"It is not likely that swords will have any part in that matter, Lord Marshal.
There is another task in store for you than to fight Normans,--and it may be
that you will think it beneath your rank, for instead of the State, it
concerns me and my life, which someone has tried to take. Yet I expect you
will see that my death would be little gainful to England." A second curt
gesture cut short Sebert's rather embarrassed protest. "Here are no fine words
needed. Listen to the manner in which the deed was committed. Shortly before
the end of the winter, it happened that Ulf Jarl saw the cook's scullion pour
something into a broth that was intended for me to eat. Suspecting evil, he
forced the fellow instead to swallow it, and the result was that, that night,
the boy died."
The Etheling exclaimed in horror: "My lord! know you whence he got it?"
"You prove a good guesser to know that it was not his crime," the King said
dryly. "A little while ago, I found out that he got it from the British woman
who is nurse to Elfgiva of Northampton." To this, the new Marshal volunteered
no answer whatever, but drew his breath in sharply as though he found himself
in deep water; and the King spoke on. "I did not suspect the Lady of
Northampton of having evil designs toward me, because--because she is more
prosperous in every respect while I am alive; and now that belief is proved
true, for I am told for certain that, the day before the British woman gave
the boy the liquid, a Danishman gave the British woman an herb to make a drink
of.
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