Stewart Binns - Conquest

‘I thought it was a myth. Your father must have been a very special man for the Queen to entrust him with it.’

Torfida’s vivid account, with Edith’s support, convinced Harold that there was some merit in her suggestion that she should try to meet the King.

‘It is possible I could introduce you. Your credentials as a scholar are impeccable, and the King is an intellectual and a philosopher; he might just warm to you. Hereward, you should go to Glastonbury immediately and join your companions. It is you who sends the King into a rage. He knows about your service with Gruffydd and Macbeth; he never forgets an enemy and never forgives one. As your guarantor, I have assured the King that you will do nothing and go nowhere, except under my strict authority. I will tell him I’ve sent you well away from London to train with my housecarls at Glastonbury; that will placate him a little.

‘As for Torfida, the ideal moment will be shortly after the King’s architect has handed over the key to the great oak door of the new abbey, while his choir sings for him and he is admiring his new creation. I will tell him of your wisdom and knowledge of the great buildings of the ancient world, and that you have come to admire his new work.’

Torfida seemed enthused, but looked to Hereward for reassurance.

He responded uncertainly. ‘I am reluctant to leave you here in London while I sit in Glastonbury with the fate of the throne hanging in the balance. It is a plan worth trying, but how will you switch the conversation from the wonders and intricacies of his abbey to the succession of the throne of England?’

Harold responded to Hereward’s question. ‘That will be my responsibility. I will remind him that Torfida was in the service of the Duke. Then, if he is prepared to listen, you must tell him about the Duke’s wild temper and about the personal beatings and executions.’

Torfida hesitated and took a deep breath. ‘I must trust that he doesn’t realize I never actually met the Duke, and that it is Hereward who witnessed these things.’

Edith nodded at Torfida’s words, and smiled. ‘So, my Lord, you agree.’

‘I do.’

Hereward was ready to leave for Wessex early the next morning. Torfida would stay with Edith in London, to be ready for her meeting with the King. After Hereward had kissed Torfida goodbye and mounted his horse, Harold took leave of him.

‘This is our final throw of the dice. Torfida is a brilliant and striking woman, but I’m afraid the chances of the King agreeing to talk to her are slim. Then, even if she gets beyond that obstacle, there is little chance that he will hear ill of his chosen successor, especially from a woman.’

‘But Torfida is remarkable, my Lord. Let us not give up hope just yet. The Talisman could be the key.’

‘I do not give up hope, Hereward, but I must prepare for the inevitability that William will still be the named successor upon the King’s death. Then, to have any chance of defeating the Duke, I will have to seize power before he arrives on these shores; and I will need the whole of England behind me. Although the main army is mine, I need the housecarls of all the earls and the support of the Fyrd. The Godwin family has many enemies in England and it is a far from foregone conclusion that all the earls and thegns will support me.’

Hereward was encouraged by the direction of Harold’s thinking. ‘So you will take the throne if Edward does not bestow it upon you or nominate Edgar?’

‘Edgar the Atheling remains the right choice; I still hope for that. In the meantime, Hereward, you can be of great service to me. Go to Glastonbury with this parchment. It is for my brother Gyrth, Earl of East Anglia. He is there in training with a large force of my housecarls. It tells him you are a most trusted knight and that you are to have the freedom to inspect my men, wherever they might be. Go to Salisbury, Exeter, Gloucester and Oxford, where I also have men in training. I am strengthening the army as quickly as I can and I want your opinion of them. You know how good William’s men are. I need to know how my men compare with Europe’s finest, especially Hardrada’s and William’s. Be totally frank; if it comes to a fight, as it almost certainly will, I need to know what our chances are.’

‘By the time we meet again, my Lord, I will know your men and their talents like the back of my hand.’ Hereward paused and looked at Harold with firm resolve. ‘My Lord, I want you to know that in this fight I will always be at your side. If you fall, I fall; if you triumph, I will be the first to lift you on to my shoulders as the rightful King of England.’

‘Thank you, Hereward of Bourne. Go well, my friend.’

As Hereward rode off, Harold’s horse was brought to him. His Captain and his personal guards were already mounted as he bade farewell to Edith.

‘There are many important men in London and along the Thames that I must talk to. I will leave four of my best men here; I don’t want any of the King’s eavesdroppers hiding in dark corners. The King will be given the key to his abbey and take communion there on Sunday next. I will be back no later than twilight on Saturday.’

He kissed Edith fondly. ‘Take good care of Torfida; she has a miracle to perform on the Sabbath hence.’

‘I will, my darling. We have much idle women’s talk to keep us occupied.’

Edith’s words reflected the two women’s firm friendship, grounded in a shared commitment to finding a solution for England’s predicament.

As Harold rode off to canvas opinion about the dark days ahead, he knew that whatever Edith and Torfida talked of, it would not be ‘idle’.

Many hundreds of people were waiting outside the King’s new abbey church at Westminster for the ceremony of the keys. People had been streaming across the meadows of Chelsea and Holborn all morning. Ludgate was a sight to behold, as the wealthy city burghers, merchants and guilds-men, resplendent in their livery, filed across the old Roman bridge over the River Fleet and made their way through the thriving settlements of the Strand towards the lush green fields of Westminster. There, gleaming in the sun, was the King’s symbol of a new England, the finest church in northern Europe.

Edith and Torfida had met Harold earlier and he had described precisely the route Edward would take that day. As Earl Marshal, Harold was responsible for all of the King’s public appearances, his itinerary and when and where he would meet people. Harold and Torfida had chosen the exact place within the abbey where she would stand, waiting for the King to pass. Edith would stay hidden among the King’s retinue. He was not in favour of Harold displaying his mistress at court, especially since his recent political marriage to Ealdgyth, widow of Gruffydd ap Llywelyn.

There were loud cheers when the King arrived, but Torfida was shocked to see how old and frail he was. He walked with a stoop, his gait more of a shuffle than a stride, his beard and hair silver grey and his eyes red-rimmed and sunken.

With a deep bow, Teinfrith the Churchwright handed the King the huge key to the heavy oak door. This ceremony was intended merely to mark the passing of the keys, as King Edward planned to have the ceremony of consecration at Christmas. The key, the length of a man’s arm from fingertip to elbow, was so cumbersome the King had to use both hands to insert it into the lock. When he turned it, a distinctive clang could be heard as the mechanism opened.

More loud cheers went up as the King entered the tall and elegant interior. The public followed their monarch into the nave, as far as its halfway point, while the monks began the sacred melody of plainchant, sending waves of sound echoing around the massive Romanesque columns and arches. It was the first sight that the King’s subjects had had of the wonder of the age. All stood and marvelled at it, their necks straining as they peered upwards. Torfida had made her way to her designated position, close to the altar. She had several minutes to wait while the King, guided by Teinfrith and his master masons, made his procession. Harold, with Edward’s hearthtroops, stewards and physicians, followed closely behind. The King listened intently to everything that was said to him and took a particular interest in the carving, especially the finely decorated capitals of the arches.