A King's Comrade: A Story of Old HerefordWhistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts)
History
A King's Comrade: A Story of Old Hereford
Whistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts)
Ethelbert, Saint, -794 -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Offa, King of the Mercians, -796 -- Fiction
So we left Norwich, and rode across the moorlands to find the king;
and the gladness of homecoming grew on me every day, so that I
longed for the state affair to be over, that I might turn my
horse's head south and west for my own home. And thus, in all
gladness, and joying in every mile of the way, we came to Thetford,
strong with its earthen ramparts above its still river, and were
made most welcome at the hall of Ethelbert the king. There had gone
messengers before us to tell of our coming, and the greeting was
fitting for the men of Carl the Great.
Truly I saw the Franks smile at one another as we were led into the
great hall, homely and pleasant, with its open timbered roof and
central hearth, arms and antlers and heads of forest game on walls,
and bright hangings round the high place at the upper end; for it
was but a hut compared with the palaces of their own master. But
when Ethelbert the king came from his chamber to greet us, they had
no eyes for aught but him. Young and handsome and free of speech
and look as he was, none could doubt that here was one who was
worthy of his throne, for in every way he seemed a king indeed. He
minded me of Ecgbert, and if he did that, it may be certain that I
need add no more to my praise of him.
Now it happened that the day after we reached Thetford was a
Sunday, and I need not tell what a pleasure it was to me to hear
again the old English services that once I had thought so long, as
a boy will. And on that day, for the first time, it came to me that
my man, Erling the viking, was a stark heathen, Odin's man. Truly
he came to the church with me, and there he stood and stared at all
that went on, quietly and reverently enough, but in such wise that
I thought that he had somewhere seen the like before. So presently
when we came forth from the church I asked him if he had no
knowledge of the faith.
"Ay," he said; "I have helped to burn a church or two in my time,
and now I am sorry therefor. I have heard good words in this place,
so that I think I know why you were ready to risk gold to free a
captive. Let me go with you again."
"I will find some good priest who shall tell you more and teach
you," said I.
But he shook his head.
"That is another matter," he answered. "Let be for a time. I am
content to go your way and see what it is; but no man, if he is
worth aught, will leave the gods of his fathers offhand, not even
for the faith which is good for you and for Carl the king, and this
king here who has death written on his handsome face."
"What mean you by that?" I asked, almost angrily. "On the face of
Ethelbert?"
"Ay," he answered. "Cannot you see it?"
"Seldom have I seen a stronger or more healthy man! This is sheer
foolishness."
"I do not speak of health," he answered. "Eh, well, we of the old
race have the second sight now and then. On my word, I wish I had
it not. Pay no heed to me an you will; it is best not."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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