It was upon this night exact, St. Johnsfeast Night, when Imogene
would then receive the news she was a widow for a second time. The knight she
had been cleven to by William’s good decree was slain upon the valor fields
whilst chasing down Duke Conan, back a ways, on Kenelm’s Day. She asked the
monks in Hyacynthe’s command what day this was, and found she it was in July:
the seventeenth. Two months be gone he was and nary had she word! She wondered
then about his son, a boy she cared about a goodly mint. His name was given as Bealdo, and his age was
but eleven years. His name was like his father’s. A blond boy was Bealdo, with
broad shoulders and a caring heart. And fell she, found she, unto Hyacynthe, to
give her comfort in her pallor-time whilst grieving for the fallen knight she
had in mind.
Something else became that day: A Celtic man came visiting
the camp at Valery. He dressed him in the manner of the Mid-lands and the North
of England, very strange. But only one of all the retinue did recognize this
wizened gill: the man in foreign manner and in dress, his name be Morth, and
Nesta knew of him immediate.
“Cael Morth! Cael Morth! O happy day’s reunion!” Called she
to the man, as came he on three legs from carriage down to camp. She ran to
him.
He looked up at the girl – nay – woman so approachething at
pace. He raised his flat, broad bonnet to her, to reveal his face. He smiled
broadly, teeth somewhat intact, and limped a little faster to her countenance
withacht.
“Níos mó is mó atá
againn anois, [1] Nisty!”
Exclaimed Cael Morth, dropping cane and opening the girl embrace. He tried to
lift her Heavenward, but ten years’ time weighed down upon him, just as it had
spurred the girl to blossom up. She had left him as an oak, but found him now
again as but a reed, and felt the urge to lift him up instead; but did demure
for all things in good time alone are called to need.
“Cael Morth! My dear tutor of Northumberland! They’ve raised
me up to be a knight! I’m gone to win our homeland, pretty homeland back!”
“Tá deartháir an
Godwinson tar éis a chaitheamh le Harald, leanbh. Is é seo a tháinig mé a
rá leis an Diúc.”
“Harold’s brother, Tostig, joined with Harald Sigurdson? Yes,
Master Cael, we tell the Duke alack!”
 |
| Breakfast outside William's tent |
And rushing to Duke William’s tent, Dame Nesta then told
William what it was that Cael had said (For Cael spoke only Gaelic and the
Anglestongue, and nary did he speaketh any French, nor Norman, nor the tongue
of Christian works.) Nesta breathlessly announced, “Baron Morth, he former of
Bamburg in Northumbria, brings news perhaps be foul or be fair upon your ear.
But either way, it cannot wait! I…”
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