I take it that we've fresh horses ready?" William asked with a look that required a positive answer, the only kind he would accept.

"Yes, sire. We've more than enough, but I'm not sure we have enough messengers to deliver them." Horace became flustered.

"Well then, the scribes will have to do the job. Go on-get to it, Horace. If you let me down, there will be trouble; do you understand?"

"Yes, sire," Horace, replied, but the monk seemed incapable of moving. He was firmly rooted to his seat with fear, and felt the warm trickle of urine flowing between his legs.

"Are you bloody deaf? Well-- go on then; get moving! I want your arse out of here. I've not got all sodding day!"

Horace rose awkwardly from his seat, his body unable to comfortably negotiate the table without him nearly falling to the floor. He managed to right himself, and then left the room, he made his way to the hall where the other scribes were working. Dropping what they were doing, they scrambled to copy the letters and send them off to those concerned.

"I think that's about all we can do for one day, Robert. You can go and make yourself comfortable in the stable. It's tidy enough, and I'll see you at first light. As for me, well I need to sleep.

"I'll bid you pleasant dreams then, William. While I'm here, might I ask where Walter Giffard is right now?

"Gambling again, Robert. Walter owes you money then. Any more gambling, and I'll have your arses skewered; now get out and let me sleep."

William awoke refreshed the next morning, and he looked out the window, feeling pleased with himself that he'd chosen Dives-sur-mer; it was an ideal embarkation point. The site was sheltered, with many coves and natural breakwaters, containing wharves that he'd had constructed to allow horses to be loaded aboard ship.

Outside, the camp was filling daily with men from all over the dukedom and beyond. They had begun arriving to receive their orders and to train for the battle that lay ahead.

"Soon, I'll have the money, the men, and the supplies. All I require now is the southern breeze and good weather for the crossing," he mumbled as he glanced up at Roger who had just entered the room. William grinned. It soon turned into a laugh; they both laughed.

On Friday, August 3rd, the weather was perfect. The breeze was from the west, and the day was warm. From the south, along the river, a group of small boats that contained Bishop Gilbert of Lisieux was sighted. He'd arrived back in Normandy from his long trip to Rome, on the duke's behalf.

Gilbert sat on the bow of the ship speaking his thoughts aloud to his companions.

"I'm glad to be back and with the required gold and banners. The duke had better be satisfied with my efforts, because he doesn't have a due about what we had to suffer on our journey. As you all know, this bloody trip was rarely without a mishap or ambush. Try telling the duke that pirates roamed the roads, and patrolled the waterways searching out victims. He doesn't give a rabbit's arse, as long as he gets money and the pope's blessing, bastardl I've brought him the bloody lot, including the pope's pledging his full support. If William only knew the promises I had to make to the bloody greedy toad!" Neither the duke nor the pope will keep any of the promises they made. There's no point in showing my disgust in the pope, nor the duke, if the truth is known. Each is as had as the other, he thought.

Gilbert and his retinue were, at last, able to disembark their boats. With the pope's banner held high, they mounted ponies that were brought specially from the stables, and they rode into Dives-sur-mer to a tumultuous greeting from the assembled townsfolk and William's forces. As they road toward the lodge, they were jostled and pushed. Gilbert almost fell off his horse with the milling crowds crushing around him, arms outstretched in order to touch the papal banner he held in his free hand.

A monk brought William the news of Gilbert's return, and the duke immediately mounted a horse and rode out to meet him. As he approached the milling crowd, he could see clearly the pope's banner.

Gilbert noticed the duke approaching and turned his horse in his direction.

"Welcome back, Gilbert, called William, loudly. He's a bloody dunce, and he'd better have what I'd sent him for, or else I'll kick his arse from here to Caen, he thought. Come; let's first talk. Then, if your news is good, we can eat, William said smiling, as they rode towards the main camp. They dismounted, and together, they entered the lodge.

"Be seated, Gilbert. I want the full story of the pope. I take it that he's backing us?" William asked with a half anxious look, as he put his feet up on the table.

"Oh yes," Gilbert replied confidently. "All the way, though he wants sixty percent of the share for his support."

