“I thought I heard you stirring. It’s about time you were up, you lazy toad.”
Stretching and yawning simultaneously, Thurkill pushed himself up on one elbow to take a better look at her. So fatigued had he been the previous night, that it had all been a blur. She was more beautiful than he’d remembered. Her eyes had lost nothing of their sparkle, set on either side of the most elegantly slim nose. Her cheeks were like two sun-ripened apples, rosy and firm. Awkward under his lustful gaze, she turned away and disappeared behind the blankets. “There’s some of that bread and apples to eat and a little of last night’s ale left as well.”
Sighing happily, Thurkill stretched his arms above his head, feeling the tension ease in his back and shoulders. He dressed quickly before pushing the screen aside so he could fold his arms around Hild’s waist from behind. Burying his face in her neck and inhaling deeply of her scent, he mumbled. “Where is everyone?”
“Eahlmund took them off to market to buy more food. Truth be told, I think he wanted to give us some time alone.” She blushed, as if fearing her words might be misconstrued. “To talk,” she added coyly, turning to look up at him through the curtain of golden curls that hung low over her forehead.
He felt the first inkling of a stirring in his groin. With an effort he forced himself to look away; she was right, they needed to talk. He had news that he had not had the will nor the energy to share last evening, but which he knew he could not put off for long. “Hild, there is much we need to discuss. But first, we have to think of the future. I need to know you will be safe.”
Her face fell. “And what of you, Thurkill? Who will think of your safety? Are we not to be together now that we have found each other once more? If not, who will take care of me now that I have no father?”
Thurkill’s voice caught in his throat; she looked so alone and so vulnerable. It was true; she had no one now that Nothelm was dead. No brothers or uncle to take her in. She knew no one else in the vast city. His heart ached for her, but he had no choice.
“I will do all that I can to care for you, Hild, even lay down my life for you should it come to it, but I have other duties that I must perform. Duties to the king in the defence of his lands.”
“Are there not others that could take your place? Can we not go north to start a new life with our own farm somewhere?”
“I promise you there is nothing I would like more, my love. But how long would it be before the Normans came and took it away from us once more if we don’t fight them now? We cannot fool ourselves into thinking they will go home and leave us in peace. They have come to take the kingdom and we must fight to stop them before it’s too late.”
“But you have already done your part and more. You stood by Harold and nearly died defending him. You told me so yourself.”
“And the thought of doing it all again scares me to death, especially now we are together again. But what sort of man would I be if I were to refuse to take my place in the shieldwall? I could not live with the disgrace of it.”
Hild turned away, her eyes brimming with tears. “In my heart, I knew you would say this. I only wish I could go with you. Didn’t the Vikings of old allow their women to fight?”
Thurkill grinned. “I have heard the same tales, though I know not if they are true; shield-maidens they were called, as fearsome as any man, I’ll wager. And having seen you fight back at Brightling, I would be proud to have you next to me in battle.”
Reaching out for her, he wrapped his arms around her once more, pulling her lithe but strong body tight against his own. “If we’re quick,” he whispered, “we could reacquaint ourselves properly before the lads return.”
“Thurkill!” She slapped his face in mock outrage. “Take your paws off me. All this talk of maidens holding swords has made you forget yourself.” But she had no mind to resist him too much and soon their mouths met in passionate embrace.
Just as Thurkill broke away to focus on the cord that held up his trews, there came a loud stomping noise from without, as several pairs of boots tramped their way up the rickety wooden stairs, making a far greater racket than was necessary. Then Eahlmund’s unmistakable voice shouted. “Careful with those jugs of ale, Copsig, I’ll send you all the way back to replace any that you spill.”
Ruefully, Thurkill smiled at Hild, shrugging as he did so. He kissed her one last time and stroked her soft hair against her cheek. “Another time, my love.”
Moments later, there was a loud knock on the door. “Are you, er, up, Lord?”
