“I have an idea on how to solve this problem,” Dr. Rice said close to the General’s ear. The doctor had obviously been watching as well.
“I would truly love to hear it,” Peebles replied with a tilt of his head. “My heart goes out to him, it really does.”
Rice spent the next few moments sharing his idea and the next hour trying to convince the reluctant General. Loud, deep singing interrupted their discussion as a large contingent of the Ealdorman’s men suddenly appeared out of the surrounding darkness. All the men in the group were carrying torches and singing heartily as they led a team of horses pulling a small flatbed wagon. It took a moment for the group to come into the light but when it did Peebles noticed that it carried a wicker cage that held a ragged, crazed prisoner. Both the General and his men were shocked by the condition of the man in the wagon. He was dirty, bruised, and bleeding from dozens of small wounds. He was entirely naked within his small wooden cage. His eyes darted about wildly; hoping where there could be no hope. The huscarls stopped the cart near the fire but continued to sing for several long minutes. When the song was done they quickly pulled the wicker cage off the wagon, tumbling it and its prisoner end over end. The Ealdorman laughed and Sir Eadwulf smiled expectantly.
“Tis time for ye, Ubba of Fyn, to pay for the blood on yor hands,” the Ealdorman announced loudly, bloodlust plain in his eyes and the crowd immediately grew still and silent.
General Peebles stood immediately, as did Rice, Lemay, and all the other soldiers.
“Sir Ealdorman, I ask you again to put aside this madness of revenge,” Peebles pleaded softly, but still his voice carried over the excited crowd.
The Ealdorman looked at his new friend and frowned, as did Sir Eadwulf, his knights and everyone in the vicinity. Peebles quickly scanned the crowd but saw no allies, even the eyes of the Lady Merwinna were filled with the excitement of the coming execution.
“Very well,” the General finally said, defeated and disgusted, “but please allow me and my men to remove ourselves from your folly.” And with that all of the Americans marched away from the crowds now cheering for the fire, but Rice, joined by Father Gillian, stopped directly before the Ealdorman, and his wife.
“And I’ve called you my friends,” he said softly, his disapproval very apparent. The Lady Merwinna sobered for a moment, but the normally jolly Ealdorman did not.
“Tis on his own head. Methinks we did na sail to his land to kill him and his. He brought death to ours, and we bring death back to him...tis the way of things.”
Rice sighed, and nodded. “It seems it will always be the way of things,” he added and left with Father Gillian in tow. However, on the edge of camp they picked up the Earl of Mercia, an unlikely civilized friend.
“Methinks to join thee. I have na the stomach for such things na more,” he said by way of explanation and his simple statement lightened the heart of Peebles and all of his men. Still a strange, dark chanting rose from the meadow below and washed over them before they reached the Hall. The exultant voices singing the dark song were soon accompanied by the discordant, terrified screams of a burning man.
§
Back in his room, the Earl slowly pulled off his boots and stretched his legs out before the fire, wiggling his freed toes before the heat with a sigh. As he aged, his feet seemed to be cold always, and he wished that his wife, the Lady Æthelflæd, was here to rub some life back into them, but he was alone. He’d sent his older son back to Mercia, and Leoforic was with Dr. Rice. The boy was always with Dr. Rice these days, but for some reason that did not bother the Earl over much. Dr. Rice was a good man. He shook his head remembering the wonder of the new baby cut from his mother’s body...incredible. He drank some wine and moved his chair just a bit closer to the fire, his feet nearly in the flames, but the warmth felt almost divine. Æthelred smiled with satisfaction and closed his eyes, not rocking, not thinking. It was good not to think, to just relax and float. He was asleep in minutes, and did not wake up until his throat was sliced open from ear to ear, but then his eyes flew open. He was instantly awake. He tried to raise his hands to the wound, but they were pinned to the arms of the chair. His eyes darted about, his vision already growing cloudy and jerky, hard to control, but he saw the men, his killers, Eadric and Lochlin, Eadwulf’s men. Out of the dim corner of his eye he saw blood, his blood, pumping out into the air. As he watched, the squirts of blood seemed to pulse slower and slower, as if time were coming to an end. Then Captain Lochlin leaned into his field of view and smiled. The man moved his lips but Sir Æthelred could not hear very well. He was having a hard time concentrating as darkness began to creep into his peripheral vision…and sadly his feet were growing very cold again.
