King Olaf's Kinsman Part 50

"I suppose my men burnt it?" he said plainly.

"Your father's men did so in the first coming."

"Therefore shall his son rebuild for your father's son," said the king. "Will you accept aught from me?"

"Lord king," said I, "I have fought against you, and have owned you unwillingly at first."

"That is certain," he said laughing, "else had you not tried to take away my queen. Go to, Redwald, you are a troublesome subject."

"I think I shall be so no longer," I answered.

So those two most royal ones bade me farewell, and I went away to Elfric, and found G.o.dwine there. The young earl was high in favour with c.n.u.t, and rightly.

Presently came one from the king with somewhat for me, and that was a goodly gift of money, which I hardly cared to take at first.

Then G.o.dwine laughed at me.

"We have a great chest half full of gold at Pevensea out of which you may take a double handful whenever you need it. c.n.u.t has the gold of three kingdoms and says you may do the same out of his h.o.a.rds. Head breaking brought you the first, and hards.h.i.+p the second. Take one as you would the other, man. It is your due."

And Elfric added that the king's gift was surely out of goodness of heart. There could be no thought of bribes now. So I took it, and was glad thereof, for I could not ask my people for rents and dues yet.

Elfric asked me of Uldra, as one might suppose, and was glad when he heard of her welfare.

"I suppose that when I get back to Medehamstede her folk will want to know how she fares in Normandy, or the like. Maybe they have troubled the good abbess already more than enough, for she brought her to me."

"Whose daughter was she?" I asked.

"Maybe I heard, but I have forgotten," he said. "The abbess knows.

I saw not her folk, for the sisters brought her with them with my consent."

So I went back to Bures well content with all but one thing, and that was what troubled me more than enough. But I knew not that to my dying day I shall rejoice that I kept my troth to Hertha.

It was on one of those wondrous days that come in October, with glory of suns.h.i.+ne and clear sky over gold and crimson of forest and copse, that I learnt this.

I would go to Wormingford now and then to see that all was going well with the rebuilding of Hertha's home, for c.n.u.t's gift was enough for that also, seeing that all one needed was at hand and did but require setting up by skilled workers. Our priest, Father Oswin, found me such craftsmen as I needed.

"Let me rebuild the church first, father," I had said to him when I returned thus rich.

"Not so, my son. That is a matter which must be taken in hand presently, and not hurriedly. Shelter first the man who shall do it, and provide for the fatherless at Wormingford, and it will be better done after all."

Therefore I was very busy. And on this day of which I speak I walked in the late afternoon, and must needs turn aside into the woods by the mere, for I had often done that of late, loving the place for old memories the more now that Olaf came into them. It seemed to me that I had never seen the still mere look more wondrously beautiful than on this day, for we had had neither wind nor rain to mar the autumn beauty of the trees, and that was doubled by the mirror of the water.

So I lingered in that place where Olaf and I had been so nearly slain, thinking of that night and of many other days, and then I heard a footstep coming through the wood, and turned to see who it might be, for I had never met any other in the haunted place.

And there came towards me slowly a white-robed maiden who looked steadfastly at me, saying nought. And I thought that surely she was the White Lady of the Mere. The shadows flickered across her face and dress, and in her hand she bore a basket with crimson leaves and the like.

And then I saw that surely this was Hertha coming to meet me as in the old days when I had waited for her here--Hertha grown older, and changed; but yet as I saw her here in the old place one could not but know her, and half I cried out her name, and then stayed with my heart beating fast.

For as she came into the clearing and was close to me she held out her hands, and the basket fell at her feet, and lo! it was Uldra, whom I loved--and Uldra was Hertha--and I had in my arms all that I longed for, and my trouble was gone for evermore.

"How was it that you knew me not before this?" she asked presently, while we walked together to Wormingford to find Ailwin. They had but come back that morning.

"Always have I seemed to know you well," I said, "but first the sisters' dress, and then that I looked not for Hertha in London, prevented me. And so I grew to know your looks and ways as Uldra, whom I grew to love. Then all thought of the old likeness that puzzled me at first was forgotten. There is no wonder in it, for you have grown from childhood to womanhood since we fled from Bures, and I have gone through much that blotted your face from my mind. Rather do I wonder where you have been all this time."

"One secret I may not tell you today," she said; "and that is where our safest hiding place has been in sorest peril. Some day I will show it you, for it is not far. But for long did Gunnhild and I dwell with her brother in the forest and marsh fastnesses beyond the Colne. There one might take to the woods when prowling Danes were near, though it was but twice, and but for a few hours then, that we had to do so. There was little or no danger there when the host pa.s.sed on. Some day shall you and I ride to that quiet farmstead, for I love the kindly folk who cared for me so well."

Then I said, and my words came to pa.s.s afterwards:

"If they will, they shall have my best farm here for their own, that they may be near you. Now tell me how you came to be with Elfric."

She blushed a little, and laughed.

"When we were at Penhurst," she said, "you told me how you were seeking me--well, maybe I was seeking you. It fell out thus. When you and Olaf, whom I long to see, scattered the Danes here, Gunnhild said that we must fly, for they were seeking hiding places. So she would go to her sister, who is abbess at Ramsey, by the great mere of Whittlesea. So we fled there, and the journey was overmuch for her, and there she died after two days. That was a sore grief to me, but I will not speak of grief now. Then Ailwin told the abbess to keep me with her until all things were safe, when he would return for me. But Gunnhild had asked her to find me a place with the Lady Algitha, Eadmund Atheling's wife, because I should meet you in his house often enough. That she could do, and would have done.

"Then the Danes came, and one day Elfric sent word that he was going to Normandy. Those two sisters would go home, and so the abbess sent me with them, thinking that thus her sister's plan for me would be best carried out. For she was told by Elfric that you were in charge of the party, saying the sisters would be safe in your care. Elfric might get me a place in the queen's new household; and if not--if you knew me not nor cared for me--there was always the convent."

"So all that plan came out thus--and it is well," I said. "But why would you not come to Penhurst at first?"

She laughed lightly, answering:

"Can you not guess? Relf saw, and set things right. Did he never tell you what was wrong?"

"He said that it was want of travelling gear," said I.

"Why, that was not it, though being thoughtful and fatherly he asked of that first."

"Tell me what was the trouble, then."

"I thought--there were things said, and you called me by her name--that the wedding Relf spoke of was yours and s.e.xberga's. That was all."

"Surely Relf knew not who you were?"

"No. He did not till Ailwin came to Penhurst."

"Then," said I, "it pa.s.ses me to know how he found out what the trouble was."

"Because he has a daughter of his own," she laughed.

And so she began to speak of s.e.xberga's wedding, which had been not long since.

Then we came to Wormingford, and there was Ailwin, bent and aged indeed by the troubles, but well, and rejoiced to see me once more, and that I and Hertha were so happily together. But I had to ask his pardon for my roughness to him before I could feel content.

"My son, had you not felt this matter very deeply, I know you would not have troubled yourself even to wrath about it. Truly I was glad to hear you speak so. There is nought to forgive."

So he said, and maybe he was right.

I rode back presently to Bures with my heart full of joy, and a wondrous content. And when I came to the house on the green I was to learn that joys come not always singly any more than sorrows, which are ever doubled.

The door stood open as I rode up, and in the red light from within the house stood two tall figures on the threshold, and the light flashed from helms and mail as they moved, and for a moment a fear came over me that some new call to arms waited me, so that the peace that I thought I had at last found was to be s.n.a.t.c.hed from me. For it was as in the days when Olaf's men stood on guard over us at the doorway.