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
Then the queen rose and came to meet her son with a smile and
morning greeting, setting her hands on his shoulder and kissing
him, and so turned to me as if to ask Ethelbert to say who I was.
And when she heard, I knelt and kissed the hand she held to me; and
my shyness went, for I was no longer at a loss for somewhat to
think of besides myself. I suppose the king or queen made some sign
at this time, for the ladies rustled back to their seats, and their
pleasant talk began again as if we were not present, only so low
that it was like the murmur of the bees outside as we came past the
hives.
Now the queen asked me just a question or two of my journey--if the
crossing had been rough, and so on, and then said smiling:
"But you have had another journey since then, and that handsome
horse of yours bore a double burden, they tell me. Here is the Lady
Hilda, who would thank you for somewhat you did for her."
She beckoned, and a lady rose up from the window seat near by and
came forward. Truly I had to look twice before I was quite sure
that this was she, for here was a wonderfully stately young lady,
clad in white and gold and blue, all unlike the maiden who had
clung to her father as we rode yestereven. And if I had thought her
fair then, I saw now that she was the fairest of all those who
attended this homely and kindly-faced queen. She held out her hand
to me, and I bent and kissed it; and on the white wrist I saw the
blue marks of the clutch of the wild men, which made a great wrath
rise in my heart straightway. Yet I must say somewhat or seem
mannerless.
"You have fared none the worse for your ride, lady?" I said. "I
fear you were weary."
"I am black and blue with the claws of those folk," she said,
laughing ruefully; "they were grimy also. But I meant to try to
thank you for much kindness."
She blushed somewhat, and I made haste to say that I was happy to
have served her in aught. But I would not have her forget my
comrades.
"Ay, they helped you," she said; "I had not forgotten. And I had
the cloak of one of them. Will you thank him for it?"
I said that I would, and added words about Werbode's pleasure in
the loan, and so on. One could not say much with all those eyes on
us, as it were, if I had had much to say. I was glad when the king
took up the talk and asked after the welfare of the lady.
"I have sent men across that heath," he said; "at least they will
see to those who fell of your party. I hope they may bring back
some not much hurt after all. A fall from a horse will not be of
much account after half an hour."
But she shook her head and paled, for, as her father had told me,
his men who had fallen were not mounted. The king saw that the
matter was hard for her to think of, and so turned the talk by
asking how she liked that steed of mine.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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