Free Hereward 03 - End of Days by James Wilde

through the throng with Edoma at his heels until he reached the market. It was no less quiet there.Merchants bellowed to gain the attention of any who neared their stalls. Some turned their offer of wares to song, competing in hoarse voices with the sellers nearby. A knife for two pennies, a fox skin for eight, a fledged sparrowhawk for twenty-four. A gang of boys fought with wooden swords, crying out as they clattered knuckles.
    Redwald dipped into the leather purse at his waist and pressed a coin into Edoma’s hand. ‘Buy what you will,’ he shouted. ‘A ribbon for your hair, a new comb, some silk. Come to me later, after the king’s men have passed through. And then, perhaps, you may buy silver or gold to wear on your breast.’
    Edoma’s eyes gleamed. She gave a seductive smile as she folded her fingers around the coin and slipped away. Feeling his heart swell with excitement, Redwald kicked his way through a brood of chickens pecking in the dirt around a stall, and made his way to where the swine rooted in their swill. He clambered on to a low stone wall and found a spot where he could look out over all Lincylene, to the gleaming ribbon of river with the merchants’ ships moored at the quay, and across the green land beyond. His nose wrinkled at the fruity smell of dung, but it would keep him from being disturbed. He let his gaze fall upon the great south road, far below, and waited.
    But not for too long. With his heart racing, he watched ten horsemen wend their way along the road and pass through the gate. When they had made their way up the hill to the market, he was there to greet them, with Frankish wine and salt pork and bread. He paid a boy to take the horses to water, while the Normans stretched their tired limbs and wiped the dirt of the road from their faces. He knew William de Warenne and Taillebois would be waiting in the castle ward, puzzled at the slow arrival of their guests for the feast that had been planned. He would deal with the repercussions of his actions later. As he moved among the black-cloaked men, constantly filling their cups from the skin he carried, he found the king’s adviser, a long-faced man called Bardolph. Redwald sowed his seeds well, and in only a little time he had left the Norman commander inno doubt that he was a much valued counsellor to the sheriff and that he held vital information about the English rebels which would be of great use to the king.
    Once the men set off for the castle, Redwald all but ran into the heart of the market to tell Edoma that Bardolph had insisted … insisted … that he be taken to the monarch to tell all he knew. But though he searched among the stalls, he could not find her anywhere. Prettying herself with her new ribbon, he thought with annoyance. He asked around the merchants until he found a man who pointed him towards the smith’s workshop on the edge of the market. Edoma had sent a message that she had gone in to warm herself, for the wind had grown cold.
    Unable to contain his excitement Redwald thrust his way through the market crowd. He could have found the half-timbered workshop by his nose. The acrid stink of the forge seemed to seep out of the very wood. He marvelled how the smith worked in the fug with the large door closed. Wrenching it open a little, he slipped through the gap.
    Inside, the gloom was made darker still by the orange glare from the coals. He covered his mouth and nose and flapped his hand to whisk away the choking smoke. The heat in the smithy was near-unbearable and sweat prickled along his brow. Edoma was mad if she thought this was a pleasant place to warm herself. The forge hissed, but there was no thunder of hammers or sizzle of hot iron plunged into water. The smith was nowhere to be seen.
    Then the smoke shifted and he glimpsed Edoma waiting on the far side of the workshop. Coughing, he stumbled towards her.
    Pain flared in his head as something heavy crashed against the base of his skull. He pitched