by Chris Bishop
* * * * *
The first settlement we came to after leaving the forest was actually a large one. It comprised at least thirteen homesteads which had gathered together where the road crossed a wide but shallow river. The river provided some measure of protection but there was also a tall fence with a pair of stout gates to the front which, although ajar, could no doubt be quickly closed against an attack.
As we approached our spirits rose as it seemed likely that such a large settlement would include someone, perhaps a headman or even a thane, who could get word to Lord Alfred. At the very least they would be able to give us directions to Chippenham. As we were bearing arms, I resolved to go straight to whoever commanded there and explain our position. Whilst he would be obliged to help us, he would doubtless require something in return as indeed he was entitled to do.
Although not quite an Ealdorman, my being from a noble family should have made things easier for us but I was aware that not having a first name derived from that of my father might make people suspicious. Therefore as we approached the settlement we let Brother Benedict lead the way whilst Aelred and I followed a few paces behind, me with my sword sheathed and Aelred with his spear lowered. Even so, I was not surprised to find a man come forward to greet us armed with a somewhat rustic axe.
‘I’m known as Matthew,’ I said out loud as we drew near enough for him to hear. ‘I was christened Edward and am the third born son of Lord Edwulf who was a counsellor to Lord Alfred himself. My friends and I require only—’ He didn’t let me finish. Instead, he summoned others to come out from the settlement and stand at the entrance, thereby fully barring any access to the gates.
‘We come as friends,’ I tried, realising something was wrong. ‘As I said I’m Matthew and—’
‘We know full well who you be and you’re not welcome here!’ he bellowed, still keeping his distance.
For a moment I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. ‘But we’re honest Saxons. I want only to pass word to your Lord seeking his permission to cross his land whilst bearing arms. That and for him to send word to Lord Alfred of our coming.’
‘I also know what you be and if I was you I’d not risk another step.’
I looked across and saw that three men had positioned themselves just outside the gates, their bows raised and drawn ready to shoot. ‘Who are you to deny me my Saxon rights?’ I demanded. ‘Who is it that you think I am?’
The headman looked at me suspiciously. ‘You are that there warrior with the pierced heart we’ve heard tell of, are you not? If you dispute that, then open your shirt and prove it so.’
‘What’s that to do with anything? It’s true that I was wounded in the service of our King, but I offer no threat to the lives of you or your families.’
‘No, not to our lives. Not with these odds against you, you can be sure of that! But you would steal our very souls if we let you. For is it not true that you died and returned from the dead? That you plucked out your own heart when you withdrew the arrow that killed you but never put it back!’
‘What, are you saying that I no longer have a heart?’ I said, incredulous that he could even think such a thing. ‘If so, then feel my breast, for it beats within as does that of any man. How could I live and breathe without it?’
‘The Devil looks after his own,’ said the man, then crossed himself.
‘So what are you looking at? A ghost? Believe me I’m as mortal as the next man. If you doubt that then loose your arrows and you’ll see that I bleed and die as easily as any other. But beware, in killing me you’ll incur the displeasure of your King.’
‘We was warned that you’d try to trick us,’ said the headman. ‘It’s said that you’re set upon snaring the souls of men for Lucifer himself, which is why he sent you back from hell. And we’ll have no truck with that here. So leave or we’ll send you back to him!’
‘You would refuse aid to your fellow Saxons even though I’ve told you who I am?’
‘I don’t care who you are but do know full well what you are!’ he said.
‘I told you, I am Matthew, christened Edward, the son of Lord Edwulf and I serve our King.’
‘You serve the Devil most likely! And you expect me to believe that you’re of noble birth, yet you travel half naked and in rags. What’s more, you fare no better than those wretches who travel with you! So what do you take me for? A fool?’
Brother Benedict came to stand beside me. ‘This man is no servant of the Devil,’ he said.
The headman scoffed. ‘There speaks a man of God who has not the commitment to his faith to even wear a cross about his neck.’
