Conquest

Traversing the Downs at speed was an exhilarating experience; even Alphonso, who did not care much for northern climes, appreciated the sense of vitality it brought. It had been agreed that Hereward and his party would stay in Bosham, the harbour settlement of Chichester, where Harold had lands and from where he had set sail for Normandy. Harold would see the King privately at Winchester, to gauge his mood and to hear his current thoughts about the succession. If the King could be persuaded to see him, Harold would send for Hereward, whose first-hand experience might persuade Edward to reconsider his nomination of William as his heir.

The two parties went their separate ways at Arundel. Harold took twelve men north-west towards Winchester, while Hereward and the rest of the retinue headed directly west on the old road to Chichester and Bosham.

To everyone’s dismay, several months passed, during which little was heard from Harold.

The inference was obvious: all was not well with the King. The winter of 1064 turned to the spring of 1065, and Hereward and his loyal band busied themselves to help the people of Bosham. Although they were guests of the Lord of the Manor, they were still a burden on the resources of the area and its people, so they dutifully bent their backs to the mundanity of agriculture and the tedium of domesticity.

To everyone’s relief, word eventually came from Harold in May. The King was to travel to London to see his new abbey church at Westminster. After many years of toil, Edward’s masterpiece, the epitome of his ambition to build a new England, was finished. The most impressive structure in his realm, it was built in the Romanesque style of his Norman kin.

Harold’s message told them to meet him in London on the first day of June. The fact that they had been summoned to London must mean that there had been a development of some kind. Hereward and Torfida travelled alone, while the others went west to Glastonbury, Harold’s seat in Wessex.

London was a thriving community within the old Roman fortress, and an important strategic stronghold. Under Edward’s influence, new houses and wharves were being built all around the old Roman city — to the east at Wapping, across the River Thames at Southwark and Lambeth, and to the west around his new cathedral at Westminster.

They had been told to meet at a large house on Ludgate Hill, the home of Edith Swan-Neck, who enjoyed the bustle of London much more than she did the sedate atmosphere of Glastonbury. Her house was a sight to behold, decorated with fine furniture, silks, tapestries and silver plate more fitting for a queen than a concubine. As her name suggested, she was statuesquely tall with a long, willowy neck. Her blonde hair was tied tightly and cascaded down the length of her back. Her svelte frame was draped in a beautiful crimson silk dress, embroidered with a fine gold border and topped by an upright collar. She had slim hips, a taut stomach — remarkable for a woman who had produced five children — and, to the fascination of everyone who saw her, prodigious breasts, accentuated by her slender build.

Edith was not self-conscious about her womanly assets. She did not try to disguise her femaleness, but was proud of her sexuality. Her face was not beautiful, but it had strikingly sensual features that struck Hereward immediately: strong cheekbones and jaw, an aquiline nose, large emerald-green eyes and full lips.

Harold greeted Hereward and Torfida, before making the introductions. Edith displayed the same flirtatiousness with Torfida as she did towards men, but Torfida responded warmly. She recognized that Edith was a woman who commanded respect and was able to hold her own in a man’s world.

‘I’m afraid I have few intellectual gifts, Torfida, but I try to make the best of the generous assets God has given me. How I wish I had been granted your marvellous blend of beauty and brains. Hereward is a lucky man…’ She grabbed both Hereward and Torfida. ‘And you’re a lucky woman; look at him, what a beast he is.’ She laughed aloud, and pulled them over to sit with her.

The four of them talked for several hours as they enjoyed good English fare and copious amounts of mead. It had been a long excursion in Normandy for Harold, and an even longer exile for Hereward and Torfida. There was much to talk about and, for the most part, it was domestic and mundane chatter.

There would be ample opportunity only too soon for a debate about the perils facing Harold and England.

On the second evening at Ludgate Hill, the conversation finally turned to the pressing issue of the succession to the English throne.

Edward’s health was beginning to decline and he was becoming more and more sullen and cantankerous. Harold did not think he had much more than a few months to live, perhaps less. He had spoken to the King many times on the subject of the succession, but Edward remained steadfast in his view that England needed a new future and that it had to come from Normandy.