The stable-hands were nowhere to be found, and so I tethered the mare to a wooden post just outside the chapel, where there was a trough for her to drink from and a small patch of grass to graze upon. I gave her a pat on the neck, and went inside.
Malet was already there, no longer wearing his mail, but instead a simple brown tunic and braies. He was kneeling in front of the altar, upon which stood a single candle. Its flickering light played across a silver cross, in the centre of which was a gemstone the colour of blood. There was little other decoration: no scenes from the Passion painted upon the walls, nor any tapestries depicting Christ with his apostles, such as I might have expected; even the altar-cloth was a plain white in colour.
I pulled the door closed and made my way across the stone floor, my footsteps loud in the empty darkness. Malet rose as I approached the altar. His scabbard swung from the sword-belt at his waist, which I was sure ?lfwold would have disapproved of, but then the priest was not here.
‘Tancred,’ the vicomte said. His face lay in the shadow of the candlelight, making his long nose and angular chin seem even more prominent. ‘It is good to see you again.’
‘And you, my lord.’
‘Events are moving quickly. Today was not the first time that the townsmen have risen against us.’
I recalled what Eudo had said only a few days before: about the fight that had broken out down by the wharves. ‘No, lord.’
‘They realise that our forces are weakened after the castellan’s death. They await the arrival of their kinsmen.’
‘Yet the rebels still haven’t marched on the city,’ I said. Exactly why, no one I had spoken to had been able to understand – not even ?lfwold, who of all men was closest to the vicomte and so, I thought, best placed to hear such information.
‘They will, though,’ Malet said, and his gaze fell upon the cross that stood on the altar. ‘They will, and when they do, I do not know how Eoferwic can be defended.’
His frankness took me aback. Even though I had known him but a short while, I had not thought the vicomte the kind of man who would admit such a thing so readily, even in confidence.
‘There is the castle,’ I said. ‘Even if the city falls, we would still hold that, surely?’
‘Against a large enough army, even that may be difficult,’ Malet said, and still he did not meet my eyes. ‘I will be honest with you, Tancred. In all the time that has passed since the invasion, never have we faced a worse state of affairs than this.’
It was not warm in the chapel, but it felt suddenly much colder. For if Malet himself doubted whether he could hold Eoferwic, then what hope was there? From outside came the faint shouts of men, the whinnying of horses, the trundling of carts across the bailey.
‘We will prevail, lord,’ I said, although even as I said it I found that I was far from certain.
‘Perhaps,’ he said. ‘But it is important that you understand the circumstances under which I have asked you to undertake this task for me.’
‘You assume that I’ll accept.’ At last we were coming to the matter that he had called me here for.
He smiled, and I sensed that he was enjoying this exchange. He clasped his hands before him. His silver rings glinted in the light of the candle, and his countenance became serious once again. ‘I believe that you will do what you perceive to be right,’ he said. ‘Should you decline, I will simply seek repayment some other way.’
I took a deep breath, felt my heart pounding in my chest. This was my last chance to consider before I had to make my decision. But already I knew what I was going to say.
‘I will do this for you, lord.’
Malet nodded. He had known that I would not refuse. ‘And your comrades?’ he asked. ‘Are they willing to accompany you?’
‘They will join me.’
‘Good,’ he said. ‘You know, then, what I must ask of you.’
I did. I knelt down on the stone paving before the altar. A twinge ran through my leg where it had been wounded, but I tried not to show it. Malet stood before me. He lifted the silver cross with its blood-red stone. As he did so, the flame of the candle wavered, and I thought it might go out, but then it straightened. Was it an omen, I wondered, and if so, what did it mean?
‘In taking this oath,’ Malet said, ‘you swear that you are and will be subject to no lord but me. You bind yourself to my service, to the protection of myself and my kin, to do as I bid you. I, for my part, will invest you with everything you need to fulfil this task, and upon your return I promise to absolve you of all further obligation to me.’ He held out the cross, and his eyes bored into me. ‘Do you swear to become my man?’