Now as I thought of the likelihood of one of Matelgar's men spearing me
during the heat of fight, I wondered if he feared the same of me, for I
have often heard tales of the like.
Then Osric answered me, kindly enough, but decidedly:
"Nay, Heregar, you hear that this must not be. Outlaw is outlaw, and
must count for naught. I may not go against the word of the Moot, and
inlaw you again by giving you a place. Go hence in peace, and take your
way; yet we thank you for bearing the message to Matelgar. Link up your
mail again, and tell any man that you bear messages from me; the
watchword is 'Wessex' for the guards are set by now, and you will need it."
As he spoke thus kindly Matelgar's face grew black as night; but he
dared say no word. So I bowed to the sheriff and, linking up my mail,
went sadly enough down the hall. It was crowded at one place, and there
some friendly hand patted me softly on the shoulder, though most shrank
from me; but yet I would not turn to see who it was, that helped me.
Now I have often wondered that no inquiry was made about my arms, and
how I came by them; but what I believe is, that even then men began to
know that Matelgar and his friends had played me false, but that they
would not, and Matelgar's people dared not, say much.
Pages:
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113