by K T Findlay
‘She’s alive at least. She’s still breathing. Very lightly, but she’s breathing.’
Thomas told Wulfstan how to put her in the recovery position, and went off to see how Rowena was getting along.
‘What on earth are they doing now?’ asked the King.
‘They appear to be lining up behind the one fighting Grimketil.’ said Marwig.
‘I can see that for myself man!’ said the exasperated Offa. ‘What I meant was, why on earth don’t they just surround him and finish him off?’
Grimketil was equally perplexed, as he exchanged sword taps with Rowena. Apart from Topaz, Jade and Wulfstan who were attending to Melody, the rest of the coterie had lined up behind Rowena and were chatting excitedly amongst themselves, paying him almost no heed.
‘You’re all mine Grimketil. They’ll only get involved if I make a mess of things.’ Rowena explained.
Grimketil nodded his understanding, and struck low towards her knee, but he was tiring now, and she deflected it easily with her buckler before launching an attack of her own with a thrust to the face. Too slow to be able to defend with his sword, he ducked his head out of the way and stepped to his right. Rowena’s blade landed on his left shoulder, slashing away his tunic to reveal the mail shirt in all its glory.
‘Grimketil’s wearing mail!’ gasped the King. ‘The man gave me his word!’
The Queen glared at him. ‘I’ve been trying to tell you for years the man couldn’t be trusted! Now perhaps you’ll believe me!’
‘Very pretty.’ said Rowena, admiring the shimmering rings. ‘The King doesn’t look too pleased though.’
Grimketil glanced towards the royal pavilion, and the look on Offa’s face did not bode well.
‘Trouble tonight for you then!’ she laughed. ‘On the other hand, Hengist is really looking forward to this evening. More than any other evening in his life perhaps. Do you want to know why?’
Grimketil’s brows furrowed.
‘Why?’ he asked.
‘Because he and Wulfwynn are finally going to be together at last. They’re going to get married as soon as you’re dead and gone.’
His face twisted in fury, and he aimed another cut to the right side of her head.
‘I’m not gone just yet!’ he snarled.
Rowena parried, then slid her sword down his blade towards the hilt. The basket of her own sword protected her hand, but Grimketil’s quillons did nothing against such an attack. The edge of her blade easily severed the tendons on the back of his hand and his sword tumbled to the grass.
He looked at it in disbelief, before raising his face to look at her.
‘Yes you are!’ she said, slashing her sword across his throat, severing his neck from one side to the other as far back as his spine. His lips parted slightly, the light faded from his eyes and he fell.
‘I’ve never before seen that literally happen.’ observed Marwig.
‘What do you mean?’ asked the Queen.
‘A man falling on his sword.’ smiled Marwig.
20 The aftermath
Happy that Melody was being taken care of, Wulfstan collected his fighters, and led them up to the foot of the royal pavilion, where they all bowed to the King.
‘I believe I have won the bet Your Majesty.’ said Wulfstan.
‘And handily at that!’ replied the King, who’d stood up to greet them. ‘A stunning display, absolutely stunning.’
‘Well done most beloved son.’ said the Queen, coming down to kiss him on the cheek.
‘Yes. Well done little brother.’ offered Ecgfrith, his face curiously lacking in warmth.
Wulfstan smiled warmly enough for both of them. ‘Thank you big brother.’
Then he saw Grimhild hovering shyly off to his right with her family. He beckoned her over.
‘Father, I’d like you to meet Grimhild. She has a very special present for you.’
“Really?’ asked the King, looking at the slip of a girl walking timorously towards them, a roll of velum in her hand.
When she reached them, she mutely offered it up to Wulfstan, but he smiled and said. ‘No, I think you should give it to him yourself. You made it. You’ve earned the right.’
Her face filled with awe, the little girl held out the roll to Offa.
‘Thank you.’ he said, still perplexed.
‘Open it father.’ said Wulfstan, resting his hands gently on Grimhild’s shoulders and giving them a comforting squeeze.
The King untied the ribbon, and unfurled the vellum. It was completely filled with writing. He looked up at Wulfstan, perplexed, as he was unable to read.
‘Perhaps the Archbishop would be good enough to read it to you?’ suggested Wulfstan.
Jaenberht, still smarting from Cuthbert’s arrow, took it from the King and started to read. It was an account of the fight they’d all just watched. The King turned back to Wulfstan, stunned.
‘But how is this possible?’ he demanded.
Wulfstan pointed at Grimhild.
‘Grimhild wrote it, live, as the battle played out. I placed her up on the highest corner so she’d have the best view, and she wrote it all down as it happened.'
‘But she’s just a child! And no cleric! And a girl come to that!’ expostulated the Archbishop.
‘Well spotted Archbishop! Correct on all three points.’ agreed Wulfstan, then addressed the King once more.
‘I’ve opened up a school father, teaching children, and some adults, how to read, how to write, how to count, and sing, and many other things. When my students are ready, they will open schools of their own, and you will have access to your own scribes and counters throughout the Kingdom.’
‘He already has that!’ Jaenberht interrupted with some heat. ‘The Church does all that for him already!’
‘So it does.’ bowed Wulfstan. ‘But I know how busy you all are with the important religious affairs of the Church. It doesn’t seem fair to take their efforts away to the mundane and prosaic matters of the real world. And of course, there are times when the interests of the Church and the interests of the Crown are not aligned, and they are vexed with each other. It would be no bad thing for the King to know he has control over his own accounts… his own laws as they are written down… and of course, his own history, in such… trying times.'
