Part 22 (2/2)
”Some royal messenger, perhaps, from Edgar or from Edwy, my son. I fear such may be the case; yet I wish I could be left in peace, afar from the strife which must convulse the land, if the ill-advised brothers cannot agree to reign--the one over Mercia, the other over Wess.e.x.”
”We have repeatedly said that we should be quite neutral, father.”
”And yet, my son, we offend both parties, and, I fear me, we shall be forced to defend ourselves in the end. But G.o.d is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. And now that I am old I can lean more and more upon Him. He will be a father to you, my Alfred, when these h.o.a.ry hairs are hidden in the grave.”
It was seldom that the old thane expressed his devotion in this strain; it seemed to Alfred as if there were a foreboding of coming trial in it, and he felt as when a cloud veils the face of the sun in early spring.
The messenger now came in sight--a tall, resolute looking man, well armed and well mounted, and evidently bound for the hall. But when he saw the party beneath the trees he bent his course aside, and saluting the thane with all deference, inquired if he spoke to Ella of Aescendune.
”I am he,” replied Ella. ”I trust you are not the bearer of other than good tidings; but will you first refresh yourself, since it is ill talking between the full and the fasting?”
”With gladness do I accept your bounty; for I have ridden since early dawn, and rider and horse are both exhausted.”
”There is corn for your horse, and food and wine for his master.
”Uhred, take charge of the steed.
”Alfred, my son, place that best joint of beef before the stranger, and those wheaten cakes.
”I drink to you, fair sir.”
The messenger seemed in no hurry to open his tale until he had eaten and drunk, and it was with the greatest patience that the thane, who was one of nature's gentlemen, awaited his leisure.
At length the messenger looked up, and pushed his wooden platter aside.
”I have come to be the bearer of good tidings to you, n.o.ble thane. Edwy, your king, with a small troop of horse, his royal retinue, proposes honouring your roof with his presence, and asks bed and board of his loyal subject, Ella of Aescendune.”
”The king's will is my law; and since it pleases the son of my late beloved master, King Edmund, to visit me, he shall find no lack of hospitality. But may I ask what sudden event has brought him into the heart of our country?”
”He comes to chastise rebellion. A large force of several thousand men crosses the river a few miles higher this evening, and, not to incommode you with numbers, King Edwy comes apart from his followers.”
Although he foresaw grave inconvenience, and even danger, in the proposal, yet Ella could not appear churlish and inhospitable; therefore, learning from the messenger that the king might be expected before sunset, he returned home to make such preparations as should suggest themselves for the entertainment of his royal master, for so he still would have styled Edwy, deeply as he felt he had been wronged by him.
”Father,” said Alfred, as he walked homeward by his side, ”think you Elfric will be in his train? I wish he may be.”
”Alas, my son! I fear I shall never see poor Elfric again. My mind always seems to misgive me when I think of him; and I have so strong a foreboding that he has received my last blessing, that I cannot overcome it. No, Alfred, I fear we shall not see Elfric tonight.”
No more was said upon the subject; they reached the hall in good time, and startled the lady Edith by their tidings.
Instantly all was in preparation: the best casks of wine were broached, fowls and wild birds alike had cause to lament that their lives were shortened, chamberlain and cook were busy, clean rushes were brought in to adorn the floor of the hall, sweet flowers and aromatic gra.s.s for that of the royal bedchamber; and it was not till a flourish of trumpets announced the approach of the cavalcade that all was ready, and the maidens and men servants, arrayed in their best holiday attire, stood grouped without the gate to receive their king.
At last the glitter of the departing ray upon pointed lances announced the approach, and soon the whole party might be seen--a hundred horse accompanying the king's person, and one or two n.o.bles of distinction, including Redwald, riding by his side.
When the train first reached the spot from which the castle was visible, a strange thing occurred. The king's eyes were fixed upon Redwald, and, to the royal astonishment, the whole frame of that worthy seemed shaken by a sudden emotion. His countenance became pale, his lips were compressed, and his eyes seemed to dart fire.
”What is the matter, my Redwald?” asked the king.
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