Free Hereward by James Wilde

Wessex continued. ‘He is a clumsy oaf at the best of times, but that is a mistake that could have cost him an eye.’
    Edwin hesitated for a moment, and then sheathed his sword, stepping back. ‘You play a dangerous game.’
    ‘And the king wastes his final days building monuments to God, when he should be protecting this realm … and ensuring the throne is passed to an Englishman,’ Harold snapped.
    ‘To you?’ Edwin turned away to hide his sneer.
    ‘Or you.’ The Earl of Wessex stuck out his hand to help Redwald to his feet. ‘In Normandy, William the Bastard has already laid claim to our throne, and he plots, and he waits. And King Harald in Norway thinks he should have it too. So why do we two fight when we know our true enemies?’
    ‘Why?’ Edwin’s eyes blazed. ‘You know why.’ He shoved Morcar towards the door and the two Mercians walked out into the dark.
    ‘I am sorry,’ Redwald said. ‘I was a clumsy fool. I put you at risk.’
    ‘You are a bright lad, with great days ahead of you, but you still have much to learn. Heed me and you will gain all that you dream of.’ But the young man could see that the earl was distracted, and after a moment he realized that Harold was listening to approaching hoofbeats on the frozen mud of the road beyond the enclosure. Beckoning Redwald to walk with him, Harold strode out of the church. The bonfires cast an orange glow up the stone walls of the church, but the masons had packed up their tools and gone for the night.
    ‘It is within your power to make amends for the stain placed on your kin by Hereward’s actions,’ the earl continued. ‘You can set poor Asketil’s heart at rest. He deserves more than the blow his wayward son has dealt him.’
    ‘I want to serve England in any way I can.’ Afraid of the answer he might receive, the young man nevertheless summoned up his courage. ‘Does this mean you will take me into your employ?’
    ‘You have proved yourself.’
    Redwald’s heart leapt. Harold Godwinson’s patronage was all that he had dreamed of since Asketil had first introduced him to the earl. He felt he almost had his hands round the rope that would drag him out of the slough of his early days, and he would not let go whatever happened.
    ‘You have worked hard to gain my trust,’ the earl continued. ‘I like that. I remember when I was your age, and the dreams I had then. I learned from my father that life is a struggle, but the prize is always worth it.’
    In the gloom, Redwald noticed Harold’s huscarls waiting around the enclosure, battle-hardened Wessex men who carried their spears as if they were a part of them; clearly, the earl would not have risked confronting Edwin and Morcar in such an isolated place without his own protection assured.
    ‘There is much I can teach you, and much you can do for me.’ Harold fixed his attention on the torchlit gate where the sound of hooves had come to a halt. The sentries were calling to someone outside the palace. ‘You saw today the threat Edwin and Morcar present. Once Edward has died, they want the throne for themselves. They whisper and plot. Power is all that concerns them, not England.’
    ‘I will keep watch upon them, as you asked. And whatever I hear I will bring straight to your hall.’
    ‘Good. I fear the worst. If the prophecies and omens that fill Edward’s head are true, we all face dark times ahead.’ Holding up his hand, Harold brought Redwald to a halt. The gate hung open and five men in charcoal woollen cloaks were leading their horses into the enclosure. In the flickering light of the sentries’ torches, Redwald saw sallow, foreign features and darting, suspicious glances. But all the men walked with confidence, he noted, as if they felt they stood on their own territory.
    ‘Normans.’ Harold’s face darkened. Steadily, his huscarls gathered at his back. ‘They covet everything we have. Our land, our wealth, our laws, our art. We live and breathe fire here. We