‘You do not need to wear a cross to do God’s work,’ replied Brother Benedict boldly. ‘But you should know that all we owned was stolen when we were taken captive by Viking slavers.’
‘We’ve heard tell of that as well. It’s said they released him because even they feared to kill him. What’s more, he consorted with pagans, rutting with them like an animal in the forest.’
‘None of this is true!’ I protested, carefully ignoring the last point for I was certain there was no way I could explain what had transpired between Ingar and myself.
‘Pah! I hear the Devil’s voice in every lie you tell. You should repent your evil and look to repair your soul to God, not trouble simple folk like us who seek only to follow the path of righteousness.’
‘I think it better that we leave,’ whispered Aelred. ‘You may have a body that can’t be slain but I’m a mere mortal and have no wish for them to prove it so.’
‘That’s right, you should leave whilst you can,’ said the man having clearly overheard what Aelred said. ‘Either that or I’ll have your worthless carcass flayed wide open. Then maybe we shall see your wicked soul for ourselves!’
The group by the gate were looking very unsettled at that point and I could sense that their mood was growing darker. ‘We’ll leave,’ I said solemnly, having decided that nothing I could say would be believed. ‘But Lord Alfred shall hear of this for in refusing us you have betrayed your Saxon heritage.’
With that we turned and left.
* * * * *
Once safely away from the settlement we stopped to decide what best to do.
‘It seems you’ve become something of a legend,’ said Aelred having clearly taken no offence at having been turned away. Perhaps he was used to it, which reminded me that I still knew very little about his past life beyond that which I’d assumed and the few words he’d said on the matter.
‘It’s my fault,’ I told them. ‘I’m being punished for the many sins I’ve committed. There’s no call for you both to suffer with me.’
Brother Benedict shook his head. ‘That’s not the way of it,’ he explained. ‘These are simple folk who have not fully forsaken their ancient beliefs but rather they’ve welded them to their Christian faith. Thus they are all too ready to believe the rumours and superstitions they hear tell of. Don’t judge them too harshly for that for they have so little in this world that they’ll do anything they can to protect their souls in the next.’
I nodded knowingly. ‘What you say is true,’ I admitted. ‘Although less committed to my calling than you are, from all I learned as a novice at the Abbey I know that such doubts and fears are rooted deep in their beliefs. That being so, we cannot hope to explain the truth of our position even if we get close enough for them to listen. Therefore I see little point in trying and our best course is to continue in the hope of finding another settlement where we may be received more warmly. Failing that we’ll have to find our own way to Chippenham.’
‘You were once a monk!’ said Aelred. ‘Christ, is there anything you haven’t done? For one so young you’ve already lived and done more than many men who’ve lived three times as long as you!’
I could see he had a point. ‘Yes, but when I abandoned my calling I did so because I thought God had shown me a path he wanted me to follow; a path I willingly trod though it has nearly cost me my life several t
imes at least. Now it seems he’s spared me again, so I’m bound to wonder what else he has in store for me.’ Even as I spoke I realised that as I hadn’t actually renounced my calling before leaving to fulfil Alfred’s orders I was, in essence, still bound by my vows. I had only been a novice so hadn’t fully pledged myself to the Church but still the thought troubled me, particularly as I hadn’t offered prayers for my redemption even though the list of my sins seemed to grow longer by the day.
‘It’s of no matter,’ said Brother Benedict when I mentioned this. ‘God knows what’s in your heart. No amount of mumblings or pleadings will change things and besides, God cannot answer everyone’s prayers at once because what suits one man will not be right for another. And remember, if you pray only to make things better for yourself you are not acknowledging God, you are seeking help with whatever burden you carry, something you should manage for yourself.’
It was an intriguing point but one I’d never really considered. ‘If that’s so, then why should we bother to pray at all?’ I asked.
