Selred smiled and shook his head at Erling when we went back to
him, but I could see that he thought no less of the Dane for
standing by me. Nor did I, as may be supposed, but I had rather his
safety was somewhat more off my mind than it was likely to be here.
As he had returned for care of me, it would seem that we were each
pretty anxious about the other; but there was no use in showing it.
Now the thanes who had the morning watch to keep came in, fresh and
gay, with words of good morrow, and stayed suddenly and stared at
us, for we three strangers had the council chamber to ourselves.
"Where are Witred and his fellows?" one asked me.
I thought the best thing was to tell them the truth, and I told all
the tale of the night's doings in as few words as I could, and at
the end said that offence having been given to Quendritha, it had
seemed safest for those of whom he spoke to get out of her way for
a while. Whereat the thanes made no denial, but seemed to agree
that it was the best way for all concerned.
"This thing will be known all over the place in an hour or so," one
said. "What will you yourself do?"
"I stay here to search for the body of the Anglian king, and for
aught else I may do to help the chaplain here, and the ladies of
the Thetford party."
Then Selred went into the inner chamber and gathered to him the
little crown of the king, and one or two more things which were of
value because of him who had worn them, and said that he would
bestow them in the church until they might be taken back to his
mother in Norfolk. I took his arms, and the sword we had found in
the pit, for Sighard had brought that up from thence. And so we
three went down the hall, none paying much heed to us, and into the
church.
It was strange to see the gay bustle of the place going on with all
manner of preparations for the wedding that should never be, and
yet to say naught to stay it all. That was not our business.
Selred found the sacristan in the church, for it was the hour of
matins, and between them they set what we had brought in the ambry
which was built in the chancel wall. I do not know if Selred told
the man why they were to be kept there. Then came Offa's two
chaplains, and the bell rang for the service; and it was good to
kneel and take part therein, while outside the quiet church the
noise of the great palace went on unceasingly, as the noise of a
waking camp. Beside me knelt Erling the heathen, quiet and
attentive.
Somewhere about the midst of the service it seemed to grow very
still all about us of a sudden. Then there were the sounds of many
men running past the door, and a dull murmur as of voices of a
crowd. The news of the deed of the night had been set going, and it
was passing from man to man; and each went to the hall to learn
more, for presently none were sure which king had been slain, and
then many thought that it was Offa. Before the service was ended he
had to show himself, and at the sight of him a great roar of joy
went up, and men were at ease once more--concerning him at least.
When the little service was over I went to the church door and
looked out on the courtyard; and the whole place swarmed with folk,
for work had been stayed by the news, and none knew what was to be
done next. If one could judge from the looks of those who spoke to
one another, there were some strange tales afloat already. Some
recognized me, and doffed their caps; but it was plain that they
had no thought that I had been so nearly concerned in the matter,
and I was the easier, therefore. And while we watched them Selred
came to us.
"Now I am going to try to see our poor ladies," he said. "We must
learn what they will do, for if they will go homeward, we are the
only men who can ride with them. I know that you would fain go
home, but I will ask you to help me in this. Indeed, it is a work
of charity."
"Of course I will, father," I answered; "I am at your service and
theirs, till you need me no longer. My folk do not so much as know
that I am likely to be in England, let alone on my way to them."
"Why, then, your homecoming will be none the less joyful for you,
good friend. But I pray you have a care of yourselves, both of you,
awhile."
Now we went back through the church, and so passed into our lodging
by the door which was between the two parts of the building of
which I have spoken already. The priest had somewhat to take with
him, book or beads or the like, and I would fain rest awhile after
that night of terrible unrest.
"Go to breakfast in the hall," said Selred, "and there I will come
to you."
It was somewhat dark in the outer room, and darker yet in the
little chambers. Selred had to grope awhile before he found what he
wanted; then Erling opened the outer door for him, and he went his
way, and I would have the door left open after him for more light.
Then I went to my own chamber, sliding back its door and speaking
to Erling at the same time, so that I had my head a little turned
aside. Whereby, before I had time to hear more than a sudden
scuffle within the dark chamber, out of it leaped a man upon me,
sending me spinning against the opposite wall with a blow on the
chest which took the breath from me for the moment, and then
smiting Erling with a sort of back-handed blow as he passed him;
but the Dane saw him in time, and set out his foot, and the man
fell headlong over it. His head struck the doorpost with a great
thud, and there he lay motionless, while something flew from his
hand across the floor, rattling as it went. It was the hilt of a
knife of some sort.
