Chapter 6, Part 4
Unexpected Gifts
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Saras entered Aelfwynn’s chambers first. Without ceremony, she laid the ledger on the table and opened it to the marked pages.
Aelfwynn followed more slowly. Instead of joining her, she lingered near the door, her hand still resting lightly on the latch. For a moment she looked back toward the corridor they had just left.
Saras noticed immediately. “Are you all right?”
Aelfwynn did not answer at once. “I should not have left her alone.”
“She’s with her mother.”
“She’s in trouble because of me.”
Saras looked up from the ledger. “She’s strong.”
Aelfwynn nodded faintly, though the reassurance did little to comfort her. “She would not have left me.”
Saras waited. “I don’t understand.”
Aelfwynn hesitated before speaking. “When we were little, we were chasing each other through the Abbey.” A reluctant smile flickered across her face. “I ran into the chapel and caught the altar cloth.” She shook her head at the memory. “The candles fell.” A pause. “The crucifix fell.” Another pause. “The crucifix broke.”
Saras winced.
“The Abbess came running in.” Aelfwynn laughed softly at herself. “I thought I was dead.” Her smile disappeared. “Elle told the Abbess it was her fault.”
Saras said nothing.
“She lied.” Aelfwynn still seemed unable to believe it after all these years. “To the Abbess.” A beat. “Inside a chapel.” She looked down at her hands. “I was certain she would be damned.”
“You were young.”
“I could not sleep for days.” Aelfwynn smiled despite herself. “When she finally went to confession, I made her go back again to another priest.” She laughed quietly. “And then another.”
Saras laughed with her. “You haven’t left her.” She smiled warmly. “You’re helping her.”
“I suppose so.”
“And not in a helping-her-with-her-hair sort of way.” Aelfwynn laughed again. “You are helping her rule.”
The words settled over her. No one had ever described it that way before.
“In fact ...” Saras continued, considering Aelfwynn thoughtfully. “I suspect the only betrayal you could ever commit against Elle would involve Edmund.”
Aelfwynn was confused. “Edmund?”
“Have you ever kissed him?” Saras said bluntly.
Aelfwynn burst into laughter. “What?”
“Have you?” Saras pressed.
“No!” Aelfwynn laughed harder. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” said Saras, although she already knew the answer.
Aelfwynn wiped at the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “For more reasons than I could possibly count.”
Saras nodded with complete satisfaction. “Then I think your bond with Elle is secure.”
The laughter gradually faded. Aelfwynn regarded Saras for a thoughtful moment. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Why are you helping her?” She glanced toward the closed door. “Taking these risks?”
Saras’s smile disappeared. She considered the question carefully before answering. “Because I want to believe in her.” The room grew quiet. “And because she deserves a fair chance.”
Her eyes drifted to the open ledger before her. “Life is already unfair enough.” She traced one finger absently along the edge of the page. “If I can remove even a little of that ...” The sentence simply faded away.
Aelfwynn studied her for a long moment “Then teach me.” Saras looked up. “So that can be my mission too.”
Saras found herself unexpectedly moved. Then, almost instinctively, she turned the ledger around on the table.
“All right.” She pointed to several entries—business again. “I’ve found something strange.”
Aelfwynn leaned closer.
“These transactions.” Saras’s finger moved down the column. “They’re enormous.”
“What are they for?” Aelfwynn asked.
“That’s the problem.” Saras shook her head. “I don’t know.” She flipped back several pages, then forward again. “The categories don’t match the ledger.” She frowned. “It’s as though someone is deliberately hiding where the money went.” She looked up. “I’d wager these payments are connected to whatever the Lord Chancellor is trying to conceal.”
Aelfwynn bent closer over the pages.
“And the transfers happen regularly.” Saras followed the dates with her finger. “About every four weeks.”
“Every four weeks?”
“Roughly.” She nodded slowly. “Almost as though they’re tied to something.” She thought for another moment. “An event.” Another pause. “Or a person.”
Aelfwynn searched her memory. Nothing came. “I don’t know.” She looked genuinely disappointed. “I’m sorry.”
