Godwulf brings a message

“Godwulf!” Githa cried when she opened the door. It was Theobald’s father’s old valet standing on the step.

“My lady,” he said shakily, bowing his white head. “My horse…?”

Githa nodded to a groom standing by, who took the bridle of the panting and lathered animal and began leading it off to the barn. “Send Theobald in!” she called to him as he left.

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen you, dear Godwulf,” she said as she brought Godwulf into the house. “I hope you haven’t come with bad news.” But the man looked terribly upset.

Brinstan and Athelis looked up shyly.

“Oh, he has the look of him!” Godwulf whispered when he saw the young master, and Githa thought she saw tears sparkling in his eyes for a moment, until he blinked them away.

“What has happened?” Githa asked, pale with worry. Why else would the Baron’s own valet come but because…?

“I would rather not say twice,” he said, shaking his head sadly.

Githa understood then. “Of course. We shall wait for Theobald. Sit down here and let me get you something to drink.”

“Oh, but you shall not serve me, my lady,” he said, beginning to rise again.

“Of course I shall,” she replied, pushing him back down into the chair and going off into the kitchen for some ale. She stood quietly by the children afterwards, and allowed Godwulf to rest.

But Godwulf rose again when Theobald strode into the house. 

“Godwulf!” he called when he saw who the visitor was, taking the old valet’s hands into his own. “How good to see you! I apologize for being such a mess, but I came straight from the field.” Githa could see that he had washed his face and arms at the well, but his hair and clothes were damp and dusty. And she could see that his eyes were anxious.

“You always were a dirty boy,” Godwulf chuckled sadly. “But there is nothing better for a man, than that he should make his soul enjoy good in his labour.”

Theobald smiled, but his eyes did not. “How is my father?” he asked in a voice that was little more than a whisper.

“Oh, my young lord,” Godwulf said sadly, “Your father is dead.”

Theobald turned his face away. 

Githa’s heart sank. She knew how Theobald loved his father, and how it had pained him to defy him, and how he hoped that he would have the time to make things right between them. But he would have to answer to his father in heaven, now.

“He who loved you so!” Godwulf sobbed. “He begged them to send for you, and Gifmund would not allow it. They wanted him to think you would not come, but I told him that they would not send for you. I told him that nothing would prevent you from coming, had you known. He died believing you loved him, my young lord.”

Githa saw the muscles in Theobald’s jaw grow tight, saw him clench his fists. She saw how angry he was, though few others could have told.

“Thank you, Godwulf. It is a great debt I owe you,” he said quietly. “When was it?”

“Ten days ago this night.”

“Ten days ago!” Theobald thundered. “Then they have buried him!”

Godwulf nodded, and Theobald stalked to the window and looked outside, trying to tame his fury.

Githa saw Brinstan and Athelis looking anxiously at one another, and so she scooped up Brinstan before he would have the idea to cry.

“Gifmund – that is, my lord the Baron would not let us send word. Your mother wished to send a letter but none would write it – ”

“My mother!” Theobald cried. “How is my mother?”

“My lady’s heart is broken,” Godwulf said sadly. “She sends all her love to you, my young lord. Her other sons have betrayed her.”

Theobald pounded his fists on the window sill, and Brinstan burrowed his face into Githa’s neck. He rarely saw his father angry, but when he was, it was a frightening thing.

“My lord the Baron only allowed me to come on the condition that I return tonight.”

“That’s too far for you to ride in one day!” Theobald cried, turning back to Godwulf. “I’ve done it, but I nearly fell off my horse on the way back. Gifmund is mad! I shall return in your place, Godwulf,” he said, moving across the room as if he were already on the way out. “We shall see what he has to say to my face.”

“I wouldn’t! I wouldn’t, my young lord. My lady your mother begged me ask you to stay away. You are no longer welcome there, and she fears – ”

“May I not visit my own mother?” he roared.

Athelis clung to Githa’s arm.

“Not while Gifmund is lord,” Godwulf said quietly.

“Gifmund! Lord!” Theobald spat. “If he thinks I shall kneel before him…!”

“My young lord – ”

“Godwulf, you needn’t return tonight. You needn’t return any night. You’re welcome to stay here with me and my family.”

Godwulf hesitated. “I thank you. But I should like to return to my lady your mother. I may be the last man faithful to her up there. But afterwards…”

“God, if I could only bring her here!” This time Theobald applied his fists to the door.

“My lady your mother no longer leaves her room,” Godwulf reminded him. “And her heart is broken…”

Theobald paced the room, his head in his hands.

“My lord, I shall leave you to my lady your wife,” Godwulf said delicately. “I go to see to my horse. If you would like to send a message to my lady your mother, you may tell it me when I return.”

“Wait – ” Theobald said, trying to collect his thoughts. “You shall have a fresh horse. Take a better one than you brought – I shall not have Gifmund calling me a horse thief on top of everything else. I have no message for my brothers. For my mother – tell her I love her. I have been a miserable son, but I love her. And I am happy. She will like to hear it.”

“As do I, my young lord,” Godwulf bowed.

“As for you, Godwulf, my home is open to you when you can no longer be of service to my mother.”

Godwulf bowed again. “My lord, I fear I shall see you again soon.”