Great Britain -- History -- Stephen, 1135-1154 -- Fiction; Murder -- Fiction; Revenge -- Fiction; Serfs -- Fiction
"Just truth, Cerdic, though indeed I shall not tell all the truth. I
shall tell how my good comrades died, and how I did win to land with you
two, and left you by the mere. I shall tell Lord Fulke that I could not
over-come you, for that you were two to my one, and eke armed. That you
saved me from the water I must not say, though well I should like to do
so. They would think that I was in league with you, and had failed in my
duty, if I said anything to your credit."
"Without doubt," said Hyla.
"You are right, Huber. But I do not look to see Hilgay again."
"And I pray that you never may, friend, for your end would be a very
terrible and bloody one. And now hear me. You have taken me to your
hearts that did come to use you shamefully. My life is your gift, and I
will save pennies that prayer may be made for you by some priest that
you be kept from harm, and win quiet and safety. Moreover, never will I
do ill to any serf again, for your sakes. For you are good and true men,
and have my love. Often I shall remember you and the lake and all that
has come about, when I am far away. And give me your hand and say
farewell, and Lord Christ have you safe."
They said the saddest of all human words, "farewell," and turning he
left them. The big boat moved slowly away among the reeds until it was
hidden from their sight. Once they thought they heard his voice in a
distant shout of farewell, and they called loudly in answer, but there
was no response but the lapping of the water on the reeds.
"A true man," said Hyla sadly.
"I think so," said Cerdic, "and there are many like him also. We have
never known them, or they us, but chance has changed that for once.
Nevertheless I am not sorry he has gone. We are of one kind and he of
another, and best apart. Let us set out round the lake; we have a long
task before us, and I fear dangerous."
They gathered up their fishing lines and the remaining fish, which they
had cooked for their journey, and set out upon it.
They were full of hope and courage, resolute to surmount the perils and
difficulties which were before them, and yet, all innocent of fate, one
was going to a sudden death and the other was moving towards an
adventure which would end in death and torture also.
It is surely a very good and wise ordering of affairs, that we do not
often have a warning of what shall shortly befall us. Only rarely do we
feel the cold air from the wings of Death beat upon our doomed faces.
Now and then, indeed, we get a glimpse of those unseen principalities
and powers by whom we are for ever surrounded. Women in child-birth
have, so it is said, seen an angel bearing them the new soul they are
going to give to the world, as God's messenger came to Our Lady of old
time.
More often the black angel, who is to take us from one life to another,
presses upon a man's brain that he may know his near translation.
Visions are given to men who have lived as men should live, and have
beaten down Satan under their feet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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