‘How many men do they have?’
‘In and around Beferlic, close to one thousand English and Danes,’ he said. ‘Those are the best warriors, the jarls and the hearth-troops. Another five thousand are waiting by their ships in the marshes by the Humbre.’
‘Six thousand in all?’ We could not hope to fight that many, not unless it was in open country where the might of our conrois could be brought to bear, and even then it would not be easy.
‘Yes, lord. And there is more.’
‘More?’
‘News that will interest you, though it may not please you to hear it.’
I was not in the mood for riddles. ‘Go on.’
‘Only if you swear to spare my life.’
Another time I might have laughed at his gall, but at that moment I was too intrigued by what he thought he might be able to offer me.
‘I swear it,’ I said. ‘Now tell me.’
He hesitated for a moment as if unsure whether my promise was truly meant, but then he must have seen that if it wasn’t then he was a dead man either way.
‘When Eoferwic fell there were hostages taken,’ he said.
‘I know that. What of them?’
‘There were five: the only ones who were allowed to survive the battle. Two of them are with the main part of the fleet by the Humbre.’
He gave me the names of the castellan Gilbert de Gand, a man with whom I’d had more than my share of quarrels over the years, as well as his mistress Richildis. Then he paused.
‘What about the other three?’
‘They were taken to Beferlic.’
With every moment I was growing more impatient. ‘Their names,’ I said. ‘Tell me their names.’
Something was troubling Runstan, as if he did not want to tell me what was next on his mind, but knew that he had to for his own sake. I saw the lump in his throat as he swallowed, and guessed what he was about to say.
‘The other three’, he said, ‘are your lord Robert Malet, his sister Beatrice and their father Guillaume, the vicomte of the shire of Eoferwic.’
Twenty-seven
They were alive. In the hands of the enemy and the man I’d sworn to kill, but alive nonetheless.
For a few moments I didn’t know what to say, but simply stood rooted to the ground, open-mouthed as thoughts whirled through my head and the faintest glimmer of hope stirred within me, until I heard Wace speaking my name, asking what the Englishman was saying. Somehow I managed to recover my voice enough to tell him.
‘We have to take him back with us,’ he said afterwards, meaning Runstan. ‘We need to deliver him to the king and his advisers.’
‘What for?’ I asked, glancing at the wide-eyed Englishman, who understood none of what we were saying. Perhaps he guessed that we were discussing his fate, or perhaps not, though he seemed a clever enough lad.
‘So he can tell them what he knows,’ Wace replied, looking at me as if I were slow-witted. ‘So we can raise the ransom for the release of Lord Robert.’
‘It won’t make any difference. Don’t you see? The king won’t pay the Danes a single penny to leave these shores. He doesn’t want to bargain; he won’t even send envoys to parley with them.’ My ire was rising and I was aware that I was ranting yet could not stop myself. ‘All he wants is to trample their corpses into the earth and let his fuller run with their blood. If he won’t so much as talk to the enemy, do you think he’ll willingly offer up silver for the lives of Gilbert de Gand and his mistress, or for Lord Robert and his kin?’
Wace did not answer. He knew that I was right. Robert’s fool of a father, Guillaume, had failed the king on two occasions in as many years. For all his shrewd governance of Eoferwic, as vicomte the defence of the city and of the shire rested largely upon him. By allowing them to fall into the enemy’s hands not once but twice he had demonstrated his ineptitude. There would be no ransom for him, and were that the case it seemed unlikely that the freedom of Robert or Beatrice would be purchased either. It was well known that in the king’s eyes the Malet name was tarnished, perhaps irrevocably so. What if he decided it was easier to be rid of them altogether? For if the Danes’ price was not met, there would be no advantage in holding them prisoner, and their lives would then be forfeit.
I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t risk the lives of my lord and his family by doing nothing and simply hoping that the king would see sense. I owed my lordship, my reputation and, some would say, my life to the Malets. I had sworn solemn oaths not just to Robert but to his sister too, many months ago.
Beatrice. Despite all our differences I had loved her once, or thought I had. Having already lost Oswynn and Leofrun I was determined not to lose her too.
‘What do you suggest we do?’ asked Wace, his tone one of resignation.
And I told him.
‘This is madness,’ said Eudo when we arrived back and Wace told him what I planned. ‘Have you lost your mind?’
‘I’ve made my decision,’ I replied. ‘And I’ll do it with or without your help.’
Eudo made a sound halfway between a laugh and a snort. ‘And with what army do you propose to do this?’
‘With as many as will join me.’
It wasn’t much of answer, and we both knew it. Still, I’d had enough time to consider it on the journey back to camp, and knew there was no other choice. Whether it was through silver or some other means, I would find the men. I had to.
‘This is the worst folly I have ever heard spew from your mouth in all the years I’ve known you,’ Wace said, scratching at his injured eye as he often did when frustrated. He had ever been the most sober and level-headed of the three of us, and I didn’t expect to win him over to my cause now. ‘Talk some sense into him, Eudo.’
‘If we believe what he says’ — Eudo gestured at Runstan, who was sitting in silence with?dda watching over him — ‘Eadgar and Sweyn have between them more than ten hundred warriors in and around Beferlic. They have fyrdmen and huscarls, spearmen and axemen and swordsmen, all of whom will have no hesitation in killing you the moment they find you. And find you they will.’
‘Listen to us,’ Wace said. He did not often lose his temper, but even in the dim, flickering light of the campfire I could see his face reddening. ‘We both want to see Robert alive as much as you do. But you cannot simply march into the heart of the enemy stronghold and expect to walk out again freely. You would give your life for no reason and at the same time lead every one of your men to their deaths.’
I gritted my teeth and turned away. My gaze fell upon the others in our small party, and particularly upon the lads Ceawlin, D?gric and Odgar. Laughing amongst themselves, they were taking it in turns to hurl small stones at the exposed head of a pot-bellied baron who was sitting, oblivious, by one of the other fires some forty or so paces away. Fortunately their aim was poor and each one of their stones disappeared into the night, missing by some distance, or else I might have done something. The last thing I wanted was to begin another quarrel and make yet more enemies: I had enough of those as it was.
‘You can’t ask them to go with you,’ Wace said, mistaking my thoughts. ‘They’re not much more than pups, barely weaned from their mothers’ teats. They will follow you because you are their lord, and because they don’t know any better.’
‘They trust you,’ Eudo added, ‘but that same trust will be the end of them if you take advantage of it in this way.’
‘I know that,’ I said, rounding on them. ‘Don’t think that I don’t.’
?dda would come with me, and Pons and Serlo, and I would do my best to convince Galfrid too. Apart from those four, who else was there? Five men was no army in anyone’s estimation, and I still wasn’t sure how such a raid could possibly work, only that it must. Of course we would take Runstan with us, so he could show us the paths through the woods and the marshes, but I still did not trust him, and had no doubt he would try to betray us to his countrymen at the first opportunity unless we kept a close watch over him.