Erling shut the outer door in haste, and then helped me to rise,
asking me if I were hurt.
"No," I answered. "Ho, but what is that?"
Out of my tunic as I straightened myself there fell a gleaming
blade, and I picked it up. It was half of a Welsh knife, keen and
pointed, which had broken on my mail shirt, leaving only a long
slit in my tunic, and maybe a black bruise to come presently on the
skin where the dint fell.
"I owe life to you, Erling," I said. "And I laughed at the thought
of wearing the mail, and well-nigh did not put it on. But he smote
you; has he harmed you?"
"The mail saved me also," he said, "for the knife broke on it;
otherwise--No, master, I am not hurt; not so much as a cut tunic. I
wonder if there are more of this sort in these dens?"
I drew my sword, and we looked cautiously into the chamber, and
then into Sighard's, but there was no one there. This man had been
alone, and he had fared badly. He lay yet as he had fallen,
breathing heavily.
"This means that Quendritha is after us," said Erling. "Our old saw
is true enough when it says, 'Look to the door or ever you pass
it;' and that we shall have to do for a while. Now I have a mind to
tie this man up for a day or two; we have a spare chamber for him."
"Do so," I said. "Then we will pass out through the church, and
Quendritha will think that he waits us here yet, and we shall be
the safer."
So we bound him and set him, still senseless, in the empty chamber
of Sighard, making fast the door with the broken dagger so that,
even if presently the man worked his bonds loose, he could not get
to Quendritha to say that he had failed. Then I made Erling don a
buff coat of Sighard's, good enough to turn most blows. He might
need it if this went on.
"It is in my mind," said I when this was done, "that a crowd is the
safest place for us just now. Let us go and see how matters fare at
the stables. It is time that the horses came back from the water."
We passed through the church and went stable-wards, among all the
idle and half-terrified thralls and servants; and when we came to
the long stables with their scores of stalls, there was talk and
wonderment enough among the grooms. Gymbert was nowhere to be
found, and the other thane, who took his place and gave the orders
when he was busy, had gone out with his horses, and had fled with
the Anglians, it was said. None seemed surprised that they should
have gone hastily, but the going of the king's horse thane was a
wonder.
However, all that was good hearing to us, and I went to see what
horses had returned. It was plain that Witred's plan had worked
well, for only those which the ladies had ridden, the pack horses,
and our own had been brought back. The young king's steeds were
both in the stable where Offa's own white chargers were kept.
Somewhat late the breakfast call sounded, and I went back to the
hall, not by any means wishing to seem put out by the flight of the
Anglian party, as Carl's messenger. Erling sat where I could see
him, below the salt; and I went to my own place on the dais, as
before. There were not many thanes present at first, and Offa never
appeared at all; and the meal was silent, and carelessly ordered,
for the whole course of the great household had been set awry by
the word of heavy rumour which had flown from man to man.
As the time went on a few more thanes came in and sat them down
with few words, and those curt, and mostly of question as to where
such and such a friend was. And soon it grew plain that man by man
the guests of Offa were leaving him and the palace.
Maybe that was mostly because there had come an end of that for
which they had gathered, but there were words spoken which told me
that many who might have stayed left because of the shame of the
deed which had been wrought. The great name of Offa was no cloak
for that. Few spoke to me as I sat and ate, though many seemed as
if they would like to do so but were ashamed. Those who did speak
were only anxious to tell me that their king was surely blameless;
that it was some private matter of feud--surely some Welsh
treachery or the like; but no man so much as named Quendritha,
whether in blame or in excuse.
Presently there came up the hall quietly one of the young thanes,
boys of fifteen or less, who were pages to the king and queen; and
he sat himself down not far from me below the high place, where
they had their seats. I noticed him because he was the only one of
the half-dozen or so who came to that breakfast at all, and also
because he seemed to look somewhat carefully at me. As I still wore
my Frankish dress I was used to that, and only smiled at him, and
nodded a good morrow.
Presently two men near me rose and went, and as they did so the boy
rose also, and taking a loaf from his table handed it to me
gravely.
"Paladin," he said, "I think you need this."
He was a little below me, of course, and I bent to take it. He had
both hands to the loaf, and with one he gave me it, and from the
other dropped something small into my palm at the same time, so
that the bread covered it there. I thanked the lad, and while he
watched me eagerly, looked at that which he had hidden in my hand.