“For God’s sake, Eahlmund, stop this tomfoolery and come in.”
Eahlmund’s smirking face appeared round the edge of the now half-opened door. “Well, you can’t be too careful when two young lovers get back together after a time apart, that’s all I’m saying.”
Hild laughed. “We don’t all think with the contents of our trews, Eahlmund.”
“Well, you lordly types must be different than the rest of us then. All I’m saying is that if it had been me left alone with a pretty young lass, I’d have been…”
Thurkill cuffed him round the back of the head to change the subject. “So, what have you brought back from the market? I hope you have spent my money wisely.”
“A few loaves, some cheese, two dozen apples and a decent amount of salted pork. The former we’ll have to eat quickly but the rest should keep for a good while; enough to see us back here again anyway.”
Fool! With a shock Thurkill realised he still hadn’t told Hild that he must leave later that very day. Meekly, he glanced at her, hoping she had not been paying attention to what Eahlmund had been saying. But his luck was out. She stood, arms folded across her chest, her head tilted to one side with an expression that reminded him of his aunt Aga when he had failed to do his chores. Oh Lord, this is going to be difficult.
Realising his own part in the sudden change in the room’s atmosphere, Eahlmund sought for an escape. “Anyway, there’s much to do before we go and no doubt you two have things to talk about.” He began backing towards the door, shooing the others in the same direction using his hands hidden behind his back.
“Wait there, Eahlmund, if you please. And you others too. I’d be glad to know where you are all off to on this fine day and whether your lord is aware, for he has made no mention of it to me.”
“Well, er…” Eahlmund looked imploringly at Thurkill, as if begging him to rescue him. He cursed himself for having slept so late. If he’d risen with the rest of the lads, he might have had time to explain or, better still, gone to the market with them and avoided the whole situation.
“You see, the thing is - as I am sure Thurkill will have wanted to tell you before now - we have been ordered south of the river to find where the Normans have gone...”
“Well, he hasn’t and I am astonished that something as important as this has slipped his mind.” Though she was talking to Eahlmund, Hild’s eyes stared directly at Thurkill, challenging him to respond.
Thurkill shrugged, admitting defeat. “I’m sorry, my love. I was going to explain but I overslept and then the lads came back before I had time.”
Hild’s cheeks had reddened now, her voice trembling as she struggled to contain her emotions. “Why you? Are there no other men under the this king’s command who could not go in your stead?”
Thurkill looked at his feet. “I can’t refuse a direct order from the king, can I? He’d have me clapped in irons before you knew it and then where would you be?”
“And where will I be if you get yourself killed?” Her voice was rising, a mix of anger and fear. She turned to stare out of the room’s one small window, her shoulders heaving as she fought to regain her composure.
Shamefaced, Thurkill went to her, placing his hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. He pushed his face into the mass of curls until he found her ear which he then kissed gently, something he recalled she had liked when they had first lain together. “Don’t worry so, Hild. We’re not going to fight the N
ormans; we’re only going to watch what they’re doing and come straight back.”
Furiously, she rounded on him, pummelling his chest with her fists. “You stupid, thoughtless idiot. You can’t just kiss my ear and hope it makes everything better. Get out of my sight before you really annoy me. Go on, go. All of you!”
Eahlmund and the others did not need telling twice. They had been edging ever closer to the door as the situation became more and more uncomfortable and they were through it and gone almost before the first punch was thrown. Thurkill was not far behind, eager to be away from Hild’s fury and - at the same time - utterly confused by the whole thing. Killing Normans is so much easier than keeping a woman happy was all he could think as he clattered down the stairs as fast as his heavy boots would allow.
FIVE
“In Jesus Christ’s name, why doesn’t this God-forsaken country know when it’s beaten?”
In his anger, Duke William flung his still full goblet across the room where it slammed into the far wall, spraying wine over those unfortunate enough to be within range. Not one person flinched, though; no one dared lift a hand to wipe the dark red liquid from their faces or clothes, such was their fear of the Duke’s well-known tantrums.
