The Edge of Light (18 page)

He patted Godric’s shoulder once, then removed his hand. “I shall inspect the storage barns with you tomorrow,” he said, and the man’s smile returned.

“Thank you, my lord. I am sure
you
will be pleased.” The reeve’s expression turned sour. “I fear the Lady Elswyth knows little of the running of a manor.”

Alfred groaned silently and was turning to enter the hall when there came the further noise of approaching hoofbeats. He looked around, and there, coming in through the gate, was a small gray gelding with a black-haired girl poised and erect in the saddle. Alfred thought, and not for the first time, that he had never seen anyone sit a horse as beautifully as Elswyth. He scarcely noticed the thane riding beside her.

She spied him immediately. “Alfred!” she cried, and trotted forward. The little gray came to a perfectly square halt just before him. Alfred did not see Godric’s quiet withdrawal because Elswyth was giving him a radiant smile. “Finally,” she said, “you are back.”

He laughed and walked around to the gelding’s near side to lift her to the ground. Usually Elswyth scorned assistance, but she gladly put her hands on her husband’s shoulders and slid down along the length of his body, as unself-conscious as a child. When her feet were on the ground she stayed as she was, hands still on his shoulders, looking up into his face with those dark blue eyes that always seemed to be darker and bluer than he had remembered. “But what kept you for so long?” she demanded.

“Oh, there were more things to attend to than I had realized,” he answered in an easy voice. “Then Ethelred returned from Mercia.” He put his hands over hers for a brief moment, then took them from his shoulders, retaining one firmly in his own warm clasp, He turned toward the hall. “Have you heard that the Danes finally left Mercia?”

“Thank God,” she answered promptly. “No, we had not heard.” She fell naturally into step beside him and went with him into the hall, still talking of the Danes.

The remainder of the afternoon Alfred devoted to his dogs. He had left them at Lambourn with Elswyth and had missed them exceedingly. Godric asked to see him once, but Alfred put him off. He had a distinct feeling that his reeve was going to complain about Elswyth, and Alfred did not want to listen. He would have to eventually, he supposed, and he would have to speak to Elswyth if she was interfering with Godric’s management of the manor. But not today.

Godric’s wife, the Lady Ada, served a notable banquet that evening in honor of the return of Lambourn’s lord. Elswyth was to share the high seat with Alfred, with Godric and his lady in the place of honor to Alfred’s right. Before Elswyth came to join her husband, however, Alfred saw her deep in conversation with his thane Brand. The two had actually come into the hall together and were standing near the door, talking intently. Godric was staring at them, and the Lady Ada’s face bore the exact same expression Alfred had often seen on Eadburgh’s when she looked at her daughter.

Name of heaven, Alfred thought, He had left Brand behind with half of his companion thanes because he thought the young thane would be good company for Elswyth, but he had not expected quite the closeness that had evidently developed. If Elswyth had not the sense to realize that she was causing scandal, Brand should have.

The two Alfred was watching finished their conversation and parted, Elswyth to join Alfred in the high seat and Brand to take his place further down the board. The room settled down and Alfred’s household priest for Lambourn manor rose to give the blessing.

Alfred tried to listen to the prayer, but his thoughts this night were not quiet. He had been restless the last week he was at Southampton, and all the while he was in Winchester he had been anxious to return here. But now that he was at Lambourn, the pleasure of homecoming seemed to have eluded him.

Alfred listened to Father Odo’s monotonous voice and realized uncomfortably that he would have to confess his sin with Roswitha on the morrow. He had thought of going to confession to one of the priests at Winchester Minster; then he had procrastinated. But he could put it off no longer. He must confess. And make promise of amendment.

It did not make him feel better to realize that he had waited to confess to Odo because he knew the old priest would not have the nerve to upbraid him unduly.

The priest finished the blessing and sat down. The serving folk came around with the food. Alfred saw that Godric was engrossed in his dinner, turned to Elswyth, and said mildly, “You and Brand seem to be on good terms.” He picked up his knife and began to butter a fluffy white roll. The wheat at Lambourn was very fine, and the baker talented.