“We’ll ask around.” Saras closed the ledger. “Quietly.”
Then three sharp knocks sounded at the door.
“It’s time,” Tuck called from the corridor.
Saras gathered the ledger beneath her arm. “All right.” She smiled at Aelfwynn. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Arthur found Blondie standing outside the guard shack.
“Master Arthur.”
Arthur held out a small burlap pouch. “For you.”
Blondie looked from Arthur to the pouch. “What is it?”
“A present.”
Blondie frowned slightly. “What is a present?”
Arthur stopped. “It’s ...” He searched for an explanation. “... a gift.” That did not appear to help. “For Christmas.”
Blondie continued looking at him with polite confusion.
Arthur smiled. “Just open it.”
Blondie loosened the drawstring and peered inside. Nestled within the pouch were ten carefully carved wooden dice, along with two small cups. He reached in and turned one of the dice over in his hand before looking back at Arthur.
“What are they?”
“Dice.” Arthur’s grin widened. “For playing games.” He folded his arms, clearly pleased with himself. “I thought you could teach the others ...” A mischievous smile crept across his face. “... and win money from them.”
Blondie examined the tiny wooden cubes once more, still uncertain what to make of any of it. “Thank you.”
“Merry Christmas.” Arthur gave a cheerful wave before setting off across the courtyard in search of his next unsuspecting recipient.
Blondie watched him disappear and then looked back down at the dice resting in his hand. He still had no idea why anyone would simply give them away.
* * *
Aelfwynn opened the door her chambers and smiled to see Arthur there. “Master Arthur.”
With no preamble, he held out a small bundle wrapped neatly in cloth. “For you.”
Aelfwynn accepted it with obvious curiosity. “What is it?”
“A Christmas present.”
She carefully unfolded the cloth. Nestled inside was a small polished mirror set within a finely crafted tin case. She turned it over in her hands, admiring the workmanship before looking back at Arthur.
“What does it—”
“Like this.” Arthur reached over and showed her the tiny hinge.
The case opened. The polished metal caught the afternoon light, reflecting her face with surprising clarity.
Aelfwynn’s smile widened. “It’s lovely.”
“I thought so.” Arthur slipped his hands into his pockets. “You spend an awful lot of time making sure someone is presentable.” Aelfwynn laughed softly. “It seemed only fair that, every now and then, you should be allowed to check on yourself.”
For just a moment she looked at him without speaking. “You thought of me?”
“Of course.” He paused. “Not that Saras would have let me forget.”
That earned another laugh. Aelfwynn looked down at the little mirror once more, gently running her thumb along the edge of the case. It was such a simple thing. Yet no one had ever given her something meant solely for her own enjoyment.
“Merry Christmas, milady,” Arthur said.
She looked up, still smiling. “Thank you, Arthur.”
Arthur gave a satisfied nod before hurrying off toward his next stop.
* * *
Arthur found Tuck waiting inside the cruck house. Without a word, he set a cloth-wrapped bundle on the table between them.
“Merry Christmas.”
Tuck regarded it suspiciously. “What is it?”
“Open it.”
Tuck peeled back the cloth wrapping. Inside lay a sturdy leather backpack. He stared at it for a moment.
“For carrying things?” Tuck asked.
Arthur smiled. “Yes.” He nodded toward the pack. “For the things you find.”
A grin spread across Tuck’s face.
“You are good at finding things.”
“That’s true.”
Without hesitation, Tuck slipped the backpack over his shoulders. He walked a few steps. Shifted the straps. Nodded approvingly. Then he gave a curious frowned. “There is something inside.”
Arthur did his best to sound surprised. “Is there? You should look.”
Tuck removed the backpack and set it back on the table. He reached inside. After a moment he withdrew a second package, this one wrapped carefully in cloth and tied with a ribbon. He held it up. “What’s this?”
Arthur glanced at it. “Oh.” He waved a hand dismissively. “That isn’t for you.”
Tuck looked puzzled. “Then who is it for?”
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Who do you think?”
Tuck considered the question. “You mean ... Kaelyn?”
