpses everywhere and the earth was stained crimson. Above us, behind the palisade which crowned the promontory, the mead-hall was burning; great flames writhed up towards the clouds above, twisting around each other, quickly breaking out across the whole of the thatch as the wind gusted down from the north.
‘We need to find Lord Robert,’ I breathed, wiping my hand across my face, as if that might somehow dispel everything I saw before me. A fresh surge of pain coursed through my leg, but I bit it back. ‘We need to find Eudo.’
‘Not now,’ Wace said, and he tore the reins from my grasp, tugging Rollo away, towards the river and the bridge. For the enemy had spotted us and they were running towards us, sensing more blood. I sat frozen in the saddle, my whole body numb as I stared at them, scarce believing what was happening. I had no sword, the rim of my shield had split, my mount was almost spent, and I knew that all was lost.
‘Ride,’ Wace said, already spurring his horse on down the slope towards the bridge.
I looked back at the town, at the hordes of Englishmen who were giving chase, at the few Normans in the distance, still fighting desperately on. I heard the cries that came from the fastness, the scrape of steel upon mail, the roars of victory from the enemy, and the battle-thunder, which was louder than ever. A plume of smoke blew in front of me, blocking my sight, and then at last I turned, following Wace as he raced down towards the river. Hooves sounded hollow against stone as we passed across the bridge, over the cold black waters.
‘On,’ I told Rollo.
The cries still filled my ears but I did not look back, watching only where my mount placed his tired feet as we climbed up amongst the trees. Rain began to spit upon us once more, and as the drops grew heavier, slowly the noises from the town started to fade.
‘On,’ I whispered, to none but myself. The water ran off my nasal-guard, seeping inside my mail and my tunic, and the darkness closed in around us as we rode deeper into the woods, into the night.
Four
WE DID NOT stop until dawn. The woods were dense, the hills steep and the paths treacherous, but we pressed on nonetheless. The more miles we could put between ourselves and the enemy, the better. I didn’t know whether they might send riders out to chase down those who had fled, but I had no wish to find out.
The whole sky was covered in cloud; no stars or moon could be seen. Still the rain fell, the drops bouncing off my helmet. Underneath I was soaked through, my tunic, shirt and braies all clinging to my skin as water mingled with sweat. My calf felt as though it were aflame, while each gust of wind was like a lance through my back. My cloak offered no protection, hanging damp and heavy around me, stained with the blood of my foes and some that might have been my own; I could not tell, and in truth I did not care. None of it mattered, for the battle had been lost, and Oswynn was dead.
If only I hadn’t left her. I should have stayed, or else taken her with us, for then she would have been safe. As I had ridden away to join the others I had not even looked back. But then I couldn’t have known that by leaving her there, I would be leaving her to her death.
I couldn’t have known, I kept telling myself, repeating the words over and over in my head. I couldn’t have known.
I felt tears welling up inside but tried to hold them back. I should have left her in the south. Instead, by bringing her to this godforsaken place, I had failed her, just as I had failed Fulcher and Gérard. I had known those two for so many years; together we had fought through so much, away from the field of battle as well as on it.
I closed my eyes. Gérard, Fulcher, Oswynn: all of them now dead. And I was the one who, through my foolishness, had killed them.
I swallowed, wiping a hand across my eyes, brushing away the moisture that I could feel forming. I wondered what had happened to Eudo and Mauger, Ivo and Hedo and all the rest of my conroi, and prayed that they too had managed to get away: that they and Lord Robert were all safe.