Conquest

‘A knightly joust. If that doesn’t end it, a duel — all weapons permitted.’

Hereward nodded and Hamilcar turned on his heels and left.

Rodrigo looked at Hereward with a worried expression. ‘I’m not sure there is a jousting tradition in your homeland. Where did you acquire the art?’

‘I haven’t, my friend. I suppose now is a good time to learn!’

‘Be careful. Hamilcar has never been unseated in a joust; he is very strong. Make sure to aim your lance at his midriff, just above his saddle. It is hard to deflect it from there. Follow the point of his lance with your shield; he may not aim it until the last moment, so watch carefully. Whatever happens, don’t let it come down to a knife fight; he has killed many men in hand-to-hand contests.’

Rodrigo loaned Hereward one of his jousting lances and his finest war horse.

Alphonso helped him prepare. ‘This man has a crazed look in his eye. Kill him quickly!’

Dona Jimena emerged from her tent as Hereward began to ride out to the improvised tilting ground. ‘Be careful, Hereward. I know you are a great warrior, but this man has an evil reputation.’

‘Thank you, Dona Jimena. I will be careful. I have important matters to deal with in England. That is incentive enough to meet whatever danger Hamilcar poses.’

When the two men were in position some sixty yards apart, Rodrigo signalled for the contest to begin.

Lances were lowered and the horses set off at a gallop. Both steeds were soon into their stride and closing on one another at enormous speed. Rodrigo was right about Hamilcar’s threat. He was strong enough to position his lance high above and to the right of Hereward’s head until the moment of impact, when he suddenly dropped it to a trajectory aimed directly at Hereward’s heart. The jousting lance of a knight was far longer and significantly heavier than the battle lance with which Hereward was familiar. He tried to hold it steady, but it was not easy with his horse moving at full gallop. Jousting was a skill requiring endless practice — a training in which Hereward had little experience.

When the collision happened, Hereward had little awareness of the detail of the impact. He hit the floor hard and his head whipped back, rendering him unconscious. Whereas his opponent’s aim had been perfect and had caught Hereward square in the chest, Hamilcar had easily deflected Hereward’s lance with his shield and had only taken a glancing blow. Hereward’s shield had taken the impact but, even so, he had been knocked clean out of his saddle and thrown some distance from his horse.

Dona Jimena wanted to rush to Hereward’s aid, but Rodrigo shook his head. Hamilcar pulled his horse round and rode back to his prone opponent, who was still motionless on the ground. The Moor catapulted himself from his mount with an athletic leap and strode towards the Great Axe of Goteborg, which was lying on the ground where it had fallen. Alphonso, realizing Hamilcar’s intention, made to go to his friend’s aid, until Rodrigo put a heavy hand of restraint on his shoulder.

Even though Hamilcar was a powerful man, he had difficulty lifting Hereward’s huge axe and needed both hands to raise it above his head. His expression was that of a man possessed; his eyes were fixed and he moved with a slow and deliberate gait.

Hereward still had not stirred.

When he regained a vestige of consciousness, the first hazy image Hereward saw was a glint of sun on his Great Axe as Hamilcar began to propel it towards his head. His instincts came to his aid and he rolled away just as his axe embedded itself into the earth only inches from his ear. The ground was still shaking from the impact as Hamilcar struggled to pull the axe from its deep crevice. The narrow escape from his own weapon had brought Hereward to his senses, and he quickly used his legs to flip his opponent on to his back.

Both men regained their footing and drew their swords at the same time. A ferocious sword duel ensued. The flashing blades cut through the air with astonishing rapidity. When they clashed, they created a harmonic percussion of steel striking steel. It was many minutes before the pair began to tire; they were gasping for air and soaked in perspiration, their muscles burning from the exertion, their concentration beginning to falter. Then came a chance occurrence that threw Hereward a crucial advantage.

Hamilcar’s sword broke at the hilt, leaving him with a stub of a blade and vulnerable to Hereward’s next onslaught. The Moor immediately pulled his dagger from his sheath and discarded his shield with a bravado that belied the meagre odds he faced. His weapon was a vicious implement: a saifani jambiya, handed down through his family for generations from his ancestral origins in the Yemen of ancient Arabia. Its short, curved blade was ideal for close-quarters fighting or assassination by stealth.