‘What do we do now?’ asked Father Erchembald that evening as we stood around the campfire, where I had gathered together the leading men of that small band for counsel.
Among them were the priest, ?dda, Odgar and the others from Earnford, the monk Wigheard and a handful of those we had met on our wanderings: those who looked as if they knew one end of a spear from another. A more feeble and bedraggled group I had seldom seen; they were hardly the kind of men likely to strike fear into the hearts of our enemies. But they were all I had, and so I would have to make do.
‘If the Danes and the ?theling have joined forces then they will overrun the north of the kingdom before long,’ said Galfrid, a slow-witted Fleming, fond of hearing his own voice, who had been steward of one of the ruined manors we had come across. ‘King Guillaume will not be able to fight them off and Eadric and the Welsh as well; not before winter comes at any rate. We would do better to turn south and find safety in Wessex.’
‘If Execestre and Brycgstowe fall to the rebels in the south, not even Wessex will be safe,’ ?dda said with a snort. ‘Wherever we go, it will make no difference. The whole country is rising.’
‘Then what would you have us do, Englishman? Would you rather we waited until those of your countrymen who have fallen in with the Welsh finally catch up with us?’
?dda advanced upon Galfrid. ‘What are you suggesting?’
The other man was undeterred, even though he stood a head shorter than the stableman. ‘Were it not for the treachery of your kind, none of this would have happened. We would not be roaming the kingdom aimlessly as we are now; instead we’d be keeping warm beside our hearth-fires in our own homes, with food in our bellies and ale-cups in our hands!’
His gaze rested for a moment upon the two seaxes belted to ?dda’s waist, one being that which I had given him. The stableman looked every bit the warrior, and perhaps that was what aroused Galfrid’s suspicions. Like many of those who had come over since the invasion, he was probably accustomed only to seeing the English as a lesser grade of men, not as equals and certainly not as friends or allies.
‘Lord, this man has no place here,’ he said, turning to me. ‘How do we know he isn’t going betray us?’
‘He won’t,’ I told Galfrid. ‘?dda is as loyal a man as I have ever known. Besides, he is right. We cannot guarantee that we will find safety in Wessex.’
‘Where do we go, then?’ asked Father Erchembald.
I buried my head in my hands as I tried to think. Having brought all these people here to discuss our plans, I still did not know what to suggest. Since hearing the news from Wigheard, a dark mood had overcome me. Truly it was as Fitz Osbern had said all those weeks ago. Everything was falling into ruin, and the more we tried to prevent it, the quicker it seemed to happen.
‘Tancred?’
I blinked and looked up. The priest was still waiting for an answer.
‘How many men do we have of fighting age?’ I said to no one in particular.
‘No more than a score,’ ?dda replied. ‘But they have no weapons or shields—’
‘Then we will find them some.’
‘From where?’ Galfrid challenged me. ‘And anyway, do you think they will want to fight, after everything they have seen?’
‘If they wish to take vengeance and see justice delivered upon the men who did this, yes.’ If they felt anything like I did, they would be only too eager for blood.
I glanced around the circle, at R?dwulf and D?gric and Odgar, at men from other manors and other hundreds whose names I did not know: Frenchmen and Englishmen alike. None of them made a sound, which I took for a sign that they were in agreement. Either that, or else there was no one willing to speak against me.
?dda nodded solemnly as he gazed into the writhing, twisting flames. I wondered what was running through his mind: whether he could feel any relish at all in the prospect of the fighting to come, or whether it was something he would merely endure. Despite what had happened in his past I hoped he might find some enthusiasm within himself, could summon the battle-fury when it mattered. Often in the fray that was all that kept one going, all that kept one from succumbing to the fear that was always threatening to invade one’s mind. For once that had taken hold it did not let go, and when that happened a moment was all it took for a foeman to take advantage. Death came quickly when a man’s wits deserted him.
I tried to shut such thoughts from my head. I couldn’t afford to lose any more good friends that way. Yet neither could I promise that any or all of them would make it through. In my heart lurked a certain guilt that I would be leading these men, some of them scarcely more than boys, to their graves, as I had led so many before them. But what other choice was there?