Last Tales of Mercia 5: Osgifu the Sister, Page 2

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  After several attempts to communicate with Dumbun, Osgifu sympathized with Godric’s urge to bludgeon the man to death. She knew that Dumbun could make sounds with his throat, so why didn’t he speak? She prayed that God would give her patience as she fed Dumbun bread, gave him a warm seat near the outdoor kitchens, and tried to pull information from him.

  Osgifu regretted agreeing to take Dumbun outside. The winter chill hung heavily in the air, and to make matters worse, a fog had rolled in to choke the sunshine. Frost remained glittering on the grass well into mid-morning. Even when Osgifu lit a fire, Dumbun kept trembling as if the cold had settled deep in his bones. She gave him a blanket and tried to think of some new way to learn his message.

  Finally, she worked up the courage to ask him the most pertinent question. “Is Elwyna alive?”

  Dumbun nodded.

  A small surge of relief rewarded Osgifu, though her stomach remained knotted with fear. “Is she ill?”

  He shook his head.

  “So ... she is in some sort of trouble?”

  Nod.

  “Do the two of you need money?”

  He hesitated. Without affirming or denying this, he looked pointedly to the heavens, then clasped his hands together as if praying. Then he brushed his forehead, rippling his fingers like water.

  “She needs the mercy of God.”

  Dumbun nodded fervently.

  Elwyna felt ridiculous, but at least this method of questioning had begun to yield results. “Has she done something? Has she committed a crime?”

  He lowered his head sorrowfully, then nodded.

  “How bad is this crime? Theft? Cheating?” No response. “Murder?”

  Another nod.

  “Dear God.” Osgifu made the sign of the cross. “Whom did she kill?”

  Dumbun considered how to respond. Then he grabbed his scraggly locks of hair and pulled them upward. He scraped his other hand up the back of his skull, as if shaving the hair from it.

  “A Norman!” It seemed too horrible to be true. But why else would Dumbun come all this way and dare showing his face to Godric? “Do they have her? Will they kill her?”

  Nod.

  Her mind raced and she paced across the frosty grass as she considered what to do. She certainly did not have the money to pay the werigald of a Norman. Nor would she risk her own neck in some desperate attempt to save her wayward sister. The two of them had not spoken in years. Usually, Osgifu tried her best not to think about Elwyna. But now, knowing that her blood-kin faced death, Osgifu knew that at the very least, she must face her sister once more.

  The distant thunder of horse-hooves forced her to make a decision. She looked through the fog and discerned the the shape of two riders approaching; that would be Godric returning with his Danish housecarl, Faran. Faran liked to act and dress like a Viking, even though he had never been one. The two men had gone on an errand while waiting for Osgifu and Dumbun to conclude business.

  “You must go.” Osgifu stood and nudged Dumbun frantically. “Meet me at Ethelbert’s church. It’s on the road south of here. I will try go there as soon as I can. Now go!”

  Godric surely spotted Dumbun’s figure as it ran off the opposite direction, but he graciously pretended not to. Perhaps a ride through his lands had helped to cool his temper. Godric put his horse in the stables and then made his way towards her. Anxiety wrung Osgifu’s nerves like a dish rag. How much should she tell Godric, if anything? She would have to explain her trip somewhat. But should she tell him about Elwyna? Godric had never been in love with Elwyna; nonetheless, they had been married for about eight years. Surely he deserved to know about her misfortune.

  And if he cared about Elwyna’s well-being, then what? Osgifu had resolved to visit her sister. But what lengths might Godric go to if he chose to interfere? Her stomach flipped while considering the responsibilities. Godric had murdered three kings and an archbishop in his time, all without consequence. If he made up his mind to help Elwyna, who knew what he might do?

  He seemed to share her anxiety as he approached. Perhaps he feared what she might say as greatly as she feared saying it. They stood at a distance for awhile, letting a silence stretch between them.

  “I have to go see my sister,” blurted Osgifu at last. “She’s in trouble. One more visit with her might be my last.”

  Godric avoided his wife’s gaze, perhaps to hide his own emotions. “I see.” He ground his teeth. They both waited, for what she didn’t know. A lone bird cawed in the distance. Godric stepped closer, though he still would not look at her. Finally he reached out and gripped her shoulder. “Do you want my help?”

  “No.”

  He gave one curt nod. She thanked him silently for accepting her decision without debate. “When will you leave?”

  “Now, I suppose. Though I suspect I won’t be back until tomorrow.”

  “Where will you go?”

  She hesitated.

  A new edge sharpened his voice. “Will you be in danger?”

  “No,” she said quickly, hoping that God forgave her if such a statement was a lie. Walking amongst Normans who held her sister captive for murder would certainly not be “safe.” But if Godric knew that, he would find some way of watching her from afar.

  She remembered that Richard’s son, Osbern, had once met Edric at a shire’s court. Both of them young boys at the time, they had played together and enjoyed each other’s company. Perhaps she could change the tone of the situation entirely. “In fact, I’d like to bring Edric with me.”

  “Edric?”

  “Yes.” She took a deep breath, determining not to deceive Godric any more than necessary. “I will be going to the castle of Lord Richard FitzScrob.”

  “The Norman!”

  Osgifu nodded calmly. “You have always said he is our ally, as he is King Edward’s. And you may recall that his son Osbern met Edric at the shire court not so long ago. They got along well together.”

  “They battered each other with sticks,” Godric growled. Then he sighed with defeat. “But they did seem to enjoy it.”

  Osgifu reached up and brushed Godric’s cheek with her fingers. “Trust me, Godric. I can handle this situation.”

  She felt Godric’s jaw clenching under her touch. “I don’t want Edric to meet Elwyna.”

  “If he does, he’ll know only that she’s my sister.” She realized her hands were trembling and she worried that Godric would notice. She fell forward into the warmth of her husband’s arms. “I love you,” she whispered.

  His lips brushed her hair. “I love you, too.” His hands gripped her firmly.