wanted to know the name of the man who fought so bravely. He told me it was Kauko. I took his name as a mark of respect."
Kauko stood up and stared at the skies.
"It's funny how the subject of respect keeps occurring isn't it?" he asked Thomas.
Thomas stood up with Kauko and pointed towards the sky.
"Before I came here, before I left my home, I saw the shooting star pass across the sky," said Thomas. "My father said it was a sign of bad times, a great evil. I guess he was right. He's always right."
"Why do you say that?" asked Kauko. "That the shooting star portends evil. Maybe it brought something good."
"Is that what you think?" asked Thomas.
"It's what I like to think," said Kauko, smiling.
"I hope you are right," said Thomas. "I like your view better."
Kauko placed a hand on the shoulder of Thomas.
"Get some sleep. We march again tomorrow," said Kauko. "Even if I have not yet passed your requirements for respect yet, you have mine, Thomas."
"You have mine too," said Thomas. "I relaxed the rules a little."
The next morning, Thomas was woken by the sound of men shouting. When he looked over to where the men were, he could see Kauko standing toe to toe with another man. At first, Thomas thought he should go and aid Kauko, but he quickly realised that a menial member of the Fyrd might well lose his life by having the impertinence to interfere with the affairs of the housecarls.
"He's a bloody Viking. Look at him. Look at his hair. He's called Kauko, for God's sake," shouted the man.
"If I were a Viking spy then I would have already killed you in your sleep, you fat oaf," said Kauko.
The man escaped the restraining grasp of his comrades and lurched towards Kauko, who squashed the man's nose with the back of his hand. The man fell to the floor and squealed. Kauko did not attempt to follow up the blow, instead choosing to turn and pick up a drink from the floor. Alfred appeared, pushing the men away and standing over the man on the floor.
"And what are you, a pig? Stop the squealing man and get up. Bloody mercenaries," said Alfred.
Alfred stood in front of the men and addressed them in a loud, authoritative voice.
"The only man allowed to call Kauko a Viking spy is me. That is because I do not mean it. It's a bloody joke. Is that clear or should we consult with the King on the matter?" he asked.
Some of the men mumbled in dissatisfaction and some of them laughed, but all of them knew that it was best not to argue with a Lord.
"Now pick the squealer up and get ready to march," said Alfred.
Alfred walked over to Kauko and shared a drink with him.
"What sort of bloody idiot calls himself by a foreign name?" asked Alfred.
"A big one?" asked Kauko.
Alfred laughed and threw his drink to the floor.
"Great backhand by the way," said Alfred, walking away.
Thomas ran to Kauko as the men dispersed.
"Do they all think you're a spy?" asked Thomas.
"Most of them," said Kauko.
Kauko looked around and saw that he and Thomas were more or less alone.
"Quick, come with me. I have something for you," said Kauko.
Thomas followed him to the place where Kauko had obviously slept at night. Kauko knelt by a large sheet and pulled a gleaming sword and a hauberk from underneath it. He gave them to Thomas who just stared at Kauko in silent gratitude.
"Wear the hauberk under your overcoat. We don't want the other housecarls asking where you got it. If they ask about the sword, tell them you found it in the woods where we buried the boy," said Kauko.
"In the woods?" asked Thomas.
"Yeah, that's not very good is it?" said Kauko. "Okay, tell them I found the sword in the woods and I gave it to you. If that doesn't shut them up, tell them to come and see me."
"That will work," said Thomas. "Thank you."
The march to Caldbec Hill proved to be a gruelling affair for Thomas. With every step that he took, his boots seemed to wear thinner, despite the fact that when he paused to check on their condition they seemed fine. Thomas came to the conclusion that it was his feet that were wearing out and not his shoes. It was not only Thomas who was finding the trek hard going, some of the older men seemed as though they had fought one campaign too many. Thomas would pass many of the older members of the Fyrd as they stopped to take off their boots and massage their feet. Once they had relieved the pain in their feet a little, they would run to catch up with their comrades, leaving themselves out of breath. Thomas wondered how this collection of tired men, housecarls and mercenaries could possibly win a battle. He could only hope that William's men were even more tired. The weight of the hauberk and the sword did not help Thomas in his movement, but he was aware that this was a small price to pay for such added protection. When they reached Caldbec Hill, they began the slow trudge to the top. The last thing any man wanted after a long march was a climb up to the top of the hill, but this was where the king intended to set up camp, and so the men gritted their teeth and slowly ascended the obstacle in front of them. Thomas reached the hill well before most of the men and took the chance to lie down on the soft grass and get his breath back. As he lay on his back, shielding his eyes from the sun, the shadow of a man stood over him.
