Death of Kings_ A Novel - Bernard Cornwell [12]
‘That’s what’s worrying me,’ I said.
The rain was coming harder, gusting on a sharp wind. The day was closing in, dark and damp and cold. Remnants of snow lay white in frozen ditches. Beortsig tried to insist that we turn back, but I kept riding north, deliberately going close to two large halls. Whoever guarded those places must have seen us, yet no one rode out to challenge us. Over forty armed men, carrying shields and spears and swords, were riding through their country and they did not bother to discover who we were or what we did? That told me that the halls were lightly guarded. Whoever saw us pass was content to let us go in the hope that we would ignore them.
And then, ahead of us, was the scar on the land. I checked my horse at its edge. The scar ran across our path, gouged into the water meadows on the southern bank of the river, which was being dimpled by raindrops. I turned my horse then, pretending no interest in the trampled ground and deep hoof-prints. ‘We’ll go back,’ I told Beortsig.
The scar had been made by horses. Finan, as he rode into the cold rain, edged his stallion close to mine. ‘Eighty men,’ he said.
I nodded. I trusted his judgement. Two crews of men had ridden from west to east and the hooves of their horses had trampled that scar into the waterlogged ground. Two crews were following the river to where? I slowed my horse, letting Beortsig catch us. ‘Where did you say Sigurd was celebrating Yule?’ I asked.
‘Cytringan,’ he said.
‘And where’s Cytringan?’
He pointed north. ‘A good day’s journey, probably two. He keeps a feasting hall there.’
Cytringan lay to the north, but the hoof-prints had been going east.
Someone was lying.
Two
I had not realised quite how important the proposed treaty was to Alfred until I returned to Buccingahamm and found sixteen monks eating my food and drinking my ale. The youngest of them were still unshaven striplings, while the oldest, their leader, was a corpulent man of about my own age. He was called Brother John, and was so fat that he had trouble offering me a bow. ‘He is from Frankia,’ Willibald said proudly.
‘What’s he doing here?’
‘He is the king’s songmaster! He leads the choir.’
‘A choir?’ I asked.
‘We sing,’ Brother John said in a voice that seemed to rumble from somewhere inside his capacious belly. He waved a peremptory hand at his monks and shouted at them, ‘the Soli Deo Gloria. Stand up! Breathe deep! Upon my word! A one! A two!’ They began chanting. ‘Mouths open!’ Brother John bellowed at them, ‘Mouths wide! Mouths wide as little birdies! From the stomach! Let me hear you!’
‘Enough!’ I shouted before they had finished their first line. I tossed my sheathed sword to Oswi, my servant, then went to warm myself by the hall’s central hearth. ‘Why,’ I asked Willibald, ‘must I feed singing monks?’
‘It’s important we make an impressive display,’ he answered, casting a dubious eye on my mud-spattered mail. ‘We represent Wessex, lord, and we must demonstrate the glory of Alfred’s court.’
Alfred had sent banners with the monks. One showed the dragon of Wessex, while others were embroidered with saints or holy images. ‘We’re taking those rags as well?’ I asked.
‘Of course,’ Willibald said.
‘I can take a banner showing Thor, perhaps? Or Woden?’
Willibald sighed. ‘Please lord, no.’
‘Why can’t we have a banner showing one of the women saints?’ I asked.
‘I’m sure we can,’ Willibald said, pleased at the suggestion, ‘if that’s what you’d like.’
‘One of those women who were stripped naked before they were killed,’ I added, and Father Willibald sighed again.
Sigunn brought me a horn of mulled ale and I gave her a kiss. ‘All well here?’ I asked her.
She looked at the monks and shrugged. I could see Willibald was curious about her, especially when I put an arm around her and drew her close. ‘She’s my woman,’ I explained.
‘But,’ he began and finished abruptly. He was thinking about Æthelflaed, but did not have the courage to name her.
I smiled at him. ‘You have a question, father?’
‘No, no,’ he said hurriedly.
I looked at the largest banner,