Arthur looked positively exasperated. “Of course it’s for Kaelyn.” He pointed toward the little parcel. “Look. At Christmas, you can’t mess up the presents.” Then another thought occurred to him. “In fact, we should probably rehearse.”
“Rehearse?”
“The presentation.” Arthur nodded with complete seriousness. “Trust me.” He pointed at the ribbon. “She is going to like this.”
Tuck looked from Arthur to the little package and back again. Then he smiled. “Thank you, Arthur.”
Arthur smiled back. “I’m here for you.” A beat. “But I have to go.”
He reached for the door. “Merry Christmas, Tuck.”
“Merry Christmas.”
Arthur disappeared outside.
* * *
Arthur caught up with Duncan just as the Prior was stepping out of his cell.
“Good,” Arthur said, slightly out of breath. “I didn’t miss you.”
Duncan gave a surprised smiled. “Hello, Arthur.”
Arthur held out a small wooden box. “Merry Christmas.”
Duncan accepted it with curious eyes. “What is it?”
“A Christmas present.” Arthur sighed theatrically. “Apparently no one around here has ever heard of them.”
Duncan chuckled softly and looked down at the lid. Painted neatly on top were the words: “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there I am in the midst of them. — Matthew 18:20”
“An unusual verse,” Duncan remarked.
“Open it.”
Duncan lifted the lid. Inside lay a stack of thin, polished wooden plaques. He removed the first. Five carefully illustrated saints looked back at him.
“Who are they?”
“Saints.” Arthur leaned over the box, pointing eagerly. “Peter. Mark. John. Mary. Augustine.”
Duncan nodded, still uncertain where this was leading.
“Now the next one,” Arthur urged.
Duncan handed the first plaque to Arthur and lifted another from the box. Again, five saints. “Five more saints.”
Arthur grinned. “No.” He tapped the plaque. “Just four more.” He pointed to one of the figures. “Do you see Peter?”
Duncan looked more closely. “He’s on both.”
“Exactly.” Arthur could barely contain himself. “Now another.”
Duncan picked up a third plaque. His eyes moved across the illustrations. Then he smiled. “The Virgin Mary.” He looked up. “She’s on these two.”
“Yes!” Arthur all but bounced on his heels.
Duncan selected another plaque. Then another. Each time he found a single saint shared with the one before it. He looked back at Arthur, his smile growing with each discovery. “How ...?” Another plaque. Another match. “It’s remarkable.”
“I know, right?” Arthur laughed with the delight of someone who had been waiting all day to hear exactly those words. “It’s a game.” He shrugged. “Or a puzzle.” He handed the plaques he was holding back to Duncan. “Share it with the others.”
Duncan carefully gathered the plaques, returned them to the box, and closed the lid. “You are too kind to me.”
Arthur shook his head. “After everything you’ve done for our Christmas celebration ...” He smiled. “I’m the one who’s indebted.”
Duncan smiled in return. “The brothers may decide otherwise ...” His expression grew knowingly amused. “... should they survive Saras’s musical instruction.”
Arthur laughed. “I’d better keep moving.” He turned toward the corridor. “I have more presents to deliver.”
With that, he hurried away.
* * *
By the time Arthur climbed out of the town well, a small crowd had gathered to watch. Auntie stood at the front with Kaelyn beside her. Several of the women from the sump lingered nearby, whispering among themselves as they eyed the curious wooden contraption now fastened over the mouth of the well.
A hollow wooden pipe rose from the frame, ending in a simple iron spout. Attached to the frame was a long wooden handle.
Arthur, damp, muddy, and entirely unconcerned with either, gave the frame a firm shake. It did not budge. Satisfied, he picked up a polished metal cylinder from the ground and placed it into the wooden pipe. He attached the handle with a metal rod, secured it with pin, and stepped back to admire his handiwork.
He smiled and announced, “Merry Christmas!”
The greeting was met with a collection of thoroughly bewildered expressions.
Auntie finally spoke. “Arthur ...” She pointed toward the device. “What is that?”
“A Christmas present.”
“A what?”
“Watch!”
He grasped the long handle and began pumping. Nothing happened. He pumped again. Still nothing.
