Star of Mercia : $b historical tales of Wales and the Marches — John Shaqi
Star of Mercia : $b historical tales of Wales and the MarchesDevereux, Blanche
General
Star of Mercia : $b historical tales of Wales and the Marches
Devereux, Blanche
Herefordshire (England) -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Short stories; Shropshire (England) -- Fiction; Wales -- Fiction
We sped to our gates, but he was already ahorse, with her before him,
holding to him tightly, and his men were springing to their saddles.
Out at the gates they streamed, and we after them, into the midst of
Leominster town, where they halted a little while. What a sight was
there upon Leominster green! Small wonder that the folk thronged to
stare! There were the sisters of blessed Benedict, running hither and
thither as they were wode, all shrieking, some laughing, most wailing
and calling upon all the saints: there lame old Father Godmund,
snuffling and chiding all unheeded; in the midst of all, Sweyn the
Earl, with his Danish house-carles about him, marking naught, it
seemed, but a loose nail in his horse's shoe. Suddenly, one Sister
Sexburh, who had been ever greedy after gold and jewels and such light
things of the world, cried with a loud voice:
"What, good sisters! bide ye here when the road lies open before you?
What of the flock when the shepherdess is fled? Must we ever waste
within walls?" And picking up her kirtle with one hand, she set off
swiftly down the high-way, with Offa the drunken thane in her wake.
But of all that there befell--to my shame I own it--I heard no more,
for now Earl Sweyn set his horse's head towards Hereford, and with him
was Algive with her arms about him; and I had no more thought of the
Abbey of Leominster, of my holy oath of profession, of the needy I was
wont to feed and clothe and the sick I was wont to heal; but I ran
until I came up with Sweyn's horse, catching at his stirrup and calling
out:
"Leave me not, leave me not! Take me also, Lord Earl!"
Sweyn made sign to one of his men that rode beside him, who, stooping,
lifted me into his saddle before him, and so was I borne along,
following Earl Sweyn and my Lady Algive.
* * * * *
From that day forth was Earl Sweyn forced to flee from shire to shire.
For wheresoever he would go, the noise of his sacrilege sped before
him. All priests of God cried out upon him throughout the length and
breadth of the land; and of the folk, the most did shun the Earl, and
curse the whole brood of Godwin.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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