"What! I thought as much," William replied pulling a face. "So, have we the money we need to pay the mercenaries?"

"Yes, we have it all, sire. The gold is being brought up now. It's being placed in the jewelry, ready for your inspection." Gilbert smiled with relief, and gave William the parchment with the pope's seal and blessing.

William gazed at the huge wax papal seal that was so very intricate. He was impressed and felt smug. England will soon be mine, and I'll be the richest man in Europe. William rubbed his hands with utter glee and delight.

"Well done, Gilbert. I'll see that you're well rewarded. If the pope's gold is all we've asked, it should last us well into England. I'll then strip the country to the bare bones. All assets will come back here, to Normandy. England today and tomorrow, the rest of France!" William once more began rubbing his hands in pure delight.

He's mad; he's bloody mad. They're all like sodding wolves, Godless bastards, to a man. Still, if it makes me rich, then I'll suck up as much as he likes. I still think he and his friends are lunatics, to take on Earl Harold. William's constant and incessant jabbering interrupted Gilbert's thoughts.

William removed his feet from the table and leaned forward in his chair. "I'm going to need controllers for the various Saxon earldoms, and the rewards will be substantial. Did you hear that, Gilbert? I said substantial." William rose to his feet and strolled around the room, touching bits of armor and caressing his mail suit. He gazed out the window at the sea. "I'm coming for my crown, Godwinson, and it won't be long before your head is looking down from my trophy wall," William said with a smug grin upon his face as he turned around to look in Gilbert's direction.

"I couldn't have a better tactician for a lord, sire," Gilbert said, his innate and inordinate sycophancy openly dripping from every pore in his body.

Not that William cared. He knew that everyone shared the same avaricious qualities. William spun round and their eyes met-- they understood each other well.

"Fitzscrob has been allocated some land. He's going to call it Fitzscropshire, and Odo wishes to have Kent. There'll be plenty to go around. You'll not miss out. You've served me well, and your reward is assured. Let's go and eat, and then we can inspect our gold," William said, grinning; then he gripped Gilbert's arm, pulling the bishop up from his seat and led him from the lodge to where an ox was being roasted over an open fire.

"Cut me some meat, boy," the duke demanded. William picked out a small crusty loaf, broke it in half and gave the other to Gilbert. The boy passed his master some thinly cut meat and offered the duke a goblet of wine. William was looking over the scene of men unpacking mules and tumbrils when he espied Roger Fitzscrob talking to his half brother, Odo.

"Roger!" William called. "I need to see all my officers for one last meeting before they embark for Saint- Valery. Go and see to it that they all come immediately. Go on; look lively, man!"

Roger waved his acknowledgement, and began calling the messengers to fetch the officers to muster.

William patted the servant-boy upon his head. "This is good fare, boy. Bring a little more inside on a platter, would you? Oh, and a barrel of ale and some flagons, too." The boy nodded. "Yes, at once, sire."

The two men reentered the lodge and seated themselves as before, and awaited his men.

As usual, William chaired the meeting. He was jolly and confident as he surveyed the men before him. "Well, gentlemen, it's good to see you've all managed to be here without problems of weather delaying your arrival. Oirr Lady Mary has been kind to us, and she smiles upon our venture, as demonstrated by the beautiful weather she sends to us. Please, be seated and drink some wine and take your fill from the platter before you, because we have much to discuss. First of all, I want to fill you all in as to the state of our preparations to-date."

William then called for a messenger boy. "Have the man called Philippe Domfront come here at once."

"Yes, sire," he said, and the boy then ran off to find Philippe.

The room fell into silence. William cleared his throat, sat down, and began to speak.

"As you all know, Gilbert has brought the best news. It means our preparations can proceed without hindrance. Now let's get to work on the details, shall we? We have fourteen thousand men here, and out of these, we have eight thousand that will do battle. The rest will have other duties, not least, the feeding and smithing of the cavalry horses." The duke turned his attention towards Montgomery. "Has the fort been dismantled, made ready and loaded?"

