Edwy the Fair or the First Chronicle of Aescendune - Part 20
Library

Part 20

"Did they try to follow?"

"They could not, there was no boat: I never saw men in such a rage."

Alfred felt as if a weight were removed from his heart, then he looked up in the face of the guide.

"Will you guide us home?" he said.

"Yes," was the reply; "the holy abbot particularly desired me to return to his son Alfred, and to take care of him on his journey home; and if you will have me as your guide, I will warrant you a safe journey to Aescendune, for we are not worth following."

"Then let us start tomorrow morning," said Alfred, longing to be once more in his old father's presence, and to cheer his mother's heart.

They returned together to the cowherd's cottage, and slept peacefully that night. Early in the morning they retook the path to the Foss Way, crossing the stream at a ford higher up. Their horses being well rested and full of spirit for the journey, they pa.s.sed Glas...o...b..ry, still empty and desolate, in the middle of the day, and retraced by easy stages the whole of Alfred's previous route from home.

After a week's easy travelling, by the blessing of Providence, they reached the neighbourhood of Aescendune: it had never looked so lovely, so home-like to Alfred as then. He felt as if every spot were full of joy, and as he was recognised by person after person, by his favourite dogs as they bounded forth, and finally fell into his mother's arms at the gate of the hall, he experienced feelings which in these days, when we are all so familiar with the thought of travel, can seldom be realised.

Then he had to recount his adventures that night, after supper, to an admiring audience, who listened enraptured to his account of the holiness of Dunstan and the cruelty of his foes. But it will easily be imagined that he made no allusion to his rencontre with Elfric; and Oswy, instructed by his young master, was equally silent.

He had quite made up his mind to persevere in this course: it could do no good to tell father or mother how grievously Elfric had fallen, and how nearly he had been the involuntary instrument of his brother's death.

"G.o.d can change his heart," said Alfred to himself, "and bring him home like the prodigal son about whom Father Cuthbert talks so often."

So he prayed earnestly every day for his brother, and many a supplication on his behalf arose from the altar of St. Wilfred. Time will show whether they were lost.

CHAPTER XIV. EDWY AND ELGIVA.

Edwy, King of England, and Elgiva, his queen, gave a great feast at their royal palace in London, a month after the events recorded in our last chapter; and a numerous company had a.s.sembled to do honour to their hospitality. Yet the company was very different from that which had a.s.sembled round the same hospitable board in the days of King Edred.

First, the Churchmen were conspicuous by their absence; and secondly, all the old grey-headed counsellors, who had been the pride and ornament of the reigns of Edmund and Edred, were not seen; for, after the rumour of their marriage had reached Odo, he had p.r.o.nounced the sentence of the lesser excommunication upon them, severing them from the sacraments; and this was felt by the old counsellors of Edred to be a most serious stigma, yet one which they could not call undeserved: hence they deserted the court.

In their place were the young and giddy, the headstrong sons of wiser fathers, the spendthrifts, the young fops of the period, those who went in for a fast life, to use a modern phrase--who spent the night, if not the day, over the wine cup, and consumed their substance in riotous living--such were they who gathered around Edwy the Fair and the yet fairer Elgiva.

And truly king and queen more beautiful in person had never sat upon a throne; and it was difficult to look upon them and feel aught but admiration, save when one knew all their history, and then pity and sorrow might supply the place of admiration, at least with the sober minded.

Fish, flesh, and fowl; nought was wanting. The earth the air, and the water, all yielded their tribute; for was it not the anniversary of the marriage--the uncanonical marriage, alas!--of the royal pair, if marriage it had truly been?

Eels of enormous size, fine as the Roman lamprey, pike roasted with puddings in their bellies, tench and carp stewed; while the sea yielded its skate, its sturgeon, and its porpoise, which the skill of the cook had so curiously dressed with fragrant spices that it won him great renown. The very smell, said a young gourmand, was a dinner in itself; and the wild buck supplied its haunch, and the boar its head, while fowl of all kinds were handed round on spits.