“Lord Eadwulf was wantin’ ye to see this afore ye died,” he finally made out. Æthelred was growing very tired. But then Lochlin held up his prize. It took a long moment before the Earl recognized it as the severed head of his eldest boy, Æthelstan. ‘Me boy, me beloved boy,’ his mind cried, but the Earl did not have time to become angry as the last of his life ebbed out of him. With a laugh like a bark, Captain Lochlin rammed a knife deep into the Earl’s chest and then quickly kissed the dead man’s cheek. He laughed again. He knew the Earl would have been surprised to see that the knife was not Lochlin’s, nor was it Eadwulf’s or Eadric’s, but in fact belonged to Sir Oldalf, chief knight of the Ealdorman’s. ‘Twas a lovely trick. Eadwulf was always one ahead of everyone else.’
“Come let’s pull him to his bed…and throw that thing in the river,” Eadric said nervously, referring to the boy’s severed head. He shivered, though not from the killing or the blood, he had seen enough of both. The strangers, the Ammericaans, they made him nervous with their magic helms, and he grew suddenly anxious that they had the power to peer through the thick walls of the manor hall and see just what he was up to. So they dragged the Earl to his bed and dropped him on top of the quilts, then retrieved the head of his son and stuffed it back into its bag. Lochlin was still chuckling as they left.
The next morning the sun rose with all of its glory on a simply beautiful day. The blue sky was cloudless and the air was crisp and clean, but Matt was oblivious to his surroundings as he made his way to the ship. He was a dead man, numb to the world, numb to everything, and knew deep in his heart that he could not go on like this much longer. He stopped walking, wavering a bit where he stood, suddenly dizzy. Carefully he made his way to the giant oak, which stood like a sentinel near the front of the ship, and leaned against it. He did not feel the coarse bark against his cheek; he did not feel the cool breeze in his hair. Finally he sat down, legs bent up, arms resting on his knees. He sat and thought, nothing overly structured, he just let his mind drift over his problems, and then back to Ellyn. He couldn’t leave her. He would be a wreck of a man if he did, and hardly fit for duty aboard the ship, but if he backed out, how then would he feel toward Ellyn in the years to come when the flame of love died to a warm smolder. Would he resent her? Despise her for keeping from him his life’s destiny? The questions went round and round with no definite answers forthcoming.
After nearly an hour he felt better, at least in control of his faculties, and stood once more.
“Major Thane,” Private Starling shouted, running up to him. “The General wants you in his quarters pronto.”
Matt frowned as Starling ran off in the opposite direction, and like coming out of a dream he suddenly became aware of the buzz that surrounded the camp and the entire town of Athelney. The air had a morbid excitement to it, which aroused his curiosity. He made his way quickly to the command tent near the center of camp and immediately noticed that two sentries were now posted out front. ‘Something bad has happened,’ he thought as he ducked through the entrance. He stood at attention, his training taking over, and saluted. Peebles returned it, as did Colonel Lemay. Dr. Rice was also present, as were Lee Robertson and Captain Hersey and Leoforic, who was sitting in a chair, bleary-eyed and despondent.
“We have
a situation Major,” Peebles informed Matt immediately. “Sir Æthelred, the Earl of Mercia is dead. Murdered in the night.”
“Oh...” was all Matt could say, completely shocked.
“The Ealdorman informed us less than an hour ago. There were no witnesses.”
“I’d like to get into the room and examine it with Lieutenant Otsaka,” Colonel Lemay mentioned. Otsaka was a detective in the Military Police back before the invasion, and Lemay always fancied himself a fair sleuth, having been hooked on mystery novels since he was a boy.
“Get going then, though I’m sure the locals have already mucked up much of the evidence,” Peebles answered.
“Aye Sir,” Lemay said and quickly left the tent.
“There must be something,” Rice said. “I simply can’t believe that Sir Oldalf was behind it.”
“What!” Matt exclaimed loudly.
