But the blood of Cerdic, once fired, burned too rapidly for policy. Edmund's
jaw was set in savage menace as he turned and beckoned to his guard. Had he
spoken the words on his lips, there is little doubt what his order would have
been.
Interruption came from an unexpected quarter. Even as his lips were opening,
that white taloned hand reached out of the shadow and touched his arm.
"Most royal lord! If it may be permitted me?" Earl Edric said swiftly.
His voice was very low, and every roughness had been filed away until it
flowed like oil. Upon the King's wounded temper it appeared to fall as softly
as drops of healing balm. With his mouth still set, he paused and bent his
ear. There was a murmur of whispered words.
What they were no one ever knew, and each man had a different theory; but
their result was plain to all. Slowly Edmund's knitted brows unravelled;
slowly his mouth relaxed into its wonted curves. At last he had regained all
his lofty composure and turned back.
"Lord of Ivarsdale, I am not rich of time, and my present need is too great to
spare any of it to the chastising of rebellious boys. Go back to your toy
kingdom, and lord it over your serfs until I find leisure to teach you who is
master." Making a disdainful gesture of dismissal, he turned with deliberate
grace and entered into conversation with the Mercian.
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