Down amongst the trees the world was already waking: the branches were alive with birdsong, heralding the new day. Up here it was silent. It was still too early for most people to have risen and not a single spire of smoke could yet be seen. Nothing moved, not even the wind. In every direction the country lay deathly still.
I dismounted and dug into my saddlebag, where I found a carrot to feed my mount. After hobbling her to prevent her wandering, I approached the standing stone, which towered above me, nine or ten feet tall, like a column supporting some invisible roof. It had been erected here by the ancient folk, it was said: the ones who had lived in these parts before even the Romans, the first conquerors of this island, had arrived. Perhaps it was meant as a boundary marker, or perhaps this had been a place of gathering, where they had come to feast and dance, to perform strange ceremonies in the manner of the old religion. Father Erchembald said this place was the Devil’s work and disapproved of my coming here, where the servants of evil supposedly dwelt and where by night the spectres of the dead fed upon the souls of unwitting travellers they had waylaid. But in all the times I’d come here I’d never sensed any malevolence. Instead what I felt that morning was a stillness of a kind I had not known in some time, and wonder too at the men who had toiled to bear such a massive thing all the way up this hillside.
I ran my hand over the stone’s surface. Cold to the touch, it had been worn smooth by the elements over so many years. And yet as I explored it further, my fingers found small pits and other blemishes, and as I moved around it I saw that down one side ran a deep cleft, like a wound, and out of that wound green lichen was growing like pus, feeding off the rigid corpse. Not even stone could survive unbroken for ever. Some day this would fall, as the halls and the cities of the Romans had already done; just as our castles with their towers and ditches and walls would too, and the great vaults of the minster churches that we were building across this land.
Everything came to an end eventually; there was no greater truth than that. After a year and more, my time in Earnford was likewise drawing to a close. Today I would have to leave this place I had grown to know so well, and I didn’t know when I might be back.
A shiver ran through me, but this was not the time to feel sorry for myself. Drawing my cloak closer around my shoulders, I returned to my mount to unhitch the two saddlebags I had brought: the reason for my coming up here. Inside was silver and gold: some of which had come from the raiding-party we had pursued only a month before; the rest from other expeditions, from the grain and fish and fleeces that were sometimes sold at market or to passing travellers and traders. In all it amounted to a few pounds: not a large hoard, but too much to take with me. If the Welsh did come while we were gone I couldn’t let it fall into their hands. And so I had no option other than to bury it.
Around the standing stone was a ring of smaller boulders, each of them a different shape and none taller than my knee, though they were all as firmly rooted in the ground as the central pillar. All, that was, except for one. Smaller and flatter than the rest, it was almost hidden in the long grass. I searched around its base for the crevice I knew was there, where I could slide my hand under the rock. It took all my strength, but I managed to prise it free of the soft ground, using one edge as a pivot and rolling it to one side, revealing the hollow beneath. At the bottom lay a leather pouch filled with coins that I had placed there some months before, together with a pair of gilded brooches for fastening one’s cloak, and three silver arm-rings inscribed with pagan symbols that no one could decipher, not even the priest, who was able to read the letters of many languages. In addition to that treasure there were also three seaxes, long-bladed English knives that I had taken in another battle, as well as another sword that I had no use for. Finely wrought, it had served me well on campaigns previous, but now I had better-balanced, quicker blades, both of which I was taking with me.
Into that hollow I lowered the two bags, though not before stuffing a handful of the coins into my purse. I had kept some back already, but it was always better to have a little too much silver than not enough; besides, one never knew when it might prove useful. Then I hauled the boulder back over the space so that it was left exactly as I had found it, or as near as I could manage, so that the hoard was completely hidden from sight.
Already the skies were growing lighter; day was fast approaching and I could not linger here. Earnford would soon be waking, and Robert and his men would be ready to ride. I returned to the mare, untied the hobble from around her legs and vaulted up into the saddle.
‘Come on,’ I murmured to her as I kicked on. ‘Time to go.’