Part 9 (1/2)
Hardly had the Queen left the room than s.e.xwolf, her neglected favourite, sprang out upon her; and bitterly he upbraided her, raging, expostulating, pleading, outside the very door of King Offa's cabinet.
”Hold thy tongue, young man!” said she loudly, in her stateliest tones; and she swept from before him into the hall, where some were setting out the evening meal.
It was a hot evening, even sultry. They opened the doors, and such windows as had swinging frames, and the red glow of sunset shone in upon them for a brief hour. Though few of their court were to be present, they decked themselves that night in their full finery.
Cynerith, clad in wine-purple, was as handsome, seen by twilight, as she had ever been in the days of her prime. Eadburh, in green and crimson, was gorgeous and blatant. Ethelfrith wore white, exquisitely embroidered with silver and gold.
Star of Mercia was she indeed that night. Eadburh seemed a burning brazier by contrast; Cynerith a painted shrew. No more was the Lady Ethelfrith silent; merry words flowed from her lips; time and again her laughter rippled out, soft and joyous. King Offa began, as was his custom, to talk of his wars, and of the stupendous d.y.k.e, boundary between his dominions and the lands of the wild Welsh, which the March folk, at his bidding, had dug in the sweat of their brows; but he soon hushed his voice, and listened proudly while his youngest-born told of her new-found pleasure in hunting, dancing, and friendly company. Even the Atheling, a stalwart, somewhat sullen youth, was seen once or twice to smile.
They brought her cither, and she sang them all her store of songs, with an art and confidence of which none had ever thought her capable. King Ethelbert applauded her and cast fond looks upon her, and at the end of every ditty he prayed her for more.
By and by, when the light faded and the torches were kindled, Offa the King began to yawn, and to doze in his chair. The Queen then conversed apart with Ethelbert. She bore herself meekly towards him, was innocent and child-like in manner and speech. Presently Offa awoke. His wife was beside him, bearing a br.i.m.m.i.n.g tumbler.
”What--what--sweetheart?” said he.
”It is mine own brew that thou lovest so well,” Cynerith replied. She waited while he drank, and noted how the potion increased his drowsiness.
”Husband,” she whispered, ”I have sure proof that it is even as I guessed. He will go hence upon the morrow, leaving us pledges which he hath no mind to fulfil. Then will he stir up the men of his own kingdom, without doubt, hoping to take thee defenceless in thine old age. The hour is ripe, Offa my King! Shall he live to work our undoing?”
”I shall be nithing in the eyes of all men,” murmured Offa.
”Lo, no man shall know how the end did come about,” said the Queen. ”I, thy wife, will be thy handmaid in this as in all things, aye, and bear the blame, if blame be to follow. Trust in me. O son of Woden, it profiteth not a man to spare his enemies. Hereafter shall thy sway reach from the hills of Wales even unto the eastern sea.”
And Offa nodded his head.
She took another cup in her hand, and beckoned to Ethelbert, who rose to meet her midmost in the hall.
”We will talk together of the wedding day,” said she. ”The King leaves all such business unto me.” Then they drank to one another, very gravely, where they stood.
Eadburh, sitting by her sister, nudged her, with sneering lips.
”Let us now to bed, children,” cried Cynerith.
”I trow we are all full weary, even as our lord the King.”
As she pa.s.sed out, she said in the ear of a trusted servant: ”Gymbert, be ready against I need thee!”
Edric the seneschal stayed behind, searching the floor and the tables for property mislaid, smothering the torches himself with meticulous care. He heard a light step brush across the strewn rushes. Ethelfrith stood before him, darkly cloaked and hooded.
”My little hare was ailing this evening,” said she. ”I might not find thee, Edric, though I sought. But even now he is better than I could earlier have hoped.”
”I will go see him early to-morrow,” said Edric, ”if ye do think he will live through this night.” He was a man of few words.
”He will live through the night.... Edric, I have no wish to sleep. I have thoughts and fears which break through my rest.... And then ...
Eadburh said ... at least I do fancy that she meant to say....”
”Her tongue wags ever too fast,” Edric rejoined. ”Well, lady, what said she?”
”It was of my lord King Ethelbert she spake.... I am sorely troubled.