Conquest

William’s demeanour had not softened; the many pleas to him to loosen the vicious grip he had on the neck of England had been to no avail. His cruelty still knew no bounds and there was no hint of compassion in his heart. Nevertheless, Hereward believed it had been worth the struggle. Even if the King remained unmoved, what was happening on the Isle of Ely had lit a powerful beacon to signal that men do have rights and that they are entitled to defend them, even against their sovereign lord. The message of the Talisman of Truth was clear: no evil is so great that it cannot be overcome, not even that of the Devil.

Hereward was about to return to try to get some sleep, when Gunnhild and Estrith appeared.

As usual, they spoke as a duet. ‘We do understand what you are trying to do, Father; it’s just that we don’t want to lose you… We have lost our mother… We don’t want to lose our father as well.’

He knelt down to look them in the eye. ‘One day you will have children of your own and will understand that sometimes things have to be done that are not concerned with the needs of the present, but the well-being of future generations. Everything that has happened here — the Brotherhood, our Oath, and the fight against the King’s cruelty — has a single aim: to make sure that those terrible things that happened in Bourne, to your grandmother and grandfather and all the others, never happen again. Our deeds are also a tribute to your mother’s memory. Torfida shared this burden with me from the very beginning, and her wisdom still guides me in my thoughts and helps me in my moments of doubt.’

‘We know, Father.’ They held him tightly.

After a while, he carried them back to their tent and put them to bed. As they kissed him goodnight, he could see the anxiety in their eyes; if ever there was a moment to abandon his cause, this was it.

Just then, in unison, they smiled at him. ‘We love you.’

‘I love you too.’

They closed their eyes and he bent down to kiss them. With tears rolling down his cheeks, he sat with them until long after they had fallen asleep.

It was the most difficult thing he had ever had to do.

30. Denouement

Everyone was in position long before dawn — defenders and attackers alike. Edmund proudly unfurled Hereward’s standard, the Great Axe of Goteborg, and those who had fought with him in the North flew his gold, crimson and black pennons.

Hereward checked his astrolabe; the date was 14 October 1071, five years to the day from the momentous events of Senlac Ridge.

Earl Morcar was in command to the north, Siward Bjorn to the west, Thorkill of Harringworth to the east, while Hereward took charge of the all-important southern defences at Aldreth. Everything was ready, all preparations made, every detail attended to.

Now it was time to fight.

The sky was threatening and the wind howling, drowning any sounds except, carried from afar, the snorting and stomping of the Norman destriers. Hereward grasped the Talisman just as William gave the signal to attack.

This time, the causeway held as a relentless stream of Norman cavalry hurtled towards Aldreth. The defenders launched a fusillade of arrows and javelins, inflicting heavy casualties on the front ranks of the Norman squadrons. When the cavalry reached the end of the causeway, they were able to fan out across the shallow water. Some became trapped in the cloying mud, lost to a lingering death, but most got a firm footing and started to assail the Brotherhood’s bank and ditch. The defenders at the top adopted the tactics of the shield wall of the English army, placing their shields on the parapet and using their spears above and swords between. A cacophony of yells and screams, clanging armour and straining horses filled the air.

Initially, the bank held, with many Normans floundering in the ditch, but eventually the number of squadrons pouring across the causeway became overwhelming. Following in their wake were massed ranks of infantry, with waterborne assaults and aerial bombardments around Ely’s entire perimeter. Hereward, realizing that Ely’s outer defences would soon be breached, ordered a general retreat to the burgh’s walls. To cover the withdrawal, he led a counter-attack, using his hearthtroop in a mounted charge against the advancing Norman cavalry.

Hereward’s charge led to a ferocious clash of mounted warriors, which lasted for over two hours and cost him many men, some of whom had been with him from the beginning. They had been in the charge against the Norwegians at Stamford Bridge, had stood their ground on Senlac Ridge and then fought against William in the campaigns in the North. He watched as they fell all around him — England’s finest, the bravest of men, almost the last of Harold’s legendary housecarls.