The drinking was of like sumptuous character, and Rhenish wine contended with the wines of sunny France for precedence, as they were pa.s.sed round in silver cups and gold-mounted horns; for gla.s.s was seldom, if ever, used for such purposes then.

The floor was strewed with the sweetest summer flowers, and exhaled an odour balmy as the breath of eastern climes, where the breeze plays with the orange blossoms. The tapestry was beautifully woven by foreign artists, and represented the loves of the G.o.ds; while there was nothing in keeping with the olden style throughout the whole apartment.

But one seat was vacant near the king's throne, and every now and then Edwy seemed to cast a wistful eye upon it, as if he would fain see its ordinary occupant there.

The gleemen rose and sang, the harpers harped, but something was wanting; they brought tears to the eyes of the fair queen by their plaintive songs of hapless lovers, which had superseded alike the war songs of Athelstane and the monkish odes of Edred.

"Where is Elfric? He promised to be back by our wedding day; why does he delay, my Edwy?" asked Elgiva.

"It is little less than treason to the queen of youth and beauty to be thus absent, my Elgiva, but remember he has been unwell, and Redwald told me that for prudential reasons they delayed his return to court."

"And your brother Edgar--"

"Is somewhere in Mercia: the churlish boy has declined our invitation to honour our feast with his presence. We do not want his serious face at the board. I am sure he would preach on the duty of fasting."

"He has but seldom been our visitor."

"No; he is afraid, perhaps, to trust his cold heart within the magic of my Elgiva's sunshine, lest the ice should be melted."

These had been asides, while all the company were listening to the gleeman; but now Edwy threw himself heart and soul into the current conversation, and all went merry as a marriage peal, until the ceremoniarius--for Edwy loved formality in some things--threw open the folding doors and announced the captain of the hus-carles, and Elfric of Aescendune.

The whole company rose to receive them, and Elfric in particular received a warm welcome; but it was at once seen that there was a marked constraint upon him: his eye was restless and uneasy, and he seemed like one carrying a load at his breast.

In truth, since that fatal night when, as he believed, he had witnessed the death of his brother, he had striven in vain to drown care and to banish remorse: the thought of his aged father deprived of both his sons --the one by death, the other by desertion--would force its way unbidden to his mind. Still, he had determined to throw aside reserve in honour of the occasion, and he made heroic efforts to appear happy and gay.

Redwald was at his ease, as usual in all company, and seemed to cause prodigious laughter as he told his adventures to the younger folk at the bottom of the board. Dark and malign as his demeanour usually was, yet he could affect a light and airy character at times.

"Redwald, my trusty champion," said Edwy, "this is the first campaign thou hast ever returned from unsuccessful. Tell us, how did Dunstan outwit you?"

"By the aid of the devil, my liege."

"Doubtless; but we had all hoped for a different result, and that thou wouldst either have left the traitor no eyes in his head, or no head on his shoulders.

"Said I not rightly, my Elgiva?"

The eyes of the fair enemy of the abbot flashed fire, and she exchanged some very significant words with her mother, Ethelgiva, who occupied the next chair.

"Come, my fairy-given [xxvi] one, you must not be too hard on Redwald, who doubtless did his best--

"How was it, Elfric?"

"The devil was certainly on Dunstan's side: he and no other could have betrayed our coming, for betrayed it was."

"How long had he left when you reached the abbey?"

"Only an hour or two; but there was a sound of mocking laughter, doubtless caused by his incantations, which kept us for some hours forcing doors and the like."

"And you could discover no cause?"

"None whatever; however, we found he had taken the Foss Way for the coast, and followed, and nearly caught him."

"What prevented you?"

Elfric turned pale as if with great mental emotion, and tried to proceed in vain.

"You are not well," said Elgiva, anxiously.

"Not quite," he said; and then, overcoming his feelings by a vigorous effort, while no one save Redwald suspected the true cause, he continued:

"There had been a great storm, and they had broken down the only bridge which existed for miles over a swollen river: we lost hours."