Philippe found us not long after, and we left him together with Godefroi to stand vigil over Radulf. I did not know how long they had known him, or how well, but both seemed to take his death hard, and I thought it better to let them grieve by themselves while we sought out the vicomte. And someone had to stay with him, since now that the battle was over the time had come for plunder, and with his mail and helm and sword, the body of a knight held much that was of worth.
I rode with Wace and Eudo towards the minster, leaving the king and his assembled lords behind us. There was still no sign of Malet or his son, and I was beginning to grow worried when we turned up towards the market square and saw the black and gold flying before us. The vicomte was there, dressed in mail, though he had removed his helmet. Gilbert de Gand stood beside him, with the red fox upon his flag, and accompanying them both were some forty of their knights. Their spearpoints shone bright in the sun; their pennons were limp rags, soiled with the blood of the enemy.
We left our horses and made our way through the crowd. I was about to call out when I saw Malet embracing another man of around the same height: a man dressed all in black with a gilded scabbard on his sword-belt. Robert. Of course as far as the vicomte could have known, his son had been in Normandy all this while. How long must it have been since they had last seen one another?
I waited, not wanting to interrupt, but at last they stepped back, and Robert saw us. A grin broke across his face as he beckoned us over.
‘This is the man who saved my life,’ he said to his father. He was nursing his forearm where it had been wounded, I noticed; the cloth was bound tightly around it still. ‘One of your knights, I believe. Tancred a Dinant. A fine warrior.’
Malet smiled. He looked somehow older than I remembered, his grey hair flecked with white, his face more gaunt, and I wondered what toll the siege had exacted upon him.
‘Indeed he is,’ he said, and extended a hand. ‘It’s been some time, Tancred.’
I took it, smiling back. His grip, at least, was as firm as always. ‘It’s good to see you too, my lord.’
‘And Wace and Eudo as well, I see.’ He smiled. ‘Where are the others?’
‘Radulf is dead, lord,’ I said, bowing my head. ‘He was injured in the battle; he died of his wounds. Philippe and Godefroi are with him now.’
‘He fought bravely?’
‘He did,’ Wace said. ‘I was with him. He sent many of the enemy to their deaths.’
Malet nodded, his expression sombre. ‘He was a good man, loyal and determined. His death is regrettable, but he will not be forgotten.’
‘No, lord.’
‘Come,’ said Robert. ‘We will grieve for him in time, just as we’ll mourn all those who have fallen. But this is an hour for rejoicing. Eoferwic is ours. The rebels are defeated—’
‘Not defeated,’ I interrupted him. For all the scores upon scores of Englishmen that had been slain, I remembered the hundreds more that had filled the decks of their ships, that had managed to get away. I turned to face Malet. ‘Eadgar managed to escape, lord. It was my fault. I had the chance to kill him, and I failed.’
‘You wounded him,’ Eudo said. ‘You did more than any other man could manage.’
I shook my head. If my blow had struck him full in the face, rather than upon his cheek-plate, it might at least have dazed him enough that I could have cut him down. But it had not, and instead he lived.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Malet said. ‘What’s done is done and cannot now be changed. And Robert is right. Whatever battles there may be to come, it is this victory we must celebrate.’
‘Lord,’ someone called, and I turned to see Ansculf riding towards us, the black-and-gold banner raised in the three fingers of his shield-hand, a grin upon his face. Behind him rode the rest of Robert’s conroi, their mail and their shields spattered with crimson.
‘My men are waiting for me,’ said Robert as he turned his horse about. ‘No doubt we will meet again later.’
I watched as he mounted up and rode to join them, taking the banner from Ansculf, lifting it to the sky as his horse reared up, before he and his conroi galloped down the street.
‘I hear my wife and daughter are safe in Lundene,’ Malet said once he had gone.
‘They are,’ I said.
‘That is good to hear. And my message has been delivered to Wiltune, as I instructed?’
I glanced at Eudo and Wace, unsure what to say. He had been bound to ask at some point, though I had hoped he wouldn’t. But I could not lie to this man, to whom I had sworn my oath.
‘Lord,’ I said, lowering my voice as I drew closer. There were men all about us who might overhear, and I was sure Malet did not intend this for their ears. ‘We saw your letter. We know about Eadgyth, your friendship with Harold, and the business with his body.’
If anything I had expected Malet to turn to rage, but instead his face seemed to go pale. Perhaps like us he was simply weary after the siege and the battle; the fire had gone out of him and he had not the will to be angry.
‘You know?’ he asked. His gaze fell on each of us in turn. ‘I suppose it was always possible that you might find out. ?lfwold told you, I presume.’
‘Not willingly, lord, but yes,’ I said.