Sometime was good enough, as far as I was concerned. Sometime stretched a long way into the future: weeks or months or years, in which time I could easily meet a thousand other worse fates than Berengar’s sword. Besides, I doubted he would be so patient; more probably he would grow tired of me and find someone else to harass rather than wait that long.
Robert turned to Byrhtwald, who was nursing his shoulder where one of Berengar’s men had held him. He looked shaken but otherwise unharmed.
‘Who is this?’ Robert asked.
I gave him the Englishman’s name. ‘A friend of mine,’ I added. ‘He comes to Earnford every few months with his wares and his stories.’
‘And he pays well for them, too,’ Byrhtwald said, smiling. ‘You must be Tancred’s lord, son of the noble and illustrious Guillaume Malet.’
‘That’s right,’ Robert said. He didn’t offer his hand in greeting, perhaps trying to work out whether the Englishman was being sincere in his praise, or whether it was some kind of jest at his expense. Byrhtwald had an odd sense of humour that even I, despite having come to know him reasonably well, did not always understand.
‘Are you all right?’ I asked, changing the subject quickly. I did not want another confrontation.
‘I’m still in one piece, if that’s what you mean,’ the pedlar replied. ‘Nothing more than a few bruises, though that’ll be enough to get me a scolding from my wife when she sees them. It won’t be the first time, either. She always gets frightened for my sake when she hears I’ve been in a fight. Says I’m too old for them.’
‘And she’s probably right,’ I said. ‘Still, at least you’re taking her advice. You ran from that one quickly enough.’
‘It looked like you were doing well enough on your own. I didn’t want to get in the way and spoil your fun.’
‘If you want my advice, Englishman,’ Robert said, interrupting, ‘you’d be wise to leave this town as soon as you can – if you value your life, at any rate. Most traders left days ago from what I hear, and you won’t want to be here when the Welsh come.’
‘If you live even that long,’ I said. ‘If you remain in Scrobbesburh, Berengar will take it as a personal insult and he’ll do everything he can to see you in chains, especially after this.’
Robert frowned. ‘In chains? What has he done?’
I repeated what Berengar had told me of Fitz Osbern’s decree that all merchants still in the town were to be arrested forthwith on suspicion of acting as spies.
‘It’s the first I’ve heard of this,’ Robert muttered. ‘If it’s true then Fitz Osbern has taken leave of his senses altogether. After all, if it weren’t for the traders bringing news from their travels, we would know even less about the enemy and their movements than we do now.’ He turned again to Byrhtwald. ‘I’d worry less about the chains and more about Berengar’s sword-edge if he ever sees you again. Leave and get back to your wife and family. Otherwise, if he doesn’t kill you, the Welsh probably will.’
‘Have no fear on my account, lord,’ the Englishman replied with his usual roguish grin. ‘I’ll survive. I always have.’
I didn’t doubt that he would. In some ways he put me in mind of a rat, except twice as crafty and only half as dirty: quick enough to scurry away when he sensed danger approaching, happy enough to live off the scraps that others cast aside but careful, too, never to miss a chance to fill his stomach. Or his coin-purse, for that matter.
We made our way back to the marketplace, where a group of youths were taking advantage of Byrhtwald’s absence to search for things that they could easily steal. While one was busy stuffing his pockets with the ointment jars that lay on the ground, a tall, fair-haired girl in a tattered dress had climbed on top of the pedlar’s cart and begun passing down to her friends bundles of firewood, handfuls of candles and a brass lantern, among other things, all of which they were piling into a large sack. As soon as they saw Byrhtwald coming they fled, with the girl trying to drag the sack behind her, except they had filled it too high and it was too heavy. Before long she broke into a sprint, abandoning it as she ducked in and out amongst the animals and people, narrowly avoiding one of the other stallholders who tried to stop her. Soon I lost sight of her.
One of Robert’s men had fetched Nihtfeax; with thanks I took the reins. Byrhtwald had righted the bench that had been knocked over and was busy recovering those goods that had been purloined, loading them back on to his cart. I offered to help but he declined.
‘In that case, take care on the road,’ I said. ‘The enemy could be marching any day now.’
‘I will.’ He extended his hand, and I clasped it.
‘With any luck our paths will cross again soon.’ Though if the enemy succeeded in taking Scrobbesburh, my path might be very short indeed. Nonetheless, a small part of me sensed I would see the Englishman again before too long. He had a habit of appearing when I least expected him.
‘I’m sure of it, lord,’ Byrhtwald said.
‘Keep your wits about you,’ I said. ‘I wish you safe travels.’