Peebles frowned and nodded. “The Ealdorman claims that it was Sir Oldalf’s knife they found buried in the Earl’s chest. The nobles here are already convinced of his guilt. It didn’t help that he left with his family and men early this morning.”
“Left?” Matt asked, rocked again.
“Yes,” Peebles said and moved over to the Major and led him to a chair. Rice was touched by the tender care the General showed. “And I, along with several other people, saw Sir Oldalf arguing with the Earl late last night. It doesn’t look good. Sir Eadwulf is already calling for the man’s head. He sent an urgent message to the King with the news...Sir Æthelred was the King’s brother; he married Alfred’s sister Æthelflæd. Apparently they were very close.”
Matt just sat silent.
“This could make our own situation very sticky,” Rice said. “Sir Æthelred was an ally of ours and would have put in a good word to the King, now all we have is the Ealdorman, a minor dignitary at best, and Sir Eadwulf, who still remains an unknown.”
Matt still said nothing.
“Major...” Peebles said, but he did not respond. “Matt...Matt…snap out of it, Bridgwater is only about ten miles away. It took you what...five minutes by plane to reach it. She didn’t fall off the end of the Earth.”
Matt looked up at his commander. “Ten miles?” he asked then frowned. “What does it matter how far away she is, ten miles or ten light years. It will all be the same soon. Turnbull is becoming optimistic about the ship again. He’s switch his focus to the computers.”
“That’s good,” Peebles said with a large grin. ‘Yes, that is very good,’ he thought, despite recent events he’d never forgotten, not for a minute, that their true mission was the destruction of the Skawps. He shook his head sadly as he watched Matt go back into his shell. The man was very fragile right now, and he decided that he couldn’t leave him in the dark about their decision any longer.
“What do you think?” He asked Rice who was also watching the Major closely. “Should I tell him now?”
“I think that would be very wise,” the Doctor responded and Matt looked up curious.
“Tell me what?” he asked suspiciously.
“My God man,” Peebles barked. “You’re a complete mess. Are you sure you’re fit for duty?”
Matt’s heart jumped and sank in his chest at the very same time. They were going to declare him unfit and replace him on the mission. Perhaps it was a good thing. The decision was too close, too personal for him to make. If he was declared unfit it would leave him with Ellyn, but...the mission. How much did the mission mean to him? Suddenly the image of his former family appeared in his mind’s eye and he knew.
“I’m fit Sir,” he argued and stood up. “I’m committed and ready. Don’t take the mission away from me.”
The General nodded. “Good, I hoped you’d feel that way. No, we’re not taking the mission away from you, but we are going to reassign some of your mates. Turnbull and Wells are going to be taken off mission status.”
Matt was stunned for a moment, both by his own fortune and by the misfortune of his friends. And now he was completely confused. Who was qualified? Granted neither would play an enormous roll. Wells, only at the very end when they launched the nukes, and even then the computers would control the firing and the guidance, Wells would just watch the weapons to make sure nothing went wrong during the trip. Even he admitted that he was hardly needed. Turnbull, though a novice engineer, was a trained paramedic and could be vital, but only if something bad happened on the way, otherwise he was a luxury as well. But who would replace these two, he could not fathom.
“Who?” he asked.
“Well,” Peebles said smiling. “That will really be up to you and Murphy Giles and of course a few psyche evaluations. We…Rice, Lemay, Robertson and I have decided to change the flight plans somewhat and allow you to chose a local to accompany you, a female. Of course the local would have to understand the consequences and agree. We came to the realization that if something were to go wrong here on Earth, if humanities days were indeed numbered on this planet, well then we should have both sexes of the human race safely on the ship...two Adam’s and two Eve’s. It’s another security measure. We’ve already talked it over with both Wells and Turnbull. Naturally they’re disappointed, but they see the logic in our position. It makes since to take as many eggs out of our basket as possible.
Matt was stunned, the idea of Ellyn coming with him had never entered his mind. His heart was pounding with excitement and his palms were sweaty.
“Ellyn?”
Peebles nodded. “If she understands and agrees to the trip, and if Dr. Rice deems her mentally stable enough to complete the journey.” His own heart swelled for Matt; the Major’s happiness was very evident. “But it must be her decision.”
Matt nodded. “Can I go to her?”
