Free Knights of the Hawk by James Aitcheson Page B

we’ll have no choice but to surrender it to the rebels.’

Four
    ‘SURRENDER ELYG TO the rebels?’ Robert asked, his voice thick with scorn. ‘No. The king will never do that.’
    ‘It isn’t a question of whether he wishes to do so or not, lord – merely whether he has the men and the supplies to keep fighting this war. You know as well as I do that no army can stay in the field for ever.’
    ‘If we yield the Isle, what’s to stop more Englishmen allying themselves to the rebels? Or, for that matter, the Danes? If they return, we could find ourselves fighting last year’s battles all over again.’
    The Danes, led by their king Sweyn, had finally left these shores at the beginning of this sailing season, their ships laden with chests brimming with the silver and gold that King Guillaume had paid them as an inducement to return to their own lands across the German Sea. But such peace was fragile. The moment they smelt another opportunity to win wealth and renown here in England, they would be back. Of that few had any doubt.
    ‘That’s why we cannot suffer yet another reverse,’ I said. ‘Tell me one thing, lord: do you really agree with the king’s judgement in this?’
    Robert said nothing, and I supposed he was right to hesitate. It was one thing for petty lords such as myself and the others to speak ill of the king’s strategy, but for him to do so was far more dangerous. It didn’t matter that he spoke in private company; walls were thin and there were few places within the camp where a loose tongue was not easily overheard. If ever word got back to the royal household then it might be said that Robert was fomenting treasonous thoughts amongst his followers. King Guillaume was not the kind of man one did well to cross, and the events of the last two years had only served to harden him and make him more stubborn. From the many tales I had heard, he did not take kindly to being contradicted. Among his chief barons there were perhaps a handful whose counsel and criticism he accepted, and the Malets were not among them. Not any longer, at least.
    ‘What about your own oath?’ Robert asked.
    I frowned. ‘I don’t understand, lord.’
    ‘If this latest assault fails, will you keep your oath to me, or might you be among the deserters you spoke of?’
    Only then did I understand the real reason why he had hesitated. My words had betrayed my own frustrations.
    ‘If this assault happens, then I have to wonder whether any of us will even live by the end of it,’ I answered. It was evading his question, but it was the truth.
    Robert, however, was not fooled. ‘You know that’s not what I asked.’
    ‘Lord,’ I said, ‘I am bound to your service. I pledged my allegiance upon holy relics, in the sight of God.’
    He sighed. ‘I realise that I have not fulfilled my duties as lord as well I might. Would that things were different, that I had the means to reward you and your friends for all that you have done for me and my family, and I fervently hope that such means will come back into my possession soon. As things are, I barely have the money to repair my own halls and keep my retainers fed and equipped. I only hope you understand, and that you see I need good men now more than ever. I need your sword, Tancred, and your patience.’
    I had been patient for nine months already without receiving so much as one silver penny, I wanted to say, but managed to resist the temptation. He was desperate; I could see it in his eyes. Everything around him was unravelling, while all he wished for was respect, both from the king and from his own followers. As long as I had known him he had been a good lord as well as a good friend, always fair in what he asked of me. A man of sound judgement, and honest too, which was more than could be said of many in these troubled times.
    ‘I will not desert, lord,’ I said. ‘You have my oath, and you may hold me to it, or my life is forfeit.’
    He nodded, satisfied, as if