She nodded vigorously, her mouth being full of fresh fish from the river. Then, when she could talk: “Brand is a good man. And he is good on a horse too. Some of the other of your thanes are horrified whenever I gallop.”

He sank his teeth into the white bread. “They are not used to such a formidable horsewoman.” The roll was delicious.

“Brand is a good man,” she said again. She added somberly, “Which is more than I can say for everyone here at Lambourn, Alfred.”

He hesitated, then decided he might as well hear her side first. “Oh?” He raised an innocent eyebrow. “Have you had trouble, Elswyth?”

“I would not call it trouble, precisely.” Her black brows drew together over her thinly bridged nose. “But I think you should replace your reeve, Alfred.”

He stared at her in astonishment. “Replace Godric? Why? I was just thinking, as I rode into Lambourn, how well-tended is the manor.” He had turned so that his shoulder would effectively block Godric’s view of their faces.

“Oh, the property is well-enough tended.” The scorn in her voice was excoriating and she cast a narrow-eyed look past Alfred toward the reeve on his other side.

Alfred said crisply, “Elswyth, you had better explain to me what you mean.”

She answered just as crisply, “Alfred, the folk of your manor of Lambourn have been going hungry.”

“What?”

She nodded, her face very serious. “Yes. I went into the kitchen house one afternoon a few days after you left. For a little bite of something, you know. I was too hungry to wait all the way to dinner.”

He kept his voice low. “Yes?”

“The men had just butchered a sheep and the cook was roasting it. It smelled wonderful. I sat down in the kitchen, just to smell the food and eat my bread and cheese. I often did that at home, you see. Then, suddenly, I saw how two of the serving girls were watching me. Not watching me, really, but watching my food. Then I looked at them. Closely. They were
thin,
Alfred. More than thin, they looked half-starved.”

Now there was a deep line between his fair brows. “What did you do?”

“I asked them when they had last eaten. And what they had last eaten. Then I asked them to tell me what they had eaten for the last week.” Her long black lashes rose and eyes of midnight blue looked into his face. “Alfred, those girls were not getting enough to eat. When I asked whose orders the cook was following, he said Godric’s.”

There was a brief hard silence. Then: “What did you do?” Alfred asked again.

“I told the cook to feed the sheep to the serving folk, and then I spoke to Godric. He did not like what I had to say, but the food has been sufficient since. But I do not trust him, Alfred. As soon as my back is turned, I fear he will cut the food again.”

There was a white line of temper encircling Alfred’s mouth. The noise in the hall was rising as the thanes paused to talk between courses. No one could hear Alfred and Elswyth’s conversation. “His account books show a sufficient amount of food for the manor folk,” Alfred said,

“I am sure they do.” Elswyth was scornful. “But I think he is selling your foodstuff at market, Alfred. For his own profit.”

The quality of the silence this time was dangerous. Alfred said, grimly, “If that is indeed so, more than his job is forfeit.”

Elswyth said, “You have eaten nothing.”

Still he paid no attention to the plate of food before him. “Why did you not say something to me this afternoon? I shall have to send someone I can trust to inquire of the local thanes and ceorls.”

“I have already made some inquiries,” she answered. “That is why I said nothing this afternoon. I was waiting for Brand. He has discovered some evidence that Lambourn food is indeed being sold in the neighborhood.” She picked up her cup of ale and took a sip.

He watched the movement of her slim throat as she swallowed. “You have already made inquiries?” He heard himself how incredulous he sounded.

“Surely it was the reasonable thing to do.” Her eyes were very blue against the black of her lashes and the white of her skin. “If the food was not going to the manor folk, and was not in the storage barns, obviously it was going somewhere else.”

He said, his eyes watching her closely, “In the courtyard earlier, Godric told me you understood nothing of the running of a manor.”

Her lips curled in derision. “I would not trust him with my dogs, Alfred. You should have heard the tale he spun to me about the necessity of conserving food for the spring. He must have thought me a fool.”

He said, “Once you told me that you did not concern yourself with the running of a manor.”

