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3 UNWELCOME VISITORS
‘The chamberlain to see you, my lord king,’ announced the herald from the hall entrance. ‘And with him he brings his eldest daughter.’
Godiva followed her father into the hall. Almost empty apart from the king, the queen, the archbishop, and their attendants on the dais, it was a vast, echoing, unfriendly place. She had only ever seen it during state banquets, when it roared with laughter and conversation, and bright torches chased away the oppressive shadows.
Elmund halted five feet from the throne, and Godiva stood behind him.
King Offa stroked his long white beard and stared down at them, his face solemn. Cynethryth stood beside him, surveying the father and the daughter. Her expression was unreadable, but Godiva shivered as she caught the queen’s cold gaze.
‘My lord king,’ said Elmund with a cough. ‘Thane Oswald’s actions leave my family in something of a quandary.’
Offa nodded, but it was his queen who answered.
‘Your daughter’s betrothal?’ she asked. Her voice was light but her eyes were hard.
Elmund nodded. ‘Indeed,’ he replied. ‘Oswald was a promising young man. I understood, lord king, that you were intending to reward his courage against the Welsh with a large estate…’
Offa scowled. ‘I can’t understand how such a decent-seeing lad like him could do something so evil - and so foolish,’ he said petulantly. ‘That boy had a good life ahead of him, and now he’s thrown it all away.’
Cynethryth shot her husband a glance that he failed to catch. Elmund cleared his throat.
‘My sympathies, are, of course, with the king,’ he said heavily. ‘But my daughter’s future is now in some jeopardy. It is important that she marries well, to forge fresh alliances amongst the noble families of your realm. I seek your advice on a suitable match for her.’
Godiva frowned. Did she not have the right to choose her man? Oswald’s actions had left her bewildered, and she was in no mind to let another court her - she still loved Oswald, and she could never be happy with anyone else.
Cynethryth had noticed her expression. ‘Perhaps the girl is not ready to accept a new betrothal,’ she said quietly. ‘And since the court will be moving to its summer quarters soon, we will all be too busy to prepare such an important matter.’ Godiva looked up, surprised. The queen seldom showed any interest in the affairs of others. ‘What do you have to say, girl?’ the queen asked.
Godiva’s heart beat quickly as all eyes turned on her. She stepped forward, nervous, and stared at the ground.
‘I… I am not ready for it, my lady,’ she whispered huskily. She looked up suddenly, and Cynethryth smiled at her.
Her father coughed again, embarrassed.
‘Of course, my dear, we all feel the deepest of sympathies for you. But you must understand that it is important for your family - one of the highest in the land - that your marriage is one that benefits the kingdom as a whole. We must locate a new husband for you as soon as can be. If we go ahead and let you sulk about Oswald,’ he added in an undertone, ‘you might be past marrying by the time you’ve finished.’
‘You don’t care about my feelings at all!’ she cried.
Her words boomed back at her from the roof beams, and she shrank as everyone stared at her. ‘I loved Oswald,’ she added in a murmur.
Cynethryth turned to the king.
‘None of you understand this poor girl’s feelings, it’s true,’ she said loudly. ‘I know how she feels. I have felt the same - betrayed, and abandoned by a loved one. But while I, when I was set adrift in a rudderless boat, had the luck to be cast ashore in your kingdom where you took me under your wing, lord husband, young Godiva has yet to find safe harbour.’
Godiva had heard the story. How the queen had been born a princess of the royal court of the Franks; how she had suffered betrayal, slander, and lies that led to the nobles of the kingdom casting her adrift on the high seas as an exile. The boat was wrecked on the coast of Lindsey, where a swineherd had found her, and took her to court where Offa had taken care of her, later marrying her.
But although she too had been cast aside by a loved one - if that was what Oswald had meant to do when he fled from her - she was not sure she wanted an alternative husband. Not yet. Perhaps never!
Cynethryth, who had paused to see the effect of her words, spoke again.
‘Perhaps it would be better that she becomes the bride of a greater lord,’ she murmured. Godiva frowned. Maybe Cynethryth hadn’t understood her… What greater lord? How could she love another man more than she loved Oswald?
Offa was also indignant.
‘Don’t know what you mean, woman,’ he barked. ‘Unless you’re thinking of marrying her off to Egfrid here - and that’s a fate to which I wouldn’t subject any woman of my kingdom.’
The king-in-waiting scowled darkly from the side of the dais. None had believed him when he returned empty-handed from his pursuit of Oswald, talking wildly of monsters lurking in the forest. He was in disgrace.
‘No, I’m saving him to marry to the daughter of some political opponent,’ Offa added spitefully. ‘That’ll fox them. Not sure if it’ll be Wessex or Northumbria yet - maybe somewhere further afield…’
Cynethryth cut through his mutterings.
‘I mean an even higher lord than your son,’ she said. ‘Let her take up holy orders. Let her become a nun.’
Godiva’s eyes widened. That was the last thing she wanted! Her father spluttered as much from beside her.
‘A nun?’ he barked. ‘What good will that do the family?’
‘She may become an abbess,’ said Cynethryth quietly. ‘Consider the power that would give her.’
Power, yes, thought Godiva. But she would find it hard to carry on the dynasty… Was the queen trying to get her out of the way somehow? she wondered suddenly. But no, there could be no reason for that.
‘My wife’s right,’ said Offa. ‘I’ve got my youngest lined up to become an abbess myself. Elmund, old fellow, you should have got yourself a few sons. That’s how you ensure the family line. Even if they’re chinless wonders like my own lad.’
Egfrid glowered but said nothing.
‘I fail to see how sending my daughter to a nunnery could benefit anyone,’ Elmund persisted. ‘It is imperative that she gets a good marriage to a fine man.’ He coughed, and glanced uneasily at Archbishop Higbert. ‘Not that the Lord is not a fine man, of course…’ he added hurriedly. ‘Nevertheless, I think…’
Godiva listened angrily to their plans for her future. She didn’t want to become a nun - but she didn’t want an arranged marriage for the good of the kingdom, either. She wanted Oswald. Why had he done what he had done? It was so unlike him - what had possessed him? He must have been mad to insult the queen so.
Wanly, she wondered what he would be doing now. Did he even live still? Was he squatting in a ditch somewhere, sheltering under the forest eaves, living off the food he could scavenge…? The life of an outlaw was a cold and lonely one.
Oh, but if only she could be beside him.
The Sword of Wayland Page 16