by G. A. Henty
Wulf had been present at the two great events at the abbey and at the banquet, and knew, better than most of those present, that the gravity on Harold’s face was not caused solely by the mighty responsibility that he had assumed, but by sad thoughts in his heart. Wulf on his return from the abbey had handed to Harold a small roll of parchment that had been slipped into his hand by a man, who at once disappeared in the crowd after handing it to him, with the words, “For the king.” In the interval before the banquet he handed this to Harold, who had opened and glanced at it, and had then abruptly turned away. It contained but the words: “That God may bless my dear lord and king is the prayer of Edith.”
“Do you know where she is?” Harold asked abruptly, turning upon Wulf.
“No, my lord.”
“I have respected her wishes and made no inquiry,” the king said. “Others think, doubtless, that I am rejoicing at having gained the object of my ambition, but as God knows, I would far rather have remained Earl of the West Saxons with her by my side than rule over England.”
“I know it, my lord,” Wulf said. “But who beside yourself could rule here?”
“No one,” Harold answered; “and it is for England’s sake and not my own that I have this day accepted the crown. If you can find out where she has betaken herself without making public inquiry I charge you to do so, and to tell her that on this day I have thought mostly of her. Tell me not where she is. What is done cannot be undone, but I would fain that, in the time that is to come, I may at least know where to send her a message should it be needful.”
CHAPTER XIV
WULF’S SUSPICIONS
Beyond the fact that the name of the king had changed, the death of Edward and the accession of Harold made no sensible difference in the government of the southern half of England. Harold had practically reigned for years, and the fact that he was now able to give his orders direct instead of having nominally to consult Edward, had only the effect that the affairs of the state moved somewhat more promptly. Such of the Norman favourites of Edward as desired to leave were permitted to do so, and were honourably escorted to the coast, but many remained. The Norman prelates and abbots retained their dignities undisturbed, and several of the court officials of Edward held the same positions under Harold.
A fortnight after the coronation a party of Norman barons arrived, bearing a summons from Duke William to Harold to fulfil the oath he had sworn to be his man, and also to carry out his engagement to marry one of William’s daughters. They were received with all honour, and Harold informed them that he would, without delay, reply to the duke’s summons. A few days later three thanes of high rank started for Normandy with Harold’s reply. Wulf accompanied them.
“I would that you should go with them, Wulf,” Harold had said to him. “You are too young to be one of my embassy to Duke William, but it would be well that you should form one of the party. The duke knows you and has a liking for you, and possibly may speak more freely to you than to my official messengers. Moreover, you have many acquaintances and friends there, and may gather valuable news as to the feeling in Normandy and the probability of William’s barons embarking in a desperate war for his advantage.”
“I shall be glad to go, my lord.”
“The duke knows well enough what my answer must be. He is aware that were I ready either to resign my kingship to him, or to agree to hold my crown as his vassal, the people of England would laugh to scorn my assumption so to dispose of them, and would assuredly renounce and slay me as a traitor who had broken the oath I swore at my coronation. It is a mere formal summons William makes, as one summons a city to surrender before undertaking its siege. It is but a move in the game. That he will, if he can, strike for the kingdom, I doubt not in any way, but it may well be that his barons will refuse to embark in a war beyond the seas, which is altogether beyond the military service they are bound to render. At any rate, we have breathing time. Vast preparations must be made before he can invade England, and until he is ready we shall have messengers passing to and fro. A few of my chief councillors, the earls and great thanes, refuse to believe that William will ever attempt by force of arms to grasp the crown of England, but for myself I have no doubt he will do so. I shall at once prepare for war; and the first step of all is to unite England from the northern border to the southern sea, so that we may oppose the Normans with our whole strength. This must be my personal work, other matters I must for a time intrust to the earls.”
The train was not a large one. One ship bore the thanes and their attendants from Southampton to Rouen. They were received with all honour at their landing, conducted to a house that had been assigned to their use, and informed that they would be received by the duke on the following day. They had brought their horses with them, and as soon as they were housed Wulf mounted, and attended by Osgod rode to the castle of the De Burgs. Three years had past since he had last been there. He had from time to time received letters and greetings from Guy de Burg by the hands of Normans who visited the court, and knew that although he had gained in health and strength the predictions of the surgeons had been fulfilled, and that he would never be able to take part in knightly exercises or deeds of arms. The warden at the gate had sent in Wulf’s name, and as he alighted a tall young man ran down the steps and embraced him.
“I am overjoyed to see you, Wulf,” he exclaimed. “When we heard that Harold would send over an English embassy to answer the duke’s demands, I hoped that you would be among the number. Harold would be likely to choose you, and I felt sure that you would come over to see me. I had a messenger waiting at Rouen to bring me tidings of the arrival of your ship, and it is scarcely an hour since he rode in with the news that, by inquiries among the servants as they landed, he had learned that you were indeed of the party. But I had hardly looked to see you until tomorrow morning, and had indeed intended to ride over on my palfrey at daybreak.”