“I told you I did not concern myself with the linen and the crockery,” she corrected him. “The people are somewhat different. It is not fair to take advantage of those who are unfree.” She reached over and moved his plate closer to his hand. “The Lady Ada is every bit as bad as her husband,” she added, her voice very low and close to his ear.

The white line about his mouth was back. “It is more than unfair,” he said. “It is a very great sin. And Godric has been reeve at Lambourn since my father’s time. I am much at fault for not finding his dishonesty sooner.”

All of a sudden Elswyth grinned. “You don’t spend enough time in the kitchen. I, on the other hand, pass many a pleasant hour there. You would be surprised what you can learn in the kitchen.”

He did not smile back. “I shall speak to Brand after supper,” he said. “I shall deal with Godric, Elswyth. You may rest secure that he will have no further chance to starve my folk here at Lambourn.” There was an oddly still look on his face that Elswyth did not mistake for mercy.

“I knew you would be angry, Alfred,” she said with approval. Then: “Will you please eat something!”

He nodded and picked up a slice of ham. Elswyth turned to speak to the priest who was on her other side, and Alfred dutifully chewed his meat. It tasted like ashes in his mouth. At his right hand, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Godric quaffing his cup of ale.

A rogue, Alfred thought. Why did I not see it before?

He answered himself: Because Godric’s birth was noble, he ran a well-maintained manor, and his accounts were always in order. Alfred had never thought to look at the leanness of his servants.

He was bitterly angry and bitterly shamed. It had taken Elswyth but two weeks to see what was at hand. And she had dealt with it, without his authority and with surprising competence.

He looked once more at his child-wife as she sat talking to Father Odo. Within the month, he thought, she would be fifteen. And felt again the slender body that had slid so naturally along his when he had lifted her down from her horse. As if she could feel his eyes, she turned her head away from the priest to look at him. Her pure skin had the faintly glistening texture of fine pearls. Her braided hair was so black it shone blue in the light from the torch. He looked at her expressive mouth, at the cleft in her small firm chin. She leaned forward and said something to him about the scop.

“Yes,” he said. “Of course.”

She looked over his head, searching for the harper.

He remembered once again the feel of her slim pliant body against his; it was not a child’s body anymore.

Brand had seen the close conversation between Alfred and Elswyth at supper and so was not surprised when he was summoned to speak to Alfred in the prince’s sleeping chamber after supper was concluded. Godric, he saw, had also made an attempt to speak to Alfred but had been rudely ignored.

Alfred was rarely rude. Godric was looking extremely worried as Brand went to the door of the prince’s room and knocked.

“Come!”

Brand entered to find Alfred squatting on his heels, looking carefully into a wolfhound’s ears. “This should have some ointment put into it,” the prince said; then he stood up. The dog immediately jumped onto the bed and stretched out, chin on paws.

“You have some information for me, I believe,” Alfred said.

“Yes, my lord.” Brand spoke steadily. What he had to tell his prince was not pleasant, and by the time he had finished he could see that Alfred was in a temper.

“And this has been going on for some time?” Alfred asked.

“For years, my lord.”

“Did you manage to discover why no one thought to report this theft to me?” The words were bitten off with all the precision of icy rage.

“My lord, they were all afraid of Godric. He is of high birth, cousin to the Ealdorman of Wiltshire. Who were they to speak against him? He ever said that what he did, he did at your command.”

“You are saying that my people of Lambourn thought that they were being starved on my orders?”

“No, my lord!” Brand had never seen Alfred look like this. His palms began to grow moist. “But you are rarely here. And Godric is here all the time …”

“What of Father Odo?”

“He is old, and …”

“And ineffectual.”

“Well,” said Brand unhappily. “Yes.”

“If we have a trial, will oath-takers come forward to speak against Godric?”

Brand’s hazel eyes widened. “A trial, my lord?”

“That is what I said.”

Brand rubbed his palms against his wool trouser legs. “I am sure the local shire thanes would come forward, my lord. If they knew such action would not displease you.”

“You may tell them that it would not displease me.” The look on Alfred’s face was so implacable that Brand felt a tremor of fear.

“Yes, my lord,” he said.

“I will speak to Godric tomorrow,” said Alfred. “Then you may speak to the shire thanes.”