‘You should pray to give thanks for his providence, not to trouble him with pleas to improve your lot in life or to deliver you from harm. So confess your sins and thank him for his bounty. That’s all he asks of you.’
‘But you prayed almost constantly whilst we were held captive by the slavers,’ I pointed out.
‘‘I admit it. I was weak and very frightened at the time,’ said Brother Benedict. ‘Yet in my heart I knew it was wrong. Even so, the good Lord saw fit to hear my prayers and doubtless will hear yours when you’re ready.’
‘Then are prayers not enough to gain forgiveness for our transgressions?’
‘No, confession is the time for that. But don’t expect to bargain with the Lord for your sins to be set off against some act of piety. Only fools believe they can barter or buy their way into heaven.’
‘Yet the Church would have us pay for redemption.’
‘Don’t look to me in that regard for I’m not ordained. But my order has no truck with men seeking to ease their conscience with silver. It demands instead that we perform some act of contrition that is of benefit to others but offers no advantage to ourselves. I shall do as much if and when the chance arises.’
‘So what of me?’ I asked. ‘What must I do to assuage my many sins?’
Brother Benedict looked at me kindly then placed his hand on my shoulder. ‘Your soul is deeply troubled, I know. But you must first find it in your heart to forgive yourself. To do that I’ve found that it sometimes helps to share your burden in confidence with others.’
‘There’s much I should confess,’ I admitted. ‘I caused many men to die on my account and that troubles me daily. I’ve also killed men with my own hand, albeit mostly with good cause, and, as you know, I lay with Ingar as part of a pagan ritual. Not of my own accord you understand, but I did so willingly enough. In doing so I not only betrayed my faith but also the unspoken promise I gave to the woman I love.’
‘Huh! That I should be so lucky!’ said Aelred, who seemed to find it all amusing. ‘I’d have willingly traded my soul to lay with a woman like that!’
‘I had no choice,’ I explained. ‘She drugged me with some potent brew so that I became consumed with lust. She later told me that she’d conceived a child, though I cannot say how she knew that so soon after our union.’
‘Such things are beyond my understanding,’ admitted Brother Benedict. ‘Therefore there’s little I can offer by way of guidance except to say that if you sinned against your will I cannot see how that will weigh heavily upon your soul.’
‘It’s true that I was not fully conscious, though as I’ve said, I was willing enough at the time.’
‘I bet you were!’ mocked Aelred. ‘Anyway, what difference can it make now? She’s gone and as like as not any child she carries could be from that bastard Ljot.’
I decided to let the matter rest there and instead concentrate on looking for another settlement. At least that might speed our return and I could then take further counsel from my old abbot. I could also speak with Alfred to explain how my men came to be lost and make my confession to Emelda and beg for her forgiveness for having thus betrayed her. Given that she had been a whore and thereby lain with many men, any contrition I felt for what had transpired between Ingar and myself may sound strange, but the truth is that Emelda’s sins were not of her making whereas my betrayal of her was something for which I felt I was, at least in part, to blame.
Chapter Eight
We were all three of us unusually quiet that night as we ate our supper. We’d set our camp at what we judged to be a safe distance from the settlement in case the people there felt the need to drive us off still further. I have to say that it did not sit well with me that we should be regarded as outcasts, though neither of the others seemed to see it as a slight.
‘So, tell us about this woman of yours,’ said Aelred, breaking the silence. ‘The one you say you’ve betrayed.’
I was not sure how best to answer. ‘I’ve not actually asked for her hand in marriage,’ I explained. ‘But it is…understood between us that we’ll wed.’
‘Which means that you’ve bedded her but not actually committed to taking her to wife,’ he teased knowingly.
I said nothing.
‘I’ll wager she’s the daughter of a rich Saxon Lord or some fat merchant.’
How could I tell him that her father was a traitor and that she’d been forced to become a whore, as was her mother? As I thought about that I began to realise why Alfred had such misgivings about the match. Ordinary people like Aelred would find it very strange for a person in my position to marry someone so far beneath my station.