"What kept you?" asked Kauko.
"My aching feet and burning lungs," said Thomas.
"Well, you'll be pleased to know that this is where we intend to stay and fight," said Kauko. "We'll set up the shield wall on the hill."
Thomas suddenly realised that he had no idea what to do when the battle began.
"What do I do?" asked Thomas.
"You have no shield, so you must stand behind the shield wall. When we move into formation, make sure that you stand behind me," said Kauko. "I will protect you as best I can, but make sure you make good use of that sword."
Thomas was confused, why would a man he barely knew be so interested in his welfare.
"Why do you want to help me?" asked Thomas.
"Perhaps you are more important than you know, Thomas," said Kauko.
"I'm not a King or a Lord. I'm no servant of God or a wealthy landowner," said Thomas.
"And if any of those things were important in this world, I would see your point, but such things do not matter," said Kauko. "It is the possibility of men or women to shape the future for the better that carries more weight."
"So, you think I am destined to become a Lord or maybe even king?" asked Thomas.
Kauko laughed and sat down on the grass next to Thomas.
"Do you ever listen to a word I say?" asked Kauko. "Forget Lords and Kings. Forget wealth and forget the excuse of carrying out God's will. Just remember who you are and what you believe."
"I don't know what I believe," said Thomas. "I don't believe in what we're doing here today and I don't believe in God. My mother would clip my ear when I told her so, but as much as I loved her, I think her beliefs are mistaken."
"Don't tell any of the men here that, Thomas. They are praying that God will save them," said Kauko. "I have more faith in my sword."
"I was listening to some of the men whilst we were marching," said Thomas. "They said that God wanted Harold to win. They say it's their destiny to win this battle. They say the shooting star was a sign."
Kauko shook his head and stared at the ground.
"Destiny and fate. How men grasp at such things. There is no such thing as fate or destiny. Each man's course can change in a second. An infinite number of possibilities await him, governed by chance and decision. All we can do is try to steer in the direction that we want to go," said Kauko.
"Is that what you're going to do in the battle?" asked Thomas. "Steer your ship?"
"No," said Kauko. "That's not why I am here. I am here to steer your ship."
Thomas leant on the grass with one elbow and stared at Kauko.
"Like I said, Thomas, you are more important than you think," said Kauko.
r /> "So, you're like my guardian Angel?" asked Thomas.
"There are no Angels, Thomas," said Kauko. "Even if there were, I doubt that I would be one."
The day was spent setting up camp as more men arrived in small groups. Thomas was instructed by the senior members of the Fyrd to help assemble the camp. It was a task that he did not mind at all. It was far easier than the boring march to Caldbec Hill had been. As night started to fall, some of the men split into small groups and began to pray. Thomas wondered what he should do. He certainly did not want to kneel before a God he did not believe in. He kept out of the way of the others and found himself a less crowded spot to sit, surrounded by boys of a similar age to him, who looked equally as indecisive. All Thomas wanted to do was return home. If he could have run away from all this, right now, he would have done, but he knew that he would probably not get far, and even if he did, the consequences for his family would not be welcome. He lay on his side and just hoped that he could survive the battle, regardless of the outcome, and return home.
As the moon rose in the sky, he could see the tall, blond haired man move to the edge of the hill. What is Kauko up to now, he thought? He got to his feet and made his way past the others on the hill, silently tracking the movement of Kauko. When Kauko stopped and kneeled, his head tilted towards the sky, Thomas stopped at a safe distance and observed his new friend. Kauko started to chant in a language that Thomas had never heard before. Perhaps, he really is a Viking, thought Thomas. What if he is here to avenge Harald Haraldsen's defeat? What if he is here to sabotage King Harold's defences and help William to win