Knights of the Hawk c-3

by James Aitcheson

  ‘No,’ I answered firmly. ‘He doesn’t need me, or my sword. Not any more. He’s made that clear enough. He will do his own thing, and I’ll do mine. Maybe in time these wounds will heal and we’ll be able to see eye to eye once more, but until that happens, no.’

  I would not humble myself before him. I would not beg forgiveness. What respect I’d had for him, recent events had steadily ground down. Until he earned it again, I would not bend my knee nor offer my oath to him anew. I couldn’t. Not without losing all respect for myself.

  I would not go back. I only hoped that Eudo and Wace understood, and did not think any less of me for that decision.

  ‘If not England, then where?’ asked Eudo after a while. ‘Back to Normandy, or to Brittany?’

  I shook my head. ‘First of all I’m going to take Eithne home, to reunite her with her kin, providing they still live. I promised her that much, and it’s time for me to make good on that promise.’

  Since Haakon and his men had no further use for them, I had claimed the largest of his four longships. It turned out that one of the slaves we had freed from Jarnborg, a lank-haired, bone-thin countryman of Eithne’s by the name of Domnall, had been steersman to a wealthy merchant from Haltland before he was captured by pirates and thrown in chains. He, together with a good number of the other former thralls, had agreed to join us, partly because they had nowhere else to go, and partly because I think they sensed with Magnus and Aubert and myself opportunities to seek out their fortunes anew.

  ‘And after you’ve taken her home?’ Wace asked. ‘What then?’

  I could only shrug in answer. In truth I was in no mood to think about such things, although of course I would have to decide before long. A man cannot spend his life forever dwelling on the past, wondering about what might have come to pass that didn’t, and wishing things were different. Sooner or later he must turn his mind to what lies ahead.

  Wyvern’s crew, directed by Aubert, were loading supplies for the voyage back to England. The island folk had bestowed food and fleeces and other gifts upon us, which at the time I’d taken for tokens of their gratitude for ridding them of the Danes. Later, though, I’d wondered whether in fact they meant it as tribute, fearing that if they did not placate us, we would soon turn our attentions to their steadings and their homes, and raid them just as we had raided Haakon’s hall. However those offerings were meant, we’d accepted them with gratitude, adding them to what we had managed to recover of the jarl’s treasure hoard. For rather than immediately killing those who had surrendered to us, we had given them the chance first to show us where their lord had buried the chests containing all the silver and the gold that he had reaped on his expeditions. Only after they’d done so did we condemn them to the ends they deserved. Afterwards we shared the booty out as fairly as we could, so that both crews were rewarded and every man in our party, whether English or French, received a portion. Once divided out between so many coin-purses, it looked like a paltry amount for a warlord of Haakon’s repute to have amassed, and I suspected he had other hoards that his men hadn’t known about or else, if they had, simply hadn’t told us of, both here on this island and elsewhere. Nonetheless, it was hard-earned recompense for the men who had toiled so tirelessly in our cause with oar and sail, spear and sword, risking everything. But naturally there were many whom we could not reward: those who had lost their lives to Danish steel, far from any port they could call home. All we could do was honour them, as we had honoured Oswynn, and give Aubert money that he could pass on to their families.

  ‘Robert won’t be best pleased when he learns you took his ship without his permission,’ I said to Wace and Eudo. Nor that Wyvern would be returning with fifteen fewer men than it had set out with, and a number of the rest still recovering from various small wounds taken in the battle.

  ‘It’ll be some weeks before we arrive back at Heia,’ Eudo said. ‘We still have to visit Robert’s barons in Normandy and bring them the tidings of his father’s death, assuming that they haven’t yet heard. The Christmas feast might have already passed by the time we see home again. Between now and then, we’ll have plenty of time to think how we’re going to explain it all.’

  ‘He can have our share of the plunder, if that’ll help soothe his temper,’ Wace added. ‘There’s always more silver to be made. Besides, we didn’t come here for riches, but for something greater than that, and we found it. That’s all that matters.’

  As usual he spoke good sense. Still, I didn’t envy them facing Robert, for he would surely hear the tale of their exploits before long. Even if they were able to swear Wyvern’s crew to silence, someone was bound to let slip at some point. What Robert would do then, I could only guess. The two of them had taken a great risk on my behalf, and I lacked the words to thank them as they deserved. Better, more loyal friends than they I’d never known.

  ‘Wherever you end up going, take care,’ Eudo said as we embraced, to which Wace, when it was his turn, added:

  ‘God be with you, Tancred.’

  ‘And with you,’ I said solemnly. ‘Both of you.’

  As sword-brothers, we three had grown up together in our lord’s household, had fought alongside one another on occasions without number, and it was a strange feeling to part company without knowing exactly when I would next see them. That fate would bring us together again, and that our paths would cross sometime, I had no doubt. When that happened, I would make sure to repay the debt I owed them. But even so it seemed a turning point not just in my life, but in all of our lives.

