CHAPTER XXIV--ADIVA TAKES MATTERS INTO HER HANDS

For a short time after this the days of Egwina were peaceful. Adiva petted and coddled her as only good motherly women can do, and the maiden felt that at last she had found a haven of rest, for weary was she of wandering.

"Never again shalt thou leave us, little one," declared Adiva, one day, as she and the maiden employed themselves as in the olden days with shuttle and distaff. "Never again! Thou shouldst not have left us at all, for thou didst first belong to us. Did not Denewulf find thee in the forest? Now thou shalt remain always."

"But the king?" said Egwina, bending low over her work. "Doth he not visit thee, Adiva--he or some of his family?"

"Well-a-day, yes," answered Adiva. "What of it, child? Couldst thou not stay out of the way until they had departed? 'Tis not as in the forest. Then there was but the two rooms. Wottest thou not that the manor of the bishop hath more?"

Egwina laughed with something of her old brightness.

"There!" cried the good woman, delightedly, "gladness doth it bring to my heart to hear thee laugh like that! Laugh an' thou wilt, even though it be at my foolish pride. 'Tis something better to be the wife of a bishop than of a swineherd, is it not?"

"But still he is the same, Adiva, swineherd or bishop," said the maiden. "What doth it matter what he doeth? 'Tis the man whom thou hast wed."

"Thou art young," remarked Adiva, with an upward lift of the head. "Wisdom thou wilt acquire as thou growest older. Denewulf was good enow as a husband when a swineherd, but few were the mancuses and pence that came our way. Now doth he wear the bishop's stole and all bow down to him. Well-a-day, child! It doth make a difference. But thou hast not yet said that them wouldst stay with me. To tell the truth," she lowered her voice, "there are times when lonely I be in spite of greatness."

"If it will please thee, then will it please me," answered the maiden. "Weary am I of wandering, and fain would I dwell where friends abide, if it so be that I may not see the king nor Edward. It hath seemed to me of late, Adiva, that in some way I should show my gratitude to God for His mercy to me. Some service would I render Him for His judgment. Why, Adiva, when I think that there was not even a scar, I wonder what I have done that so great a favor should be shown me."

"Trouble not thy head about it," said the dame, hastily. "Oft have I heard that such things were past finding out. Why, Denewulf, bishop though he be, wottest not the why of many things!"

"The maiden is right," said Denewulf, entering at this moment. "I, too, Egwina, have thought of the miracle, for such it was, and it hath seemed to me that thou wert spared that thou mightest give Him thy service. To chaste and holy Mary thy life should belong. Thou seekest repose, my child; find it in the cloister."

"The cloister!" Adiva threw up her arms in dismay. "Yon pretty child? Denewulf, what aileth thee?"

"Naught," answered the bishop, promptly. "Naught but desire for the best for Egwina. Wonderfully hath she been favored. It can be for naught else than that she should devote her life to the service of Heaven."

"Denewulf, hast thou gone daft?" demanded Adiva, with some asperity. "Egwina a nun? I trow not!"

"But, Adiva," said the gentle voice of Egwina, "why have I been so favored? Not even a scar, as thou knowest, nor mark of any kind. I felt that God would show mine innocence, but so marked was His favor that it hath troubled me to know the cause. It may be that for this service was I thus favored."

"And dost thou think of becoming a nun?" cried the dame, in consternation.

"If Denewulf thinketh best, and that for this cause was the miracle performed, I will so do," answered the maiden.

"It hath weighed upon my mind," said the bishop, "and it doth seem to me, Egwina, that it hath been intended by that sign that thou shouldst become the bride of the church."

"Out upon such nonsense!" exclaimed the dame, with energy. "No miracle was there save only what I, with the help of thy foster-mother, Gunnehilde, worked."

"Adiva!" exclaimed both Egwina and the bishop in a breath. "What meanest thou?"

"I mean," said the dame, "that I was not willing to have thy pretty arm seared, so I sent to Gunnehilde, and she concocted me a lotion. Every night did I bathe hand and arm. The last night, child, the salve which thou didst find me using was but the final touch. Already the lotion had done its work, and thou mightest have carried red-hot iron thy nine feet and back, and no scar would there have been. Out upon it for a miracle!"

"Woman! thou hast profaned the judgment of the Supreme One," said her husband, sternly, while Egwina sank back overcome.

"Profaned? Not at all," answered the dame, defiantly. "Did it not bring the guilty to punishment? The woman confessed, and the juggler is even now upon his pilgrimage. Egwina was shown innocent--as she was. How, then, have I profaned the judgment?"

"Thou must do penance," said Denewulf.

"Penance?" retorted Adiva. "Not I. What good doth it do me to be a bishop's wife if I am to do penance as an ordinary body? Keep thy penance for such as need them, Denewulf."

"But mine innocence?" cried poor Egwina. "Happy have I been to think that God did stoop to so favor me."

"Now, more than ever, do I think that thou shouldst enter the cloister," said the bishop. "'Tis true that the guilty were brought to punishment and thy innocence proven; but what if the ealdorman, the gerefa, and the people knew of this. Thinkest thou that they would think it just? Either, my child, thou must again take the ordeal or thou must retire to the cloister. I see naught else to be done," and he left the room.

