Sworn Sword (Conquest #1)

‘I want to be in Eoferwic,’ he said. ‘I want to be killing the men who killed Lord Robert. Instead we’re here, wandering the whole damned kingdom after this priest, and I’m tired of it.’


I remained quiet for a moment as I thought of Eadgar, remembered the promise I had made to him outside Eoferwic’s walls. The promise that I would kill him. The fingers on my sword-hand itched even as I thought of it. And so I knew how Eudo felt. But I knew, too, that until we had fulfilled our service to the vicomte, vengeance would have to wait.

‘It’s our duty to Malet,’ I said.

‘No.’ He jabbed a finger at my face. ‘It’s your duty, Tancred. Wace and I never swore any oath to him. He’s promised to pay us and so we’re here, but we owe him nothing.’

I waited in case there was more to come, but there was not. The night was quiet; the rain had eased and was now little more than a steady drizzle.

‘Leave, then,’ I said. ‘Take your horse and ride back to Eoferwic, or wherever you want to go. Take Wace with you. If it’s silver that you’re after, there’ll be plenty of lords willing to pay.’

He took a pace back. ‘No one’s leaving,’ he replied. ‘Maybe you think you don’t need our help at the moment, but you will. Just try to trust us from now on.’

He shouldered his way past, back towards the common room, and this time I didn’t attempt to stop or follow him. Probably he needed a while to gather himself, I decided. At the same time I didn’t want to see his face again so soon. I was angry with him, yes, but there was something else as well: something in what he’d said that had struck me, though I could not place it exactly.

I waited until he had gone back inside and then turned in the opposite direction, towards the stables. Within, my horse was gorging itself on a sack of grain which had been left hanging on the inside of the door, and which was now less than half full. I looked about for the stable-boy, but he was not to be seen. Cursing his carelessness, I lifted the sack down. If the horse overate then he was likely to develop colic, in which case I could well find myself having to find another mount come the morning, for this one would be dead.

I placed the sack on the ground outside the stall and rubbed his muzzle before bolting the door again and checking on the others, making sure that the stable-hand had not left any more feedbags out, but he had not. I would mention it to the innkeeper, and if the boy got a beating as a result, it was no less than he deserved.

I crossed the yard back towards the common room, which was even more full than it had been when I had left. Every one of the men who lived in this village must have come here, I thought, all of them reeking of wine and ale, sweat and dirt.

Eudo was sitting with the rest of the party by the fire. As I approached, the innkeeper’s wife was bringing them another two large pitchers of wine, each one full to the brim, to join the three which were already there. She set them down; Radulf held up a silver penny towards her, but as she held out her hand to receive it, he tossed it to the floor, where it fell amidst the rushes. A roar of laughter went up from Godefroi and Philippe, who began banging their fists on the table. The woman blushed deep red as she got on her knees to retrieve the coin.

?lfwold rose suddenly. ‘You heartless … nithingas!’ he shouted at the knights. They looked back in confusion. I did not know what the word meant, but I had never before heard the chaplain speak so vehemently.

I rushed over and knelt down beside the woman. She tried to wave me away, speaking in English as she scrabbled around on the floor, and I saw her blink away a tear. In my mind I saw my mother weeping in much the same way.

‘Let me help,’ I said, but she did not seem to understand me, for she simply spoke more loudly as she began to sob. I spotted the penny resting next to the leg of the table, and picked it up to offer to her. She shook her head as water began to trickle down her cheeks, and got quickly to her feet.

‘Hw?t gelimpth?’ a voice shouted from across the room. It was the innkeeper.

I stood and turned to the five knights. ‘Have you forgotten yourselves?’ I demanded, snatching up one of the wine-jugs and tipping its contents on to the floor, staining the rushes red.

‘What are you doing?’ Radulf asked, rising.

‘We paid for that!’ said Philippe.

‘You’ve had enough,’ I said, grabbing the next pitcher in line and doing the same. ‘All of you.’

‘Tancred—’ Radulf began.

I thumped the empty vessel down upon the table so hard that it shook, and glared back at him, then turned to ?lfwold. ‘I’m sorry, father,’ I said.