Theobald brings news to the Earl

“Will you kindly excuse us, Colburga?” Cenwulf asked his wife. Theobald’s expression looked ominous.

“What is it, Theobald?” he asked after she had gone. “I have heard you had a visitor.”

“My father,” Theobald explained. “He has had news from the court.”

Cenwulf’s heart sank. “Tell me quickly.”

Theobald took a deep breath. “Morcar’s troops and the Danish army were routed at Ely. Morcar has been captured and is imprisoned in London. Some of the leaders were executed on the spot, and the common soldiers were crippled by having their right hands cut off. My father has had no news of our King or of the Duke, and he dared not ask. That is all we know.”

Cenwulf strode past him and stood facing the wall. There was little hope, then.

Theobald stood patiently behind him. Cenwulf saw that he would have to say something.

“Pardon me, Theobald. Sigefrith was my dearest friend.”

“I understand.”

After a moment Cenwulf turned to face him. “Has your father told anyone we are here?”

“No.”

Cenwulf could see that Theobald was waiting to hear what they would have to do. “This was all Sigefrith’s doing,” he said quietly. “It was Sigefrith who believed. And we all believed in Sigefrith. Do you think it can survive him?”

“I don’t know,” Theobald replied, shaking his head.

“I shall speak to Matilda. But it is perhaps best not to decide until we have had… more definite news of Sigefrith and Alred. We must hope that at least one of our men survived and may make his way home.”