"Verycertain," replied Eada.
"Didhe die bravely?"
Ittroubled her that she could be so certain of Harold's fate when she had notseen even one sword-stroke of the battle, but Eada heard herself answer firmly,"Bravely, but not easily. Our new rulers showed him no mercy and did notact with honor."
Itsurprised her when both Godwin and May accepted her words without question. Shealso felt comforted by their calm belief in her. At least with them she did nothave to hide her skill or fear how they would treat her. It was good to knowthat there were others besides Drogo with whom she could be completely honest.
"Areour Normans still alive?" asked May.
Eadahad to bite back a smile over the way May referred to Drogo and his men asourNormans."Yes, I believe they are. Everything within me says that theysurvived the battle, but that could be born of hope and not of my newskill." She shrugged. "I wish it too much to completely trust what myheart and mind tell me. I have not had this strange gift long enough to knowwhat is a truesendingand what is just my own hopes and fears."
"Youwant Sir Drogo to survive."
"Ido and not simply because we are lovers. He is a good, honest, and fair man. IfI must be troubled by a Norman, I want it to be by him."
"Andnot a man like Sir Guy," muttered Godwin as he slowly stood up. "I donot suppose you have seen him die? Slowly and in great pain?"
"No,I fear not. Do you return to your own camp now?"
"Yes.If Harold is dead, then the battle will soon end. Even if he is not, the nightcomes and that will end the fighting. I had best be in Sir Guy's camp andprepared for his return."
Eadawatched him leave, gently shepherding Hilde's children in front of him. Godwinheld the promise of being a very good man. She prayed that Sir Guy would notend that promise with his cruelty.
Amoment later she followed Ivo's lead and began to prepare for Drogo's return.She had known the fate of the Saxons long before the battle, yet she feltweighted down with sorrow. As she worked, she struggled to banish suchfeelings. Although she knew she would not be able to celebrate Drogo's victorywith him, she would not condemn him for it either.
Thevictorious Normans began to return to camp, and Eada went into Drogo's tent.She built a small fire in the hollowed-out ground that marked the center of thetent and began to prepare Drogo's meal. It was probably cowardly to hide, butshe suspected it was the only way she could hope to keep her composure. Wrappedin the privacy of Drogo's tent, she could ignore the celebration of the Normanvictory. By the time Drogo joined her, she wanted to be, if not happy, at leastresigned and calm. Eada prayed that he would not want to talk about the battle,for that could easily break her hard-won control.
"Whereis Eada?" Drogo asked even as Ivo stripped away the last of his begrimedclothing.
"Shewaits in your tent." Ivo emptied one last bucket of hot water into the vatas Drogo stepped in. "She knows you have won. She told us that King Haroldis dead."
Drogogrimaced then nodded as he began to scrub off the dirt, sweat, and blood ofbattle. He was both relieved that, somehow, Eada already knew what had happenedand annoyed that she had revealed her unsettling gift before others again. Itfrightened him to think of what could happen to her if anyone outside their ownsmall group discovered her unusual skills. He could no longer guarantee hersafety if the cry went out that she was a witch.
"Williamis the king now?" Ivo asked as he scrubbed Drogo's back.
"Yes,although he will not be crowned until we reach London and that could be manymonths from now. For now, we will bury our many dead and wait for the Englishnobles to come and declare fealty to William."
"Doyou think they will come?"
"No,but I cannot truly judge what these people will do. I only pray that there willbe no more of the slaughter I saw today. It would be best if Eada did notventure near the battlefield. Many of the Saxon dead will probably be left torot upon the battlefield, and it is not a sight for her pretty eyes."
"Noone will bury the Saxons?"
Drogocould see how that distressed Ivo, and as he stepped out of the vat and beganto rub himself dry with a blanket, he patted his big servant on the back."Their kinsmen will either be too frightened or too far away to tend tothe dead. That is often the way. And we will spend days burying our own deadbefore we march on. Do not let that trouble you, Ivo. You cannot bury them alleither."
Ivonodded as he helped Drogo put on clean hose and a jupon. "I buried oneSaxon today." He slowly told Drogo about Hilde.
"Thatwas most kind of you, Ivo. Now, you can return to your woman. I do not think Iwill require your aid again this night."
AsDrogo walked to his tent, he thought about what Ivo had just told him. He feltcertain that there was far more to the tale of Hilde's untimely death. He hadonly seen the woman occasionally in Sir Guy's camp, but although it had beenevident that she was not hale in her mind, she had not looked as if she wereabout to drop dead.
Heslipped into his tent, saw Eada kneeling by the central fire, and sighed. Therewas no real outward sign of her grief and sadness, yet he knew it was there. Hewalked over, sat down beside her on the sheepskin, and wondered what, ifanything, he should say as he silently accepted the bowl of lamb stew sheserved him. It had pleased him that she had not been there to see him returncovered in the dirt and stench of battle, but he realized that had notdispelled what now sat between them like a living thing, only delayed it. As heate, he watched her and struggled to find the right words to cross thatemotional distance that had suddenly sprung up between them.
Eadaate her food even though she was finding it hard to swallow. She knew Drogo wasstaring at her; she could feel it. Her attempt to appear calm and unconcernedwas evidently not working or had completely confused him. One glance at histhoughtful face told her that he was considering talking about the battle, andshe dreaded that. She was too full of emotion to discuss the Saxon defeat yet.There was little chance she would be able to control what she said, and shefeared she would spit her anger and grief at him or even insult him, neither ofwhich he deserved.
Whatshe had to do, she decided as she set her bowl down, was distract him. When healso set his bowl down and turned to face her, she suddenly knew exactly how todo that. She would seduce him, allowing passion to push aside his concerns andquestions. The thought made her tremble faintly with a mixture of uncertaintyand anticipation. Seeing how he had come through the fierce battle hale andunmarked had made her eager to make love to him, but she was not sure she hadthe skill or the courage to be the seducer. In their short time together aslovers, it had been Drogo who had begun and led the lovemaking.
"Eada,"Drogo began hesitantly. "Ivo told me that you already know who won thebattle and the fate of your king."
