William bowed and said: “My lord, I’ve brought fifty knights and two hundred men from my earldom.”
Philip’s hopes turned to dust.
Stephen was visibly delighted. “What a good man you are!” he said warmly. “That gives us the advantage over the enemy!” He put his arm around William’s shoulders and walked with him into the cathedral.
Philip stood where he was and watched them go. He had been agonizingly close to success, but in the end William’s army had counted for more than justice, he thought bitterly. The courtier who had helped the king take off the monk’s habit now held the robe out to Philip. Philip took it. The courtier followed the king and his entourage into the cathedral. Philip put on his monastic robe. He was deeply disappointed. He looked at the three huge arched doorways of the cathedral. He had hoped to build archways like that at Kingsbridge. But King Stephen had taken the side of William Hamleigh. The king had been faced with a straight choice: the justice of Philip’s case against the advantage of William’s army. He had failed his test.
Philip was left with only one hope: that King Stephen would be defeated in the forthcoming battle.
II
The bishop said mass in the cathedral when the sky was beginning to change from black to gray. By then the horses were saddled, the knights were wearing their chain mail, the men-at-arms had been fed, and a measure of strong wine had been served to give them all heart.
William Hamleigh knelt in the nave with the other knights and earls, while the war-horses stamped and snorted in the aisles, and was forgiven in advance for the killing he would do that day.
Fear and excitement made William light-headed. If the king won a victory today, William’s name would forever be associated with it, for men would say that he had brought the reinforcements that tipped the balance. If the king should lose ... anything could happen. He shivered on the cold stone floor.
The king was at the front, in a fresh white robe, with a candle in his hand. As the Host was elevated, the candle broke, and the flame went out. William trembled with dread: it was a bad omen. A priest brought a new candle and took away the broken one, and Stephen smiled nonchalantly, but the feeling of supernatural horror stayed with William, and when he looked around he could tell that others felt the same.
After the service the king put on his armor, helped by a valet. He had a knee-length mail coat made of leather with iron rings sewn to it. The coat was slit up to the waist in front and behind so that he could ride in it. The valet laced it tightly at the throat. He then put on a close-fitting cap with a long mail hood attached, covering his tawny hair and protecting his neck. Over the cap he wore an iron helmet with a nosepiece. His leather boots had mail trimmings and pointed spurs.
As he put on his armor, the earls gathered around him. William followed his mother’s advice and acted as if he were already one of them, pushing through the crowd to join the group around the king. After listening for a moment he realized they were trying to persuade Stephen to withdraw and leave Lincoln to the rebels.
“You hold more territory than Maud—you can raise a larger army,” said an older man whom William recognized as Lord Hugh. “Go south, get reinforcements, come back and outnumber them.”
After the portent of the broken candle, William almost wished for withdrawal himself; but the king had no time for such talk. “We’re strong enough to defeat them now,” he said cheerfully. “Where’s your spirit?” He strapped on a belt with a sword on one side and a dagger on the other, both of them in wood-and-leather scabbards.
“The armies are too evenly matched,” said a tall man with short, grizzled hair and a close-trimmed beard: the earl of Surrey. “It’s too risky.”
This was a poor argument to use with Stephen, William knew: the king was nothing if not chivalrous. “Too evenly matched?” he repeated scornfully. “I prefer a fair fight.” He pulled on the leather gauntlets with mail on the backs of the fingers. The valet handed him a long wooden shield covered with leather. He hooked its strap around his neck and held it in his left hand.
“We’ve little to lose by withdrawing at this point,” Hugh persisted. “We aren’t even in possession of the castle.”
“I would lose my chance of meeting Robert of Gloucester on the battlefield,” Stephen said. “For two years he’s been avoiding me. Now that I have an opportunity to deal with the traitor once and for all, I’m not going to pull out just because we’re evenly matched!”
A groom brought his horse, saddled ready. As Stephen was about to mount, there was a flurry of activity around the door at the west end of the cathedral, and a knight came running up the nave, muddy and bleeding. William had a doomy premonition that this would be bad news. As the man bowed to the king, William recognized him as one of Edward’s men who had been sent to guard the ford. “We were too late, lord,” the man said hoarsely, breathing hard. “The enemy has crossed the river.”
It was another bad sign. William suddenly felt colder. Now there was nothing but open fields between the enemy and Lincoln.
Stephen too looked struck down for an instant, but he recovered his composure swiftly. “No matter!” he said. “We will meet them, all the sooner!” He mounted his war-horse.
He had a battle-ax strapped to his saddle. The valet handed him a wooden lance with a bright iron point, completing his weaponry. Stephen clicked his tongue, and the horse obediently moved forward.
As he rode down the nave of the cathedral, the earls, barons and knights mounted and fell in behind him, and they left the cathedral in procession. In the grounds the men-at-arms joined them. This was when men began to feel scared and look for a chance to slip away; but their dignified pace, and the almost ceremonial atmosphere, with the townspeople looking on, meant it would be very difficult for the fainthearted to escape.
Their numbers were augmented by a hundred or more townsmen, fat bakers and shortsighted weavers and red-faced brewers, poorly armored and riding their cobs and palfreys. Their presence was a sign of the unpopularity of Ranulf.
The army could not pass the castle, for they would have been exposed to archery fire from its battlements, so they left the town by the north gate, which was called Newport Arch, and turned west. This was where the battle would be fought.
William studied the terrain with a keen eye. Although the hill on the south side of the town sloped steeply to the river, here on the west there was a long ridge which fell gently to the plain. William saw immediately that Stephen had chosen the right spot from which to defend the town, for no matter how the enemy approached they would always be downhill from the king’s army.
When Stephen was a quarter of a mile or so out of the city two scouts came up the slope, riding fast. They spotted the king and went straight to him. William crowded closer to hear their report.
“The enemy is approaching fast, lord,” said one of the scouts.
William looked across the plain. Sure enough, he could see a black mass in the distance, moving slowly toward him: the enemy. He felt a shiver of fear. He shook himself, but the fear persisted. It would go when the fighting started.
King Stephen said: “What are their dispositions?”
