My father and this Matelgar were never close friends, the open nature of
the one fitting ill with the close and grasping ways of the other. Yet,
when Matelgar spoke me fair at the rere-feast of my father's funeral,
and thereafter would often ride over and sup with me, I was proud to
think, in my foolishness, that I had won the friendship that my father
could not win, and so set myself even above him from whom I had learnt
all I knew of wisdom.
And that conceit of mine was my downfall. For Matelgar, as I was soon to
find out, encouraged my foolishness, and, moreover, brought in friends
and bought men of his, who, by flattering me, soon made themselves my
boon companions, treasuring up every word that might tell against me
when things were ripe.
Then at last, one day as I feasted after hunting the red deer on the
Quantocks, my steward came into my hall announcing messengers from the
king. They followed close on his heels, and I, who had seen nothing of
courts, wondered that so many armed men should be needed in a peaceful
hall, and yet watched them as one watches a gay show, till some fifty
men of the king's household lined my hall and fifty more blocked the
doorway. My people watched too, and I saw a smile cross from one of
Matelgar's men to another, but thought no guile.
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