A King's Comrade - Part 29
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Part 29

"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, pa.s.sing 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.s 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 hors.e.m.e.n'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 pa.s.sed, 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, gra.s.s 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 pa.s.sed 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.