"Thou to the nunnery?" cried the dame, indignantly. "Well-a-day! We shall see, my lord bishop. Neither ordeal nor cloister shall there be for my pretty one!"

"But, Adiva, I see that it must be as he saith," said Egwina. "Naught is left for me."

"Is there not, child? Again did I ask Gunnehilde of thy dream. Greatness is to be thy portion, and thou shalt not spoil the web woven for thee by this thing. A nunnery for thee, who art destined for the bride of Edward? I trow not! Before that shall happen, Edward himself shall be sent for, and then we shall see."

"Oh, dear Adiva, thou must not do that," cried Egwina, distressed.

"If thou dost not as I tell thee," said Adiva, with determination written on her brow, "both the king and Edward will I send for."

"I will! I will!" cried Egwina, hastily. "Whatever thou dost say that will I do, if only, dear friend, thou wilt not send for them. Gladly would I look upon their faces unknown of them, but I durst not speak with the king. I could not bear for him to look on me with coldness."

"We will wait for a few days," said Adiva, "and see whether Denewulf still thinketh the same. If he doth, then will I tell thee what to do. If I can o'ersuade him from such thing, then thou shalt remain with me, and naught will there be to do."

But Denewulf could not be persuaded from his idea. The honest Saxon desired only to do justice, and to his upright sense of honor this ordeal had been a failure. Only could his conscience be satisfied by a repetition of the ordeal or a retirement to the cloister.

On the other hand, Egwina, actuated by the same delicate sense of honor, was overwhelmed with fear lest Adiva should send for Alfred and Edward as she had threatened. Finding that Egwina inclined more and more to Denewulf's way of thinking, and that Denewulf was obdurate, the good dame took matters into her own hands.

"Come!" said she to Egwina one day. "Thou shalt go with me this morning to see Gunnehilde. Rememberest thou that time we went through the forest to have her read thy rede for thee? Again will we go."

"But not for reading of rune or rede," pleaded the maiden. "Sick at heart doth it make me, for it bringeth Gyda to my mind."

"No rune shall she read thee, child, though I would that thou wouldst let her. Then would she show thee that thou art destined to sit beside Edward."

"Speak not so, Adiva," said the maiden. "Henceforth I renounce all faith in seid and galdra. Of peril they do not warn; neither keep they from sin. I will seek no more to pierce that veil by which an all-wise Father hides the future from our gaze. It bringeth naught but evil."

"Well, well, do as thou wishest," grumbled the dame. "For my part, I find that it harms me not to be guided by Gunnehilde, and rare is she as a compounder of herbs. Here we are, child. Thou seest that we have brought the vala with us, for Denewulf, though he believeth not in her craft, wisheth her near him."

Gunnehilde greeted them with warmth. To Egwina she accorded a respect and deference that confused the maiden, who could not but see what thoughts were in her mind.

"Come ye to consult the runes?" she asked, "or upon the matter of which thou spakest, Adiva?"

"Upon the matter," returned Adiva. "Egwina will have naught more to do with runes or rede. Therefore haste we to the other affair."

"She hath no need," replied the vala. "Skulda hath woven the web and golden is its woof. Fear not, maiden, Verdandi striveth to weave dark threads among the gold, but already do they begin to brighten. Speed thou on thy way. Skulda holdeth the shuttle."

Egwina answered not. The remembrance of Gyda was still too strong upon her for her to listen without a shudder to the woman's prophecies. Gunnehilde saw the repugnance in her face, and turned to the bishop's wife.

"The cart is ready at thy bidding, Adiva. Whenever thou shalt say, then shall Beorn take the maiden to my brother's, Anlaf the black."

"What dost thou mean?" cried Egwina. "Where do I go? Adiva, what is it?"

"My child, thou didst promise thou wouldst do as I bade thee should Denewulf remain obdurate in his purpose to have thee enter a convent. Thou wottest how set he is in his design. Without thy consent thou canst not, of course, be made to enter one, but I fear that he will o'ersuade thee. Therefore I deem it best that thou shouldst retire for a little while into East Anglia where Anlaf the black, brother to Gunnehilde, abides. There shalt thou stay until such time as Denewulf will have given over his design. Then thou canst return to me, and never shalt thou leave me until Edward takes thee."

"Adiva," said the maiden, distressed, "it cannot be. It will never be as thou seemeth to think. Dwell not on such hopes for they are vain. I feel with Denewulf that it is meet and fitting that I should retire into a nunnery. Oppose me no longer, Adiva. It is best."

"It is not best," cried the dame. "If it so be that Edward doth not wed with thee, yet still thou shalt not be hidden in the cloister. Thou wilt go with the man to Anlaf's, wilt thou not? Thou must, Egwina, else I will send for the king and lay the whole matter before him."

"Thou wottest that I will do as thou sayest, Adiva, when thou dost make such threat. To please thee, then, and to keep thee from sending for the king, I will go into East Anglia and for a time give up the thought of the cloister. Anon I will take it up."

So Egwina found herself bundled into a cart and on the way to East Anglia to the house of Anlaf the black.