more, but he could still feel her eyes upon him.
‘Think of this palace as the woods in winter. Wolves wait everywhere,’ he began. ‘But with a guide who knows the lie of the land, a safe path can be found through it. Stay close to me and you will survive.’
In the depths of the building, William loudly demanded more wine. There was a clatter. Something had been overturned. The visit of his two guests had disturbed him more than he had shown. Balthar immediately began to wonder how he could turn this to his advantage. Godrun hurried back to the door to answer the monarch’s call. She paused at the threshold, her smile tentative yet hopeful. He felt excited by the possibilities itheld, but it was not the time to examine them. In the hall, the king raged, all semblance of calm now gone. Balthar could not help but think that for all the terrible events they had endured in recent times, the worst still lay ahead.
C HAPTER E IGHT
THE WHITE DRAGON banner of the English rebels fluttered against a cerulean sky. As one, the long column of warriors raised their faces to the sun cresting the distant streak of woodland in the east. Their full-throated voices rang out in song of battles won and hearths awaiting. Above the windswept marshes, oystercatchers swooped, their cries joining the jubilant chorus.
Redwald looked along the narrow flint causeway towards the island rising from the wetlands ahead. The marshes reeked of rot and the gnats already danced in clouds, but he cared little. Life was good. Two summers gone he would never have believed he would taste such sweet hope again. His thoughts flew back to his flight from London after the invasion. The Normans had hunted him like a dog across the fields for his close ties to the old king. He spat. Harold had failed them all. How strong he had seemed as he waited for King Edward to die so he could seize the throne, with all his talk of power and what strong men would do to gain the prize their hearts desired. How easily Redwald had been seduced by those words. He felt a pang of self-loathing for his own weakness. He had tethered his days-to-come to Harold in the belief that he would be well rewarded and it had almost cost him his life.
‘You saved Hereward, I hear tell.’
Redwald looked back and saw it was the monk. Alric showed a pleasant face, but Redwald could still see the suspicion in his eyes. It had been there from the moment they first met, he did not know why. ‘Any man here would have done the same.’
‘True.’
‘Have you ever saved his life? I hear tell he spent all his days saving yours.’
‘My work is saving souls and leading them to God.’
‘How hard it must be, then, to find yourself grubbing around in the bloody business of mere men.’ Redwald caught himself. He smiled, showing his teeth. ‘Forgive me, my words are too sharp. My legs ache and my belly rumbles and it has turned me sour as vinegar.’
The monk peered past him towards the Isle of Ely where the minster tower on the top of the mound rose proud against the sky. ‘Hereward speaks warmly of you, and I trust his judgement in most things.’
Redwald heard the lack of commitment in the monk’s words, but he kept his smile fixed and said nothing.
‘You owe his kin much, I am told,’ Alric continued.
‘His father, Asketil, took me in when I was lost and alone after my mother and father had died.’
‘How did they die?’
‘That is a tale of woe for another day.’ Redwald bowed his head. ‘Asketil’s act of kindness saved me, and from that day Hereward became my brother. I would give up my own life for him, as any brother would.’
‘That is the right thing to say. Asketil is a hard man?’
‘Like a church floor.’ Redwald smiled tightly. ‘He is quick to anger, and his hands become fists faster than most, but he always treated me with fairness.’
The monk nodded as if this simple comment spoke volumes. ‘And yet now he sides with the new king. What would make him
‘Think of this palace as the woods in winter. Wolves wait everywhere,’ he began. ‘But with a guide who knows the lie of the land, a safe path can be found through it. Stay close to me and you will survive.’
In the depths of the building, William loudly demanded more wine. There was a clatter. Something had been overturned. The visit of his two guests had disturbed him more than he had shown. Balthar immediately began to wonder how he could turn this to his advantage. Godrun hurried back to the door to answer the monarch’s call. She paused at the threshold, her smile tentative yet hopeful. He felt excited by the possibilities itheld, but it was not the time to examine them. In the hall, the king raged, all semblance of calm now gone. Balthar could not help but think that for all the terrible events they had endured in recent times, the worst still lay ahead.
C HAPTER E IGHT
THE WHITE DRAGON banner of the English rebels fluttered against a cerulean sky. As one, the long column of warriors raised their faces to the sun cresting the distant streak of woodland in the east. Their full-throated voices rang out in song of battles won and hearths awaiting. Above the windswept marshes, oystercatchers swooped, their cries joining the jubilant chorus.
Redwald looked along the narrow flint causeway towards the island rising from the wetlands ahead. The marshes reeked of rot and the gnats already danced in clouds, but he cared little. Life was good. Two summers gone he would never have believed he would taste such sweet hope again. His thoughts flew back to his flight from London after the invasion. The Normans had hunted him like a dog across the fields for his close ties to the old king. He spat. Harold had failed them all. How strong he had seemed as he waited for King Edward to die so he could seize the throne, with all his talk of power and what strong men would do to gain the prize their hearts desired. How easily Redwald had been seduced by those words. He felt a pang of self-loathing for his own weakness. He had tethered his days-to-come to Harold in the belief that he would be well rewarded and it had almost cost him his life.
‘You saved Hereward, I hear tell.’
Redwald looked back and saw it was the monk. Alric showed a pleasant face, but Redwald could still see the suspicion in his eyes. It had been there from the moment they first met, he did not know why. ‘Any man here would have done the same.’
‘True.’
‘Have you ever saved his life? I hear tell he spent all his days saving yours.’
‘My work is saving souls and leading them to God.’
‘How hard it must be, then, to find yourself grubbing around in the bloody business of mere men.’ Redwald caught himself. He smiled, showing his teeth. ‘Forgive me, my words are too sharp. My legs ache and my belly rumbles and it has turned me sour as vinegar.’
The monk peered past him towards the Isle of Ely where the minster tower on the top of the mound rose proud against the sky. ‘Hereward speaks warmly of you, and I trust his judgement in most things.’
Redwald heard the lack of commitment in the monk’s words, but he kept his smile fixed and said nothing.
‘You owe his kin much, I am told,’ Alric continued.
‘His father, Asketil, took me in when I was lost and alone after my mother and father had died.’
‘How did they die?’
‘That is a tale of woe for another day.’ Redwald bowed his head. ‘Asketil’s act of kindness saved me, and from that day Hereward became my brother. I would give up my own life for him, as any brother would.’
‘That is the right thing to say. Asketil is a hard man?’
‘Like a church floor.’ Redwald smiled tightly. ‘He is quick to anger, and his hands become fists faster than most, but he always treated me with fairness.’
The monk nodded as if this simple comment spoke volumes. ‘And yet now he sides with the new king. What would make him
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