The light dawned in Offa’s eyes at just what Wulfstan was offering him. He looked down at Grimhild again.
‘And this young woman is your first?’
Wulfstan nodded.
‘Along with the other members of her family, and of course all of my fine warriors here too.’
The King stepped forward and put his arms around Wulfstan. ‘That my boy, may end up being the finest gift of all. Thank you! Although,’ he said, knocking his knuckles against Thomas’s breastplate, still hidden underneath his tunic, ‘we have yet more to discuss I think!’
Then he stepped back and announced to the crowd.
‘Let the celebrations commence!’
A huge cheer went up, and most of the crowd moved slowly off to get the party started. Tamworth would celebrate till dawn, and there was a lot of day to go before night fell to start with!
Offa laid a mighty hand on his son’s shoulder.
‘Is there anything I can do to make amends for misjudging you so badly?’ he asked softly. ‘Anything at all?’
Wulfstan looked up into his eyes and said. ‘I would like to ask for just one thing father.’
Ecgfrith watched him carefully, his eyes narrowing as he anticipated the demand he feared to hear.
Wulfstan beckoned to Hengist, who was out at the far left of Wulfstan’s villagers, hand in hand with Wulfwynn.
‘I would like you to restore Hengist to his rightful place, and let him and Wulfwynn marry as soon as possible. Tonight, if we can make it happen. They have been kept apart for too long.’
Offa looked at him in disbelief.
‘That’s it?’
Wulfstan nodded.
‘That’s
all father.’
Offa shook his head and beckoned Hengist to come to him.
‘My son has consistently told me since the… incident… that you were not at fault. He has stood by you, and you have stood by him. He could have asked for anything at all and I would have given it to him, and all he asks for is for you to be restored. If you can install that kind of loyalty in my son, then you must indeed be a fine man. I restore you to your title and estates.’
Then he smiled.
‘I’ll even give you a pound of silver as a wedding present!’
Hengist bowed.
‘Thank you Your Majesty!’
The King and Queen then led the royal party off towards the palace, where their own feast was waiting. The Archbishop didn’t look at Wulfstan as he walked past, but Marwig gave him a huge wink. Then Wulfstan spotted a familiar face in the small group of spectators who hadn’t rushed off to the beer and food.
‘Ethelwulf! Where have you been?’
His childhood friend ran up and embraced him heartily.
‘Where have you been?’ repeated Wulfstan. ‘I missed you!’
Ethelwulf looked embarrassed.
‘Have you any idea just how difficult it’s been to get anywhere near you and your people?’ I tried and tried, but the guards wouldn’t let me in!’
‘Well, you’re here now, and you’re coming to the feast with us.’ Wulfstan insisted.
There was a gentle pull at his sleeve.
‘What’s going to happen to us now?’ asked a very worried Gundy, tears welling up in her eyes. ‘I mean you’ve won and everything. Does that mean you’re going away now?’
Wulfstan looked around at the anxious faces of the rest of her family, and the other villagers. He held up his hand.
‘Everyone please relax. Hengist has his manor back, but that doesn’t mean everything we’ve been doing comes to an end. We’ll have to work some things out, but everything’s going to be just fine for you all. I promise! We’re going to finish what we’ve started.’
‘And us Your Highness? What have you decided is to happen to each of us?’ asked Rowena.
Wulfstan gave her his warmest smile.
‘Well, you have your freedom as of this minute, so each of you can decide to do whatever you want. When the King gives me the silver for those clocks, you’ll each have a pound of it, which will set you up for life.’
He looked around the coterie. Their heads were nodding, but there were no smiles, so he continued.
‘Of course, I would rather that none of you left me at all… If you were still slaves, I wouldn’t ever part with any one of you. You are all dear to my heart, and I love you deeply. But I no longer own you, so you have the freedom to leave, and I’ll give my blessing to anyone who does.’
‘So…’ said Freawaru. ‘We can stay if we want to? That’s an option too?’
‘Absolutely!’ said Wulfstan.
Suddenly there were smiles all round, and much patting each other on the back. Rowena laughed.
‘Then I don’t think you’ll ever be rid of us!’
‘Hurrah!’ shouted Oscar.
‘Hurrah!’ shouted the rest of the village.
‘And a big hurrah from me too!’ cried Wulfstan. ‘Come on everyone, let’s celebrate!’
✽✽✽
Meanwhile, in Wulfstan’s room, Thomas was keeping an anxious vigil over Melody as she lay in bed. Her breathing was, if anything, a little shallower than before, and he was worried that she wasn’t going to recover. But there was something else. The golden glow was brighter than ever.
Slowly, cautiously, a woman’s head pushed out from Melody’s body, and looked around. Whoever it was, it wasn’t Melody, because it looked nothing like her.
Suddenly she saw him, her eyes widened in alarm, and she began to retreat back into the body.
‘It’s alright.’ said Thomas gently. ‘You’re perfectly safe. I’m the Prince’s man. My name’s Thomas. What’s yours?’
*** To be continued ***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
K.T. Findlay lives on a small farm where he dovetails his writing with fighting the blackberry, and convincing the quadbike that killing its rider isn’t a core part of its job description.
Also By K.T. Findlay
A Thoughtful Woman
AUTHOR Website
www.ktfindlay.com