“I would not delay, Guy, for the answer we bear will not be to the duke’s liking, and for aught I know he may pack us off again as soon as the interview is ended. Therefore, I thought it best to lose not a moment.”
“I see you have brought your tall retainer with you, Wulf. I am glad to see the stout fellow again. But come in, they will chide me for keeping you so long at the entrance.”
Wulf was warmly received by the baron and his wife. “You are just what I thought you would grow up, Wulf,” the former said. “Indeed your figure was so set and square before, that there was little chance of great alteration. We have heard of you from time to time, and that you distinguished yourself greatly in the war against the Welsh, and stood high in the favour and affection of Harold. Guy has overshot you, you see, in point of height, though he is scarce half your breadth,” and the baron looked with a suppressed sigh at the fragile young fellow, who stood with his hand on Wulf’s shoulder.
“He looks better and stronger than I expected, my lord,” Wulf said. “You must remember when I last saw him he could scarce walk across the room, and in my heart I scarce hoped to ever see him again.”
“He gains strength very slowly,” De Burg said wistfully; “but although he has to be careful of himself, he has no ailment.”
“He could hardly gain strength while growing so fast,” Wulf said; “but now that he has gained his full height he will, doubtless, gather strength, and as three years have done so much for him, another three years will I hope do far more. The Lady Agnes is well, I trust?”
“She is well, and will be here anon,” the baroness said.
Guy laughed with something of his former heartiness. “She was here when the man brought news of your arrival, Wulf, but she fled away like a startled deer, and has, I suppose, gone to put on her best kirtle in your honour.”
As he spoke Agnes entered the room. Considerable as was the change that three years had wrought in the young men, it was still greater in her case, for she had grown from a pretty young girl into a very lovely maiden, whose cheek flushed as she presented it for Wulf
’s salute.
“Would you have known her again, Wulf?” Guy asked with a smile.
“I should certainly have known her, though she has so greatly changed,” Wulf replied. “I thought that you would be grown up and altered, but I scarcely looked for so great an alteration in her, though I might of course have known that it would be so.”
“And now tell me, Wulf,” the baron said, abruptly changing the conversation, “how go things in England—are people united in choosing Harold as their king?”
“The South, the East, and West are as one man,” Wulf said. “Mercia, which comprises the midlands, has accepted the choice. Northumbria has as yet held itself aloof, although its earl has sworn allegiance and its primate has placed the crown on Harold’s head; but in time, I am well assured, the North will also accept him. As I said when we spoke about it after Harold had been tricked into taking an oath to be William’s man, he had no more power to pledge himself for England than I had. Englishmen are free to choose their own king, and as Harold has long been their ruler, their choice naturally fell on him.
“Harold is about to marry the sister of the Earls of Northumbria and Mercia, the widow of Griffith of Wales, and this will, I hope, bind these two powerful nobles to him. The only trouble is likely to come from Tostig, who is, as you know, at the court of Norway. But as he is hated in Northumbria, and the earl and his brother of Mercia both have personal enmity against him, he can gather no following there, while Anglia and Wessex are devoted to Harold. Still he and the King of Norway may cause trouble.”
“The answer of Harold’s ambassadors is, of course, a refusal?”
“Assuredly,” Wulf said. “I do not know the exact import of the reply, as, although I have accompanied them, I am not a member of the embassy, being too young to be intrusted with so weighty a matter. But there can be but one answer. Harold is powerless to carry out his oath. He had the choice of becoming King of England, and thus defending our rights and freedom, or of refusing the crown, in which case he must have fled here, and could have given no aid whatever to William, as he himself would be regarded as the worst of traitors by the English. The duke must be perfectly well aware that a king of England could not, without the assent of the people, accept a foreign prince as his liege lord.”
De Burg nodded.
“That is plainly so, Wulf; and although the duke professes intense indignation against Harold, he himself has, over and over again, broken his own oaths of allegiance to the King of France. Breaches of oaths go for little, except they serve as pretexts for war. It would have been the same thing if Harold had never taken the oath, except that his breach of it will be an aid to William in a war against him. We northmen came to France and conquered a province, simply by the right of the strongest. The duke has doubled his dominions by the same right. He deems himself now strong enough to conquer England; whether he is so remains to be seen. At present methinks that but few of us are disposed to follow him in such an enterprise, but there is never any saying how things will go at last. When war is in the air men’s minds become heated. There will be dignities, estates, and titles to be won, and when many are ready to go, few like to hang back. More than once already William has embarked on a war against the wishes of the majority, but he has finally carried all with him, and it may be so again, especially if he can win over the pope to excommunicate Harold for the breach of an oath sworn on the relics.”