It was that little arrowhead which I had given Hilda, and which I
had bidden her send me if she was in danger or in anywise sought my
help.
Somehow I kept my countenance when I saw that. I suppose it was
because I knew that the need must be great when Hilda sent the
token, and that no doubt the queen had her spies everywhere on me;
but what thoughts went through my mind I can hardly set down. Fear
for Hilda in ways that I could not fathom, and wonder as to how I
was to help her, were the uppermost. I halved the loaf with my
dagger, and handed the half back to the boy, who came close to the
edge of the dais again for it.
"In the church, presently," I said to him, and he nodded.
I thought he might have some message also from her who gave the
token.
Then I made myself bide a little longer, and it was hard work. As
soon as I might I went out, Erling following me, and turned into
the church. There I waited impatiently, with my eyes on the door of
the great hall, in the porch, and at last I saw the page come out
as it were idly, and turn toward me. Then a man came up to him and
spoke to him, and the boy seemed eager to get away. At last he
glanced toward me, and went away with the man, passing the door of
the church, and turning toward the rearward buildings. I had little
doubt that he was purposely being prevented from having more words
with me.
That troubled me more than enough, as may be supposed, for what the
need of Hilda might be I could not tell. And what I should have
done next I can hardly say, for I was beginning to think of going
and asking to see her; so that it was as well that as I stood in
the deep porch I turned at the sound of hasty footsteps, and saw
Selred coming to me from out of the building. He had passed through
our lodging to the church as he had gone. His look was grave and
full of care, but not more than it had shown before he left us.
"I have seen none of the ladies," he said. "The palace is in a
turmoil, and Offa has shut himself up, seeing but one or two of his
thanes, in grief for what has been done, as men say, and as may be
hoped. Nor will Quendritha see any one, or let her attendants pass
from her bower and its precincts."
"Father," I said, "I have had a token from the Lady Hilda to say
that she is in sore need of help."
And with that I told him of our talk yesterday in the little wood,
and of the coming of the page to me.
"I do not know what this may mean," he said gravely. "They say that
the poor Princess Etheldrida is overborne with grief, so that they
fear for her life. I thought that Hilda was with her; but this
would suggest that she is not. Yet all the ladies of the court are
within the bower."
Now there was a stir round the great gates, and a little train of
clergy came through them, with a few lay brothers, who led mules
laden with packs, after them. The whole party were dusty and
wearied, as if they had come from far on foot; and indeed only one
of all the dozen or so was mounted, and that was a man who rode,
cloaked and hooded, in their midst on a tall mule. Before him the
weariest looking of all the brothers carried a tall brazen cross.
"The archbishop," said Selred. "He has not turned back, or maybe
the news has not yet reached him."
This was Ealdwulf, the Mercian Archbishop of Lichfield, and he had
come for the wedding from his own place. He was a close friend of
the king, who indeed had wished that Mercia should not be second to
any realm, and had so wrought that an archbishop's see had been
made for him, subject to neither Canterbury nor York. I suppose
that somewhere men had been on the watch for him, for now came the
clergy of the palace to meet him, two by two, with the chaplain of
the king at their head.
They came and bent before him, and he blessed them with uplifted
hand; and then I think that the first word of what had befallen was
told to him, for as the chaplain rose and spoke to him the
archbishop started somewhat and knit his brows. Nor did he offer to
dismount as yet, but sat on his mule, seeming to question those
before him, while his clergy gathered round him as close as they
dared, listening. The men who had been hurrying about the courtyard
had stayed their footsteps, and there was a strange silence while
the bad news was told.
Presently the chaplain looked round and spied us, and at once came
toward the church porch and said that the archbishop would fain
speak with us.
So together we went across the court, and with me came Erling. Like
us, he bent for the blessing of the archbishop's greeting, and then
we had to tell what we knew of the end of Ethelbert. Ealdwulf would
have it from us, as we were of the train of the young king. And
when we had told all in few words, he said:
"I bide in this house no longer. Not until the day when King Offa
will send for me will I stand here again, save for sterner reproof
than I may give to any while one doubt remains as to who wrought
this deed. Mayhap you men deem that you have reason to blame a
certain one; but I need surety. Now, I lay it on you that you
search for the body of your king; and when it is found, bring him
to me at Fernlea, where I will abide. It is not fitting that these
walls should hold him again."
And then, taking that brazen cross of his into his hand as token of
his office, there, in the open court for all to hear, he laid such
a ban on the one whose mind had contrived and on those whose hands
had wrought this murder that I may not set it down here. But I
thought that none who had any part in it could live much longer
thereafter.