“It sometimes takes a moment.”
Another stroke. Then another. Suddenly a stream of water burst from the iron spout. The crowd gasped.
“Kaelyn!” Arthur called. “A bucket, please.”
Kaelyn darted forward, sliding a wooden bucket beneath the flowing water just as it splashed from the spout. Within moments the bucket was filling. Arthur hooked it neatly beneath the spout and stepped aside.
“Now ...” He nodded toward the handle. “Your turn.”
Kaelyn seized it with both hands. She pushed. Pulled. Water poured steadily into the bucket. Her eyes widened. “I can do it!”
The words had barely left her mouth before the other women surged forward, each carrying a bucket of her own. Everyone seemed to be talking at once while trying to claim the next turn at the handle. Arthur surrendered his place without protest.
Auntie watched the joyful commotion for a long moment before turning back to him.
He merely smiled. “Merry Christmas, Auntie.”
She stared at him for another heartbeat. “Oh, Arthur ...” She stepped forward, cupped his muddy face in both hands, and planted an exuberant kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, my dear.” Arthur blushed.
The women laughed all the harder as bucket after bucket filled beneath the steady stream of water.
After a few moments, while no one was paying him any attention, Arthur quietly slipped away.
Auntie noticed him leaving. He glanced back once. She smiled at him, and then, without another word, turned back to the waiting line at the pump.
* * *
Arthur made his way toward the Lord Chancellor’s office, a neatly wrapped bundle tucked beneath one arm. He had just raised his hand to knock when a voice from inside stopped him cold.
“This is not what you promised!”
He easily recognized the speaker: Lady Wynflaed.
Inside the office, Wynflaed stood opposite the Lord Chancellor’s desk.
“You told me they would never have to be part of all this.” Her voice trembled with restrained anger. “You told me Edmund was too far down the line.” She swallowed. “That they would live ordinary lives.” She searched his face. “Do you remember?”
The Lord Chancellor nodded. “I do.”
“But you did not stop Aethelstan from thrusting Edmund into battle, did you?” Her composure faltered. “He was still a boy.”
“Wynflaed—”
“Elle scarcely ate while he was gone.” She looked away for a moment. “If she wasn’t crying, she was in the chapel praying.” Her voice softened. “Every day.”
The Lord Chancellor lowered his eyes. He offered no defense.
“And now ...” The words caught in her throat. “This was never supposed to be their life.”
Silence filled the room.
Finally he answered. “No.” His voice was quiet. “It was not.”
A long moment passed.
“You promised me they would be safe!”
“I believed they would be.”
She studied him. She knew he was telling the truth. It did nothing to lessen her fear.
“England is barely holding on!” Her hands tightened at her sides. “It would be one thing if they were simply another noble family.” She struggled to continue. “But now that they are king and queen ...” She shook her head. “The danger ...”She closed her eyes. “I can’t even speak the words!”
The Lord Chancellor stood silent for a moment before answering. “Winter is upon us. No army will march before spring.” He spoke not to reassure her but simply to state the reality they both faced. “For now, I am keeping the ealdormen together.” A pause. “Holding the kingdom together.” Another. “That is all I can do.”
Wynflaed let out a slow, weary breath. She was no less frightened. No less angry.
“Then you had better succeed!” Her voice nearly broke. “Because I cannot bear watching them carry this any longer!”
She turned sharply and threw open the door. Arthur instinctively stepped aside as she swept past him without so much as noticing he was there. She disappeared down the corridor.
The door remained open. Inside, the Lord Chancellor stood alone behind his desk. For a few quiet moments, he simply gathered himself.
Arthur looked down at the small wrapped gift in his hands, then, with a gentle tap against the already-open door, he knocked anyway.
The gentle knock drew the Lord Chancellor from his thoughts. He looked up. “What do you want?!”
Arthur stepped inside, doing his best to sound as though he had heard nothing. “I have something for you.” He held out the wrapped bundle.
The Lord Chancellor regarded him for a long moment. “What is it?”
“A Christmas present.”
