Conquest

Hereward looked at Rodrigo and saw much in him that he recognized. The Castilian was not as tall, and had olive skin and hair the colour of chestnuts, but he was powerfully built and his hands were gnarled and calloused from many blows and long hours of weapons training. He wore a long ruby-coloured smock, fastened with a broad leather belt, and across his shoulders was draped a magnificent bearskin cloak fastened by a finely tooled bronze clasp. His leggings were winter riding breeches, and he had boots of the finest leather. Rodrigo’s armour, which adorned a mannequin behind the high table, was comprised of a small circular shield like those of the Saracens, a straight thrusting sword, a style preferred by northern Europeans, and a small axe with a crescent-shaped blade. He also had a long lance for use in jousts and cavalry charges, and a smaller javelin, a weapon to be hurled at the enemy in an infantry encounter. His weapons were in beautiful condition, but it was obvious they had been used frequently; his mail coat, though finely worked, bore the cuts and gouges of many blows.

‘May I see your axe? I have heard about this weapon. Some of my men have served the Normans in Italy and say that you are the only man alive who can wield it to any effect.’

Hereward pulled the axe from his shoulder and handed it to The Cid with one hand.

As soon as he felt its weight, Rodrigo had to use both his hands to support it. ‘This is a mighty axe. I hear that you can use it with one hand?’

‘I can.’ Hereward hesitated. ‘May I call you Rodrigo?’

‘You may, if I may call you Hereward.’

‘Yes, of course. This axe was made for me by a weapons-master of great skill in Goteborg in the land of the Norse. I am lucky; my arms are strong and I have learned to use either hand. In a challenge, the key is to use both hands at the beginning, as any man would, then at the vital moment revert to one hand; it surprises the opponent!’

Rodrigo tried to swing the axe with one hand but could not maintain momentum.

‘Rodrigo, you are very strong. It would not take you long to acquire the technique.’

‘I am not sure. We also have craftsmen skilled in the art of making weapons of war. The best of them are in the city of Toledo, a Taifa kingdom in the land of the Moors. But their speciality is the sword; they can hone an edge so fine you can trim your beard with it, yet the blade is powerful enough to split a man in two if delivered accurately.’

He handed the Great Axe back to Hereward and offered him his sword. The Englishman had heard about Toledo swords, but had never seen one. It was surprisingly light, but felt strong and well balanced. Intricate patterns and scrolls were chased in fine detail to the top of the blade, the handle and the pommel, patterns that Hereward thought were Moorish. He glanced at Rodrigo quizzically.

‘Yes, the designs are Islamic. All the great swordsmiths are Moors; we learn from them all the time. Scholars, monks and apothecaries travel here from all over Europe to cross into the south in search of knowledge. There is a border area between the two parts of Spain, where both Christians and Moors mingle freely. It can be a little lawless at times, but it allows passage into Muslim Spain, the empire we call The Almoravide Dominion.’

Hereward was intrigued. He had fought Muslims in Sicily and had been close to their lands in Byzantium, but had never set foot on their soil. ‘Have you been to the Dominion?’

‘Yes, many times, I have good friends there. The climate is warm and their cities are splendid. Cordoba, Seville, Granada, Valencia are all wonderful places to visit.’ Rodrigo stopped himself from becoming too carried away about the attractions of his homeland. ‘Hereward of Bourne, famous warrior and survivor of many battles, why have you come to Castile?’

‘How much do you know of the events in England?’

‘A little. I know of Hardrada and Harold, and of the Duke of Normandy’s victory in the great battle for the throne. Now he is King, and I presume that makes you two renegades. I see you travel with a man from Granada. A good choice; Andalucians fight well.’

Alphonso, a little shy about translating such glowing praise about himself, responded to Rodrigo in his own language, Castilian. ‘Thank you, my Lord Cid. It is an honour to meet the most feared warrior in Spain.’

‘The honour is mine, Alphonso of Granada. Your noble service with Hereward fills everyone in Spain with pride. We are honoured that you have travelled to the court of my Lord, Diego, but I trust you do not seek our support to win back the English throne? We have no interests beyond the Pyrenees, let alone in England.’

‘It is not support we need; we search for wisdom.’

‘You flatter us, Hereward.’