‘It’s nothing,’ I said again, more quietly this time. I sat down again on the stool beside the fire, tore off a corner of the bread and dipped it into the broth heating in one of the iron pots. ‘I just need to eat, and then to rest. We have another few days’ travel ahead of us.’
I took a bite of the bread. The broth it was soaked in tasted of heavily salted fish, and while it was not especially pleasant, neither was it distasteful. It was warm and that was all I cared about, though perhaps the heat of my anger had done something to dispel the chill, for I found that I had stopped shivering. I ladled some more into a wooden bowl which Osric had brought, and lifted it to my lips, sipping it slowly.
‘We should send word straightaway to the town-reeve,’ said Wigod. ‘We could bring a plea before the hundred court.’
‘On what grounds?’ the chaplain replied. ‘There was no injury, short of a mark to the cheek.’
‘Disturbing the king’s peace,’ Wace offered. ‘Isn’t that reason enough?’
‘It would do no good,’ said ?lfwold. ‘Without at least a name to attach blame to, there can be no case.’
The steward sighed. ‘You’re right. And the court here in Lundene isn’t due to sit for another two weeks.’
‘By which time we’ll have gone north with the king’s army,’ I said, defeated. I was no closer to knowing who any of those men were, and indeed it seemed had no way of finding out.
‘I’ll go to the reeve in the morning,’ Wigod said, obviously sensing my frustration. ‘For whatever that might be worth.’
The hall began to empty not long after that, and one by one the other knights fell back asleep, until once more I was the only one left awake. I sat by the fire for a while longer, drawing out the last of the cold, for it had worked itself deep into my bones. The two servants had brought in more wood from the store outside and I added it to the hearth, keeping the flames roaring until my skin had dried completely. Eventually I let the fire be and I lay on my back upon the rushes, gazing at the whorls and splinters in the timber planks that made up the ceiling. My body ached and my limbs clamoured for rest, but my mind was still awake as I fingered the cross at my neck. I saw the fight clearly in my mind: every stroke of my blade, every parry, every thrust. It was then that I remembered I had left my sword behind. I was not going to fetch it then, however; that could wait until the day.
I had thought when we arrived in Lundene that in some small way I would be returning home. Now, though, I wanted nothing more than to be away from here.
Not far off, bells began to chime, marking the beginning of the matins service at one of the monasteries nearby. It could not have been much longer until I did manage to sleep, for in my dreams they were chiming also, and I was there with the monks in their cold stone church, and I was twelve years old again.
We’d hoped to set off for Wiltune at first light, but the snow fell heavily that night, so heavily that in the morning it came halfway to my knee: a blanket across the whole city and the countryside beyond, making it impossible to travel.
I walked on my own, crunching my way down W?clinga str?t, retaking my steps from the night before. I had left the others at the house, including ?lfwold, who protested when he caught me slipping out unannounced. It was too cold to be out, he said; far better that I stayed inside, where the fire was warm and I could take the time to recover. But save for the scrape I had taken during the fight I was feeling fine, and in any case I was in no mind to listen to the chaplain. I needed the time to think.
What men of the church employed knights to serve as their personal guards? The one I’d thought looked like ?lfwold was English: that much had been clear from his appearance. As for the priest in the black robes, I could not be sure, although if he was from Normandy then it was more likely that he was the one who had hired them, for few Frenchmen I knew would choose to serve an English lord.
Then again, these were no doubt men who made their living through selling their swords, without thought or scruple. Many such had at one time been oath-breakers, little better than murderers, since by severing those ties – the only things that bound people together – they had defied the natural order. Such men never questioned whom they served or for what purpose, so long as they were rewarded well – and that made them dangerous.
I stopped by the little wooden bridge that crossed the brook. Ice had formed around some of the larger rocks and the ducks were huddled together by its edge. Some had their heads tucked under their wings; others dipped the tips of their beaks into the fast-flowing water, as if testing it. None dared swim.