So he turned his mule and went away, leaving men staring aghast at
one another behind him.
Selred and I followed him beyond the gate, watching how he rode
with bent head, wearily, by reason of the trouble which had come to
him, for he had loved the young king well, as men told us. And
after he had passed out of sight I said that I had hoped for help
for Hilda from him.
"Quendritha would not have seen him," said Selred. "I do not know
what he could have done. Courage, Wilfrid! for all this is but a
matter of last night, and even now the day is young. Get to horse,
and do as he bade you; and presently, when you return, I may have
news for you."
Loath enough I was to leave the palace, but yet there did not seem
much use in loitering about here. I should not see Hilda, and
Selred would be more likely to learn what was amiss than I. He
said, also, that if he heard of any danger to her he would seek the
king straightway, and demand speech with him on urgent business, so
that he should see matters righted. And then a thought came to him,
for I told him of the man whom we had bound in the empty chamber.
"My son," he said, "it were better that you were out of this place.
Neither you nor Erling nor myself will dare sleep in peace tonight
if such deeds are still planned. Listen. Arm yourselves, and go on
your search. Take your horses with you, and presently follow the
archbishop to Fernlea for the night. It will be thought that you
have fled also. Let the man go to tell his tale, and it will seem
certain that you have done so, in fear of what may happen. Then be
in that little cover where we spoke with the king and Hilda tonight
at the same time, and there I will come to you and tell you all I
know."
"That is good advice, father," said Erling. "Well I know what holds
the thane here, but he can do naught.
"Master, if yon thrall is come to himself, we will speak words
which he will take to his mistress, and then we shall have time
before us. He shall think that we have fled eastward with the
rest."
Not anywise willingly, but as it were of our need, I knew that
these two friends of mine spoke rightly; so we left the good father
and went back to our lodging, there to gather what few things we
would take with us. I had no thought that we should return to this
ill-omened place.
In Sighard's chamber we heard the man shifting himself and
muttering; and as those sounds stilled as we entered, we knew that
he had come to himself, and that he was most likely trying to free
himself from his bonds.
"This is no place for us, master," said Erling pretty loudly; "it
is as well that we go while we may. Presently the road to the
eastward may be blocked against us."
The man was very still, listening, as we thought.
"The sooner the better," I answered. "One might put thirty miles
between here and ourselves before noontide. I have no mind to ride
through Worcester town, and we must pass that either to north or
south. Then we were safe enough."
Now the man shifted somewhat, and we heard him.
"That thrall lives yet," said Erling. "He listens."
With that he grinned at me and went to the door, drawing the knife
blade from it, and sliding it back so that the dim light filled the
chamber. As he went in the man was still, and seemingly insensible,
as we had left him; and Erling bent over him, as if to listen to
his breathing. Then he rose and came out, sliding the door
carelessly to behind him. We had no need to keep the man now. It
was plain to the Dane that he was waking enough.
He nodded to me as he returned, as if to say that all went well,
but aloud he said that the man was still enough. Then we armed
ourselves fully, donning mail shirt and steel helm, sword and seax
and spear for myself; and leathern jack and iron-bound leathern
helm, sword and seax, and bow and quiver for Erling--each of us
taking our round shields on our shoulders, over the horsemen's
cloaks we wore. None would think much of our going thus, for so a
thane and his housecarl may be expected to ride in time when there
is trouble about, more especially if there are but the two of them.
As we armed we spoke more yet of flight, and haste, and so on, till
the thrall must have deemed that he knew all our plans.
We had little more than our arms that we would take. All that
bright holiday gear I had bought in Norwich and Thetford, first
against my home going, and then for this wedding that was to be, I
left behind, taking only, in the little pack which Erling would
carry behind his saddle, what linen one may need on a journey, and
fastening my little store of jewels about me under my mail. Little
enough there was, in truth; but what I had was from Ecgbert or
Carl, with one little East Anglian brooch, set with garnets, from
the lost king himself, and these I would not lose.
Money I had in plenty for all needs and more, as may be expected of
a warrior who has seen success with Carl. Mostly that was in rings
and chains of gold, easily carried and hidden, for a link of one of
which I could anywhere get value in silver coin enough to carry us
on for a fortnight or more.
Then we went round to the stables, leaving the place by the door
away from the church, not minding who saw us go out. We had no
doubt at all that word would go to Quendritha that we were unhurt
and away so soon as we were seen to come thence; whereon she would
send to seek her man.