"It's been ready since Monday, sire," Montgomery replied.

"Good, then all we need is the wind to come around from the south, and we can take the high tide out to sea," William said, confidently. "Are there any questions?" William looked around the table at each man in turn. Robert-of-Eu, whose duty it was to coordinate the Dives area activities, asked to speak.

"If I might, William, what if the wind doesn't change? We're going to have a rough time keeping the troops from getting too unsettled. You know what these men are like. If the food runs low and the wine runs out, we're going to have trouble on our hands. There's been too much preparation for this well coordinated strategy, to allow things to be spoiled by the lack of a contingency plan, in coping with disturbances from disgruntled and idle men." Robert gazed about the room. "I think I ought to tell you all just what has gone into this venture." Robert looked at his master for consent to relay the intricately involved details.

William nodded his approval. "Go on, Robert. You're not going to shut up until you've told us what a clever shit you are. We've nowhere to go until the wind changes, so go ahead."

Robert preened, then continued, "Well, I had the scribes set to work on the figures so that we could quantify what was needed and the cost. It comes to a goodly total; I can tell you. We have ten men to a tent, and that comes to one thousand four hundred tents. This meant that thirty-six thousand calves had to be killed to make the hides for the tents. So, that provided for the feeding of the men. We had three thousand horses, all in need of shoeing. That came to twelve thousand new horseshoes! Seventy-five thousand nails in eighteen barrels of iron had to be shipped. I can't find the figures for the blacksmiths that worked on this lot, but they were more numerous than flies around a turd." Looks of admiration and some disbelief were on the faces of the men at the table.

Robert sneezed, then continued, "We had five thousand cartloads of horse manure to dispose of, and the horse piss alone would fill something like seven hundred and fifty thousand ale barrels. Some of you might have noticed the channel we had dug to drain it all off, so as we would not be inundated with the stuff. Now the food for the men and hay for the horses are soon to run out. That's going to create a major logistical problem for us.

Getting to Saint- Valery is not easy for a fleet such as this, either. It's a full one hundred and sixty miles around our coastline. We may lose some ships, men, and horses. I'm just stating the facts, sire. A lot of hard work has gone into bringing these things together."

"Yes, yes, we get the general idea, Robert. You don't have to belabor the point," William interrupted in a hurry to get on with the proceedings.

"Do you think we ought to disperse some of the ships to other ports, William?" Philippe- of-Main asked. "Godwinson may decide on a pre-emptive strike, and attack us in our ports. I feel it would be a good idea to move them."

William nodded, noting his concern. "This is underway, Philippe; rest assured. The plan is to disperse Harold's fyrd along the south coast. In any case, they have the harvest to bring in, and his men must return from their duties, or they will lose the harvest. This is the time when we will gain our beachhead. Oirr opposition will be much less at this time of the year. As for the food supply for the men, I will have more brought in as of tomorrow. Anyone caught ravaging Norman villages for food will be hanged; is that clear?" William looked around the room. A nodding and mumbling came from the men aroimd the table.

William Fitzosbern looked flushed.

"Have you got a problem, Fitz?" William asked.

"It's the food I've been eating. I'm not used to it, sire. Could I be excused from the meeting? I have a real need to lose my insides."

Everyone in the room began chuckling.

"Need to rush; do we?" Odo said, sporting a huge grin upon his face. "He's had the shits all morning, William. I can't think why, though; he's eaten the same as we have."

The room bellowed into riotous laughter as Fitzosbern rushed outside to empty his bowels. As he made his hurried exit, a messenger entered the lodge and brought news that the wind had veered, coming from the south.

The duke's face lit up. He rose to his feet and smartly clapped his hands together.

"Right!" William said, grinning. "We'll all meet at Saint-Valery tomorrow. Go and gather your men, and God speed our enterprise." The assembled men rose to their feet. Each, in turn, gripped William's arm before leaving the room to muster their troops.

William could hardly contain his excitement, and spontaneously burst into song.

"Harold-- I'm coming to get you. I'm coming to get you. Be prepared to die. I'm coming to get you. I'm coming to get you. I'll punch you right in the eye."

