by Smith, Skye
"He is my uncle's half brother," said Judith with a wide smile. She had always hated Odo. Only her affair with William's eldest son Robert had saved her young body from corruption by him. "I will not give the order to kill him out of respect for my uncle."
"Why not?" grimaced Raynar. He could not understand her reluctance. This man had caused the death of many English women. This was the perfect opportunity. Who could blame her for ordering his death. Such an order from a widow could be justified even to her uncle. Especially to her uncle. "He has already threatened you with excommunication and the noose. One word and he chokes on this arrow and dies with not another word."
Suddenly the Bishop's stern countenance melted as his own fear of unshriven damnation overwhelmed him. He seemed to deflate in front of their eyes, like a bullfrog after it croaks. "Judith, I did not recognize you. I thought this a ruse by the rebels to gain the body of a traitor. Forgive my rash words."
No one on Saint Giles hill believed a word of what he said. Not the crowd, not his own guard, and certainly not the Countess and her escort.
"Bring the body," she ordered into the crowd and men rushed to the church to retrieve it. The bishop died an inner death for every minute they were delayed, though it was not many moments before a stretcher bearing the body and the head were lowered to the ground between the bishop and the countess.
"Look on him, Bishop Odo," she said pointing. She was shocked herself, for with the black ooze washed away and with his clothing straightened, Waltheof looked as if he had lived but a moment ago. "What do you see?" She waited for an answer. There was none. "I see, and they see," she waved her hand over the crowd "a man dead almost two weeks, and still looking lifelike. The abbot says that the Lord of us all has kept him fresh until the innocent is properly buried. Well bishop, what does the church say?"
Odo was now not only facing instant death by an arrow, but also an indictment from the God he so feared. He lost all his reserve. For the first time in many years he was truly praying.
"Bishop, you have wronged this man, you have wronged me, and you have wronged his children who will now never be taught by him how to live. God has shown your judgment was wrong, but no one can bring back the dead. Do you swear that you will help this abbot to build a shrine to house the body, and to encourage pilgrims to visit it. Be warned that your answer may be choked off by an arrow."
"I so swear it, Judith."
"Sworn on the Lord's miracle at your feet."
"I so swear it."
"Then I forgive you Odo of Bayeux, and I hope the shrine and my forgiveness will save you from burning in hell, but I doubt it. Now throw the abbot your purse so that he can begin his work, and then take your guards and be gone."
Odo looked towards the lead bowman and for the first time saw the face, and recognized it from somewhere. He reached slowly for his purse and dropped it next to the corpse. The bowman facing him did not move save to keep the point of his arrow aimed. The guard, eager be out of range of the stretched bows, were now quick to leave. The aides that had come with Odo prepared to let him ride before them so that they could shield his back with their own.
"Bishop," Raynar spoke with a tone of venom, "you have forgotten to thank this woman for your life, and believe me, you were dead but for her forgiveness. I trust you will repay her generosity when her petitions reach you."
Odo stopped his horse, and turned to face Judith, while ignoring the rude bowman who, surprisingly, was speaking to him in courtly French. "Judith, I assume that these are some of the outlaw bowmen that DeLacy has warned me about. Next time you come to Winchester, bring a more normal escort. Leave them on your land to watch the sheep." He bowed his head to her, "yes, I did say your land." He turned his horse and walked it away. His aides fell in behind him.
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Once they were gone, the countess asked some of the bowmen to help the abbot wrap the corpse in hemlock leaves and cloth, and then sacking. A pack horse was brought near and the body shaped package was loaded over the saddle and strapped down.
"We should leave, quickly" said Raynar, "before we have Odo's agents after us."
One of the original diggers heard his words and moved closer to Raynar and whispered. "For another two coins I will show you a secret way north that will hide you from the Normans. It goes passed a temple of the ancients. Christians have left the path to disuse, for they fear the spirits of the ancients."
Raynar nodded and yelled for another pack horse to be brought forwards for the man. They were gone from Saint Giles hill in moments. An hour later they entered a wood, and the forest men relaxed, and slowed their pace. Judith sidled her mount closer to Raynar, "So Walt was innocent, then?"
"He was guilty, there was no question, but others were forgiven who were more guilty."
"But the miracle."
"The bog gas is poisonous. It kills all life, all vermin, and all corruption. His body did not bloat because it had no head to trap the corpse gasses." Raynar explained. "But it does not matter if it was a miracle or not, so long as the abbot, and the guards, and the crowd all believe. If they believe, then a bishop must laud it as a miracle. The first rule of a rich temple is to encourage their sheep to believe in magic."
"If I had said to kill him..." she began.
"He would be dead now. I wanted so much for you to say those words. Odo is the embodiment of everything evil on this earth."
She shuddered, as if cold and then, instead, felt a warm glow. So this was the feeling of power. She thought back and visualized her men aiming death at Odo and his men. At that moment she had the power of a goddess. The power to kill many with one word. "When we get home, I want to learn weapons." she said.
"Ask for instruction from the Frisian maids that Beatrice has sent you to care for your children. They are trained in weapons. I myself taught them archery. That was why Beatrice chose them. Well, for that and for their marvelous tits." He looked at the question on Judith's face. "These are dangerous times. Those maids are pretty enough to beguile any man who may have threatened the children, and skilled enough in fighting to kill him when the first chance arose."
"For Beatrice to ensure that my children are so well guarded, she must believe that my son will become an Earl."
"No, love, Waltheof was the last. The last English Earl."
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THE END of the Revolt of the Earls.
The adventures continue in The Hoodsman - Forest Law
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The Hoodsman - Revolt of the Earls by Skye Smith Copyright 2010-13
