Conquest

Whether or not Hardrada realized Tostig was being disingenuous about loyalty to him in the North, it seemed not to matter. The King, who had listened carefully to all that had been said, stood and regarded the grand gathering of his kinsmen. He made eye contact with many, trying to gauge their mood.

‘Since the treaty of the Goda River with King Svein of the Danes, we have been at peace. Our battles with Denmark are over, but the years of peace have blunted our axes. England is rich; its maidens are fair. Are we not Vikings?’

He was carefully manipulating his audience, rekindling the fire in the hearts of his warriors. They began to shout their approval, stamp their feet and thump their shields with their fists.

‘I am now fifty-two years old, but my thirst for battle has not been quenched. This noble English earl has brought us word of a great opportunity. He is right, England is weak. Viking rule can be restored to York, to Winchester, to London. Send out messengers, raise your men, bring your ships. We invade England in the summer!’

A great chorus of approval reverberated around the hall as Tostig looked on in awe at the Norsemen in full cry. His wily plotting was paying off: to the south, the Normans were building their fleet; in the north the Norwegians would soon be gathering theirs; in the east his own force was being prepared in Flanders by his loyal deputy, Copsig.

Tostig seemed to have Harold exactly where he wanted him — outnumbered and surrounded.

15. Comet in the Heavens

‘The days are growing longer, Hereward.’

‘Yes, sire. It will soon be May Day; the Duke’s ships must be ready by now.’

Hereward was with King Harold on the south coast, at Dover, inspecting the local defences. Small garrisons had been commissioned along the entire coast, from the Tees in the north to the Severn in the west. News of a landing of any sort, be it Scandinavian or Norman, would be with the King within hours.

Harold had recently presided over his Easter Gemot at Westminster, which began on Easter Day, 16 April 1066. In an unprecedented session of law-making lasting ten days, Harold had instituted wholesale changes to England’s institutions: he had altered the tax structure to help those struggling to meet the demands of their lords; ordered the opening of new mints for the production of extra coinage to boost commerce; devolved back to the earls and thegns powers which had been garnered by King Edward; and, to the exclusion of Edward’s Norman placements, promoted prominent Saxons to senior positions in the Church and local administration.

Neither man had seen his woman in months. Edith Swan-Neck was in Winchester keeping a wary eye on Harold’s sister, Edith, King Edward’s widow, so that she could warn him of any scheming between her and Tostig. Torfida and the twins were in Glastonbury with the rest of Hereward’s entourage, helping Harold’s quartermasters with the onerous task of maintaining his standing army of housecarls. It was fortunate for Harold that England was rich in taxes from its productive farmers and the foreign merchants who came with gold and silver to buy the products of England’s thriving economy.

Hereward had sent Alphonso to Normandy to assess the strength of the Duke’s forces and gauge the preparedness of his fleet. He was due to return any day.

‘We need Alphonso’s report, sire. Your spies give us contradictory stories; I fear they tell us what they think we want to hear, or just repeat the local gossip from Normandy’s taverns.’

The King looked up at the rapidly darkening late evening sky above the towering white cliffs of Dover’s natural defences. The sea was dark and sombre with no moon to cast its reflection on the heaving waves. Hereward looked at the King’s silhouetted profile; here was a man balancing precariously on the fulcrum of history. In the coming months, the destinies of several kingdoms would be determined by his judgement, his sword arm, and his kingship.

As Hereward pondered Harold’s heavy burden, he suddenly became aware of agitated murmurings in the camp. Men were getting to their feet and pointing to the eastern sky. The King’s quiet contemplation was also disturbed by the commotion.

He looked at Hereward. ‘What is troubling the men?’

‘I don’t know, sire. I have never seen such a thing before.’

Low on the horizon, towards the darkest part of the sky in the south-east, blazed a star no one had seen before. It was as bright as Venus, but had a tail, like the wake of a ball of heavenly fire.

‘The men are scared, my Lord King. They are saying it is an omen of doom.’

‘Calm them, Hereward. It is a comet, an object a long way away among the stars. The ancients saw them and recorded their movements. Remind the men that there was a comet to herald the birth of Jesus, so it is a portent of our victory to come.’