A Prince of Cornwall Part 8

Ina laughed, and even Owen smiled at the ready Norseman, but Herewald the ealdorman and I wondered at him, for he spoke as to equals, with no sort of fear of the king on him, which was not altogether the way of men who stood before Ina.

Then said Owen quietly:

"Friend, I think there is a favour I may ask you, rather. I have bided away from my uncle, King Gerent, because I would not return to him unasked, being somewhat proud, maybe. But now it seems to King Ina and myself that needs must I go to him to take the news of this death of Morgan myself. It is a matter that might easily turn to a cause of war between Wess.e.x and West Wales, for if the man tried to slay our king in his own court, it may also be told that here was slain a prince of Dyvnaint. There is full need that the truth should reach the king before rumour makes the matter over great. You have seen all, and are known to the Welsh court as a friend. Come with me, therefore, tomorrow and tell the tale."

"That I will, Prince," Thorgils said. "You will be welcome; but as I warn you, there will be need for care."

"You know somewhat of the ways of the Welsh court," said Ina.

"Needs must, Lord King. I am a shipmaster, and every trader I carry across the sea, sometimes to South Wales, and sometimes to Bristol, and betimes so far as to Ireland, tells me all he has learned. It were churlish not to listen, and then we need warning against such attacks as that of Morgan. Moreover, one likes somewhat to talk of."

"That is plain enough," said Nunna, laughing.

"Maybe I do talk too much," answered the Norseman. "It is a failing in my family. But my sister is worse than I."

Then the king laughed again, and so dismissed the shipman, and presently Owen bade me make all preparation for riding to Norton on the morrow early. Ina would have us take a strong guard, and I should bring them back, either with or without Owen, as things went.

But little sleep had I that night, for I knew too well that from henceforth my life and that of my foster father must lie apart, and how far sundered we might be I could not tell. There was no love of the Saxon in West Wales, nor of the Welshman in Wess.e.x.

CHAPTER IV. HOW THE LADY ELFRIDA SPOKE WITH OSWALD, AND OF THE MEETING WITH GERENT.

Gerent, the king of the West Welsh, as we called him, ruled over all the land of Devon and Cornwall, from the fens of the Tone and Parrett Rivers to the Land's End. Only those wide fens, across which he could not go, had kept our great King Kenwalch from pushing Wess.e.x yet westward, and along their line had been our frontier since his days until, not long before Ina came to the throne, Kentwine crossed them to the north and cleared the marauding Welsh of the Quantock hills and forests from the river to the sea, setting honest Saxon franklins here and there in the new-won land, to keep it for him. It was out of those deep wooded hills that Morgan had come on the raid that ended so badly for his brother and himself, for the wasted country was yet a sort of no-man's land, where outlaws found easy harbourage, coming mostly from the Welsh side. It would not need much to set the tide of war moving westward again, now that our men knew the fenland as well as ever the British learned the secrets of the paths.

Now that the time seemed to have come for him to leave Ina, Owen feared most of all that the long peace would end, for that would mean the rending of old friendships and certain parting from me.

How much longer the peace would last was very doubtful, and men said that it was only the wisdom of Aldhelm that had kept it so well, and now he was dead. It was not so long since that a west Welshman would not so much as eat with a Saxon, so great was the hatred they had for us, though that had worn off more or less.

Maybe it would have pa.s.sed altogether but that there were the differences between the ways of the two Churches which were always cropping up and making things bitter again, and those were the troubles that Aldhelm, whom Gerent honoured, had most tried to smooth away with some sort of success. Yet it was well known that many of the Welsh priests and people were sorely against peace with the men who followed the way of Austin of Canterbury.

As for me, I almost wondered that Ina seemed so ready to part with Owen, but presently I saw that if Gerent owned him again, my foster father would be a link between the two kingdoms, which would make for peace in every way. But for all that, in my own heart was a sort of half hope that in spite of what the Norseman had heard, Owen would not be welcomed back to the west, else I should lose him altogether. There was no intercourse between our courts, now that Aldhelm was gone.

But in the morning, when I came to say some of this to Owen, he smiled at me, and said:

"Wait, Oswald. Time enough for trouble when it comes. Maybe you and I will be back here this evening, and if not, I hope that my staying with my uncle will mean peace between our lands. Let it be so till we have seen what may be our fortune at Norton."

So I tried to let the trouble pa.s.s, and indeed at the morning meal I had my new rank to think of, for my comrades would not forget it, nor would they let me do so. The first man to greet me as thane was Thorgils the Norseman, too, and he went with me to see to choosing men and horses for our journey, and I was glad of his gossip, for it kept me from thinking overmuch of the heavier things that had kept me waking.

He would guide us across the hills to Norton, where Gerent was; for though we knew somewhat of the Quantocks, beyond them we did not go. The palace where the king lay was an ancient Roman stronghold, and had belonged to Morgan, who was dead; and though Thorgils had heard that Gerent was there to seek Owen, it was more likely that he had come to see that the outlawed brothers did not gather any force against him in their own place. It was many a year since he had been so near our border.

