Crusade

After some discussion, it was agreed that Edwin would travel to Mazara with our men and that Sweyn and Adela would stay with me.

Adela had now begun her training with Sweyn and Ibn Hamed’s knights. They had both become firm friends with the Emir’s men and it was fascinating to watch them develop their skills in the various Saracen practice routines. One particular skill they started to master — an expertise unknown in the armies of Europe — was the use of the recurved eastern bow, a powerful, accurate weapon at close quarters and small enough to be used on horseback.

Sweyn ultimately became so proficient with the bow at a gallop that he could outscore all the Saracen knights. Adela did not yet have the strength on her left side to steady the bow, but she began to impress everyone with the speed of her footwork and her dexterity with a sword in duels. She adapted well to the curved sabre of the Saracens and soon exchanged her straight European blade for the slashing Arab scimitar. Even with her left hand in a sling to protect her shoulder, and hampered by the weakness in her left leg, she was still able to practise duelling with the Emir’s best swordsmen.

Hassan Taleb, the Emir’s finest warrior, took Sweyn and Adela under his wing and helped them hone their skills.

It was a particular delight to see him tutor Adela in the art of the sword: advance and retreat, thrust and parry, strike and deflect. Their movements flowed with a poise that belied their purpose — they looked more like the elegant moves of a graceful dance than the crude paces of a ruthless slaying. She was only ever outdone in a routine against far stronger men, or against the finest swordsmen — and then only after putting up a ferocious defence.

It was obvious that Hassan had designs on Adela. Clearly a man used to getting what he wanted, he was big and powerful, charming and chivalrous. He flirted with her, fussed over her and fed her ego. Sweyn became less and less happy with the overt attention.

A clash seemed imminent, so I decided to raise the subject with him.

‘Will you speak to Adela about Hassan?’

‘I already have, my Lord. She knows it is a problem, but doesn’t know how to deal with it. Adela told me that she had confided in you about us… and about her situation.’

‘Do you mind that?’

‘No, she needs someone to speak to besides me. She sees me as her younger brother and you as her elder brother.’

‘That makes me your elder brother also.’

‘I know, sire. So, may I also share something with you?’

‘Yes, you may… as long as you stop calling me “sire” while doing so.’

‘Adela has told me that she finds Hassan attractive, but only in outline. When her thoughts go beyond the superficial, she sees only Ogier the Breton, the monster from Bourne, and all the memories from those terrible days come flooding back. It is a curse that denies her so much.’

‘I fear it is a burden she will carry all her life.’

‘I want to help her.’

‘We all want to help her.’

‘But I am her husband.’

‘In name only.’

‘Yes… but the truth is, I yearn for her. I lie next to her night after night and all I want to do is comfort her, make love to her and make her memories go away.’

I suddenly realized that in the midst of all my anguish about Adela’s predicament I had ignored Sweyn and his inner thoughts and anxieties. Quite apart from his own childhood traumas, he was now telling me that he had nightly suffered the purgatory of lying next to a woman who was, in the eyes of the outside world, his wife but who treated him like a brother in a marriage of convenience when, all along, he desired her with a hunger.

‘It is an impossible situation for both of you. Can you not find comfort with someone else? Adela would understand and give you her blessing.’

‘She would, and she encourages me all the time. But I have two problems. How do I find someone in this nomadic life we lead? And, more importantly, no other woman comes close to Adela in my mind. All I want is her.’

‘Have you told her this?’

‘No, I cannot. If she knew, it would ruin everything. She would either feel sorry for me and let me take her out of pity, or she would leave me in order to prevent the agony continuing. I couldn’t bear either.’

‘I am so sorry. How can I help?’

‘You cannot. It is my cross to bear.’

Sweyn walked away despondently, leaving me to reflect on two lives which, like so many others, had been devastated by the savagery of the Norman Conquest of our homeland.

The inevitable confrontation with Hassan Taleb took place a few days later. Adela had been practising her swordplay with him when she slipped and fell to the ground, hurting her damaged shoulder in the process. He had helped to her feet, but lingered too long and too suggestively with his arm around her. She had pulled away angrily and marched from the practice ground, muttering to herself and shaking her head.

Sweyn arrived moments later. Adela refused to say what had happened, but Sweyn realized immediately who had caused her distress.