Philippe Domfront stood in the doorway, waiting to be ushered inside.

"Ah, Domfront, I have a task for you." William passed him the papal parchment. "I'd like you to read this message for me. Can you do that?"

Philippe perused the scroll for a moment, then read aloud the contents.

"What they told me about you was correct. They say that you and your brother are intelligent, and honest, too. That's a rare thing. Intelligent men are not to be trusted, Domfront. I keep a close eye on such men. I want to know your story and how you came into my service." William sat patiently, listening to every word of Philippe's tale. "You have every reason to kill me... why do you not do so?"

Phillippe stared into the eyes of a man he knew to be fierce, yet he saw a man with a family, a man who was loved and loving in retirrn-- faithful to his wife, yet ruthless when needed. "My village was destroyed by your men, and my family lost everything that we worked for, and for that alone, I should hate you. I see that you despise men of learning, yet you can't do without such men, sire. As for myself, I bear no grudge. You do what you must to maintain law and order, sometimes at the expense of the innocent. I'm able to understand the way you rule; otherwise, there is anarchy, and no rule of law."

"You're a good man, Philippe Domfront. I'll see to it that your family will be supported. I live amongst men who would have me killed at a glance, given the opportunity, and some of them are closer to me that you could imagine. Strangely enough, such men are useful to me. If you're as honest as men say you are, and faithful to me, you'll be handsomely rewarded."

Philippe looked startled. He'd never been spoken to in this manner before, and most certainly not by the duke, himself. "I'll do my duty, sire. My brother, Alan, will do so, too. He's a good man."

"Get to your duties, Philippe, and remember what I have said. I'll soon be sitting upon the throne of England. Good men can earn great rewards for loyalty. You may now leave."

Philippe turned about and left the room. Outside, he gazed about the scene before him. He felt perplexed. He didn't understand; he wasn't sure if he were supposed to. I just do my job, he thought.

A bugle called out, and a cry of "Come to Muster, Come to Muster", was heard. The troops that were milling about readied themselves to embark with the armada sailing to St-Valery. The southerly breeze was strong and fresh. There was a slight swell, but it wasn't too high and didn't appear to frighten the horses as they boarded the vessels. At last, they were on their way to St-Valery. From there, they would sail, when ready, to England.

Odo was looking across the meadow, when he noticed the man he was searching for, and he called a boy to bring Eustace to him.

Eustace slowly made his way down the gentle slope towards Odo, unaware of what the bishop was going to propose to him. One of these days, he thought, I'm going to give that fat, lazy bastard a piece of my mind. It's as if he thinks that I've nothing better to do, and today of all days.

"Eustace, can you spare a moment? I really need to speak with you on a matter that is close to my heart."

"Yes, of course, Odo, what is it that you want of me?" Eustace asked.

Odo led Eustace along a pathway toward some undergrowth, out of sight and earshot of any living being. Odo sat on the soft, warm grass, and beckoned Eustace to do likewise. His eyes darted here and there, insuring their solitude. He brought from imder his tunic a parchment, which he held tightly, leaned close to Eustace, and began to speak quietly.

"I have a feeling that my half-brother, William, will not sirrvive this coming battle with the Godwinson family. Now if that happens and we gain a victory, we need to establish a rule over the defeated English. I aim to be that man. I've planned for such an eventuality and wish you to be privy, because you feature heavily in it."

"For God's sake, Odo, who else knows of your plan?" The stunned face of Eustace turned white as the blood drained from his head. Odo's mad, he thought; he's fucking insane.

"For the moment, only you; all I want to know is... are you with me?"

Eustace gazed out to sea, his hands wringing. He was tense with abject fear. "You've told me nothing yet, Odo. So how can I give you an answer? If I said yes, what would be in it for me?" Eustace asked as he scooted even closer to Odo.

"I would give you Normandy, to do with it as you wish. You'd be my vassal, of course, but to all intents and purposes, you would be as a king, in all but name. I would collect half of all revenues, the rest being yours. We would protect each other, and eventually, I would, with your help, take Rome and the Papal seat. Then and only then, you would become king of Normandy in your own right. Together, we could then capture France and build an empire. Now, are you with me?" Odo asked, banking heavily on Eustace's greed and dislike of William, and was fully aware of his dishonorable qualities.

