The Harrowing

She asks, ‘What did you say?’


‘I told him flatly that I didn’t believe we could. At once Gospatric roared that I was a coward, that we were all cowards. He cursed me in front of everyone for turning my back on him. I couldn’t even look at him because I knew he was right. As for everyone else, they saw one of the last and staunchest of the earl’s allies abandoning him. That’s how Eadgar saw it. After that, there was nothing more to say. The meeting was over, and that was it. The rest you know.’

‘But all you did was what you were asked to do. You spoke your mind.’

‘I gave in to fear. At the one time when it really mattered, I backed down from a fight.’

‘The rebellion didn’t fail because of you,’ Tova says, trying to reassure him. ‘The pyre was already built. The wood was dry. One spark was all it needed, from the sound of it. It could have gone up at any time. You said as much yourself.’

‘I know,’ he growls. ‘That’s not why I’m telling you this.’

‘Why, then?’

He closes his eyes as he wrings his hands. ‘Because I don’t want you to think that any of those things that Oslac said about me were true. And because I want you to understand. Why afterwards I swore to carry on the war, even though it was hopeless. Why I became so determined to kill Malger, for all the good that it did. Why, when I heard about Hagustaldesham, I knew I needed to be there. It wasn’t about seeking revenge on the Normans for what they’d done, or rather that was only a part of it. I’ve never taken any pleasure, any thrill from killing. I happen to be good at it, but I’ve never enjoyed it. So that wasn’t the reason. Those months I spent raiding and burning after the rebellion’s collapse, I didn’t do it out of hatred. I did it to make amends for my cravenness, the only way I knew how.’

‘You wanted to atone. Like Guthred.’

‘Like the priest, yes. I suppose we had more in common than I cared to admit. Not that any of it matters now. If Oslac was right then it’s too late. If even Gospatric has given in to King Wilelm, then all is lost. England belongs to the foreigners. I’ve done everything I can, but it isn’t enough.’

Tova gets to her feet. ‘No,’ she says, suddenly angry. ‘You’re wrong. Remember what you told Oslac last night? As long as there’s someone left who’s willing to carry on the fight, it isn’t over.’

He shakes his head. ‘I’m not sure if—’

‘Don’t you dare say it,’ she says, cutting him off, using the same tone that Merewyn sometimes uses when speaking to her. ‘Don’t tell me you’re not sure if you believe that any more. You do. Of course you do. You’re Beorn.’

He stares at her. She wonders when the last time was that anyone dared speak to him like this. Too long, obviously. But she can’t just sit here and watch while he sinks ever deeper into despair. She has to do something. It’s up to her. There’s no one else.

‘Listen to me,’ she says, just as he has said to them so many times these past few days. ‘This is what we’re going to do. They want to kill us, don’t they? They want to ravage this land and everything in it. So we don’t let them. We survive, and then we come back and rebuild everything they’ve destroyed. We live our lives. That’s how we carry on the fight. That’s how we win.’

He shouldn’t need her to tell him these things. Hasn’t he been the one always urging them on through everything? Single-minded. Determined. He’s supposed to be telling her this, not the other way round. He can’t give up hope. He, of everyone, should know better.

He looks up at her, those wolf eyes more like cub eyes. He could be a child being scolded by his mother.

She says, ‘If we give in, if we tell ourselves they’ve won and that’s the end and there’s no point any more, then we become like Oslac. Is that what you want? He told himself he was doing a good thing when really he just didn’t want to admit he was taking the easy path.’

‘I’ve been fighting for too long,’ Beorn says. ‘I can’t keep on doing it.’

Not so long ago she thought like he did. But not any longer. She’s come too far and seen too much. She’s not going to lie down and wait for death to take her. And she’s not going to let him either.

‘Don’t just sit there,’ she says. ‘Get up.’

He looks sharply at her. ‘Why?’

‘Because I need you to teach me some more.’

*

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