The answer earned no visible reaction. Arthur gave the bundle an encouraging little nudge. After a moment, the Lord Chancellor accepted it. He unfolded the cloth. Nestled inside was a polished circular piece of glass mounted in a simple wooden frame with a short handle. He turned it over once. Then again. Studying both sides.
Arthur’s enthusiasm finally overcame his patience. “It’s a magnifying glass.” A beat. “A lens.”
The Lord Chancellor looked from the glass back to Arthur, still waiting for the explanation Arthur had clearly neglected to provide.
“Take one of your letters.” Arthur nodded toward the desk. “Something with small writing.”
The Lord Chancellor selected a folded message. Instinctively, he held it at arm’s length.
Arthur smiled despite himself. “That is exactly what you did when you ...” He caught himself. “... visited us.”
The Lord Chancellor answered with a look that reminded Arthur there were topics best left unexplored. Arthur wisely continued.
“Bring it closer.” He demonstrated with his hands. “Then hold the lens between your eyes and the paper.”
The Lord Chancellor obliged. At first nothing happened. He adjusted the distance almost imperceptibly. Suddenly the letters sprang into sharp focus. His expression changed. He lowered the lens. Looked at the paper. Raised it again.
He read silently. No raids reported in East Anglia.
For several moments neither man spoke.
“Remarkable,” the Lord Chancellor noted.
“You should find reading much easier now.”
The Lord Chancellor did not answer. Instead, he read the message again. More carefully this time. Arthur waited, quietly pleased that the gift had succeeded. At length the Lord Chancellor lowered the lens.
“No raids ...” he murmured. He read the sentence once more.
Then, almost absently, he began moving papers aside across his desk. Arthur frowned. Beneath them lay a map of Britain. The Lord Chancellor set the message beside it and leaned over the map.
His finger traced slowly northward. “York ...” A pause. “Northumbria ...” Another. “Mercia ...” His finger stopped. “But not ...” He tapped the eastern coast. “... here.”
Arthur stepped a little closer but remained silent.
The Lord Chancellor read the message again. Returned to the map. Something settled into place.
“It’s Aethelstan.”
Arthur’s brow furrowed. “King Aethelstan?”
The Lord Chancellor looked up. “No, Aethelstan of East Anglia. The ealdorman.”
Arthur was still confused. “There’s another Aethelstan?” The Lord Chancellor studied him. “I only knew about the king.”
For the first time, the Lord Chancellor’s attention shifted away from the map entirely. “You have never heard of Aethelstan of East Anglia?”
“Should I have?”
Silence.
Then the Lord Chancellor turned the map toward him. “Show me East Anglia.”
Arthur looked down. His eyes wandered across the parchment. Nothing.
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
The Lord Chancellor rotated the map a little farther. “Then show me Winchester.”
Arthur searched again. “London should be ...” He pointed hesitantly. “... about here.” His finger drifted westward. “And Saras and I were somewhere around here when your exceptionally welcoming soldiers found us.” A faint smile crossed his face. “Beyond that ...” He shrugged. “... I honestly don’t know.”
The Lord Chancellor continued watching him.
Arthur slowly became aware that the silence had changed. “What is it?”
The Lord Chancellor straightened. “Why are you here?”
“As I’ve already told you—”
“No.” The interruption was gentle. “Why are you still here?”
Arthur waited.
“I’ve watched you. You could have easily outwitted the gruards and escaped Winchester long ago.” The Lord Chancellor folded his hands. “Yet you remain.” Another pause. “Why?”
Arthur took a slow breath. “I gave my word to the king.” He met the Lord Chancellor’s eyes. “You were there.”
The older man said nothing.
“And ...” Arthur glanced briefly at the map spread across the desk. “I want to help people.”
Silence. Then he smiled faintly.
“And honestly ...” He looked back up. “I have nowhere else to go.”
The room grew quiet once more. The Lord Chancellor looked at Arthur. Then at the map. Then at the magnifying glass resting beside the message. “Thank you for the gift.” Finally, he looked back at Arthur. “You have given me a great deal to consider.”
Arthur smiled. “Merry Christmas, my lord.” He inclined his head, then quietly left the office.
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