Reckless (Age of Conquest #5) - Tamara Leigh Page 0,28
his threat to plant your head and those of your followers atop pikes, but I believe greater his effort and more easily justified to God, William, and our countrymen if it is more than the loss of treasures Turold seeks to avenge. As the Danes have much appetite for ransoming, they might take the holy men with them as well as the abbey’s riches.”
He saw argument in Hereward’s eyes, but that was all, likely since what Vitalis had predicted had come to pass. Those holy items Hereward had wished to deny the conquerors was now entirely under the protection of Danes stationed inside and outside the chapel.
The rebel leader made a sound between a growl and a groan. “You are right the earl is not to be trusted, but I believe all will be different with Prince Canute now his sire has crossed to England to provide guidance.”
“You know I do not agree with you, and I have good cause from my experience with Danish betrayal and the earl’s greed,” Vitalis said, “but as these are your men and they look to you to lead, I know it is not for me to decide their fate. It is for you and God.” He sheathed his sword that, unlike Hereward’s fine weapon, was nameless and would remain so. Then as if struck by a thought, though he had maneuvered their conversation toward faith, he said, “What of Abbot Thurstan?”
He referred to the holy man appointed to Ely’s abbey by the departed King Harold, the gate of that House of God having been secured since the Danes’ arrival on the isle. “Have you consulted him to determine the best course for the holy men held hostage?”
Hereward scowled. “Though mostly we are well with each other, I know what he would say about the prior and monks, as well as the treasure stored in the town’s chapel. Thus, I do not need his scratchy woman’s voice rebuking me for what was right in the moment, nor complaints of the abuse his knees suffer in praying for my wretched soul.”
“Surely he is not a false man of God the same as Bishop Odo?”
“I do not believe that,” the rebel leader said, then narrowed his eyes. “I know what you do, Vitalis.”
“I but remind you as I was reminded when it was my hands in which the lives of many rested—consult the Lord, and if you do not hear His voice, speak with one who does.”
“Then the Lord told you to disband the Rebels of the Pale?”
Though it was said with accusation, Vitalis refused to be offended. “I cannot say it was His voice that spoke into my heart and head or my own, but the priest who ministered to us believed it was time to disband my followers.”
Hereward searched his face, then heaved a sigh. “Mayhap I shall seek Abbot Thurstan’s tiresome counsel.”
Though Vitalis wanted to encourage him to do it this day so the holy men were released before the arrival of Prince Canute whose added forces could render Hereward’s leadership impotent, he sensed if he pushed harder his advice would be discarded.
“I thank you for the sword practice,” Hereward said. “You are a worthy opponent.”
“As are you, Hereward.”
“But not as worthy as one Wulfen-trained,” the man said with a note of resentment.
“I do not doubt you could better many a Wulfen-trained knight,” Vitalis said. “Your training was excellent.”
“Nay, ’twas not, but adequate enough to keep me alive until I could increase my skills with much experience.”
He spoke of his exile which he had survived by selling his sword arm on the continent.
“Now return to training my men so greater their chance of killing than being killed when next they face Normans,” he said and started to turn away. He looked around. “When next we meet at swords, I wish to learn all you possess that I do not.”
Hereward was not as strategic in wielding arms, but he read his opponent well. Theirs had been a match worthy of drawing a crowd, and it would have had not the rebel leader commanded the others to attend to their own practice, but for all the jarring clashes of metal on metal, shouts and grunts, and near mortal swings, Vitalis had not given all and would not. He had no wish to replace Hereward as the leader of these men, neither in reality nor mere imaginings. Hence, better they believe the one they followed was at least as proficient as the warrior honing their skills.