Presently Thorgils would go down the town to the inn where he had bestowed his horse, and I went with him, having an hour left before we started, rather than face any more banter concerning my thanedom. It was almost in my mind to go to the ealdorman's house to ask after Elfrida, but I forbore, being shy, I suppose, and so left the Norseman to join us presently, and went back to the king's hall by a short cut from the village, whereby I had a meeting which was unlooked for altogether.

That way was a sort of stolen short cut across the king's orchard, which some of us used at times in coming from village to hall, for it lay between the two on the south side of the hall where the ground sloped sunwards. And as I leapt over the fence I was aware of a lady who was gathering some of the ruddy crab apples from the ground under their bare tree, for the hot ale of the wa.s.sail bowl, doubtless, for we leave them out to mellow with the frost thus. She did not heed me as I came over the soft snow, and when she did at last look up I saw that she was Elfrida. Just for a moment I wished that I had gone round by the road, but there was no escape for me now, for she had seen me. So I unbonneted and went to meet her.

There was a little flush on her face when she saw me, but it was not altogether one of pleasure, for when I wished her good morrow, all that I had in return was a cold little bow and the few words that needs must be spoken in answer. Whereat I felt somewhat foolish; but it did not seem to me that I had done aught to deserve quite so much coldness, not being a stranger by any means. So I would even try to find the way to a better understanding, and I thought that maybe the sight of me had brought back some of the terror of last night.

"Now, I hope that the rough doings of the feast have not been troublous to you, Lady Elfrida," I said, trying with as good a grace as I could not to see her cold looks.

I saw that she did indeed shrink a little from them as I spoke, even in the pa.s.sing thought.

But she answered:

"Such things are best forgotten as soon as may be. I do not wish to hear more of them."

"Nevertheless," I answered, "there are some who will not forget them, and I fear that you must needs be ready to hear of your part in them pretty often."

"Ay," she said somewhat bitterly, "I suppose that I am the talk of the whole place now."

"If so, there would be many who would be glad to be spoken of as you must needs be. There is nought but praise for you."

Then she turned on me, and the trouble was plain enough in a moment.

"But for yourself, Thane, there would have been nought that I could not have put up with. But little thought for me was there when you made me the jest of your idle comrades over that foolish cup of the king's."

That was a new way of looking at the matter, in all truth. I supposed that a vow of fealty to any lady would have been taken by her as somewhat on which to pride herself maybe, from whomsoever it came. Which seemed to be foolishness in this fresh light. Still, it came to me that her anger was not altogether fair, for I was the one who had to stand the jesting, and not one of my honest comrades so much as mentioned her name lightly in any wise.

"That was no jest of mine, Elfrida," I said gravely enough. "If there is any jest at all that will come from my oath, it will be that I have been foolish enough to vow fealty to one who despises me. The last thing that I would do is anything that might hurt you.

And my vow stands fast, whether you scorn me or not, for if it was made in a moment, it is not as if I had not had long years to think on in which we have been good friends enough."

"Ay," she said, turning from me and reaching some apples that yet hung on a sheltered bough, "I have heard the terms of that vow from my father, more than once. You can keep it without trouble."

"Have I your leave to try to keep it?"

"You have had full leave to be a good friend of ours all these years, as you say, and I do not see that the vow binds you to more.

No one thinks that you are likely to forget last night, or any one who took part in that cruel business. And if a friend will not help to guard a lady--well, he would be just nidring, no more or less."

Then she took up her basket, which was pretty full and no burden for a lady, for she had picked fast and heedlessly as she spoke to me, and so turned away.

"Nay, but surely you know that there was more than that meant," I said lamely.

"No need to have haled my name into the matter at all," she said.

And then, seeing that my eyes went to the basket, she smiled a little, and held it to me with both hands.

"Well, if you meant some new sort of service, you can begin by carrying this for me. I am going to the queen's bower."

I took it without a word, and we went silently together to the door that led to the queen's end of the hall. There she stayed for a moment with her hand on the latch.

But she had only a question to ask me:

"Do you go with your father to the Welsh king's court, as it is said that he will go shortly?"

"We start together in an hour's time or thereabout," I answered, wondering.

"Well then, take this to mind you of your vow," she said, and threw a little bronze brooch, gilt and set with bright enamel, into the basket, and so fled into the house, leaving me on the doorstep with the apples.

I set them down there, and had a mind to leave the brooch also.

However, on second thoughts I took it, and went my way in a puzzled state of mind. It certainly seemed that Elfrida was desperately angry with me for reasons which were not easy to fathom, and yet she had given me this--that is, if to have a thing thrown at one is to have it given. But I was not going to quarrel with the manner of a gift from Elfrida, and so I went on with it in my hand, and as I turned the corner into a fresh path I also ran into the abbot of the new minster, who was on his way to speak with Owen before he set out. He had been a great friend of Bishop Aldhelm's, and I had known him well since the old days of Malmesbury.