Still I couldn’t shake the feeling that Lyfing’s death was my fault. An image rose unbidden to my mind of his limp, crimson-stained body, and of his woman looking up at me with those helpless eyes. He was no warrior, just a mill-hand, but nevertheless he hadn’t hesitated to take up arms, to follow me into battle, to risk his neck for me, for his kin, for his woman. He hadn’t needed to fight, but he had chosen to do so out of loyalty and love, and because of that he had lost everything.
More than a decade had passed since I set out on the sword-path, since I had first given my oath, and in those years I had seen countless comrades fall. Many I could no longer recall by face or by name, but many more had been close friends of mine, and I would have been lying if I said that their deaths had not affected me. Lyfing, on the other hand, I had hardly known at all, even though he was one of my people, one of those I was sworn to defend. Perhaps that was why I was taking his loss hard, for it meant that I had failed in my duty, not just to him but to his family as well, to Hild and to the whole of Earnford.
‘It isn’t good for you to spend so much time alone, lord.’
The voice came from behind, startling me, and I turned to find Father Erchembald. A Norman, he was a stout man, short of stature, with a youthful face that belied his years and his wisdom. After the events of last year and the business with the chaplain ?lfwold, I had grown more wary around men of the cloth, but I could not help but like this man, who always seemed in good humour.
‘I’m not alone now,’ I replied. The flagon by my side was almost empty but I offered it to him anyway.
He waved it away as he sat down, cross-legged, on the grass beside me. I shrugged and drank down the few drops that were left, while he watched me with a look that was somewhere between concern and disapproval.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘You should be down there, with them,’ he said. ‘With Leofrun.’
I didn’t know what to say to that, and after a few moments of silence had passed between us, he sighed and tried again: ‘It is because of you that Earnford rejoices rather than mourns tonight.’
Down by the fire some of the village girls approached Turold and Pons and Serlo, taking them each by the hand and pulling them into the circle as a new song began. French and English making merry together: I hadn’t thought I would live to see it happen. Even now, somewhere in the north, the rebels could be gathering their forces, preparing to march. But when I watched the village men drinking and singing and dancing in the last light, I found it hard to imagine any of them taking up arms under Eadgar’s banner. All they wanted was to tend their animals and plough their fields, to sow their crops and feed their families. They cared nothing for the kingdom. What did it matter to them whether a foreigner wore the crown, or one of their own race? As long as they were governed by a lord who would protect them from the Welsh who came with fire and sword across the hills, they had everything they needed.
Except that this time I had not protected them, and four men had died needlessly.
‘It is because of me that a boy was killed yesterday.’ I could not meet the priest’s eyes but instead stared down at the ground. ‘I ought to have stopped him. Instead all I could think about was my own glory.’
‘We must all make our own choices,’ Father Erchembald said, ‘and young Lyfing chose to fight. He knew the risks, and I’m sure you did all that you could for him. You cannot blame yourself for his death.’
I gazed at the blazing fire, remembering the way the flames had swept through the town, through the fastness and the mead-hall that winter’s night at Dunholm. For a long time I had blamed myself for what had happened there too, before swearing instead to kill the man who was responsible. Lyfing’s killer already lay dead, and so in that sense the blood-price was paid, though I was no happier for it.
‘Those women wouldn’t be here were it not for you,’ the priest said, gesturing at the figures dancing down by the river. ‘You did a good thing, Tancred, and you must not forget that. They are indebted to you. Let them show you their thanks.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘It is for the best,’ said Erchembald. ‘It seems to me that a man can spend so much time in his own head that he forgets the world around him. The things which are truly important.’
‘What do you mean, father?’
‘I know that you still seek vengeance. You long to be with your old comrades, to ride into battle once more, to hunt down the man who murdered your former lord.’
He knew me too well by now for me to deny it, and so I said nothing.
‘I cannot blame you for wanting these things,’ he went on, ‘but your place is here, and you shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that in Earnford you have men who are loyal to you, folk who respect you. A woman who loves you, and soon a child as well.’
That last surprised me. Erchembald had never been especially fond of Leofrun, perhaps because she was with child but we were unwed, something that the Church frowned upon, although it was not such an uncommon arrangement.