Crusade

‘So, how old would she be now?’

‘In her mid-thirties.’

‘Well, could it be her?’

Sweyn began to smile as he realized that Adela may be right.

‘It just might be.’

The two of them ran off towards her, with Edwin and myself in their wake. Sweyn got the question out first.

‘Madam, may we ask you your name? We think we may know you…’

‘I am Adeliza, a sister of Whalley Abbey. And you, sir?’

‘I am Sweyn of Bourne… I am sorry… we thought we recognized you.’

‘Who did you think I was?’

Still convinced she was right, Adela interrupted with a mix of excitement and impatience in her voice.

‘We thought you were Estrith of Melfi, the daughter of Hereward of Bourne.’

The nun looked around nervously to be sure no one was listening.

‘Come, let us go somewhere where we can talk quietly.’

The nun ushered us away behind the huts where the masons lived, where she was sure no one could see or hear her.

‘I’m sorry, I have to be so careful… It’s Adela, isn’t it?’

Both in a deluge of tears, the two women fell into each other’s arms.

‘I recognized you and Edwin; Sweyn I didn’t recognize, he was so young when I saw him last. And you, sir, should I recognize you?’

‘I am Edgar — we have met before, but it was a long time ago.’

Edwin helped the nun with more details as Adela added Sweyn to their embrace.

‘This is Edgar, Prince of this realm.’

‘My apologies, my Lord, I intended no disrespect.’

‘Don’t apologize. I am just Edgar. These are my good friends — like your father was and, I hope, you will be too.’

‘Thank you. Yes, I am Hereward’s daughter, Estrith of Melfi, not Adeliza of Whalley. I travel incognito; the Normans have forgotten who I am, but I don’t want anything to remind them.’

Adela launched into all sorts of reminiscences. Realizing that there was a lot to talk about, I suggested we ride out into the woods beyond the River Wear so that we could relax and exchange our stories at leisure, well away from the din of the masons’ labours. Our escort came with us but respectfully kept its distance.

Adela soon resumed the eager questioning.

‘We went to Launceston and heard the terrible news about Gunnhild. It must be hard for you not to have your sister with you.’

‘It is, but her suffering was so great, her passing was a mercy. I have tried to make my own way ever since. Our guardian, Robert of Mortain, was a good man, a typical Norman — uncompromising and strong-willed — but he was kind to us and we grew to like him. When Gunnhild died, he let me leave, which I appreciated greatly.’

Adela explained that, although we had pleaded with him, he refused to tell us where she was.

‘I’m not surprised. That was his way; he’d made me a promise and that was the end of it. He’s dead now; I heard he was banished to Normandy after his support for Odo’s rebellion in 1088 and died there a couple of years ago.’

‘We searched high and low for you, but could never find you.’

‘I would have been in Normandy at that time. I did take Holy Orders and I am an ordained nun, but my skill is masonry.’

Although we were all intrigued to know how a nun became a mason, Sweyn was the first to voice the other question we all wanted to ask.

‘Forgive me for asking you something that may be painful for you to answer, but we all think about him every day. What can you tell us about what happened to your father?’

‘Don’t be afraid to ask, he was like a father to you as well. Sadly, I can’t give you an answer. I wish I could. What happened in St Etheldreda’s Chapel will haunt me to my dying day, as it did Gunnhild, even in the agony of her death throes.’

We had found a place to sit in a beautiful glade. Even though it was late February, the bright sun of a crisp, clear day had dried the grass. Estrith got up and started to pace around, probably so that she could turn away from us should she want to hide the anguish on her face.

‘At the end of the siege and the awful carnage, William had my father flayed close to death. We were dragged into the Chapel, where a terrible confrontation began. William demanded that our father renounce the Oath of the Brotherhood of St Etheldreda, the solemn vow that all the defenders of Ely had taken. When he refused, the King was on the verge of striking him down with our father’s own weapon, the Great Axe of Goteborg, when there was a blinding burst of sunlight. The King was transfixed for a moment, then he staggered from the Chapel and suddenly collapsed, clutching his chest. He was carried away and we were locked in, alone with our father, who was on the brink of death. It was pitiful… he was in such pain and we were just girls with no idea what to do… but he survived… he was so strong. We nursed him as best we could, until he regained some strength…’

She turned away for a while, fighting back the tears. The glade fell still, with only the faint babble of the distant Wear breaking the silence.