‘Times have changed,’ ?lfwold added. ‘King Eadward is dead and Harold too. The men of the south understand this; they hold no desire to see Eadgar ?theling as king in place of Guillaume.’
‘You can’t be sure of that,’ I said. The chaplain had been close to Malet for many years, and I could well believe that for him – as perhaps for Wigod, too – the ties of lordship took precedence over any allegiance he might owe his countrymen. I myself knew how powerful such ties could be, having served Lord Robert through a dozen campaigns. But I was sure that most Englishmen wouldn’t share their sentiments. For although over time they had learnt to live with us, I could not bring myself to believe that they would not rather have one of their own race as king. These were, after all, the same people who little more than two years ago had stood in their thousands against King Guillaume; who had fought under the banner of the usurper at H?stinges.
‘In their eyes Eadgar is a foreigner,’ ?lfwold said. ‘He was born and raised in lands far from here; only indirectly is he of the old royal stock. They have no love for him – no more, at any rate, than they do for King Guillaume.’
‘The hearts of the people are fickle, though,’ Eudo put in. ‘If Eadgar holds Eoferwic and the king’s army fails to drive him out, they may start to think differently.’
I sipped at the mead in my cup, but it tasted sickly and I swallowed it fast. ‘How many men does the king have with him in Lundene?’ I asked the steward.
‘Around three hundred knights, and perhaps as many as five hundred foot,’ he replied. ‘More of course will join them as they travel north.’
‘Remember it’s winter,’ Wace said. ‘The king might call on his barons but at this time of year they’re unlikely to be ready to fight. It’ll take time for them all to gather.’
He looked towards me. I was reminded of our conversation back on the Wyvern, and wondered again how long Malet would be able to hold out in the castle. And how long could the king afford to delay, if he was going to arrive in time to relieve him?
‘He’ll need every man he can gather if he’s to retake Eoferwic,’ Eudo said. ‘We’re needed there more than we are here.’
My sword-arm itched as I thought of the Northumbrian host waiting for us in Eoferwic: of Eadgar ?theling, who had murdered Oswynn, murdered our lord. But at the same time I knew that my oath would not be discharged until I had seen ?lfwold safely to Wiltune with his message, whatever it was.
‘We have our duty to Malet,’ I said.
‘Indeed we do,’ the chaplain said, as he glanced at each of the other knights in turn. ‘Lest you all forget.’
‘But he couldn’t have known when we left that he’d soon have another thousand men at his gates,’ Eudo said. ‘He couldn’t have known the danger.’
I looked at Wigod. ‘How long will it take us to ride to Wiltune from here?’
‘Wiltune?’ he asked. ‘Why do you want to go there?’
‘It’s not important why,’ ?lfwold said. ‘All that matters is that we get there safely.’
Wigod looked first at him, then at me, plainly puzzled. ‘At a steady pace, I should think no more than three days.’
‘So if we left tomorrow, we could be back here in Lundene within the week,’ I said.
‘It is possible, yes,’ said the steward. ‘It will probably take that long for the king to ready his forces. And even if they had gone by the time you returned, you would still catch them on the road north.’
‘In that case we leave tomorrow morning,’ ?lfwold said.
I lifted my mead-cup and drained what was left; the liquid rolled off my tongue, sliding down my throat, and I tried not to grimace at the taste for fear of offending the steward.
I placed the empty vessel down upon the table. ‘To Wiltune, then.’
Nineteen
IT WAS LONG past dark and the house lay cold and silent. The fire in the hearth had dwindled since earlier but nonetheless remained smouldering, the undersides of the logs still glimmering a faint orange. Every so often a finger of flame would rise up and lick over them, and I would feel a flicker of comfort as the warmth played across my face. Out in the street a dog began yapping, only to be silenced by a man’s shouts. Otherwise all was still.