"But only if William is killed. Are you planning to see to it that he doesn't survive? That obviously means killing him ourselves; doesn't it?" Eustace was beginning to be not quite sure of his abilities.

"If you want to put it that way -- ^yes," Odo replied, trying to suppress a smirk.

Eustace looked deeply into Odo's eyes. Both men knew that if they were to become as Odo wished, and Eustace aspired, they had to be sure that the men they had in their charge were willing to follow them. "You know that I don't have the backing or the men for such a venture."

"I've loyal men guarding the jewelry. The moment I give the order, we'll use the gold to take the lands we require, to control the territory needed, and to follow through with the rest of my plan. The only pigs in the sty are William's guard. They are loyal and strong. They'll only take orders from us if he's dead. He has to be very dead; do you understand?"

Eustace hesitated. He could see flaws everywhere, but it was too late. Odo had revealed his hand. I could use what he's just told me to my own advantage, Eustace thought. "Now, look here, Odo-- this plan is all in the lap of the gods; you know that. William will not go into the thick of the battle until he's sure there's no danger to himself; he's not dumb."

"My brother, sorry, half brother, has made many enemies during his ducal incumbency. Some are in the rear guard and would be willing, in the heat of battle, to see to his demise. I don't see too much trouble on that score."

"William doesn't trust me, Odo. You know that. How could I be of use under such circumstances? It would be impossible for me to actively participate without being detected, surely?"

Odo placed his hand on Eustace's shoulder, and with the other, showed Eustace the parchment with William's seal upon it. "Are you aware that William is illiterate?"

"Well, no, I didn't. Is William really illiterate?" Eustace looked surprised.

"It's not generally known outside of the most immediate family. Only one other person knows... Walter Giffard. He'll have to be eliminated, too. He's dangerous and would be against our little venture. He would make sure that Matilda would be queen. No, if my plan is to succeed, we can't take any chances." Odo shook his head, waving the document in front of him.

"For God's sake, Odo, what's written?"

"William names 'me' as his heir. His mark and seal is upon this parchment. It's witnessed by Matilda and the pope, too." Odo grinned broadly, smugness written across his face and a great sparkle of self-satisfaction emanating from his eyes.

"Matilda and the pope! How the hell did you manage that?" Eustace looked stunned.

Eustace couldn't believe his ears. Is Odo attempting to implicate me in a plan that might not even work? If I inform William, Odo will he executed on the spot. It'll mean a great reward for me, too.

Odo was looking confident and smug. "Ask me no questions, and you will get no lies. Suffice to say, the pope, fool that he is, is willing to support me, as long as the church in England comes back to the fold under his full control. Matilda neither reads nor writes, but can make her mark, as can William. It was like taking eggs from hens, really. The ducal archives must have a copy of every deed made, placed there; it's normal procedure. William thought it a copy of a deed gift for Caen Abbey to the pope." Odo smiled with pride at his deviousness, and the utter smugness took even Eustace by surprise.

"Bloody hell! You took a chance. William can only die after the victory or close to an absolute rout of Harold's forces, or the men will just fall back and disperse as best they can; even I can see that."

"I have crossbowmen in my personal retinue who are loyal only to me. They will do what is required. In any case, I have their families as hostages, so if they fail, they will lose all. They'll do as they are told." Odo wiped his face of the sweat that began to drip off his brow.

"There is something you have not asked of me. How do you know that you can trust me not to betray you?" Eustace began to feel uncomfortable.

Odo stared at Eustace with a stern eye. His mouth was tense and his body taut. A dragonfly buzzed his face. In irritation, his hands swiped at and caught it. It's about time I made my move, Odo thought. He proceeded, slowly, to pull the legs off the unfortunate insect. Tossing the carcass aside, he bent low, their noses now a thirmb's thickness apart.