A brooding silence hung in the air as William stalked back and forth behind the table from which the evening meal had long since been cleared away. He grabbed a new cup from the servant who had rushed forward to provide a replacement, draining it in one gulp.
News of the defeat at Suthweca had not long since been reported to him, turning his already foul mood into an incandescent rage. In the four weeks since his victory at Senlac, all he had to show for it was a few moderately-sized towns in the south east corner of the country. And they had only submitted to him to avoid annihilation. Had he not been promised the throne by his cousin, King Edward? Had Harold, while still Earl of Wessex, not sworn on relics most holy that he would support his claim?
And yet he had been forced to marshal a huge army, secure the support of the Pope, no less, and then risk life and limb to destroy the usurper king. So why now didn’t those Saxon lords who still lived prostrate themselves before him? Why didn’t they invite - indeed implore - him to take the throne? By rights, they should be begging him for mercy. Instead they had the gall to elect some boy, fresh from his mother’s teat no less, to be their king. And by what right was he now king? Because he had been chosen? What ridiculous laws and customs these hairy-arsed barbarians have. That will change, he promised himself.
“Would you, Lord?”
William spun round, angry that his thoughts had been interrupted. He had not expected or wanted an answer, and yet someone had the balls to offer one. Ah, Odo, his half-brother. A stout fellow who’d been with him at Senlac. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t be angry with the Bishop of Bayeux. He owed him his life, after all. When his men had believed him killed and were on the verge of breaking, it was Odo who had rallied them, sending them back up the hill to crush those Saxons foolish enough to have left the safety of their shieldwall. Without Odo’s leadership, the day might have gone very differently.
“I suppose you’re right, brother of mine. I had to fight tooth and nail to win Normandy when I was younger. That alone should have taught me that if you want something, you must fight for it. You must not give up until the last breath leaves your body.”
“Finely put, William. All that matters is that God and numbers are on our side. The Saxons will struggle to replenish the men they lost at Senlac. Not only did they lose their king, but many of their best warriors fell that day as well. Whereas ships join us from across the water almost every day, attracted by your great victory and the promise of more spoils to come. Have patience, brother; it is just a matter of time.”
“Time is what I don’t have, though. The longer this goes on the more emboldened this Edgar may become. Today’s events have shown they have men still ready to fight; we should not under-estimate their resolve.”
“How then should we proceed? That bridge is the only way across this damned river for miles around. There are boats to be had but not enough for our needs. It would take days to carry the army across and the Saxons would slaughter us as soon as each boat emptied its load.”
“We have no option but to go west, until we reach Warengeforte where there is a bridge and where we have friends. They tell me the water levels there are shallow enough for us to wade across as well if the fancy takes us.”
Odo frowned. “It may be our only option but it saddens me to move further away from Lundenburh and our goal.”
“I know, but the time will not be wasted. We shall not simply stroll as if we are taking the air. Rather, we shall wreak destruction in our wake, destroy farms, take livestock, kill any who resist - man, woman or child. We shall sow fear as we go so that the message reaches this Edgar that to stand against me is to invite ruin. He will either have to come out to fight me - in which case I will destroy him as I did the perfidious Harold - or submit to spare his people their suffering. And if I were to wager, I would say he will submit. Beardless boys have not the stomach for a fight in the same way us grizzled old whoresons do, eh?”
SIX
The six men clattered across the bridge about an hour or two before sundown, their horses creating such a racket on the wooden slats that it sounded as if a great army were on the move. Each man was hunched low in the saddle, wrapped about in thick cloaks, though they did little to keep the stinging rain at bay.
