William needed to be buried as soon as possible.
To Eric's surprise, though the villages surrounding Rouen had been pillaged and burned by the King of France's army, Rouen City itself was relatively peaceful. Its citizens had held out to the end for their merciful and magnanimous ruler, for the glory of Normandy, and for the autonomy Robert had promised them.
From the high towers of Rouen Cathedral, the bells tolled, low and resonant. They rang for the great Conqueror, who now lay in a lead coffin beside the tomb that would preserve his remains until the end of the world.
It was a moment that called for sorrow, yet few shed any tears.
The aged Archbishop of Canterbury, Lanfrank—Conqueror William's mentor and dear friend—stared at the open lead coffin and the waxy face of the man he had served for so many years. He let out a long breath.
The ordeal was almost over. Beneath the sorrow, he felt a wave of relief, as if a great weight was about to be lifted from his shoulders.
