He had better eyes than I did, and I had to squint to see them. But indeed there they were, huddled close to both shores. Their masts were down but I could see their hulls, high-sided and narrow in beam: shadows upon the moonlit water. Longships, and as many as a score of them. Perhaps some were the same ones that had chased us on the Use, or perhaps not, but either way Eudo was right. We could not use the wharves.
At the same time we needed somewhere we could keep the boat hidden from sight, since if someone saw it empty and suspected something then they might raise the alarm. But inside the city I could see nowhere that we might easily do so; the land along the banks all lay open.
‘Where, then?’ asked Godefroi.
I gazed ahead of us, scanning each side of the river, and it was then that I saw. From far away the walls looked as though they ran all the way down to the river, but from this vantage it was clear that there was in fact a gap between their end and the water’s edge, where the rampart was crumbling away. It was not wide, nor did it look as if it would be easy to cross, as it was thick with reeds, and probably the ground underfoot would be marshy too. For any larger group it would surely prove impassable. But the boat could be easily concealed amidst the reeds, and besides, we were only six men, and difficult to spot. So long as we didn’t make too much noise we could land this side of the walls and cover the rest of the way on foot, I was sure.
‘There,’ I said, pointing towards the gap. ‘Between the walls and the river.’
‘It’ll be risky,’ said Eudo, after a moment. ‘If there are any sentries up there we’ll be seen for certain.’
‘But they won’t be expecting it,’ Wace put in, and I was grateful for his support. ‘They’ll be looking towards the south, watching for an army, not for a small band like us.’
I glanced at the others, to see what they thought.
‘I agree,’ Godefroi said.
Radulf shrugged, as if indifferent, and I wondered if he had been listening at all. He had better be concentrating, I thought, since otherwise he was likely to get himself killed here tonight, if not the rest of us as well.
‘Philippe?’ I asked.
‘If the wharves are closed to us, I don’t see we have any other choice,’ he replied.
That was as much agreement as it seemed I was going to get.
‘Very well,’ I said, scrambling to the stern. On the way I picked up one of the oars, which I used as a paddle to steer us out of the midstream, closer to the southern shore, where the branches of low-hanging pine trees would offer us some cover. Then I let us drift once more, only using the oar when the current took us too close to the bank, or too far from the trees.
The city loomed closer with each passing moment. Somehow by night it appeared far larger than it had done by day. So forbidding were the shadows that I found it hard to believe that this was the same place where I had spent my recovery all those weeks ago.
Slowly, taking care not to make a sound, I buckled my sword-belt to my waist, then made sure that my mail was hidden beneath my cloak as we approached the walls: banks of earth with a timber palisade running along the top. I looked up, but I could not see any men there. God was with us.
I steered the boat towards the reeds, breathing as lightly as I could, thinking with every slightest splash that we would be heard. The prow slid amongst the first of the tall stems, which rustled gently. By now I could see nothing beyond the clumps of reeds that were in front, behind, all around us. I wanted to get us as close in as I could, so that we had less ground to make on foot, and I steered us towards where I thought they seemed least dense. In the darkness, however, it was difficult to tell, and before long I could feel the bottom of the hull scraping against the riverbed, until, a few moments later, the boat gave a shudder as it ground to a halt. I tried to paddle further, in case this were merely a shallow patch with open water beyond it, but it was no use.
‘We’ll have to walk from here,’ I said.
I got to my feet, keeping my head low until I could be sure that there was no one watching. Some twenty paces away the ramparts rose up. I stepped outside the hull, feeling my boots sink into the soft mud, and then held out a hand as Wace passed me my shield, which I hung around my neck, over my back.
The rest followed, and we set off. The mud sucked, squelched beneath me; it was impossible to tell which parts I could trust with my weight, and so I led them carefully, thinking only about one foot following the other, testing the ground as I went. I glanced up at the ramparts, still ten paces ahead, realising just how exposed we were. This was taking too long. If anyone were to see us—
There came a stifled yell, followed by a great splash behind me and I turned to see Philippe flailing in the muddy water. He was trying to stand up, but his mail was weighing him down and his cloak was tangled about him. He was spluttering, coughing so loudly that I thought the whole city might wake.
I reached out a hand, swearing under my breath. From close by came angry quacking, followed by a clatter of wings as a flock of birds shot up into the night.