Both Peebles and Rice frowned together.
“Let it wait for a day or two Matt,” Rice suggested and put a hand on the Major’s shoulder. “Right now Sir Eadwulf and the rest believe that her father killed the Earl of Mercia. I don’t think it would put us in the best position if we were to immediately send a man off to Bridgwater.”
Matt covered his disappointment well, and understood the reason behind the decision. “All right,” he agreed then smiled. “I best get back to work on the ship now,” he added with a salute and then headed off out of the tent. This time the beauty of the day and the world around him did not go unnoticed.
§
As they’d feared, the crime scene was completely compromised. The Earl had been moved, cleaned up and placed to rest in his bed, plus the knife was missing. With the Ealdorman’s permission, Colonel Lemay and Lieutenant Otsaka were able to clear the room and examine both the Earl and his surroundings. They were joined shortly thereafter by Dr. Rice, who examined the body carefully.
“Where was the Ealdorman found?” Otsaka asked one of the maids, and she pointed to the bed then crossed herself.
“Well, it’s fairly obvious that there were two killing injuries,” Rice said upon completing his work. “The wound at the throat and the wound in the chest, either one could have killed the man.”
“I believe it was the wound at the throat that killed Sir Æthelred,” Otsaka said and motioned Rice over to the fireplace. There was a great deal of blood on the floor, most in a puddle, though some had recently dried. There were signs of blood farther out as if it had been thrown or perhaps squirted from a severed artery.
“I see what you mean,” the doctor agreed. “This is a great deal of blood,” he said and even now he could still easily follow the smeared blood trail back to the bed.
“Yes,” Lemay said. “The maids were going to clean it up, but we forced them to leave it for now. As you can see the killing was here, by the fireplace, but the Earl was found on the bed with Sir Oldalf’s knife sticking out of his chest...an obvious set up. Very clumsy.”
“Yeah, but if Oldalf didn’t kill the Earl, who did?” Rice asked.
“If we had the knife,” Otsaka said, “we may be able to lift some prints off of it. That is as l
ong as it has not been handled too much.”
“Not likely,” Lemay answered and gave one last look at the Earl and then they left the room to the maids.
They found the Ealdorman with his wife, General Peebles, Captain Hersey, Sir Eadwulf, and his knight Sir Eadric.
“Anything?” Peebles asked immediately.
“Yes,” Lemay answered. “It is obvious by the blood trail that the Earl was killed by the fireplace, most likely when his throat was slit. The wound in the chest came later. The murderer…or murderers then dragged the body back to the bed. It’s all fairly clumsy. Sir Oldalf, had he acted alone, would probably not have bothered to drag the body back to the bed.”
Sir Eadric’s heart hammered loudly in his chest. ‘How could these devils know exactly wot went on in the room from just a little blood?’
“Wot do ye mean?” Eadwulf asked, cursing inside. All of his men were fools.
“Well, if Sir Oldalf killed the Earl by slitting his throat, why on Earth would he drag him across the room, hoist the body up on the bed, then stick his knife in his chest and leave it there for everyone to see...it makes no sense.”
The Ealdorman was confused, but it was plain to see that the Lady Merwinna was very pleased and seemed much her old self again this morning. Peebles marveled that this same caring woman, who held herself so regally, could have been the same person with bloodlust in her eyes the night before.
“If’n na Sir Oldalf, then who?” the Ealdorman asked, but before Rice could answer a messenger rushed into the Hall and directly up to Sir Eadwulf. The man was dripping with sweat and stank to high heaven. The General, who believed he was growing accustomed to the smell of the locals, was rocked by the man’s stench and backed away a few steps. Eadwulf snatched up the message and quickly opened it. He read slowly, silently to himself. He looked up happily when finished.
“Tis from the King. He wishes to meet with ye and ten of yor men at me home in Rochester, and will arrive there six days from now,” Eadwulf informed them, and handed the message to Peebles. The General looked it over, but could not make heads or tails of it, and handed it to Dr. Rice, who was fascinated. The writing was very crude and strange, but it was legible…barely, though the doctor spent several moments deciphering the odd spelling. Finally he read the note aloud, confirming Sir Eadwulf’s words.
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