Thurkill could have done with the extra man, but Hild’s safety was paramount and so he had ordered Copsig once again to remain with her in the city. In the event of any trouble, they were to go north with all speed to Aelfric’s estate at Huntendune where the old warlord had promised to take her in for as long as was necessary. Knowing she had a haven to which she could run help salve the guilt he felt for leaving her, and he was grateful beyond words to the old bear for his kindness.
When he’d gone to tell her this news, he feared what she might say, that she might still be angry with him. But she’d welcomed him with open arms and a kiss that seemed to go on forever. Releasing him, she’d then forced him backwards until they tumbled onto the cot in a flailing mass of limbs, made all the more chaotic by their frantic efforts to rid themselves of their clothes. Thinking back to that moment, Thurkill grinned stupidly – uncaring as to how he must look to those around him. That memory would keep him warm until he saw her again.
Nevertheless, Hild remained an enigma to him. She occupied his every waking moment and more than a few of those when he slept too. One moment she was ice and the next, fire. It was hard for Thurkill - who dealt with life with a simplicity he found was common to most men he knew - to keep pace with what was going on in her mind. He had gone there ready to be scolded and yet she had been unable to keep her hands off him. He shook his head, ruefully; it was a mystery he doubted he would ever manage to solve, and he was not sure if he wanted to.
“You look like a dog that’s just been given the biggest bone ever. Do share it with the rest of us; we could do with a laugh to take our minds off this shitty weather.”
Eahlmund was right; the rain was, if anything, getting worse. It seemed to be coming at them sideways, blown by a stiff north-easterly breeze. Already his cloak was sodden and several times heavier than when dry. And, without any gloves to his name, the fingers of his right hand had turned a whitish-blue where they held the shaft of his spear. His left hand – holding the reins – was thankfully covered by the folds of his cloak. The only thing that could have been worse was that the worst of the weather was behind them, blowing against their backs. And far away to their rear, the horizon bore the faint glimmer of lighter skies, giving hope that the wind would eventually clear the clouds and rain away in front of them. Till then, however, it promised to be a miserable ride.
“Your pardon, Eahlmund. My mind was elsewhere.”
“I can imagine where it was too. And I bet the rest of you also wishes it were there with it.�
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The rest of the men joined in with the tired laughter, a short but welcome distraction from the rain. “So, where are we headed, Lord?”
“South then west. We’ll follow the line of the river as far as possible.”
“To what purpose, Lord? I’d much rather be tucked up by a fireside in the arms of someone warm and cuddly, so please tell me I’m out here freezing my balls off for a reason.”
“That you are, Leofric. Our king has sent out a number of scouting parties to find Duke William’s army so we can report on their movements. If we are to have any chance of defeating them, we have to know where they are, where they are heading, what they are doing and how many of them there are doing it.”
Leofric sniffed. “I suppose such a task is worthy of my time. But why us? What did we do to deserve such an honour?” The sarcasm was unmistakable, though not unkindly meant.
“I fear - and I should apologise to you all for this - that it is my doing and my doing alone. It was I who suggested to Edgar that the Normans could head west along the river until they came to a place where they might be able to cross. Several of my betters were annoyed that I should speak in their company and I think I have them to thank for this opportunity.”
“Sometimes I wonder what it is I see in you, Lord. You need to stop volunteering us for dangerous things like this. That way we may all live a bit longer.”
“Ah, but think of all the money you save by being out here with me, Eahlmund. No beer to buy, no games of chance to lose, no women of dubious repute to favour.”
Eahlmund looked up at Thurkill from where he was hunched miserably over his saddle. “That’s not helping.”
They stopped for the night just as the light was fading. As fate would have it, the rain finally abated at about the same time. By now, they were all soaked to the skin, hungry and thoroughly foul-tempered. The only thing that saved their mood was the fact that they had reached what looked to be an abandoned farm, next to which was a newly-built barn. Thurkill doubted whether the Normans could have come this way, else it would surely have been destroyed, if only as a demonstration of their power.
Saxon Storm: The Huscarl Chronicles Books 1 & 2 Page 29