"You've no love for William, nor does he have any for you. If we gain a victory, and when your usefulness is over, you'll be discarded. Only those close to him will gain anything from this. The cost to you will never be recovered. You're not of the inner circle, Eustace." Odo rose to his feet and turned away to look at the gulls screeching behind him, their fighting annoying his sensibilities. He seated himself upon the grass, facing the birds, and collected his thoughts.

Eustace said nothing for a moment, but felt he ought to refute Odo's logic. "This is true, but you're assuming a great deal."

Odo swiveled his head as quickly as a dog snapping at his prey and abruptly spat out his words, the tension between them making the hairs on his neck stiff.

"Do you think I don't know my own brother? We are nothing to him. If you think that he has feelings for anyone other than those most loyal to him, then you should think again. I can count on the fingers of my hands the men here who will benefit from this outcome. If I'm lucky, I may just be one of them and only then because I have the ear of the pope. Family to

William means little or nothing, except for Matilda and Robert. We're just tools to be used and then discarded when finished. Do you understand, Eustace... hmm?"

"If what you say is true, and I'm sure it is, then there must be a contingency plan or we'll lose everything." Eustace moved to sit against a tree, his head in his hands. After some time, he looked up at Odo. "No, the risk is too great. If William is to die in battle, I will support you. But I won't risk an attempt at assassination that, if it fails, will destroy us both. The retribution would be my innocent family wiped off the face of the earth. We'd lose everything, and for nothing! I'm prepared to stay close to him during the battle, and if he falls wounded, to finish him off. That's all I am prepared to do." Eustace wrung his fingers, his nails cutting into the palms of his hands, his head bowed, as the fear of a potentially discovered mutiny gripped him.

"So be it, Eustace. Am I the only one here with any balls to see this plan through? The will, for the time being, shall be postponed. I shall hide it until such time as it can be of use. By the way, there is something I didn't tell you. I have, of course, to protect my back. I felt the need to make another copy of the will in a modified form. You recall you gained your lands fiom William some years back. I was not a witness to your deed. I made a copy for the ducal records, as is the rule. I made another copy, one that William and Matilda have witnessed. They were none the wiser as to what was written. It's naming you as William's heir. It would be a pity, if imder the circumstances, this fell into the hands of either William or Matilda. So, my friend, my insurance of your silence is guaranteed."

Odo turned his back for a moment and gazed once more out to sea. He sniffed the air, and ran his fingers through what hair he had left on the side of his head.

Eustace sat motionless and stunned, trying desperately to collect his thoughts. Fuck! He's got me by the bollocks, he thought. "I understand your motives, Odo. I guess that you have my support then. None of this is a forgone conclusion. You speak as if we'll win this battle. Have you forgotten? Harold commands a vast and able force. If we lose, and there's nothing to say that we'll win, what then?"

"If we lose and William is killed, we will ask for terms. It's as simple as that."

"Ask for terms!" Eustace hissed. "What terms can you ask of a man who has seen his country invaded, his lands and people defiled? You expect too much if you think Harold will see you safely home with a pat on the back; telling you, it's not the done thing, old man. Do you expect that he'll be sending you off home with a note to your mother, saying that you have been a naughty boy, and a warning that you shouldn't do it again? If that's what you think, then you live in a world of dreams, Odo." Eustace gave an audible sigh. That confirms it. I now know that he's fucking mad, he thought.

"I'll take my chances with Harold. You don't know him; I do. He's a fair man; he knows William and his ways. He imderstands that we're here unwillingly; he's a pragmatist. His temperament is good, and he's always willing to listen to good argument, even when he comes from a position of strength."

Eustace rose to his feet. Leaning on a low branch, he stared into Odo's grinning face.

"We should allow nature to take its course. Come, Eustace, we'd better become visible once more, or we'll be missed, and it'll throw suspicion our way. If anyone asks, you've been for a shit, is that clear?"

"I guess so," Eustace, replied as he patted Odo on the back and shook his hand. Why am I doing this? The Lord will have my arse for this decision.

The two men parted and went their separate ways. Odo strolled off to join William, and Eustace to see to his horses.