  Thus it was with heavy heart that, later that day, I took one of Haakon’s horses and rode to the cliff-top at the island’s southernmost point. There, with the wind gusting in my face, I watched Wyvern as she put out to sea. Her long, narrow hull rode the swell as her oarsmen bent their backs to the waves, her proud dragon-prow cutting through the blue-grey waters. Not once did I take my eyes off her, but kept waving in the hope that Eudo and Wace would see me, and it seemed that they did, for after a while I spotted two figures waving back. Smaller and smaller and smaller the ship grew, until she was no more than a faint speck on the horizon and then not even that. The wide sea beyond the fjord glittered beneath the afternoon sunshine, and amidst all those shards of sunlight I soon lost sight of her.

  I was alone.

  Even long after she had vanished from sight, I remained there. While my mare wandered, I stood by the cliff-edge and stared down the length of the fjord towards the sea, searching for I knew not what, listening to the waves crash and froth against the rocks below, feeling hollow inside.

  How long I spent standing there, lost in my thoughts, with the cold winter wind tugging at my cloak, I don’t know. By the time I heard the hoofbeats approaching from behind, cloud had come across the sky, veiling the sun, and a soft drizzle was beginning to fall.

  ‘Lord!’

  I glanced over my shoulder. It was Godric.

  ‘We were starting to get worried,’ he said as he checked his horse, dismounted and came to me by the cliff’s edge. ‘No one knew where to find you.’

  ‘Well, you’ve found me now.’

  The words came out more sourly than I meant them, although if Godric noticed, he didn’t seem to take any offence. Sighing, I gazed out across the waters once more, doing my best to ignore the Englishman, hoping that if I paid him no attention he would simply leave me be.

  ‘Are you all right, lord?’ he asked, clearly sensing the disquiet raging within me.

  ‘I’m thinking,’ I replied.

  ‘About what?’

  I hesitated, unsure whether to trust with my innermost thoughts someone who only a few weeks ago had been a stranger to me. ‘About whether I’ll see Earnford, or so much as set foot on English shores, ever again.’

  Godric did not answer straightaway, and I wondered if his mind was on the estate at Corbei that his uncle had granted him, which the king had seized along with the lands and properties of all Morcar’s followers.

  ‘Y
ou will, lord,’ he said after a short while. ‘I know it. We all will, someday.’

  He smiled gently, but the firmness of his tone told me that he was not simply trying to lift my spirits, but that he truly believed it. I wished I had his confidence. Still, perhaps he was right. Perhaps in time I would find myself feasting in my own hall once more, with my friends around me, music filling the air and ale and wine flowing, and all would be well with the world.

  I smiled in return as I tousled Godric’s hair. He tried to squirm away, protesting, and I chuckled. He had done more in my service than I could ever have expected of him. Of course he had much to learn still, but he was eager and showed promise both as a swordsman and as a rider. In years to come he would make a good warrior, I thought. And I would be proud not just to teach him but also to count him as a friend.

  For the truth was that I was not alone, nor would I ever be. Not as long as I had men like Godric, like Serlo and like Pons. They had followed me to the ends of Britain, and I had no doubt that they would follow me still, to the farthest parts of Christendom and even beyond.

  The sun broke through a crack between the clouds, and I felt its slight warmth penetrate the chill that, until then, had held me in its grip: a chill that had first descended as I’d held Oswynn, dying, in my arms, and which had not left me since. And as that warmth touched my skin, so something stirred within me. To call it a thrill did not seem right, for my heart was still too full of grief to allow that. Still, as I looked out over the wide, shining waters, it struck me that beyond them existed a whole world I hadn’t yet seen. A world beyond England, beyond Normandy and France. Lands I’d seen in my dreams, of which I had heard tales, but which I had never glimpsed with my own eyes. And, for the first time in my life, I had both the means and the opportunity to see that world.

  ‘Come on,’ I said to Godric as I turned away from the cliff’s edge and marched towards my horse, which was grazing contentedly close by. ‘It’s time we left this place.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ he called after me.

  ‘Wherever the winds take us!” I shouted above the gusts as I mounted up and coaxed the mare into a canter back in the direction of our camp.

  For I had a ship. I had silver. I had men who were loyal to me. What else did I need?

  If experience had taught me one thing, it was that the sword-path is never a straight road, but rather ever-changing, encompassing many twists and turns. All a man can do is follow it and see where it leads. I had followed mine, and this was where it had taken me. But my journey was not over yet. Whatever fate awaited me, I was still to find it.

  The sword-path beckoned, and so, for good or for ill, I would keep on following it. Wherever the promise of glory and riches took me, that was where I would go. To live. To fight. To strive. To forge a reputation that would live on long after I had departed this earth.

  That was who I was, and who I would continue to be.

  I, Tancred.

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