abandon his own blood for our enemy?’
Redwald shrugged. ‘I do not claim to know Asketil’s mind.’He swatted away a fly, eyeing the other man askance. ‘Hereward looks on you warmly, Alric, and if for that reason alone, I hope we can be friends.’
‘If God is willing. Hereward is a fearsome leader. His anger is great, his vengeance greater. Any man would tremble who faced him. And yet locked inside is a good man.’ The monk searched for words, his gaze growing faraway. ‘A man who trusts, perhaps, too much when he has decided someone is a friend. It would sound mad that such a fierce man would need to be shielded, were it not true.’
‘Then give thanks that he has such as us to watch over him.’ He looked away into the hazy distance. ‘I have not been a good man, Alric. I have turned my face away from God.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I sought power, though it cost others hard. I lied, and I stole. I have killed in anger. But the Lord punished me for my crimes and I saw in my darkest days how much I had failed everyone. I would make amends now. I would be a better man. Hereward says he has learned much from your guidance. Will you aid me too?’
The monk’s eyes narrowed as he peered deep into the other man’s face. ‘If a man is honest in his desire to come to God, then I would do all I could to help him.’
‘Then I need hear no more.’
Redwald looked towards Ely again, his heart leaping at the end of the long journey. Now he could see the smoke rising from the hearths and hear the cries of the gulls scavenging on the midden heaps. The sky had grown a misty yellow in the early morning light and the settlement appeared to be wreathed in a heavenly glow. The palisade stood firm around the jumble of dwellings clustered tight against the minster and its enclosure.
‘We have found a good home, have we not?’ This time it was Hengist who had spoken. He walked a pace behind the monk. Sweat had streaked the ash on his face and turned his straggly blond hair into rat’s tails. Redwald always felt unsettled by the warrior’s pale, staring eyes. He thought he saw a hint of madness there.
‘Aye, it is good.’
‘More than that,’ Hengist chirruped. ‘It is a testament to Hereward’s cleverness.’ He swept an arm across the desolate marsh with its scattered islands rising out of the bogs and water. ‘See? Here is a fortress unto itself. Even if the bastard king’s men could fight their way through the forest that shields the fens, they would never be able to march upon Ely. They could try a boat at high water, if they want to risk drowning in the strong currents.’ He grinned. ‘Or they could walk across the causeway where we could pick them off one by one by one.’ He clapped his hands and did a little dance.
‘A safe haven,’ Redwald replied with a nod. That warmed him. He had not felt safe his entire life, but here, perhaps, he might finally find peace. He let his eyes drift over the isle, caught between sky and water. Ely stood to the east overlooking the lethal bog of Grunty Fen which almost split the land into two smaller islands. Could he ever consider it home after the grandeur he had known at King Harold’s court?
‘Even if the bastard Normans make it to the isle, we are not done for,’ Hengist continued, talking to himself now. ‘Should an enemy survive the causeway, they would still have to skirt the bog by Haedanham and cross the waters at Wiceford before they could even draw near to Ely.’ He smiled. ‘Let the Normans build their castles. Here God has provided his own.’ After a moment’s reflection, Hengist pulled a bone whistle out of his breeches and began to play. Redwald drifted with the tune. Hengist was a rough man, yes, and as mad as a March hare, but the music he played was sweet.
Once they had left the grey flint of the causeway for the isle’s sward, the warriors cheered and shook their spears in the air. The air smelled fresher, scented with the hint of
Redwald shrugged. ‘I do not claim to know Asketil’s mind.’He swatted away a fly, eyeing the other man askance. ‘Hereward looks on you warmly, Alric, and if for that reason alone, I hope we can be friends.’
‘If God is willing. Hereward is a fearsome leader. His anger is great, his vengeance greater. Any man would tremble who faced him. And yet locked inside is a good man.’ The monk searched for words, his gaze growing faraway. ‘A man who trusts, perhaps, too much when he has decided someone is a friend. It would sound mad that such a fierce man would need to be shielded, were it not true.’
‘Then give thanks that he has such as us to watch over him.’ He looked away into the hazy distance. ‘I have not been a good man, Alric. I have turned my face away from God.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I sought power, though it cost others hard. I lied, and I stole. I have killed in anger. But the Lord punished me for my crimes and I saw in my darkest days how much I had failed everyone. I would make amends now. I would be a better man. Hereward says he has learned much from your guidance. Will you aid me too?’
The monk’s eyes narrowed as he peered deep into the other man’s face. ‘If a man is honest in his desire to come to God, then I would do all I could to help him.’
‘Then I need hear no more.’
Redwald looked towards Ely again, his heart leaping at the end of the long journey. Now he could see the smoke rising from the hearths and hear the cries of the gulls scavenging on the midden heaps. The sky had grown a misty yellow in the early morning light and the settlement appeared to be wreathed in a heavenly glow. The palisade stood firm around the jumble of dwellings clustered tight against the minster and its enclosure.
‘We have found a good home, have we not?’ This time it was Hengist who had spoken. He walked a pace behind the monk. Sweat had streaked the ash on his face and turned his straggly blond hair into rat’s tails. Redwald always felt unsettled by the warrior’s pale, staring eyes. He thought he saw a hint of madness there.
‘Aye, it is good.’
‘More than that,’ Hengist chirruped. ‘It is a testament to Hereward’s cleverness.’ He swept an arm across the desolate marsh with its scattered islands rising out of the bogs and water. ‘See? Here is a fortress unto itself. Even if the bastard king’s men could fight their way through the forest that shields the fens, they would never be able to march upon Ely. They could try a boat at high water, if they want to risk drowning in the strong currents.’ He grinned. ‘Or they could walk across the causeway where we could pick them off one by one by one.’ He clapped his hands and did a little dance.
‘A safe haven,’ Redwald replied with a nod. That warmed him. He had not felt safe his entire life, but here, perhaps, he might finally find peace. He let his eyes drift over the isle, caught between sky and water. Ely stood to the east overlooking the lethal bog of Grunty Fen which almost split the land into two smaller islands. Could he ever consider it home after the grandeur he had known at King Harold’s court?
‘Even if the bastard Normans make it to the isle, we are not done for,’ Hengist continued, talking to himself now. ‘Should an enemy survive the causeway, they would still have to skirt the bog by Haedanham and cross the waters at Wiceford before they could even draw near to Ely.’ He smiled. ‘Let the Normans build their castles. Here God has provided his own.’ After a moment’s reflection, Hengist pulled a bone whistle out of his breeches and began to play. Redwald drifted with the tune. Hengist was a rough man, yes, and as mad as a March hare, but the music he played was sweet.
Once they had left the grey flint of the causeway for the isle’s sward, the warriors cheered and shook their spears in the air. The air smelled fresher, scented with the hint of
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