“His excommunication will go for little in England,” Wulf said sturdily. “Many of our prelates, and almost all our clergy are Englishmen, and hold in very small respect the claim of the pope to interfere in the affairs of England.”
“And if Harold died who would be likely to succeed him?”
“I have never thought of that,” Wulf said, “and I should think that few Englishmen have done so. If such a misfortune should happen, methinks that England would be rent in two, and that while Wessex and Anglia would choose one of his brothers, Mercia and the North would take Edwin or his brother Morcar as their king, but assuredly no foreign prince would be chosen.”
“No, but with England divided the chance of conquest would be easier. You are about the king, Wulf. Keep a shrewd guard over him. I say not for a moment that the duke would countenance any attempt to do him harm, but there are many rough spirits who might think that they would gain his favour greatly did they clear his path of Harold, and who would feel all the less scruple in doing so, should the pope be induced to excommunicate him. Such things have happened again and again. Mind, I have no warrant for my speech. Methinks the honour of De Burg is too well known for anyone to venture to broach such a project before him, but so many kings and great princes have fallen by an assassin’s knife to clear the way for the next heir or for an ambitious rival, that I cannot close my eyes to the fact that one in Harold’s position might well be made the subject of such an attempt. The history of your own country will furnish you with examples of what I say.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Wulf said gravely. “The thought that an assassin’s knife might be raised against Harold, who is of all men the most beloved in England, has never once entered my mind, but I see there may be indeed a danger of such an attempt being made. I do not greatly trust Morcar or his brother, and the danger may come from them, or, as you say, from one desirous of gaining favour with your duke. I will lay your warning to heart.”
The conversation now turned on other topics, on the Welsh war and the life Wulf had been leading since they last met, and upon what had happened to the many acquaintances Wulf had made in Normandy. They talked until long past the usual hour for retiring to rest; Wulf slept at the chateau, and rode into Rouen at an early hour in the morning.
The audience next day was a public one. William was surrounded by his officers of state, and by a large number of his barons. The English envoys were ushered in, and the duke asked them in a loud voice what answer they brought to his just demands on the part of his sworn liegeman, Harold.
“The king of England bids us state, duke, that he holds an oath taken by a prisoner under force to be invalid, especially when taken in ignorance of the sanctity of the concealed relics; secondly, he says that he has been elected by the people of England, and that he has no power whatever to transfer the rights that they have conferred upon him, and which he has sworn to maintain, and that they would absolutely refuse to be bound by any act on his part contrary to the welfare of the kingdom, and to their rights as freemen; thirdly, as to your demand that he should carry out his promise to marry your daughter, he points out that the lady whose hand was promised to him has since that time died; and lastly, that although as Earl of Wessex he might transfer that engagement to another of your daughters, as king of England he is unable to do so, as the will of the people is that their king shall marry no foreign princess, but that the royal family shall be of unmixed English blood.”
William frowned heavily. “You hear, my lords,” he said, after a pause, to the Norman barons, “this English earl who was here as my guest refuses to carry out the engagements to which he swore upon the holy relics. I cannot, however, bring myself to believe that he will really persist in this foul perjury, and shall persevere in my endeavours to bring him to a sense of his duty, and to show him the foul dishonour that will rest upon him should he persist in this contempt alike of our holy church and his honour as a knight and a Christian, conduct that would bring upon him eternal infamy and the scorn and contempt of all the princes and nobles of Europe, and draw upon his head the wrath of the church.” Then he abruptly turned on his heel and left the audience-chamber, while the English envoys returned to their house and made preparations for immediate departure.
A few minutes after his arrival there one of the duke’s pages brought word to Wulf that the duke desired to speak to him in private. He at once went across to the palace. The duke received him cordially.
“I marked you were with the other thanes, and was glad to see one whom I count as my friend. Tell me frankly, what think the people of En
gland of this monstrous act of perjury on the part of Harold?”
“To speak the truth, my lord duke,” Wulf replied, “they trouble their heads in no way about it. They hold that the right of electing their king rests wholly with them, and that Harold’s promise, to do what he had no more power to do than the lowest born of Englishmen, was but a waste of words. Harold himself feels the obligation far more than anyone else, and had there been any other Englishman who could have united the people as well as he could himself, he would gladly have stood aside; but there is none such, and he had no choice but to accept the decision of the Witan, and, for the sake of England, to lay aside his own scruples. The late king, too, nominated him as his successor, and although his voice had no legal weight, he is now regarded as almost a saint among the people. The fact, therefore, that he, full of piety and religion as he was, should have held that Harold’s oath in no way prevented the people from choosing him, has gone very far to satisfy any scruples that might have been felt.”
“Edward at one time named me as his successor,” the duke said shortly.
“So I have heard, my lord duke; but as he grew in years and learned more of English feeling and character he became fully aware that the people would accept no foreign prince, and that only the man who had for thirteen years governed in his name could be their choice.”
“And the great earls and thanes are likewise of that opinion?”