"I would your steed was not quite so easily known," growled Erling
to me as we crossed the open garth round the palace and entered
what I call the street of small buildings which went toward the
rear gate. "He will be easily heard of."
"When they find that we have not gone to the one side of Worcester,
therefore, they will try the other," I answered; "that is, if any
take the trouble to follow us, which I doubt."
"I doubt not at all concerning that," said Erling grimly. "Too well
I ken the ways of Quendritha. Neither you nor I who know the truth
of her sending to this land may be suffered to tell that tale, if
she can prevent it."
The great skew-bald whinnied as I came to him, glad to see that I
meant to take him out across the open country, and the grooms came
in haste to see what I needed. And as they saddled the two horses,
Erling was watching all they did, and had his eye on the doorway
from time to time. But here it was peaceful enough, for the first
turmoil of the morning had passed, and there were none but a few of
the grooms about. There was no man to ask us aught, and we mounted
quietly, without seeming to find much notice from any.
Now, as I have said, the rear gate of the palace enclosure led
toward Mercia, and we rode straight out of it, and away down the
road, grass grown and little cared for, which the Romans had once
made and paved for the march of their legions. At first we went in
leisurely wise, and then before we were fairly out of sight from
the gate spurred away in haste. And so we rode for two miles or so,
into the heart of the woodland country, where the road became a
mere track midway in the crest of its wide embankment. Then we drew
rein and took counsel as to whither next.
"Master," said Erling as we stayed, "did you see a man staring at
us from out of a stable across the road as we started?"
"Ay. But I did not heed him; he was only one of the thralls."
"So he looked; but if that was not Gymbert, I am sorely blind
today. Moreover, I looked back as we passed the gate, as if one of
the guard spoke to me. The man was hastening toward our lodging.
And he walked like Gymbert. Many a man can disguise his face; but,
after all, his back and gait betray him."
Now if this was indeed Gymbert whom Erling had seen, it was plain
that he waited about the palace precincts for speech with his
mistress, or for some fresh orders, and I did not by any means like
it. However, when I came to turn the matter over in my mind, I
thought that after all, whether inside the palace garth or out, he
would not be far from the call of Quendritha, so that maybe it did
not so much matter. At all events, what I would do would be to bide
as near to the place as I might without being known, and be content
to hear from Selred that at least naught was wrong.
Troubled enough I was in my mind at this time in all truth. For it
lay heavily on me that I had promised the poor queen away in
Thetford that I would watch her loved son and if need be die with
him, and I had lost him and yet lived. I know now that I had no
real need to blame myself in this; but the thing was so terrible,
and had been wrought as it were but at arm's length from me, that
for the time I did so bitterly, framing to myself all sorts of ways
in which a little care might have prevented all. As if one can ever
guard against such treachery!
And then there was the fear for Hilda, none the less troublous that
I knew not what her need might be. One could believe aught of
cruelty from Quendritha.
Only these two things remained to me--one, in some measure to
redeem my word to the mother of the king by finding his body; and
the other, to stay here and watch as well as I might for chance of
helping this one who had suddenly grown to be the best part of my
life, as it seemed to me. And these things I told Erling, for he
was my comrade, and together we had been in danger, and so were
even yet. Rough he was, but with that roughness which is somehow
full of kindness. And I was glad I had told him, for he understood,
and straightway planned for me.
Most of all the difficulty in this planning lay in the outrageous
colour of my good steed. Once we thought of tarring him; but a
tarred horse would be nearly as plain to be noticed as a skew-bald.
I think it says much for the steed that neither of us thought for a
moment of parting with him. In the end we said that we would even
take our chance, for if we were sought it would not be near the
palace.
So we bent ourselves to plan the search for where the body of the
king might be hidden, and that was to unravel a tangled skein
indeed. All we knew was that the cart which had borne him from the
end of the hidden passage had gone northward along a riverside
track. Beyond that, we guessed that it might not have gone far,
whether for fear of meeting folk in the dawning, or because the
slayers would not be willing to cumber their flight for any
distance with it. Moreover, Gymbert was in the palace, as Erling
was certain.
We would ride northward and seek what we might till the time for
meeting Selred came, working down the river toward the palace from
far up stream. Sooner or later thus we should meet with the wheel
tracks, and perhaps be able to follow them whither they went into
the woodlands from the old stream-side way which Gymbert had at
first taken.