‘At least tell us her name?’ pressed Aelred.
‘She’s called Emelda,’ I replied.
‘And judging by your taste in women, I bet the fair Emelda is a real looker, am I right?’
I couldn’t resist a smile. I was thinking back to when I first saw her that night at her father’s camp when most of the men barely gave her a second glance. Although never beautiful, not like my mother or my sister, she was pretty enough to my eyes but then she let herself go once Alfred had decreed her fate. ‘She provided much comfort in the difficult days at Athelney,’ I managed.
‘I bet she did!’ mocked Aelred. ‘Just like Ingar provided comfort as you recovered from your wound.’
‘It wasn’t like that,’ I assured them.
Aelred just laughed and said something like ‘it never is’, although I didn’t hear him properly. Brother Benedict on the other hand said a great deal more albeit in far fewer words.
‘I’m not sure what your abbot would say about how you have consorted with these women. I know you mean to renounce your vows, but they are still relevant until you do.’
Those few words touched upon many of the things which troubled me. Not least of which was how my faith, which had once been so important to me, had become neglected. It was as though it had died when the arrow struck and perhaps grazed that part of my heart in which I carried my love for the Holy Church. ‘My intentions towards Emelda remain unchanged,’ I said, not absolutely certain that was still true. ‘Besides, there was much at the time which might mitigate my sin. I can’t say more, but believe me that’s so. As for Ingar, as I’ve said, that was not of my doing.’
Brother Benedict just looked at me for a moment then nodded wisely as though he’d said all that was needed.
‘I just hope I get to commit a few more sins worth mitigating before I die,’ said Aelred, still laughing. ‘Or even just get to bed a few more women if it comes to that.’
* * * * *
‘How’s your wound?’ asked Aelred as we rose the next day and started on our way.
I hesitated before replying. ‘It pains me less, but I sometimes find it hard to catch my breath and still seem to tire too easily.’
‘Perhaps you should have rested longer,’ suggested Brother Benedict.
‘There’ll be time fo
r that once we’re safely back at Chippenham,’ I reasoned. ‘That of course assumes Alfred has returned there. He may have moved on to Winchester by now from where he could more readily govern his realm.’
Aelred stopped in his tracks. ‘God’s truth, Matthew, we can’t keep chasing across the Shires looking for him!’
‘We’ll learn more as we go,’ I assured him. ‘Failing that, once we reach Chippenham we can send word to him from there.’
‘That’s if anyone will actually speak to us!’
We had come to what looked to be an old Roman road, still paved and lined with stones but in need of much repair. We thought it might lead eventually to Chippenham – or at least to some other significant settlement. After all, no one ever took the trouble to build a road to nowhere. We therefore followed it and our hopes were raised still further when we came across a signpost which actually named Chippenham but which pointed towards the east. If true, it meant we’d been travelling in the wrong direction.
‘It’s probably a shortcut,’ suggested Brother Benedict.
‘More likely it’s some fool’s idea of a joke,’ said Aelred. ‘Chippenham can’t possibly lie to the east unless someone has turned the whole world around whilst we’ve been away!’
I doubted that either of them was right. Given that so few people could read, it was unusual to find a signpost of any sort except at very important crossroads, which certainly that wasn’t. In fact the route to the east was nothing more than a rough track so to me it was obvious that the sign had been placed there by someone who was anxious we should not reach wherever the road was headed. With that thought in mind, I decided we should continue as we were.
We had not gone far when we came across a flock of about two dozen sheep. I looked around to see who was minding them but could see no one. I knew it was unlikely that a shepherd would leave such a large flock untended so called out aloud.
‘Show yourself!’ I ordered. ‘We come in peace and mean no harm to you or your flock.’
There was no immediate answer. ‘Well,’ said Aelred, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, ‘if these are “wild” sheep we shall dine on roast mutton tonight and for many days to come.’