Peaceweaver by Arnopp Judith

Author:Arnopp, Judith [Arnopp, Judith]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2011-08-16T16:00:00+00:00

Many long months passed before we saw Harold again. No one knew why he tarried so long at the Norman court but the king grew fractious and his family speculative.

Tostig swore that Harold had formed a romantic attachment and would probably return home with a Norman bride. He cast a sly glance in my direction but I schooled my features to nonchalance and ignored him.

‘It is more likely to be the hunting,’ Edith objected, ‘you know Harold, he has never been promiscuous has he? Oh, I know he has that Swanneck woman but, give him his due, he hasn’t strayed from her as far as I know.’

‘What is she like, this Eadgytha?’ I could not refrain from asking, ‘I’ve heard she is loyal to Harold and a good mother.’

‘Well, she is prolific enough, I suppose, if that counts in her favour,’ said Edith, not bothering to hide her dislike, ‘she is just so vulgar, the way she flaunts herself as though sharing his bed gives her some status. It really is time Harold dispensed with her and took to himself a proper wife.’

I could feel the slow flush of embarrassment flooding into my cheeks for I knew that I was the ‘proper wife’ she referred to. Just then, the king popped his head around the chamber door.

‘Ah, Edith, my dear,’ he interrupted, nodding to the assembled company, ‘just to let you know your mother is here and also your brothers, Gyrth and Leo…’

‘Well, come in do, Edward, you are lurking half in, half out the door like a messenger boy. Eadgyth, you haven’t met my mother have you? You will love her, she is a darling.’

I looked upon this darling as she entered and bobbed a makeshift curtsey to her daughter; she was tall and held herself like a queen. She was clothed in the modest style but the cloth was of the very best quality and her jewellery, although simple, was costly too. Close by her side stood two of her younger sons; the youngest of all, Wulfnoth, still held hostage in Normandy and it was his freedom that Harold hoped to negotiate with the Norman duke. Gyrth, I presumed, was the darker haired of the two; he bowed over his sister’s hand after making his obeisance to the king.

‘Mother,’ announced Edith in her clear, high pitched voice, ‘this is Eadgyth, the former wife of the Welsh king, you will have heard Harold singing her praises no doubt.’

I flushed under the scrutiny of this grand old woman.

‘I have indeed. I am charmed, Eadgyth. Tell me, has Harold shown you the same lack in communication as he has his family? We find ourselves sadly at a loss to know what has become of him. He must needs return soon for the witenagemot.’

Gyrth and Leofwine greeted me and I found myself looking at two younger, slighter versions of their older brother. The strong resemblance that ran through the Godwinson family was remarkable but, this time, there was not the slightest lack of masculinity in either of them.

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