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Updated: June 24, 2025
In his very heart Elfric wished that Edwy might never arrive there, yet he knew not what to say. "Well," said the prince, observing his hesitation, "you may go on with Cynewulf and the main body of the army, which will cross the Avon higher up, and I will make excuse that your duties detain you.
Yet, although Edwy tried to make a show of having returned of his own free will, an innocent device at which his captors connived when they entered the hall with him, the bitterest passions were rankling in his heart, and he determined to take a terrible revenge, should it ever be in his power, upon Dunstan.
Edwy was unhurt; he dismounted: his fair face flushed to a fiery red with heat and excitement, he leapt on the entrenchment and looked on the plain.
"It is well, my prince, that you should have a preceptor so well qualified to instruct you in the arts your great ancestor King Alfred so nobly adorned." "Ah yes, Alfred," said Edwy, yawning; "but you know we can't all be saints or heroes like him: for my part, I sometimes wish he had never lived." The astonished looks of the company seemed to demand further explanation.
Let us hope that she found the only real consolation in that religion she had hitherto, unhappily, despised, but which may perhaps have come to her aid in adversity. The unhappy Edwy sank from bad to worse. When Elgiva was gone he seemed to have nothing to live for; he yielded himself up to riotous living to drown care, while his government became worse and worse.
But there was one gay young noble present, who knew better than Cynewulf the key to Edwy's heart. He was one of the boon companions we have been before introduced to; but he had fought, poor young fellow, gallantly all that day, and now he could fight no longer: Edwy saw him reel and fall from his horse.
Edwy replied, "Nay, my host; this is almost my first day of perfect freedom, and I only left London, and my uncle the king, a few days back. Dunstan has gone down to Glastonbury, for which the Saints be thanked, and I am released for a few days from poring over the musty old manuscripts to which he dooms me."
If you are so dreadfully bad, you are in a pretty numerous company; and I don't think the shavelings believe their own tales about fire and torment hereafter. They are merry enough, considering." In short, poor Elfric's short-lived penitence was given to the winds. Edwy went alone to be shriven on the morrow. On Easter Day they both received the Holy Communion in the royal chapel.
How much was eaten and drunk upon the occasion it would be dangerous to say, for it would probably exceed all modern experience, but it seemed to the impatient Edwy that the feast and the subsequent drinking of pledges and healths would never end, and he was impatient the whole time to get away and be in the company of the charmer.
But how about Kingston? 'Kingston? Oh, capital. That would be charming. Am I wrong or not? Oh, surely yes.... Wasn't it Kingston? Didn't great Caesar cross the river there? And the Roman legions camp upon the sloping uplands? Bruce gasped. 'You know everything! he exclaimed. 'Oh no. I remember a little about the history, she said modestly, 'Ah, poor, weak King Edwy!
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