take this morsel of bread.’ He held up a small piece of bread. ‘May this morsel of fine bread choke me if even in thought, dear Edward, I have ever been false to you.’
With great ceremony he placed the morsel of bread in his mouth and pointed his pewter goblet in the direction of the king. Receiving a nod from Edward and a great beaming smile of pride from his daughter, the queen, he upended the goblet to wash the bread down as a round of cheering broke out from the assembled diners led by his two sons.
Then he began to cough and splutter and gasp for breath. By the time his two sons got to him and started bashing him on the back it was too late.
He had choked to death . . . the prophetic morsel of bread had exacted the ultimate price.
As his very last gasp met with the immovable, impermeable obstruction lodged in his airway, a clear voice entered his mind.
‘The final moment of your treacherous eternity has just arrived, Godwine. Good-bye.’
Chapter 4
‘Thank you for that great welcome. Although I have only been here a few short days, I feel as if I already belong among you.’
Following the high-profile death of their father, both Harold and Beorn Godwine were exiled to Denmark by King Edward for their part in the attempt to take over his crown. In Denmark they were reunited with Swein, their younger and psychopathically deranged brother, still with Edgiva, the former Abbess of Leominster, and a man who never let a day go by without thinking up ever more lurid ways of killing Twilight for his part in Swein’s exile. Although the Godwine brothers had no proof that the old wizard and his young tyro were involved in the death of their father by the now infamous morsel of bread choking, there were too many coincidences about that evening to discount it.
So, united in purpose and country of exile, the Godwine brothers began plotting their revenge against the veneficus, his upstart Irish tyro, and, of course, the crown of England.
It would not be long in coming.
‘I still don’t fully understand how we work and interact with the monarch of the day, whoever he or she may be,’ said a puzzled-looking Tara as she walked with Katre and Twilight through the mighty Destiny Stones at Avebury. ‘We seem to be almost duty bound to help them in their constant battles to stay on the throne against invaders, schemers, and other warlords, yet they are all committed to introducing Christianity to England by any means, a religion in which we are unbelievers. We even helped the Archbishop of Canterbury - the highest Christian in the land - by saving the abbess from Swein, although it turned out to be an exercise in futility in the end.’
Twilight considered this for a moment before replying.
‘There is no rhyme or reason to our decision to help any particular monarch, no code, no specific venefical procedure or training that says we should help kings and queens of a particular persuasion, but you’re right, we do seem to always end up on their side despite their religious fervour. The sad part about it is that in many cases our contribution, judged over the passage of time, appears to be a misjudgement or run against the tide of subsequent history. Merlin went with Arthur at first, then renounced it. I have fought with King Alfred and others against the Viking pretty much all my life, only to see Canute, a Viking king, ultimately take the throne before Edward the Confessor. Now you and I are getting drawn in to Edward’s squabbles against the Godwines. There will be other, probably fruitless venefical liaisons with kings in the future. It’s a personal choice each veneficus makes, although I will concede that our remit is inexorably expanding beyond the borders of Wessex to take in the whole of England as each attempts to strengthen and unite the land under one sovereign. The only thing I can put it down to is that being next to the seat of power enables us to influence the course of history for the
With great ceremony he placed the morsel of bread in his mouth and pointed his pewter goblet in the direction of the king. Receiving a nod from Edward and a great beaming smile of pride from his daughter, the queen, he upended the goblet to wash the bread down as a round of cheering broke out from the assembled diners led by his two sons.
Then he began to cough and splutter and gasp for breath. By the time his two sons got to him and started bashing him on the back it was too late.
He had choked to death . . . the prophetic morsel of bread had exacted the ultimate price.
As his very last gasp met with the immovable, impermeable obstruction lodged in his airway, a clear voice entered his mind.
‘The final moment of your treacherous eternity has just arrived, Godwine. Good-bye.’
Chapter 4
‘Thank you for that great welcome. Although I have only been here a few short days, I feel as if I already belong among you.’
Following the high-profile death of their father, both Harold and Beorn Godwine were exiled to Denmark by King Edward for their part in the attempt to take over his crown. In Denmark they were reunited with Swein, their younger and psychopathically deranged brother, still with Edgiva, the former Abbess of Leominster, and a man who never let a day go by without thinking up ever more lurid ways of killing Twilight for his part in Swein’s exile. Although the Godwine brothers had no proof that the old wizard and his young tyro were involved in the death of their father by the now infamous morsel of bread choking, there were too many coincidences about that evening to discount it.
So, united in purpose and country of exile, the Godwine brothers began plotting their revenge against the veneficus, his upstart Irish tyro, and, of course, the crown of England.
It would not be long in coming.
‘I still don’t fully understand how we work and interact with the monarch of the day, whoever he or she may be,’ said a puzzled-looking Tara as she walked with Katre and Twilight through the mighty Destiny Stones at Avebury. ‘We seem to be almost duty bound to help them in their constant battles to stay on the throne against invaders, schemers, and other warlords, yet they are all committed to introducing Christianity to England by any means, a religion in which we are unbelievers. We even helped the Archbishop of Canterbury - the highest Christian in the land - by saving the abbess from Swein, although it turned out to be an exercise in futility in the end.’
Twilight considered this for a moment before replying.
‘There is no rhyme or reason to our decision to help any particular monarch, no code, no specific venefical procedure or training that says we should help kings and queens of a particular persuasion, but you’re right, we do seem to always end up on their side despite their religious fervour. The sad part about it is that in many cases our contribution, judged over the passage of time, appears to be a misjudgement or run against the tide of subsequent history. Merlin went with Arthur at first, then renounced it. I have fought with King Alfred and others against the Viking pretty much all my life, only to see Canute, a Viking king, ultimately take the throne before Edward the Confessor. Now you and I are getting drawn in to Edward’s squabbles against the Godwines. There will be other, probably fruitless venefical liaisons with kings in the future. It’s a personal choice each veneficus makes, although I will concede that our remit is inexorably expanding beyond the borders of Wessex to take in the whole of England as each attempts to strengthen and unite the land under one sovereign. The only thing I can put it down to is that being next to the seat of power enables us to influence the course of history for the
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