Conquest

Hereward removed it from his neck and placed it, cautiously, in the Pope’s outstretched hands.

‘It is remarkable. I have seen many things in the crypt of the Vatican, but this is truly amazing.’

He passed it to the others. Hildebrand took it with the inquisitive look of the curious intellectual; Desiderius, clearly ill at ease, glared at it with contempt.

‘Hildebrand has persuaded us that your quest for the meaning of the amulet is laudable — dangerous, but laudable. Desiderius would have me lock it away and have you two do penance in Rome, but I don’t think that is necessary. Your quest together, in search of wisdom for yourselves and for the ultimate recipient of what you call the Talisman of Truth, is commendable. Your remarkable journey so far has persuaded me that we should let you continue.

‘Hereward of Bourne, take good care of your wife. You should be careful and constantly seek the guidance of God in what you do. I cannot bless the amulet because I am mindful of Cardinal Desiderius’ dire warnings, but I will bless you two and the new life that Torfida carries. Kneel, my children.’

The Pope replaced the Talisman around Hereward’s neck, who quickly tucked it under his smock, as the Pontiff placed a hand on their heads and blessed them.

‘Go in peace.’

9. Robert Guiscard

A few days after the Pope and his entourage had left for Rome, Hereward and Torfida presented themselves and their companions to Robert Guiscard, the new lord of southern Italy. The Duke was keen to meet the people about whom he had heard so much over the last few days, especially ‘the woman’, as he put it, ‘who dares to speak to popes’.

He exchanged courtesies, then turned to Hereward. ‘What brings such noble and important Northerners to our humble dukedom?’

The sarcasm in the Duke’s voice prompted Hereward to speak up. After Torfida’s insistence that they should travel south to serve with Robert Guiscard, she had been helping Hereward improve the simple Norman French he had been taught as a child by Aidan, Priest of Bourne.

‘My Lord Duke, we are soldiers committed to fighting for the cause of the righteous. It is said that you are charged with uniting Italy by removing from its foothold here the Empire of Byzantium, a distant realm that no longer recognizes the Church of Rome. You also plan to rid Sicily of the Saracens, an alien people with a strange religion. We can think of no better cause than yours in the two duties you have been given by his Holiness. We offer our services as senior commanders in your garrison, particularly in the preparation and training of your men.’

‘That is an elegant introduction, Hereward of Bourne. So, not only do you presume to know the details of my arrangements with the Pontiff, you have the gall to suggest that you can teach us how to fight!’

The Duke guffawed heartily and turned to his court, all of whom laughed with him. A solid, round-faced man with ruddy cheeks and a thin patchy beard, he could easily have been a butcher or a blacksmith, had not his and his family’s notorious cunning and strength of arm elevated him to the lofty perch of a dukedom.

‘I carry with me parchments testifying to our standing from Queen Gruoch of Scotland, widow of Macbeth, and Iziaslav I, Grand Prince of Kiev and King of the Rus. We would not presume to teach Norman warlords how to fight. Your reputation and that of your kin goes before you, but we wish to join you as highly skilled and experienced soldiers who can help your cause. I would like to serve at the level of knight, my companions, the mighty Einar and the brave Martin Lightfoot, as sergeants-at-arms.

‘Anything else: a pension, lands in Normandy, one of my daughters as a concubine?’ He chortled loudly again.

As before, his court joined with him, enjoying the Duke’s sardonic repartee.

‘Just to serve, my Lord Duke.’ Hereward was solemn and calm, trying not to rise to the Duke’s baiting.

Guiscard turned to his younger brother, Roger, who had recently arrived from Normandy for the celebrations and would soon begin campaigning in Sicily. He lowered his voice to a whisper. For what seemed an eternity the two spoke in hushed but animated tones, their conversation private.

Hereward glanced at his companions, who looked around uneasily, assessing the odds in what could be a very difficult situation. Guiscard was clearly a brute of a man; an adventurer successful enough to enlist the blessing of popes but, nonetheless, an ogre. Einar counted a dozen heavily armed men in the room. Then, from another chamber, the Duchess Adela appeared, a stout and maternal figure, and approached Torfida.

‘I hear you are a philosopher and speaker of many tongues. I see you are also with child. The women in the town say you are a witch powerful enough to seduce popes, and that the child is the Devil’s progeny.’

Torfida bowed to the Duchess. ‘Your Grace, the child is my husband’s, Hereward of Bourne, a great knight of England. I am his obedient wife and your Grace’s humble servant.’